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safely-in-vhagars-belly · 10 months

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Aemond and Aegon brat taming lannister daughter oc. (Not their daughter BTW they ain't related)

Made by me but requested to be brought back by: @elegantsplendour. Here you go my friend.

This will likely be a short story and contain around maybe 10 chapters but I hope yall enjoy.

Warnings: Dub con non con mean mc mc being a bitch and poking fun of Aemonds eye and spankings, mentions of sex and actual sex, ass fucking, orgasm denial and humiliation and slut shaming (tho they both quit that once they learn she is not the whore they thought her to be) mentions of owning dangerous protected animals (Mc owns a lion) (YES THAT'S BAD OK WE SHOULD PROTECT ALL ANIMALS!!!!!) MC HAS A SHOPPING ADDICTION. (This is not meant in a funny way she uses it to make herself literally be happy. I have the same thing so I know what I'm talking bout)

Mc when she is challenged (Basically picture a blonde mini Blair)

Aemond: (once you call him a charity project)

Aegon: (once you call him a drunk)

Mcs mother.

And Twyin if he was alive, describing Aemond and Aegon:

It's another bloody hot day in the hell called Kings landing. You and your friend, Harmonia Beesbury, just watch Criston Cole, and one of the princes fights in the yard. The king had three sons with the new queen, but they could take your head, and you wouldn't know their names.

They are going at it, completely lost in their little fake battle. Men. You don't understand.

Harmonia does. She has a smitten blush over her face with two glazy eyes. Cole and the prince circle each other like savages and also destroy a good shield. Which is likely paid with your family's coin. Savages.

You'll never understand men: They pretend to play war when there is no war, they fight in wars when there are wars, and if there aren't any wars: they make sure there are. They are so eager to die, and for what? To create a legacy? To become a legend? Most of them won't even be mentioned.

You whine a bit by your best friend. You like to shop. It makes you very happy to purchase new things. 'Harmonia; I've seen plenty. Shall we go do something useful and pleasant? Instead of watching this savagery?' You suggest.

Harmonia pouts a bit. 'I'd like to watch them finish.' Of course, she does. Harmonia is stuck with her nose in a book every moment of every day. For her, this is probably her ultimate fantasy, two knights fighting for her hand. Except they aren't fighting for her hand, just lame training.

Your eyes roll, and you sigh. 'You enjoy yourself doing that, I have an appointment in town.' You don't. But she doesn't know that, does she?

Harmonia sighs but follows along, grabbing your arm. 'Fine, fine.' She says. You grin. A Lannister always gets her way.

You two walk to the gates where another Dornish guard carrying the name Cole waits for you. It's ser Criston's bastard-born son, Mesan.

'Lady Lannister, Lady Beesbury' He says with a nod. You scoff at him. How dare he even look at you? He is filth. Harmonia gently greets him back with an innocent smile, but you lean in and try to keep your grins hidden.

You nod to the prince.

'Bastard, watch out. It seems like your father has found a new charity project to support.' You nod to where Cole applauds for the prince who bested him, pride written over his face. You see Mesan's jaw clench, and his eyes harden. You grin before leaving the keep, but not before you watch Mesan confront the prince.

---

You sit in the newest boutique in King's Landing. They just had your size done, and now you are fitting necklaces when the seamstress works on dresses.

'Leyonara, that was very unkind. Prince Aemond and Ser Mesan are not charity projects.' Harmonia says when you try two red with gold necklaces.

Your poor friend must be so confused. 'I didn't ask about them; I asked: what necklace looks better on me? The one with the golden locket or the heart one?' You say, ignoring her comments about the one-eyed charity project or the bastard.

Harmonia sighs. 'I'm serious, Leyonara.'

'Well, hello serious. I'm Leyonra.' You dryly say. 'I didn't come here to bitch about boys. I came here for a nice new necklace that will get me lovers and a new enemy.' You say.

'Prince Aemond is worth your respect. He is your prince. That you are a Lannister doesn't change that at all.'

You feel a bit icky just thinking of that one-eyed silver-haired man.

You decide on the locket. The heart is too soft. You add the Locket to your growing collection of jewellery. There is nothing a good shopping won't solve. 'He is not. I don't know why he is not sent to the wall yet. He is a waste here. He will never be king. Neither will his brother. At least Aegon has two eyes to make up for it.'

'Leyonora! They're our princes. We should treat them with respect-' You feel your lips curl but hide it very quickly when you drop the necklace in a jewelry box.

You turn around to face her and just see how worked up she got from your harmless argument. There is no question or doubt about it. You can read her very well. 'How long have you been in love with that mutilated monster?' You grin.

You try to calm it down but part of you finds it so ridiculous that she of all people fell for that....thing.

You go on. 'You know he will never marry you? He is royalty. He has to marry for his house.' You say, teasing but it works.

'I'm not stupid!' She growls nearly shouting at you. You lean in and grab her by her throat suddenly. You don't choke her, but you want her to understand you.

Your voice is thin as ice and cold as stone. 'Good. Get rid of those feelings. We are not men, dear. We will likely be married off and Aemond isn't exactly an option.' You don't want him to be.

Harmonia's big blue eyes soften.

'It's nice to fantasize, not? I mean...He has become handsome.' She touches a necklace as well. It's a silver one with a big blue sapphire.

You suppose?

You never really thought about him that way. 'He is forbidden. No need to dwell on him. He will only destroy your reputation and bring ruin to your house.' It's for the best to be like that. If you don't reach for the stars you will never fall.

You do see her heartbroken little face and feel bad instantly. A bit. You hope she knows you mean well. 'Come, let's pick a new necklace for you. I heard Aemond likes sapphires. Do you want a necklace? My treat.' She looks at the necklace she has been toying with since you entered this place.

'I'd be so embarrassed if he knew why I'd worn it.' You can imagine. It would be so embarrassing.

But the bigger part of you hates the thought of her holding back because of him. 'Fuck him. If you like to wear it, you wear it. He is the prince, not a god.'

'Alright...'

That night you enjoy a nice big cake. In your dream. Shirtless servants feed you and you count your diamonds happily...

Until there is a hard knock on your door like someone tried to personally hurt it. One of the newer servant boys enters and quickly bows. 'Lady Lannister-'

You cover yourself and scream at him. 'By the Seven! Do you wish me to die from a heart attack?!' You scream at him. 'I am not properly dressed! Do you know I could have your eyes poked out for this?' You continue berating him and even grab your golden lion statue that stands next to your bed ready to smash his brains in.

He gawks.

'I'm so sorry my lady, you have a visitor. That's all.' He scurries off.

You sigh. You get out of bed and put on your robe made of golden silk and brush your hair very quickly. You apply some light blush and put on earrings before leaving your room.

Inside your study, two men are waiting for you. You instantly feel the tension rise. One of the two is the charity project you insulted. The other is the brainless drunk you also insulted many times.

Aemond wears his usually black clothing and is busy inspecting your desk. Touching it and everything. You will ask them to clean it later for you.

Aegon waits on your sofa, toying with a pillow. You will replace that, just in case. 'I assume there is a good reason for you two to be here at this ungodly hour of the night?' You speak directly to Aemond. He is easier to insult.

He looks at you.

You hope he looks at your necklace and not your breasts. 'New necklace?' A very transparent desperate attempt.

You scoff, covering yourself even more. 'What do you take me for, a simpleton? Explain yourselves, or I will have you removed.'

Aemond chuckles at your threat. 'Hm. There are rumours you said something very improper about us.' He makes it sounds like you were complimenting them or fawning over them like some smitten girl.

You quickly clear it up.

'Don't flatter yourself, I was just insulting you.' You will not have them think you think of them. No. Not at all.

He blinks with one eye, very displeased. 'That's what I was referring to.' He says. 'Something about...a charity project? Did you know what was said, Aegon?' He asks his brother, but you just know he knows very well.

Aegon thinks, but surprisingly enough, he does remember something. 'Something about you being better off at the wall. How we were both useless, but at least I still had both my eyes. And she called me a drunk.' And so what? Where is the lie?

The other prince smiles sweetly at you, tilting his head a bit. 'Oh yes. That was it, indeed.'

They woke you for this nonsense. You regret not having your lion with you. 'Do you want me to apologise for hurting your feelings? Do you want me to take it all back? Maybe get on my knees and beg for forgiveness?' You suggest, sarcastic and mockingly.

'No.' Aemond speaks firmly. 'We have something else in mind.' You try to ignore the alarm bells ringing in your head and just keep calm. He comes closer and grabs your chin, touching your face when leaning in closer and closer. You feel your cheeks become red but don't pull away. You won't give him that satisfaction.

'What is that, exactly?' You ask, leaning in too so your noses can nearly touch. As can your lips. You can nearly taste the wine he had hours ago and it tastes so good just from the smell.

'Punishment.' You freeze.

'What?' You laugh. 'Punishment? Who are you, my father? My husband? My Septa? You don't decide when I have Punishment. You can't punish me I'm an adult.'

'I am very certain I can and I will. The question is: Will you make this easy and lower your Punishment or will you disobey and add to it?'

You understand finally how serious he is.

You look at his sitting brother. At him. At his daggers. And finally at the door. Aemond follows your gaze but he is never prepared for the kick you give him before running off. Aemond curses before following you.

You scream. A guard opens the door quickly and sees you and Aemond fighting. Well, Aemond dragging you and you just clawing at his face. 'Get him off of me!' You groan.

Aemond stares the guard down. 'I am your prince. Get out of here. You saw nothing. Understood?' He loses his patience and hits you across your face. You knock to the ground and feel your split lip.

The guard nods and leaves. You still scream at him enraged. 'No! You're supposed to protect me! I fucking pay you, you brainless imbecile! You worthless street rat!' Aemond chuckles.

You groan.

'I hate you!' You groan as he pulls your hair. 'I hate you, I hate you!' You don't want Punishment. It sounds scary and very unpleasant.

Aegon chims in.

'You'll accept it sooner rather than later. I think we'll start with a nice spanking to warm up. Then we can think of all the fun and dirty ways you will apologise to my brother and me.'

------

Twyin if he saw his ancestor alive and slowly getting closer to two royals.

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coryosbaby · 4 months

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ʟᴜᴄʀᴇᴛɪᴀ ᴍʏ ʀᴇꜰʟᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ !

Fandom: ‘House of the Dragon’

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x sister! Reader

Synopsis: You seek solace with your brother in his chambers after a humiliating incident with Aegon.

Content warning . mild mentions of misogyny and rape, canon-typical incest, nsfw. 18+, MDNI

Your body shakes as you wander the empty halls of the Targaryen castle desperately. Tears stream down your cheeks, your face on fire, as you make your way to your brother Aemond’s chambers.

Thankfully, the guards to his room have been dismissed and so have the servant girls. Your fists rap against the door, once, twice.

When Aemond opens the door, you fall into him.

Your arms wrap around him, your teary eyes burying into his chest. He tenses against your hold, confused, but after a moment his hands rest on your waist and he pulls you into his room. Closing the door behind him, he guides you over to the thick armchair sitting in front of his desk. Your ripped skirts trail across the stoned floor, your eyes red and puffy. Aemond gently pushes you down onto the cushions.

He’s silent, but his eyes are concerned and you hold your face in your hands. He reaches across to his desk and pulls out a handkerchief. His fingers gently grab your chin, and he wipes away your tears. You avoid his gaze as he lets out a heavy sigh.

“What has our brother done now, sweet sister?”

Your bottom lip wobbles as you try to keep from sobbing again.

“He humiliated me,” you say quietly, recalling the events from earlier. “He ripped my c-clothes in front of all of his friends. He called me a—“

You let out a choked sound, tears filling your eyes again at your husband’s cruelty.

“A what?”

“…A whore.”

Your voice cracks. Aemond’s jaw clenches, and his fingers tighten on each side of the armchair.

“Leave him to me.”

He moves to his feet, but your tiny fingers wrap around his much larger ones as you jump up to meet his towering height.

“Please, do not cause conflict with him at this hour. I beg of you.”

He looks at you through narrowed eyes. However close Aemond and his brother are, it doesn’t compare to your shared bond with him. Any ounce of disrespect aimed towards you may as well be directed at Aemond himself.

“Aegon needs to be held accountable,” he says sternly. His hands rest on your waist, and they’re soft. Not angry or violent like his raging thoughts at the given moment. He will always be gentle with you. “I’m sick of his antics. You are not some— some prize. You are the princess. You are to be respected.“

“Aemond,” you cry, your fingers gripping his forearms. “Please. Another night. Not now.”

He wants to ram a sword into his brother’s head delectably slow. But he mustn’t utter those words to you. Instead, he tries his best to stay calm and focus on your current state instead. Your dress— a purple thing with lace at the sleeves— is torn to shreds. Aemond takes note that this is your favorite dress. He will go to the seamstress tomorrow to have it remade from completely new fabrics, and then he will wring his brother’s neck with the old ones.

But for now, with you, he will be soft, gentle— he knows you like him best this way.

His thumb brushes against your neck, and he mumbles softly.

“You left your night dress in your chambers, sweetling.”

Heat flares in your cheeks at your brother’s nickname for you, one that he has called you since you were both teenagers. You chew on the inside of your cheek.

“I know.”

“I can have someone fetch them for you, if you’d like.”

“That’s alright,” you assure, rubbing soft circles into his wrist. “I would.. would it be okay, if I —“

“Borrowed something of mine?”

You nod, embarrassed, although you’ve slept in Aemond’s clothes many times. Being wrapped up in things of his makes you feel comforted, protected. Safe.

I would let all of these men fuck you if they decided it.

It was something Aegon had uttered drunkenly into your ear as he presented you to his friends, blatantly humiliating you. You swallow down the bile rising in your throat at the thought. How could one be so cruel? How could one treat their sister, their wife, as if she was some object? Some whore?

You shake the thoughts out of your head when Aemond takes hold of your hand and pulls you towards his bed. You don’t take a seat just yet, watching as Aemond disappears for a moment only to reappear with a cream colored sleep shirt in his hands.

“Let’s get you out of this, shall we?”

You nod to him, blushing, and his fingers nimbly slide against your back as he turns you around. He begins to unlace the corset back of your dress, sliding the fabric off of your shoulders and down to the floor. Next comes your underthings— cushion-ey soft fingers trail down your spine as all of it drops off of you, and you’re on fire.

You’ve been naked around Aemond before— this is no different from other times. He’s your your best friend— your big brother, after all, and sleepovers are not new. But regardless, you still quiver with nerves and something else you can’t quite place.

After this, Aemond grasps the sleep shirt and slides it over your head. It drops down to your knees, and his large hands pull your hair out from underneath the neckline.

“There,” he murmurs. “All better.”

You turn around to face him, and for the first time tonight your face twitches into a small, happy smile. Aemond presses a kiss to your head.

“Sleep, little one.”

You slide underneath the covers, piling underneath Aemond’s large comforter. He begins to unbutton his shirt, pulling it off of his shoulders and unbuttoning his pants. Next comes his eye patch— his uttermost insecurity that he feels no shame for when he’s with you and you only. He slips it off and places it on the nightstand. He slides in next to you, clad in his undergarments. He presses into your side and wraps a strong arm around your stomach. You sigh, relaxing and basking in the man’s warmth. Tiredness takes over you, and Aemond presses a kiss to your neck. It’s so utterly soft, his lips pillowy and plump. Your lashes flutter.

“Aemond,” you breathe. “Avy jorrāaelan, lēkia.”

(I love you, brother.)

He pauses, breathing heavily against you. He doesn’t say it back, but he doesn’t have to. You already know that he loves you, too.

Your drowsy body moves of its own accord, and you turn over to face him.

You admire him in the low candlelight. His perfectly tousled hair, the curve of his cheekbones, the turquoise jewel in replacement of his eye. You wonder how different it would’ve been if he had been your betrothed.

Your lips press against his, soft and passionate. It’s the first kiss you’ve ever shared with each other, and Aemond sighs against your lips, finally giving in to your sweetness. His hand finds purchase on your hip, and yours move to his hair. He doesn’t let anyone touch his hair but you.

Shy touches soon give way to the exploration of the each other’s bodies. Your hand trails across his chest, down past his navel. You don’t touch him there— not yet, though the bulge in his underwear makes it incredibly tempting. His fingers travel across your collarbone and skim over your breasts. When you pull away from him, your face is incredibly hot.

“I need you.” you say to him, doe eyes staring up at him. Aemond holds back with a heaving chest and a form of self taught control. He almost gasps for breath as he grips your waist.

“Tell me again.”

It comes out a lot more demanding than expected. He growls it, needy and desperate. You whine, your cunt aching.

“I need you,” you say. “Take me. I am yours.”

He can’t deny you this request. He lifts your leg, places it over his own so your back is pressed against his and you’re still spread out for him. He lifts your his night shirt, exposing your cunt that he had left unclothed. His fingers slide against your swollen clit, making you mewl and clench desperately for him. He rubs slow, deliberate circles, getting you perfectly slick and pliant for his cock. When he’s pleased with how wet you are, he pulls out his thick length. He presses his cockhead against your folds, groaning at the wet heat of you.

“Seven…” He sighs, and can’t help but press into your hole, his cock dribbling precum as he makes his way inside your gummy walls. “Such iā ȳrda, needy riñītsos”

(Such a tight, needy little girl.)

Your mouth drops open, emmiting angelic whimpers and moans as he fills you. He starts slow, deep, moving his hips at a steady pace, savoring the feeling of your hole sucking him in. His balls hit your ass, heavy and filled to the brim with cum that he’s oh so desperate to fuck into you. Your tiny fingers curl against his hip, forcing him to stay inside, to keep you safe and sane. He grunts into your ear, feeds you delicious affections and promises.

“You have such a perfect cunny, sweet sister,” he praises hotly. “You mustn’t worry anymore. I’m going to take care of you,” and then, with a gasp emitting out of him, “You are my light, my darling girl.”

You can’t say anything, only arch against his gentle thrusts and grind against him with affection in your heart. He holds you like you’re made of glass, and he fucks you just the same.

It isn’t long before his fingers find your pearl again, drawing a sob out of you as your orgasm unfurls. It’s strong, nothing like the weak, untouched ones you get from Aegon. No, this is powerful— white hot heat curls up in your tummy, spreads down to your toes, and your ears ring with the force. The sound of you coming undone is what has Aemond reaching his peak thereafter. His hips stutter, his balls draw up tight, and he spills inside you with a loud moan. He rides out his high with your name tumbling from his lips like an adulterated prayer.

When he stills, he makes no move to pull out of you. He lays, breathes against your skin, his platinum blonde locks spilling over your shoulder. Your hand finds his, post orgasm haze taking over your psyche. After a moment, Aemond begins to speak.

“Our brother is a fool, sweet sister.” He mumbles. “He will burn eternally for what he has done to you.”

Your fucked out mind agrees. You smile, basking in the after glow of sex, of Aemond. You press yourself against him and dream of sweet nothings, of a different, familiar husband and children’s feet pattering softly against tile stone.

All the while, Aemond’s seed sits heavily inside your womb and the baby inside you begins to grow.

:: @mysticpenguincreation @nightmare-niko @iheartinkonpaper @claireyberryy @becauseseaotters @emmalandry

#bunny writes ͟͟͞☆#aemond targaryen #aemond Targaryen x reader #aemond Targaryen x fem! reader #aemond Targaryen x sister! reader #aemond Targaryen smut #aemond Targaryen fanfic #dom! Aemond Targaryen #sub! reader #Aemond Targaryen blurb #hotd #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #aemond house of the dragon #Aegon Targaryen

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flowerandblood · 2 months

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The Taste of Shame NSFW Alphabet

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

NSWF Alphabet for Aemond from my mini series The Taste of Shame made for my one year celebration. I show his perspective of what it looked like with his clients and his girl. Dirty things below.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after the act)

With his little girl, whether she feels safe, whether she's comfortable, whether she's okay and needs anything is essential. Immediately after they finish he asks her if everything is alright, brings her water and some wet wipes, cleaning her gently between her thighs, praising her and how wonderful he felt with her, placing soft, tender kisses on her naked, sweaty body. 100% commitment.

He did the bare minimum with his clients. He always made sure they had water to drink standing next to them on the cupboard and wipes, but did not help them or participate in anything after the sexual act itself, approaching it professionally and without emotion.

B = Body part (favorite body part their own or their lovers)

In his sweet girl's case, her hair, her eyes and her breasts. He loves to clench his hand in her hair when he fucks her from behind, and he's also jealous when, during meeting him for dates, she doesn't wear a bra under her dress or shirt, unhappy that other men can look at her too. He clearly shows her his displeasure afterwards in bed, after which she always finds it hard to sit on her bottom the next day.

In his female clients case, nothing. He didn't focus on whether he liked something about them or not, it was just his job.

C = Cum (anything that has to do with it)

Always inside her.

With his female clients, he always used condoms.

D = Dirty secret (Pretty self explanatory)

His work was his one big dirty secret, plz.

E = Experience (do they know what they’re doing)

He is very experienced and knows exactly what to do to prepare a woman well for what will happen next, with his little girl, however, he is more careful, knowing that she is more delicate than the women who have been his clients, not wanting to hurt her or overdo it. Her comfort always comes first. He just wants to make love to her, any way she allows him to do so satisfies him.

F = Favorite position

The missionary position, in which he holds her wrists above her head with one hand and keeps his balance using the other, thrusting into her at such an angle that she cries out and begs him to fill her, to kiss her, to let him touch her.

His power over her and how sweet she is turns him on so much that even though he teases her for a long time, he finally gives her what she needs, kissing her like a starved man, quickening his pace, allowing her to embrace him as he nears his peak.

Apart from that, any other in which he can watch himself open her wide on his fat cock. Something about the sight makes him lose his temper and fuck her like crazy.

With his female clients each where he didn't have to look at their face.

G = Goofy (how serious are they)

With her, they often laugh when they get something wrong or she asks him a silly question, inexperienced, he often then kisses her cheeks blushing with shame, explaining everything to her patiently and with care.

Completely serious with his female clients, straight to the point.

H = Hair (grooming habits)

Trimmed and cleaned. His hygiene is very important to him.

I = Intimacy (in the moment romantic or rough/dirty)

Very affectionate and caring towards his sweet girl. Whenever he wants to do something new he takes his time to explain to her exactly what it would involve and asks her how she would feel about it, if she would like to try it.

Every time he sees discomfort on her face when they start, uncertainty or fear he stops, kissing her nose, saying: let's make love then, taking her more gently and slowly than usual, reassuring her that he loves her and she is never a disappointment to him, his sweet little baby.

When a new position or toy pleases her, he praises her, muttering in her ear that she is brave and has done wonderfully well for him.

No intimacy with his female clients. He didn't ask their names and they would call him 'sir' themselves. He wanted no intimacy with them, although many of them aspired to it and filled his email inbox with messages after their sessions.

J = Jack off (do they masturbate and how often)

He was doing this before he started his job and thinking about his girl when he still thought their relationship had no chance. When they started being together he stopped, 100% fulfilled with her.

K = Kink (kinks what they like possibly unusual)

Everything to do with domination. Hand tying, punishments, full control. He trusts his little girl, so sometimes when she desires it he lets her ride him, still controling the situation though, just looking at her adoringly, coming inside her involuntarily.

L = Location (where they like to get it on)

With his little girl wherever he is sure that her body cannot be seen by anyone but him and when he is sure she is comfortable.

With his female clients only in a separate flat that he has rented for his work.

M = Motivation (things that makes them tick/turn ons)

Her behaviour, the way she talks to him. Sometimes he feels like crying in front of her, hearing how well she understands him, that she does not judge him, that she loves and supports him. He then involuntarily seeks her closeness, which often, though not always, ends in an intimate closeness.

Sometimes, simply while looking at her from afar, he gets an idea and is turned on by the very thought of seeing her in some position or some situation. He is then like a predator waiting for an opportunity.

In the case of his female clients, his motivation was easy money. He tried not to think about what he was doing during the act itself and drift off with his thoughts, imagining some women he has seen in pornographic films.

N = No (turnoffs or absolutely won’t do)

With his little girl there is hardly a thing he would not agree to, apart from some heavy domination on her part, tying his hands etc.

In the case of his female clients, he never allowed them to kiss him or touch him with their hands. He could put his cock down their throats, but he wasn't going to touch them with his tongue between their thighs without knowing who touched them there before him.

O = Oral (receiving or giving and how skillful they are)

He is the king of spending time between his little girl's thighs. If he could, he would fall asleep cuddled up to her warm womanhood. He loves her taste and how she responds to his caresses.

He lets her reciprocate at her request, never demanding it himself, and takes his time, watching the sight of his cock disappearing deep down her throat, trying not to come too soon, whispering how wonderful she looks with her mouth full of him.

He could shove his cock into his clients' mouths if they so agreed in the rules beforehand, but they couldn't hope for reciprocation.

P = Pace (how fast they are and how long they last in bed)

With his little girl he sometimes comes faster than he wishes. It just feels too good.

With his female clients he could last a very long time, not of his own volition. It was just hard for him to get really aroused and often he had to be just more violent towards them to come.

Q = Quickie (do they prefer fast and hard)

Depending on the situation, sometimes he does it very slowly when she craves a slightly more tender, calm rapprochement, where they stroke, kiss and whisper to each other, and sometimes they fuck like animals, even more so if they haven't seen each other for a long time, which for them is 2-3 days.

With his female clients he was always quick. He saw no point in doing it slowly.

R = Risk (do they like to try new things)

He enjoys taking risks with her, but not at the expense of her comfort. Her safety and well-being is always his priority.

With his female clients, he had done every single thing they wanted, even the most fucked-up, as long as it did't require them to touch him or kiss him.

S = Stamina (how many times they can go and how long each round lasts)

After resting for a while, all it takes is for her soft buttocks to rub against him and he's ready for action again, if she feels like it. If not, he just snuggles into her and falls asleep.

With his female clients he only did this only once per meeting, no more. He always kept an eye on the time and was not interested in repeats beyond his schedule.

T = Toys (are they game for using sex toys on themselves or lovers)

He uses this kind of toys on her that increase her sensation and pleasure. He wants her to cry out in front of him with delight.

With his female clients, every one they wanted. What turned him on the most was causing them pain, as if he was taking it out on them that they dared to come to him and ask him to do all these fucked-up things to them.

U = Unfair (how do they tease or do they enjoy suspense themselves)

He adores denying her and prolonging her orgasms, but trying not to overdo it, loving watching his sweet girl beg him for fulfillment in tears. He assures her what a good girl she is and that she just needs to endure it a little longer, that he will reward her soon.

If his client annoyed him, he would be more brutal towards them than usual, much to their delight.

V = Volume (are they loud, what sounds, and do they talk)

He allows himself to be loud around her, panting and sometimes groaning low in pleasure, unable to express otherwise how good he feels deep inside her, usually losing control of himself just before orgasm.

Quiet panting and grunting was the most his clients could count on.

W = Wild card (random canon of any sort)

He fingered his girl in the kitchen, knowing that her parents and brother were nearby in the living room.

As for his clients, one once enraged him so much by touching him against his will that he almost strangled her and she fainted. He was terrified and wanted to call an ambulance, but she woke up after couple of seconds saying that it was amazing and that she wanted to continue.

He asked her to leave, did not take money from her and did not allow her to come to him again even though she begged him to let her.

X = X-ray (what’s down below in dem pants)

Something doing miracles.

Y = Yearning (sexdrive level)

He is totally into her. He loves spending time with her outside of bed, taking her for a walks and dates, often talking to her for long hours, relying heavily on her and respecting her opinion. When he looks at her, the desire to make love is a natural result of his intense inner need for her closeness.

It didn't matter with his clients. He worked like clockwork.

Z = Zzzz (do they sleep after if so how quickly after)

He only falls asleep when he knows she is safe. Sometimes he can't sleep thinking about whether he overdid it during their intimacy or hurt her by accident.

He fight with himself then and eventually wake her up in the middle of the night, asking her, devastated, if everything was okay, and only calms down when she hugs him, calling him silly, snuggling into his chest with soft purr.

He never fell asleep next to his clients, but they sometimes fell asleep after orgasm, infuriating him because he had to reprimand them and ask them to leave.

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aemondsbabygirl · 1 year

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Was anyone else super turned on from that scene when Aemond shouts :

“Give me your eye, or I will take it bastard!” ?

I mean listen :

Everybody talks about the dagger twirl, which is indeed sexy, but his tone and voice when he shouts at Luke and lunges at him??

Just end me already.

#aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd #aemond one eye #I’d have given him more than my eye ngl #I am a fan of men losing control which emphasizes why I should go to therapy #it’s the counterpart of daemon’s breathless wed her to me line #one is soft dom and the other is furious dom #and i love them both #also sorry for the shitty quality of the video it’s the sound that counts

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dilemmaontwolegs · 1 year

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Across The Darkened Room {1}

Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader || Modern AU Summary: A night out to your favourite sex club takes a turn when a distraction nearly costs you dearly, a distraction by the name of Aemond Targaryen of the Targaryen dynasty and owner of the BDSM club Red Keep. Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, spiked drink, alcohol, mentions of BDSM WC: 3k

Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Part Five || Part Six || Part Seven ||

The moment you laid your eyes on him you knew he was something special. Everything about him radiated confidence and he had the swagger of a man that knew exactly what he wanted. He was enthralling to watch as he made his way through to the parting crowd to the bar and you were not the only one captured by his entrance.

“Don’t bother even thinking about him, sweetcheeks,” a stranger said with a bite of jealousy in his tone. “That’s Aemond Targaryen.”

Your lips parted with an appreciative sigh as you placed your chin on your hand and watched the bartender reach for the vintage bottle Macallan that cost more than your rent.

The Targaryen’s were infamous in King’s Landing. A thousand years ago the city was ruled by the very same family and although the monarchy dissolved the family remained in positions of power. Aemond’s older brother, Aegon, was the current head of the family and religiously spent his nights screwing his way through the socialites. But Aemond, you knew little of, hardly anything was ever seen of him in the tabloids.

As if your thoughts drew his attention from across the room, he turned with his whiskey in hand and caught you staring. You dropped your hand that you were resting on and sat up, glancing down at your drink as you pretended you hadn’t been checking him out.

Like most others in the club he wore some form of leather and oozed sex appeal, but beyond that was a dark aura of mystery that clung to him as tight as his dark wash jeans. His long silver hair glowed even with the dim mood lighting and you wondered if it felt as soft as it looked.

“Is this your first time here too?” the stranger beside you asked and you jumped a little as you forgot he was even there. “What’s your kink?”

“Oh, no, I’ve been coming to The Red Keep for a while now,” you murmured as you tried to be polite and make small talk despite the distraction in the corner of your eye. “Subbing mostly.”

The man sat back on his stool and cast his eyes over you, the look darkening with each second that passed and an uncomfortable pit settled in your stomach. Tipping your drink back, you quickly finished the strong cocktail before excusing yourself.

You waved to a few of the other regulars that frequented the BDSM club but since your last partner had left the city you hadn’t found the right person to play with. You hadn’t connected with anyone so far and you wouldn’t trust just anyone to keep you safe in the vulnerable state, so you waited.

The bar of the club sat central in the inconspicuous building with corridors branching off to various rooms. Some were private like hotel rooms, some were specific for categorical kinks like the room with glass walls for the voyeurs and exhibitionists, and there were the jacuzzis and bathing pools for relaxation and aftercare.

You decided that your night would not be wasted daydreaming about the enticing Targaryen in the bar when you could be up to your neck in a hot tub. The dimly lit corridor seemed to sway as you walked along and you reached out for the wall as your legs turned to lead.

“What the hell?” you slurred as the ground swelled up to meet you but a pair of hands saved you from the fall.

“I’ve got you,” the somewhat familiar voice said. “We’re going to have some fun.”

The face blurred in and out of focus as you were half dragged down the hall towards the private rooms and you struggled against the hold. Your mind was still sharp but your body would not listen to you as you tried to kick the stranger from the bar and scream for help. It was no use, whatever drug he had slipped you was already working.

“What do you think you are doing?”

Your head lolled weakly as you tried to look at the newcomer and plead his help but your mouth was drier than a desert.

“Just enjoying a night out with my girl. Mind your own business.”

A low growl that reminded you of the caged animals you had seen at the zoo echoed down the hall. “This. Is. My. Business.”

You were shoved aside and pain radiated your back as you hit the wall and slumped to the ground. Two fuzzy figures went down on the carpeted corridor and a flash of white hair told you who it was that had come to your rescue.

He was all you could see, all you could focus on and he straddled the stranger he was assaulting. You should have been repulsed by the uncontrolled violence he unleashed but it paled to what the stranger had planned for you.

“Aemond,” you muttered, your voice wavering and weak. “You’re gonna…kill him.”

Aemond froze with his bloody hand raised and turned to you with a wild look in his eye. Across the darkened room in the bar you hadn’t noticed the scar that ran across his left eye but with him so close you could see that one eye was almost violet while the other was a sapphire.

“He deserves to die.”

You blinked trying to process that as his fist shook like he was losing the fight to restrain it. “You’re not…a god, that’s not…up to you.” Your tongue was heavy and swollen in your mouth and each word was a struggle to vocalise.

The curse under his breath was barely audible before he dropped his fist and sat back on his heels to sneer at the unconscious lump of a man beneath him. The sigh of relief from you turned to a groan as the room spun around you and Aemond was there in an instant, his hands gently cupping your face as he asked you to keep your eyes open for him.

“Can’t,” you whispered as you tried to fight the darkness closing in. “Too tired.”

Your head ached when you woke between satin sheets and the pain radiated to behind your eyes as you blinked away the haze of sleep.

A dim glow around the edge of blackout curtains provided the only light to the room and you slowly pushed yourself off the soft pillows to look around. The memories were slippery as you tried to grasp them and remember what happened but all you could recall was Aemond.

You found him with ease despite the low light and he was watching you from a chair across the room. He still wore the same clothes as you had last seen him in, skinny jeans tucked into leather boots that almost reached his knees and a leather coat over his fitted black dress shirt. He was the living testament to tall, dark and handsome.

“Thank you,” you croaked as your throat protested the sound and you reached for the glass of water that was already set beside the bed. “I should have been paying more attention.”

His eyebrows furrowed and he rose from the chair, the leather he wore creaking with the movement. “I should have been paying more attention,” he said as he stepped closer. “My club is renowned as a safe space and that reputation was put at risk by a man that should not have been permitted entrance. I have already spoken with security and made amends to the screening process so something like this does not happen again.”

He took a seat on the edge of the bed and you gripped the sheets covering your lap as you felt foolish for finding yourself in the position you were in. Cool fingertips curled under your chin and tipped your face back so you were facing the Targaryen magnate. “None of this is your fault.”

“I know,” you replied meekly.

“Do you?” he asked as he tilted his head inquisitively. “I’m pretty good at reading people and it looks to me like you’re blaming yourself.”

“I should have been watching my drink instead of…”

“Staring at me?” he finished as you trailed off to an awkward silence. “I’m used to it, a thousand carat sapphire has that effect.”

“I didn’t notice it until you nearly killed…oh my god, you could’ve killed that guy!” Your eyebrows furrowed together as you took Aemond’s hands and saw the evidence before you. “What if he reports you to the City Watch? You could go to prison.”

Aemond laughed and the sound was decadent like rich chocolate. “I assume you know who my family is?” You gave a small nod and the corner of his lips curled up. “The City Watch wouldn’t dare touch me and anyway, if I wanted him dead, he would be dead…He’s only going to wish he was.”

You gulped at the ominous tone and wanted to ask where the man was now but found a little voice in your head stopping you. Whatever happened was not on your conscience.

“So if you weren’t staring at my eye, why were you looking at me?” Aemond asked, and you realised you were still holding his hands.

“Everyone in the entire club was looking at you.”

“I didn’t ask about everyone else, I want to know why you were.” He leaned closer and you caught the woodsy scent of his cologne that seemed at odds with his social status. Most men of money you had met wore a sharper cologne that was as overpowering as their need to win a pissing contest. “Why were you staring at me?”

The authority in his tone was felt along your spine and your lips parted with the answer before you could think of stopping as you dropped your eyes to your lap. “I couldn’t help myself. The way you hold yourself, your presence is so dominating that I couldn’t look away.”

“Ah,” he murmured as rose to his feet and stepped away. “Where is your dom? They should have been watching out for you.”

“Oh,” you sighed sadly, “Arryk moved to Dorne a few months ago.”

“And you haven’t found another since?”

“I haven’t found the right one yet, though your staff have been wonderful in trying.”

Aemond frowned as he took his seat again and crossed a leg over his knee. His fingers rubbed along the seam of his jeans and his lips pursed as he contemplated silently. He knew most of the elite members who frequented his business but Arryk and you were not in the top tier whose membership cost more than a year of your wages.

“What was so special about your dom?”

You shrugged and picked at the non-existent fluff on the sheets. “He wasn’t just a dom, he was a sadist too.”

“There are very few of those here,” Aemond said with an agreeable nod. “It is in their nature to forget safety protocol when things get a little too hot. They are often bad for business.”

Your back straightened and the sheets released from your grip as a flutter of hope blossomed from his word. “But there are others? Are any of them unmatched?”

“One.” Aemond’s phone pinged and he slipped the device from his pocket to see the notification before sighing. “I need to take care of something. Rest and I will be back shortly to continue this conversation.”

He left before you could even answer, sweeping from the room without a goodbye.

Left alone, you looked around the room and found it was far nicer than the private room in the Red Keep. It could have been one in the upper floors or even the penthouse but you doubted Aemond would bring a stranger to his own personal suite.

You spotted your handbag that had been in the lockers of the changing rooms and tossed the sheets back, swaying a little as you rose too quickly, before grabbing it and finding your phone amongst your belongings. “Shit,” you cursed as you saw it was almost noon and you were going to be late for work.

Forgetting Aemond’s instruction to rest, you slipped your shoes on and slung your bag over your shoulder before opening the door he had left through. Bright sunlight exasperated the throbbing pain in your head and you blinked through the burn before seeing that the light came from floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the picturesque harbour. This wasn’t just a penthouse above the club, this was a mansion - and it was nowhere near Red Keep.

A huge staircase wrapped around a central pillar and you followed the spiral down as you opened the app for Uber, praying a driver wasn’t too far away.

“Going somewhere?”

You nearly missed the bottom step as Aemond stepped out of a room, his leather coat discarded and the sleeves of his fitted business shirt rolled up to his elbow.

“I have to get to work,” you stammered as your heart beat rapidly against your sternum.

“I thought I told you to rest,” he said as he sauntered closer, each tap of his polished shoes making you jump slightly. “You’ve had quite the ordeal.”

“I don’t think my boss would have much sympathy and unfortunately I can’t afford to call in sick.”

His lips pressed as if he had to think about the implications and you could see it wasn’t something he was familiar with, but that came as no surprise.

“I really should go, but thank you for, um, well, everything.” You skirted around him as your phone vibrated and you sighed with relief that a nearby driver was on his way.

His hand caught your wrist and stopped you from passing him completely before he plucked your phone from your hands.

“Hey!” you growled as he cancelled the trip and closed the app. “That was my ride.”

“We still have a conversation to finish, and I have a car.”

He released your hand and turned on his heel, holding your phone up over his shoulder with a wave that told you to follow him if you wanted it back. With a frustrated sigh you ceded and skipped to catch up before he disappeared deeper into the mansion.

“This isn’t a car,” you gasped as he hit a lightswitch and a cavernous room lit up to reveal almost a dozen vehicles. “Why do you have so many?”

Aemond shrugged as he opened a cupboard and trailed his fingers over the car keys hanging from the hooks. “Because I can.”

You couldn’t even recognise some of the cars’ makes but you did know it was a Ferrari he chose from the yellow badge with a rearing horse. It was unfathomable to you that he could just buy such ostentatious objects without the need for them.

“And the Red Keep, is that something else you own just because you can?”

He stopped swinging the keys around his finger and caught them in his fist. “No, the Red Keep is more personal.”

“Oh,” you murmured as he stopped before the candy red race car and opened the passenger door for you. You chewed the inside of your cheek as the tan leather interior screamed money and you hesitated to climb inside.

“Something wrong?” Aemond asked, his closeness surprising you as he waited beside the door. “We could take something else if you prefer.”

You looked over the lineup and realised this was by far the most inconspicuous of the lot, even if it was the colour of a firetruck. “No!” you said too quickly and his lips twitched into a smile that passed too fast to be considered one. “This is fine.”

You were still wearing the leather and lace dress you wore to the club and the short skirt slipped high up your thigh as you slid into the seat that felt like it was barely above the road. You could feel Aemond’s stare on the bare skin and knew that from above he would have a clear line of sight down your cleavage, a thought that made your chest swell with the shaky breath you took.

“Something wrong?” you asked as you bravely looked up at him beneath your lashes. He rewarded your bravery with a real smile and shook his head before closing the door and going to his side.

The drive went by quickly as Aemond sped along the city streets, fearless to the City Watch that patrolled the streets. It was only when he pulled up to the apartment block that you lived in that you realised you hadn’t given him one direction.

“That’s not worrisome at all…” you murmured as he turned the engine off and ignored the envious stares of the gang bangers that dealt their drugs from the block corners.

“I found it in your file after you passed out, I was trying to find your emergency contact.”

It had been empty since Arryk left since you could hardly have your parents listed, god forbid they ever receive a call that their daughter was found in a sex club. You would possibly die of shame if they ever learned what you enjoyed behind nondescript doors in the industrial side of town.

“Right, that makes more sense,” you admitted with a small laugh. “Thank you for the ride.”

“It was my pleasure,” he said as he watched you with a wry smile as you tried to figure out how to open the door. “Allow me.” He leaned across your body and pressed a button, a button not a handle, while you inhaled that rich scent of his. “Come to the club next Saturday.”

“I can’t,” you said with a frown, “it’s closed for the elite event.”

“Nevermind that, you can be my plus one.” He sat back in his seat and enjoyed the shock that flitted across your face. “The unmatched sadist will be there. It will be the perfect opportunity to test your compatibility.”

You perked up and unclipped your buckle so you could lean across the centre console and surprised Aemond with a hug. “Thank you,” you gushed a little breathlessly as you buried your head in his neck. “You don’t know what this means to me.”

His hand ran soothingly along your spine and you were so distracted by the gentle touch you nearly missed his whispered words, “I do.”

Click here for part two.

#aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond fanfiction #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x reader #tw: drugged #dom!aemond #sub!reader #modern!aemond

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nakedcows · 1 year

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Hello! I gotta request. I love Aemond as many of the girlies do. But I never find fics for the plus size girls. I’m a firm believer that Aemond would like a plus size woman. When you have a moment of time I’d love to see a plus size reader x Aemond type fic. Of course I’d be here for some spice too. I’d just really like to see more representation ☺️ thank you for your time and I hope you have a wonderful day!

A/N: I'm terribly sorry for the delay. I had a draft ready that didn't save so my inspiration took a big hit. I haven't thought about it before, but now that you say it I do think Aemond would lean more toward plus sized women. I can't explain why i just feel like it falls inline with his character. Thank you for your request!!

summary: Aemond gifts Y/n new clothes that inspire her to take the lead tonight

warnings: smut p n v, slight degrading (not of the reader), body shaming (it's not very much don't worry), sub Aemond

Word count 1.4k

Y/n was entranced by the stranger staring back at her in the mirror. The woman standing in her mirror resembled the fair ladies from books she had read as a girl. Ones where brave knights fight to the death and love-struck monarchs conquer kingdoms for the chance to embrace their true love.

The emerald green dress she wore had no sleeves and hung off her shoulders. Y/n was not used to dressing in such a manner she had become accustomed to frumpy, loose fitted clothing that hid her figure. Y/n’s mother had insisted that despite the high ranking of their house, it was imperative to hide the plump figure she had inherited from her to guarantee proposals from the lords of the court. However, her dear Aemond had thought otherwise. He began to court Y/n and questioned why a lady of her rank wore such ill-fitting clothing. After Y/n had confided in Aemond about her mother's advice, he disposed of her dresses and commissioned a new wardrobe of custom-made dresses with matching jewelry for his love. Y/n admired her newfound figure and how her bodice hugged her thick waist instead of hanging loosely. Layers of skirt gracefully laid against her wide hips complimented with embroidery. The mousy-looking girl had disappeared under hair tied in intricate braids decorated with rare jewels and a beauteous dress accentuating her curved figure. Y/n always felt as though she was meant to be invisible, to blend into the background unnoticed and unmentioned unless she was needed. But now, with her full body glittering in the open free to be seen, she felt confident.

“You are enchanting, my love,” Aemond said. He had briefly left for Y/n to dress and retrieve the final piece to her ensemble. Aemond stood behind her, unable to break his gaze from her captivating, newfound appearance.

Aemond delicately clasped a sapphire necklace cut from the same gem in his eye.

“What do you think, dear heart?” he asked as his hands drifted from Y/n’s neck to her shoulders

“I think it’s... perfect,” she said, gliding her hands under her plump chest. “I look perfect.” Y/n smiled brightly at her reflection. The rush of finally recognizing the glowing beauty in her mirror was the same modestly dressed woman that she saw a few hours ago. Y/n felt invincible at this moment she could do anything, say anything and the surefooted woman in her mirror would protect her from fear and persecution with a glance. She turned to Aemond with a new vigor. It was an unfamiliar feeling that bubbled in her core and climbed up to her chest. Aemond had always taken the lead. He led when they held hands when they kissed, and he led when they were intimate. But tonight, she would take command. Y/n grabbed the back of Aemond’s head greedily, pulling him flush against her body for a languid kiss. Aemond grinned into the kiss, stroking her rounded hips, causing the sensation in her core to swell. Y/n slowly pulled from him. Her whole body felt as though someone had set aflame her from the inside.

“You promised me once that you would do anything for me. I need only ask. Is that still true? Y/n asked, meeting his eyes.

“Of course, my dear,” the fingers on his neck glided into his hair to stroke his scalp.

“Then get on your knees for me,” Y/n’s light stroking turned into a tight grip as she yanked Aemond’s head back by his hair. Aemond breath hitched from the sudden tension on his scalp. Y/n had never done this before yet as he prostrated himself before her the hand in his hair leading him to kneel, he felt the blood rushing to his cock.

“What do you wish of me Y/n?”

“Hmm I don’t think using my name suits you very well my dear,” she said smirking.

“Oh?”

“No, you are a proper gentleman are you not? Then you should refer to me like one. I think ‘My lady’ will do for now, don’t you?” Aemond felt his breeches tighten as she leaned in and paused just before their lips met.

“Answer me Aemond.”

“Yes, my lady,” Y/n closed the gap between them, devouring his lips. Aemond could hear his heart pounding as his member began to throb. He was used to being in control. There was safety in control letting that part of him slip for even a second led to disaster. Aemond craved rest for someone to ease that unmoving tension in his mind and giving his power to Y/n would do just that.

“Good boy, strip and lay on the bed for me,” she said releasing his hair. Aemond stood from his spot on the floor in favor of removing his doublet and breeches before laying on the bed desperate to obey. Aemond felt his length harden as Y/n waltzed up to the bed and slowly skipped out of her sleeves pulling her bodice down, exposing her full breast and removed her small clothes, leaving her the remainder of her dress on. His red tip now peaked out from the protection of its fleshy folds at the sight. His shy elegant lady turned dominating temptress. Aemond reached down to stroke himself but was met with a quick slap.

“Proper gentlemen don’t touch themselves, Aemond. It is quite unseemly,” she said, climbing onto the bed to straddle him.

“Y-Yes my lady.”

“You know improper gentlemen believe they are owed the pleasure they crave-” Y/n pulled her skirt up, revealing thick plush thighs coated in slick from her dripping mound, causing Aemond’s breath to quicken and his cock to throb. “But a proper gentleman asks for his desires, doesn’t he, Aemond? Why don’t you ask me for what it is you desire my dear?” Y/n lowered herself a bit allowing Aemond’s tip to just barely graze her entrance. Aemond gasped, trying to hold himself together. Whenever he had coupled with Y/n, Aemond would take her hips and impale her with his length whenever he felt the urge, yet at this moment doing such a thing without her explicit permission felt as though he would be committing an unforgivable sin of the highest caliber.

“Please my lady, use my cock.” Aemond said, bringing his hands up and sinking his fingers into her soft hips.

“Hmm I don’t know. You don’t seem to want me enough. Perhaps I should stop,” she said slowly lowering her skirt. The gentle throbbing of Aemonds cock developed into torturous ache.

“No, my lady, please I need you. Please let me fill your cunny. I need it. I’m throbbing for you. I need to fill you around me my lady,” Y/n grinned and lifted her skirt once more.

“There you go sweet boy begging for me like a proper gentleman,” Y/n dropped onto his cock taking him all at once. Normally Y/n would ask Aemond to be slow and gentle with her, but here and now, consumed by her newfound vigor, she didn’t want to be gentle. She didn’t want to be delicate. She wanted to take everything for herself. Y/n sank, allowing Aemond to bottom out. He could feel her cunt constrict around his cock as if she wanted to meld him into her insides. Her folds would only briefly release him from their tight grip before clenching around him once again. Y/n could feel Aemond’s cock pulsating inside her. The tip of his cock pressed against the spongy back of her cunt. Y/n rocked her hips, enthralled by how the sensation of absolute control enhanced her pleasure. Aemond felt as though he was unraveling every time Y/n’ hips dropped to meet his. Aemond was consumed with an unrelenting craving that devoured his entire being. He needed her. He needed more.

“Faster my lady! Please, I need more of you!”

“Good boy asking so nicely for his lady,” Y/n sped up, bouncing on Aemond’s cock quicker, the heat in her core building to a peak ready to snap at any moment. Y/n reached for Aemond’s hands. She pressed his left hand against her pearl and held onto his right one. Aemond rolled small circles on Y/n’s pearl already covered in her slick and tangled his fingers with hers. Adding pressure to the sensitive bud when their hips met each other.

“I’m going to cum. Are you ready, Aemond?” she said leaning down, losing herself in his violet eye.

“Yes please, I need to feel you cum around me my lady!” she couldn’t hold on any longer. Squeezing Aemonds hand Y/n fell apart as her orgasm flooded across her body, causing her legs to shake and her body to fall limp against Aemond. The pleasure of taking Aemond as she pleased pushed Y/n’s high to another plane of existence. One where she was everything and nothing all at once. Unburdened. Unshackled. Untouched. Aemond felt himself burst inside of Y/n his back arching. He had never reached a peak like this before. He could feel tingling all throughout his body that turned into blissful burning reaching to the tips of his toes. They laid together for a moment, their heavy breathing filling the heady air. Y/n sat up a bit and placed a gentle kiss on Aemond’s temple still damp from the excitement.

“Did I do well for you, my lady?”

“You were the perfect gentleman.”

Please reblog and comment

#aemond targaryen x plus sized! reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #plus sized reader #chubby reader #fanfiction requests #request answered #requested #dom reader #submisive aemond #sub aemond targaryen

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bucknastysbabe · 2 years

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Hi my name is Cal. I love HOTD/Bucky/fandom✨

About me: I’m a current psych major, part-time fruit chopper, Gecko mother always. One recovering alcoholic of 2 years, please feel free to reach out if you struggle or are in the same boat!!! White ass bitch from the Southeast US but will pester you with cultural questions.

I love sexy blonde Incest bitches, incel knight, and unstable metal armed man. Writing started as my sober hobby now I’ve been gifted 2% Latina!

ASOIAF/HOTD/GOT (Targaryens n Velaryons🦚, Criston🦚, Robb, Jon, Jaime)

Note: I do NOT write for Daemon or Luke

I write for marvel (Bucky🦚, Zemo, Marc Spector, Matt Murdock, Adam Warlock)

The Last Of Us (Tommy Miller🦚 and Joel Miller)

Seb Stan Characters: (Lee Bodecker🦚, Charles Blackwood, Steve Kemp, Lance Tucker)

Rdr2 (Arthur Morgan & John Marston)

Ask Box‼️: Open (check list)

Short headcanons ❌

Blurbs ❌

Questions ✅

Shitposting ✅

Silly edits ✅

Fic length one-shots ❌

Taglist❣️: Comment here (no it’s not a threat…unless?)

Into: M/F, M/M, fem dom, pegging, sex in any position, bdsm (light), breeding kink, man tears, angst, drunk sex, switching, actually non-smut things, daddy kink

Nope: F/F (I’m really bad at writing it and cursed to be really into dicks), literally just ask me!! Dead dove and niche kinks aren’t really an issue unless it’s like gory or stanky

Tags:

Smut 🍐 || Angst 🟢|| SFW 💚 || Dead dove🔫|| Fluff🐼 || Master ✨

Kink Bingo - Done!

Au Bingo - indefinite hiatus :(

Marvel:

***More of it is on my Ao3 linked in my bio :)

Bucky Barnes

“You’re my mission!”✨

Baron Helmut Zemo

The Call Girl🍐🐼

ASOIAF/HOTD:

Pairings:

No Conviction - Criston Cole x Aegon II🍐🟢🔫

Aegon II Targaryen

"You Do Know How The Act Is Done, Don't You?"✨

Ser Criston Cole

“Do You Want Me To Kill Him?”✨

Related Characters

Masterlist✨

Others:

Tommy Miller (TLOU)

Little Slice o’ Heaven🍐🐼

Dirty Talk🍐🐼

Cockwarming🍐🐼

Lee Bodecker (Devil All The Time)

You can be my daddy🍐🐼

Western AU🍐🐼

Lance Tucker (The Bronze)

God of what? 🍐

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beachbabey · 1 year

Note

BABY I SAW UR WRITING FOR EWANS CHARACTERS NOW!!!! could you do smth with orgasm deprivation for Tom, Aemond and Osferth pls?? 🥺🥺🥺

SLAAYYYY YES YES OFC!!

please note i'm taking this as Dom!Reader

Aemond:

honestly??? the most fun to deprive. he can be one hell of a brat when he wants to be and it’s so amusing to watch him start out completely composed and slowly breaks more and more over time. without fail, he’s always cocky at the start of his punishment. he always thinks it won't be as bad as last time but he always proves himself wrong, and he doesn't admit it, but he's pretty impressed by how you make it a delicious torture for him every single time. three weeks is his longest time without breaking. the first couple of days, he'll act aloof and unaffected, ever his normal stoic, steely self. after the first week, he gets touchier with you, cuddlier and sweeter than he normally is. when it doesn’t work out and you refuse to cave to his affection, he’ll get defiant, running his bratty little mouth and seeing if that helps, desperately trying to get you to cave. when that doesn’t work, he gets desperate. he won’t dare touch himself, partly because whilst he's a brat, he will always obey you, and partly because he’s too proud to, needing to prove to both you and himself that he can do this. but by week three, he’s on his knees, wrapping his arms around your legs, whining and whimpering into your thighs, promising to be a good boy for you.

Osferth:

it's literal hell on earth for him. he's such a good boy, all the time for you, so perfectly behaved that it’s unbelievably rare for him to do something terrible enough to earn any kind of punishment, let alone one as challenging as this. despite having a lack of experience in taking punishments, he's usually pretty good at dealing with them, but it’s so hard for him not to get any relief at all. he'll take any length of time you deem fit with a pained smile, but you can tell how strongly it affects him. one week in and he’s okay, he'll have to take some deep breaths every time you bring him to the edge but you can't see any tells on his face that he's suffering. by the second week, he’s needy, clinging onto you silently. three weeks and he’s jolting and whining each time you touch him. anything longer than a month and he’s literally holding back from begging you every time he sees you. It’s so worth it though, the way you praise him for being such a good boy when you finally let him cum again is such a rush that it makes up for the pure torture of waiting for it.

Tom:

he wants to be able to handle it. he wants to so badly piss you off with his lack of reaction, but he fails so badly. the beginning is fine, of course, he's all condescending smiles and playful, half-hearted glares, and he thinks he can wait out his punishment with no problem. but if it’s more than a week he can't handle it, getting antsy by the end of the second day, thinking with how much you fuck, this punishment would last for 24 hours tops. but he’s not even trying to be a good boy for you, so he's making it worse for himself. he demands you to stop, cursing you out and actively insulting you as he whines and writhes on his back, trying to stop his hips from bucking up, pulling against his restraints (he'd for sure touch himself, rules be dammed, this boy needs surveillance 24/7) he can't take it anymore. but his bratty mouth would end up earning him a month of no cumming and it’s pure torture. two weeks in and his brattiness fades, he’s now begging you with the best puppy eyes he can muster, insisting that he’s learned his lesson. he'll do anything, eating you out for hours, fingering you, sitting you on his lap with your fingers in his mouth, sucking them so harshly and desperately, silently pleading you with those baby blues. but you can't give in, his ego's big enough as it is.

#had to step outside and have a cigarrette whilst writing this OHMYGOD #aemond x reader #osferth x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #tom bennett x reader #osferth smut #aemond smut #tom bennett smut #dom!reader

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safely-in-vhagars-belly · 7 months

Text

Games in the library 18+ MDNI

Aemond x reader (Tutor/gamer au) Fluffish and also smuttish

Tags: smut, library fucking, public sex and nerdy gamer references.

Cool devider credits: saradika

🔷Summary: Your GPA is tanking and you need help. Luckily there is the grumpy antisocial Aemond to help you out.

🔷Author's note: Based on tutor aus but I made my own spin on it.

🔷Wordcount :7324

🔷Warnings: Au universe, smut, desk fucking, p in v, dom/sub, reader x aemond, fluff, gamer references, cozy gamer gf and shoot-em-up bf (found something else? Let me know)

There have been quite a few storms lately, causing more rain and making the world a little gloomy. You don’t mind, however. You have always been a fan of rain. Unlike today, where it’s an extra reminder how much you rather spent inside, cooped up with a good game with a warm cup of hot chocolate, not running around your campus with your bag above your head, as if life depends on it.

You are relieved when you make it inside, in the beautiful library that was built long before you began this study. You notice a silver-haired boy with a missing eye sitting in the corner of the room, with his math books in front of him, impatiently glaring around, unaware you are already there. “Hi!” you enthusiastically say, placing your Starbucks coffee cup and handbag on the table in the big messy library you just entered. It’s a saturday so most students would not want to be found death here at this time.

You have a reason to be here, sadly. You are failing math, falling behind more and more on the subject. So your professor, Borros assigned you a very unwillingly tutor, Aemond Targaryen. He sighed when Borros suggested he should tutor you, even going as far to say that there is no use in tutoring someone who does not want to learn. There is truth in that, but the issue is not that you don’t want to learn. It’s something else.

Aemond glares at your cup before standing up and checking the time on his expensive smartwatch. “Why are you late?” Great. You were afraid of not getting here in time, seems like your Starbucks trip took a little longer than you had planned out.

You take out your phone. You are exactly 5 minutes late. There was a big line in front of Starbucks. And you forget you had tutoring today, to begin with. “I—uhm—forgot the time.” You lie.

He looks at your Starbucks cup accusingly. If it had feelings, the cup would feel attacked, perhaps even insulted, before it would hop off the large wooden table and into a nearby trashcan, ending itself. You would gladly follow it in the rabbit hole trashcan. “I’m sacrificing my free Saturday for you. The least you could do is get here on time.” There is always a bit of a gruff, Gringe-like edge to his voice as if someone just stole his presents and he is pissed.

You huff. He acts so high and mighty, and yet you know there is nothing personal about this. He does not help you because he is some godly angel. He helps you to get points. This is not a charity project for him, or a social project this is cold selfishness and part of his plan to become the best student of your class, likely a step 4 in his 10 plan step to world domination.

You smile sweetly when adjusting your ponytail. “You aren’t sacrificing anything. You get points and the chance to become Borros’s TA.’’ You tell him, dangling his reward in front of him as if it’s a carrot, just in case he thought about bailing.

He dreams of that position for some reason, though you can’t for the love of the gods figure out why. Perhaps for status, power, future learning references or just to get close to Borros? Your teacher had hinted that if he could somehow get you to improve your grades, there might be a chance he would become his teacher's assistant. That was enough to sway Aemond into teaching you.

Aemond briefly pushes his gold-rimmed glasses back on his nose, smirking at you. You feel a little nervous under his gaze. “Correct. That means that I decide how this lesson will proceed.’’

His cryptic description makes your mind wander back to the familiar gutter you have come to know so well. You make a mental note to stop reading dark romance books with tutors for a while.

You ignore him. That makes him eager to get your attention back. “No calls, no texts—for the next hour, you are at my mercy.” Sweet gods.

His soft pink lips briefly smack before breaking into a grin that sends shivers down your spine. You are thankful for the small bolero that covers your dress.

Aemond is a huge nerd. Kinda cute, but he doesn’t know how innuendos work. And he is certainly not aiming his innuendos at you.

“Okay. So, you’re like good at math, right?’’ you ask, a little insecure. You are worried he might not actually teach you anything at all, though he is smart, his hands almost always scorching through the air as though Borros is personally offending him with his questions. He reads advanced math books whenever you and your girlfriends hang out in the library, shooting glares whenever you are too loud, giggling or gossiping.

He seems insulted that you think so lowly of him.”’I’m the best in our class.” You never really kept eye on who is the best of the class, and you do not really ever cared. Who cares, as long as you keep up your GPA it is all fine.

But you are not dumb, you need to keep him as your friend for now. At least your ally. Your accomplice? You don’t know. You think you would be all the way at the bottom. ‘’Impressive.’’ You say, but you can’t bother to meet his eye before taking a sip of your very delicious pumpkin spice late.

His head tilts slightly when he narrows his eyes suspiciously, reading you as a open book. He huffs. “I can tell you don’t give a damn. Take out your notebooks, study books and whatever else you might need. It is time we start.” Whatever else you might need? You feel dread and anxiety fill your chest as you become aware of your thoughts traveling already far away from the lesson.

He brought an adorable little digital clock, that he puts on the table gently, before turning it on, exactly 120 minutes. He really does not want to be here a second longer than he has to be.

You faithfully take out your notebooks decorated with Sanrio stickers, Pokémon stickers and panda stickers, as well as your textbook, and your collection of Hello Kitty gel pens. You put it all out for him to see, flicking the textbook open in front of you.

Aemond stands up, briefly looking over your handwriting in your notebook. He wets his lips before speaking. “Good girl.”

You roll your eyes.

He gets up from the chair across the table, walking to the empty seat next to you. He sits down, glancing at some of your previous sums, together with little drabbles and doodles. “So—what do you have problems with?”

You can feel the warmth of his body and smell the fabric softener he uses on his clothes. He probably does his own laundry.

This will be a long hour. You sigh, before summing it up. “Addition and subtraction, analog time, multiplication and division…’’ And you forget dozens of other things.

Anything and everything that involves numbers. You have been that way since a kid, throwing tantrums whenever you were forced to do math or make a puzzle. Your brain blacks out whenever you are forced to make a sum, and after a while your brain is just completely fried.

He wrinkles his nose, thinking. “So, everything?’’ he summarizes dryly.

You nod. “Yep.”

His good eye slightly widens. “I can do this,” he mutters, to himself more than to you. He taps on an empty page of your notebook with his fingers.

‘’Write down ‘twenty-five plus eighty-seven’.”

You obey, faithfully writing the sum down in your notebook with your favorite Hello Kitty glitter pens.

Aemond looks at the pen with a sigh, bending over your notebook to see what you wrote down. His brows furrow.

You try your best to focus on his voice and his words rather than the fact that he sits so close to you and smells like fresh strawberries.

‘’Alright. Next, write down ‘one hundred and fifty-nine plus ninety-four’.” Again, you write it down as best as you can, in a reasonably readable handwriting. You hear him curse under his breath, exhaling.

“Five hundred and thirty-two plus six hundred and fifty-six..”

You write a bit faster, messing up a few of the numbers in the process. You are glad you are starting with the addition sums, as they come the easiest to you.

“Lastly, three hundred and fifty-five plus four hundred and sixty-six.’’ He looks at your sums. With one glance at his face, you can tell you’ve already fucked it up. “I said ‘one hundred and ninety-five’, but you’ve written down ‘one hundred and fifty-nine’. I said ‘six hundred-and-sixty-five’, but you wrote down ‘six hundred and fifty-six’.”

Great. He must think you are doing it on purpose. Embarrassed, you quickly scratch out the numbers you wrote down before sighing, cursing yourself for thinking this was going to solve anything.

“Are you doing this on purpose?” he wonders. “Do you even want my help?” The nerve of this man.

“What do you think?” you snap, placing the cap back on your Hello Kitty gel pens. “You think you’re my first tutor? You think you’re the first who’s tried to help me? I’ve done all of this before, but none of it matters. Nothing will stick anyway.”

Your voice becomes squeaky. You blink rapidly to avoid ruining your mascara. He must think you are so stupid. You are. So, so stupid.

Aemond looks over your work again, sighing and rubbing his face. “No,” he murmurs quietly. “You turn them around. Some of the numbers.”

That has been an issue since you were introduced to numbers. That and the bigger they get, the bigger the chance you mess it up.

“No shit,” you huff, searching your handbag for your tissues. You find them buried under your perfume bottle and use them to wipe at your eyes.

His feet move under the table, briefly touching yours.

“Don’t get mean. Just making an observation.’’ He scratches behind his ear. “What do you mean, ‘nothing will stick’?”

Great. He will piss himself with laughter when he hears this.

You’d rather not tell him, or anyone, really. It is embarrassing. You are a twenty-two-year-old girl who can’t divide the simplest numbers and, without a digital clock, you’d get nowhere on time. You wouldn’t even know the time. People can and have taken advantage of that just to bully you. “It’s complicated,” you say.

His usual gruff voice softens. “Alright. So, tell me.”

What is the harm? you wonder. Who is he even going to tell?

“I’ve got a non-verbal learning disorder,” you mumble. There. He knows.

“What?” he asks, a little too loud for your liking. Even if he had whispered, it would have been too loud. There is no one here, yet you are worried somehow someone heard.

You growl back, “Non-verbal learning disorder. NLD.”

It is a little less common than dyslexia—a lot less common, actually. You have heard that dyscalculia and NLD is a very common combination. That might be the reason you are so horrible at math. Part of your brain just refuses to understand it, which frustrates you, which makes you upset, and all that means you’d very much rather not do math at all.

Aemond becomes very quiet before admitting something you never thought you’d hear. “I’ve never heard of that.”

Where could he have, though? He is very clearly a math expert, not a learning disorder expert.

You look at your polished pink nails with gold glitter.

“Hm. Not surprised. You are perfect after all, aren’t you?” you ask.

He becomes grumpy and unbearable, as you become mad and perhaps jealous that he is so perfectly fine and normal, and boring. “Fine. Don’t tell me.”

Aemond takes out his phone. You thought they were ‘forbidden’. Didn’t he say so earlier? You glare, insulted. You have a social life, after all, and the world suddenly seems far more beautiful than it had been before you began your suffering here.

“So, are you telling me you don’t know how late it is now?” He shoves a Wikipedia page in your face. He looked it up.

You take out your phone. “Of course I do. It’s fifteen-thirty.”

You don’t say the correct time. You say ‘fifteen-thirty’. Fifteen thirty. Not half over past something, am or pm bullshit. You say it how it is. It’s fifteen-thirty.

Aemond draws a clock in your notebook. You quite like the way he uses your Hello Kitty gel pen for it. “And in analog time, that would be?” He wonders, his voice trailing off when his one remaining good eye glances at you.

You shake your head as he draws two hands on the clock, and multiple numbers. “Oh, no one cares about those lame old clocks,” you smoothly lie, and it is part of the truth.

No one uses those old lame clocks anymore. Everyone and their mother has a cellphone. Why bother reading a clock if you have a cellphone? And in your case—why bother reading a language your brain seems to not understand anyway?

Aemond sighs, reading you easily. He scratches the clock out. “You can’t read them, can you?” He asks after he has scratched them out. You can either deny it or lie about it but why waste energy and time?

This man is too observant.

“I know that the big one up means ‘twelve’,” you say with a little smile, very proud that one thing did decided to stick.

You can see it on his face—it’s becoming more and more clear that you don’t need a tutor. You need a miracle.

He blurts out a question. “How did you even leave high school?” he asks. You don’t think he meant to hurt you, but he still does.

“How did you lose your eye?” you ask, lashing out.

Aemond sits up a little straighter. “That’s quite a personal question—”

You smile back, still furious and hiding your displeasure by ripping your nails. “Exactly.” you groan.

“Fine,” he mutters. “I’m sorry. I’m impressed, if anything.’’

Fake sympathy. Yeah.

This is a waste of time, you didn’t learn years ago, why would you learn it now? Why did you even came here to begin with? A little voice reminds you of just why you came over. “You don’t need to lie to me. I know I’m stupid,” you mutter when playing with your bracelet.

Aemond grabs your wrist, letting go almost the second his skin touches yours. “You’re not stupid. I know you can be very clever and an absolute pain in the ass when you want to be.” He grins. “Just… not with numbers.” He closes your notebook.

“Really?”

You know you are clever on other fronts. It’s just difficult to believe you aren’t stupid when you see how advanced your peers and friends are and you still struggle over middle school math.

He nods. “Yeah. I remember for a while in History and Language that you were a threat to my position as best student.’’

You’d liked History for a while, it’s true. You were good at it—that is, until you got a social life and it became an afterthought. What might have happened if you had stayed on that path?

You don’t understand why he wants to be the best. “I mean, you are already first in math, aren’t you?”

He should not push for perfection as much as he does.

He shrugs. “I don’t care. I have to be the best in everything.” It sounds empty. You might not be the only one with problems.

You try telling him what you think. “That’s a little… unhealthy.”

He snaps at you, suddenly scowling. “Well, I don’t have a rich daddy to pay my way into school.”

Ah. That is his issue with you. He thinks you’re a rich little girl that has a daddy that pays for everything.

You stare at your pink nails, briefly ripping at them before speaking. “I don’t either. Mine died when I was two. I have a stepfather, but he’s too busy fucking my mom and arranging vacations to Dorne for the two of them to bother with me.’’

Aemond’s chest sinks a little, regret written across his face. “I’m sorry.”

He sounds sincere. And, just like that, you realize your math session has turned into a therapy session.

You laugh despite your sadness. “Look at me, trauma-dumping all over you. Sorry.”

You open your notebook at the same moment that Aemond grabs your fingers.

“I think you’ve earned a break.” He awkwardly lets go of you again.

That’s fast. “We haven’t solved a single sum,” you say. “I mean, we can solve one. I think this one is doable…”

You look at your crossed-out sums. Oh, yeah. That happened.

His silver-haired head nods up and down, but he does not answer at first, staring at your nails. “Perhaps not. But we have discovered why you have issues with this. Go take a break. That’s an order.”

He cheekily smirks at you, causing butterflies to flutter in your stomach. Perhaps not butterflies—perhaps just straight-up lust. You want to pull this guy in by his sweater and give him a good tumble.

You lick your lips. ‘’Yeah? What will you do if I don’t, sir?’’

He leans in a little closer, his eye flickering to your ruler lying untouched on the table. “Let’s just say… you wouldn’t like to find out.’’

Aemond takes a bottle of water from his bag and a sandwich while you grab a hot chocolate from the machine in the library and a freshly baked muffin from your bag.

You eat your muffin and then take out your Nintendo Switch bag, starting the device up for a brief moment of relaxation. You play Animal Crossing for a few minutes, forgetting the world around you as you’re sucked into your peaceful little island.

Aemond is very silent as well, staring mostly at you.

“I’ve got one too.” You are sucked out of your island and back into reality.

‘’Huh?’’ He nods to the switch.

He means a Switch. You didn’t think he would be into games. You think he would be too busy studying, really.

“What game are you playing?” he asks, tilting his head, coming a little closer so he can see for himself, almost touching your skin in the process as he clumsily bumps into you. ‘’Sorry.’’ He murmurs.

“A very intense one,” you comment as a compilation happens on your screen. You want to restore your island from desertcore to cottagecore and right now, one of your villagers has decided to be a menace.

On Aemond’s lips grows an almost dreamy smile as he stares at you playing on your Switch. “Oh—like Xenoblades? Zelda? Hades?”

You’ve heard of all three, but haven’t played them. They are not games you think you would like. They sound difficult, full of combat, full of puzzles and full of realisation that you are stupid. So you stay far, far away from them.

“Animal Crossing!” You turn your Switch so he can see your former desert island as you turn it back into a cute aesthetic-worthy village.

He tries to blink, but he only has one eye so it looks a little awkward. “That is your definition of ‘intense’?”

It can be. It can be so intense you rage-quit. Some of these animals have no manners—you’ve certainly bullied a fair few off your island.

“You try terraforming your island when a lazy villager sits in the way!” You point with your finger to the panda cub that sits in the way, right where you want to plant a bush. “That’s Chester, and right now he’s making my life hell—”

The panda, or Chester, enjoys a sandwich while smiling at your avatar, unaware of the misery he is

causing.

“That panda is?” Aemond asks, confused. “The panda is the issue? Can’t you tell him to move?”

That would be so helpful. But, unfortunately, no—that is not an option.

You nod, turning your Switch back to you. “He just won’t leave. I can hit him with a net, but he would hate me,” you mutter. “Pushing him is useless. He’s, like, glued to this spot.”

Aemond smiles to himself. “Perhaps he is saying we should return to studying.” Chester would say that, the menace. He has not given you his photo either, the bear knows too much.

“He says to me that I can have five more minutes,” you say, smiling and blinking your eyes innocently.

He sighs deeply, exhaling before putting his arm under his head, watching you terraform around your island. “Cute.” He sits up straight, blushing and quickly pointing to your Switch, decorated with stickers from Stardew Valley. “I meant, uh, the stickers.” He quickly mutters, and you can’t hide your own smile.

The stickers are cute, but you can’t help but wonder if he wasn’t talking about something else. “Thanks, they’re from Stardew Valley.”

“I heard that game—” Whatever Aemond would say next would forever be a mystery. He is rudely interrupted by your fan dumping all over him, telling him the plot, the main features, and your personal opinion of the game in the world-wide record of 4 minutes as you ramble. “You’re kinda supposed to help this town flourish by bringing crops you grow, artisan stuff, to this community center. You can also romance and have children and have a pet. There is like magic too, but I wish it was more fleshed out-’’ You shut up quickly. You put your switch down.

He nods, but you can tell you are losing his interest.

“You can slay monsters, too,” you blurt out. “And you have different swords, weapons and stuff. Sorry. I kinda ramble.”

“I like it. It’s cute when you ramble.’’ Damn it. You feel your cheeks redden. Aemond watches the rain outside, before asking another question about Stardew Valley. ‘’Can I kill my spouse?” he asks as a follow up.

You know the modding community is very active, but they are like about dogs and cat breeds, about teleportation hacks and making portraits better. Not about you know, full-blown murder. “No…”

He frowns as if that surprises him. “Is there warfare? Can I take other people’s farms? Is there a princess for me to save?” No, no, and no.

You understand you two play different games.

“No, not really. It does have multiplayer, though.”

Aemond’s scoffing little smirk returns but it does not meet his hurt and very glossy eye. “I’m kinda a loner.” He laughs but there is a hidden sadness there. A sadness you relate too all too well.

“I am, too,” you say.

“You have dozens of friends.” You can still have friends and be alone.

He refers to the girls that you hang out with. Are they friends? You don’t hang out aside from the weekend. You can’t call them, if something has happened to you, and they definitely don’t know you game or have NLD.

“Yes,” you say, “but…none of them game, I guess? Like, in that way, I’m alone. And I don’t make friends easily. Not everyone likes the games I play. Some wouldn’t even call it gaming. So, what kind of games do you like to play?”

He suddenly becomes interested in his very well cared for nails, and you know you hit a weak spot.

“Crusader Kings II, Zelda, Hades, Xenoblades and shooters.” He tells you. ‘’Mostly single-players.’’

You don’t know Crusader kings, but judging by the name, you do not have a cute farm at day and a run a witchy cozy coven at night. “The bloody ones.”

He snaps his head to you, smirking a bit.

‘’Zelda is not bloody.’’ Before he looks at your hair and your lipstick. ‘’I think you actually like it, if you gave it a chance.’’ He says. ‘’I mean, there is dozens of npcs to talk to, a wonderful open world, and ingredients to forage and outfits to collect and to find. In a way, it is Stardew Valley but without the Valley.’’

He definitely heard about Stardew Valley before. ‘’You know a lot about Stardew.’’

He nods. ‘’My sister, Helaena, she plays it a lot. I wouldn’t know how to play it, however.’’ He confesses, slightly tilting his hands. ‘’It’s beyond me how you get anything done with a time limit and a stamina bar.’’

You smile, and you never thought you would in his company. ‘’Describe the story. Of that Zelda game.’’

He needs some time to think before telling you the main story. ‘’You see, with an adventure game that’s…that would defeat the purpose of playing. So: You are a hero, named Link. After 100 years, you awake in a shrine, and you hear a voice, and you need to save the kingdom and the princess.’’ It sounds very …male-written and male-aimed. You aren’t sure Zelda is for you.

You have another problem with it too.

‘’That sounds horrible. Imagine waking up from your nap, and suddenly you got to save the world.’’

At first he is confused but the moment he knows you are joking, he laughs, a very delightful sweet and welcoming sound. ‘’It starts very locked, but there’s so much you can do in the game, in my honest opinion it's one of their best entries in the series. There’s cooking, horses-’’ Horses? There are horses? And cooking? ‘’There is combat, but you learn quickly, at least I did. The monsters are actually clever, and in the beginning, its best to avoid them until you get decent weapons.’’ You aren’t sure. Combat? The monsters in the skull cave of Stardew Valley regularly kick your ass. ‘’There are puzzles too-’’ That is where you draw the line. No puzzles.

‘’Hell no. I hate puzzles.’’ You did as a kid, and still as an adult you can’t figure out how some people enjoy putting together these images, made up of 1,000 pieces and when they finish it, they destroy it too. Like what is the point? And it does not help you can never figure out where to start.

‘’I know.’’ That catches you off guard. Aemond does not pressure you into it. He simply accepts it. ‘’But they are fun. We can solve most problems in multiple ways. You can’t fuck this up, if you are scared of that. Even if you die, you can restart as many times as you like. And no one is going to call you stupid for it.’’ He promises you, when leaning in a little closer, touching your face gently.

‘’Not even you?’’ You ask, for confirmation, not sure why you care but you hate for him to laugh at you for doing something very rookie.

He shakes his head. ‘’No. It took me a lot of time to get the hang of it too, if you must know.’’ So he is not as perfect as he pretends to be. ‘’I already told you: I don’t think you are stupid.’’

You lean in a little closer to him, staring at his soft pink lips. You make your voice as dry as possible. ‘’What if I call ‘’Link’’ ‘’Zelda?’’ You ask him with a cheeky grin. Nothing annoys Zelda fans more than that.

He grins back, but has faith in you. ‘’I know you won’t.’’ That is true. You know that the Princess is called ‘’Zelda’’ but the person you play as is called ‘’Link.’’ To confuse the two would be like calling JojaMart Pierre’s general store.

‘’But what if I do?’’ You ask, getting a little cheeky. ‘’Hm? Sir?’’ You ask, pushing his buttons a little more as you grin.

He needs to make an effort to hide his smirk, quietly muttering when eyeing the stickers on your switch. ‘’Don’t push me, we are alone after all, and I’m very bored.’’ He murmurs, sending a shiver down your spine when his voice gets that rough edgy little dark edge.

‘’Are you …Interested?’’ You ask, surprised.

He lifts his head, a bit insulted. ‘’You think I would not avoid you like the plague if I wasn’t?’’

All this time you thought he hated you, but he had a crush on you. ‘’I thought you hated me! That I annoyed you!’

He blushes, quickly cleaning his glasses for some reason. ‘’No, I just don’t like it when I can’t control my feelings. Like I become very different around you.’’ You noticed. He puts walls around himself.

‘’You become a little angry bird or a Goomba.’’ You know for sure he knows what a Goomba is, and you know it as well. They are the adorable little creatures from Mario games that try to murder Mario and look grumpy.

He chuckles, mortified by your description.

‘’Please, no, gods, not a Goomba.’’

You do find the courage to tell him your final thoughts, before flipping your notebook again, picking up where you left with the sums. ‘’If it helps, you are kinda cute too, Aemond.’’ You tell him, and you mean it. ‘’Not that I’m into Goombas, but..Yeah. You’re cute.’’ You tell him.

He nods, absently before he becomes serious again. ‘’Did you ever try motivational tutor lessons?’’ Motivational what?

‘’What uhm do you mean?’’ You ask, a little lost.

He shrugs, smiling. ‘’Well, people are more likely to succeed if there is a reward for them in it.’’ You notice him biting down at his lips, avoiding your eyes.

‘’And uhm, what would my reward be?’’ You ask your body to betray you within mere seconds as you think of how he will reward you. You, on the couch on top of him when fucking him-

He grins, when slowly touching your legs, going to the space between your legs, to where your dress ends. ‘’Whatever you like,’’ he purrs softly in your ear. ‘’ A cup of coffee, a donut…’’

You nod, a little disappointed and curse your dirty mind. That man is a saint for trying with you. Aemond reaches out to grab something close to your textbook and your eyes follow his fingers. ‘’People are likely to succeed more if they are disciplined too.’’ He is just teasing you, you tell your very dirty minded mind.

You know he will make you stand in the corner or perhaps take your phone away. ‘’And what would my punishment be?’’ You ask, dryly when you copy the sums from the textbook.

Aemond sighs. ‘’I won’t do anything you don’t consent to, that is the first lesson.’’ You were taking a sip of your cold coffee and nearly spat it out, all over your textbook as your cheeks burned with interest.

‘’But if you are into a little motivation, I guess I can show you another use for this pretty ruler.’’ He mutters, tapping with the ruler against the palm of his hand. You notice he has excellent self-control. This will be fun.

Yet you are surprised, that the red sweater glass-wearing sniveling little best of the class into BDSM. ‘’You’re into Kink?’’ You ask, your voice is a bit strangled.

‘’That’s not an answer, little brat.’’

He totally is. Gods, just your luck, stuck with Aemond Targaryen who is secretly into brat taming. Whatever sums you wanted to make, will certainly get fucked up now.

‘’Do you expect me to really learn better?’’ You hope he understands that your brain is just not a regular brain. It won’t magically solve things now that you are motivated.

Aemond shakes his head. ‘’I kinda don’t. But it’s alright, love. I won’t get upset with you. Not really, at least.’’ He tells you with a grin. ‘’But I won’t lay a finger on you until I get your consent.’’ Such a gentleman.

‘’Fine, you’re free to touch me.’’

On his lips, grows a dangerous smirk as he grins, before sitting next to you. ‘’What is the square root of 48?’’ He puts his left hand on your knee and slowly makes his way to your thigh…

Fuck. ‘’Uhm, 4.’’ You blurt out. It is a gamble but you don’t care.

Aemond chuckles before tsking as a disapproving teacher, before grinning and telling you the correct answer. ‘’That would be 6.’’ You growl, a little angry you didn’t know it. But he softly murmurs in your ear, when his hands go over your body. ‘’Take off your coat.’’ He tells you coldy.

You let out a little squeak. He grins, adding softly. ‘’Again, if you want to, of course.’’

‘’I want you to strip too.’’ You tell him after you have taken your coat off.

He chuckles, thinking you can’t defeat him. That you don’t know his weakness. But he told you, earlier today without him realizing so. ‘’You can ask me questions but I know a lot more about math-’’

You interrupt him, smiling.

‘’What year did the Titanic sink?’’

Aemond gawks at you, before thinking deeply. It is a random event that did kill people, but it had no major consequences. ‘’1910?’’ He guesses. You grin.

‘’1912, take off your shoes.’’ You tell him.

‘’Fuck.’’ he murmurs, but obeys. ‘’If I go with the train at 9:20, and the train takes half an hour-'’ No way you will get that one, so you take your dress off, zipping your zipper down and exposing your black bra and matching knickers. Aemond’s breath catches slightly, exhaling when his pupils enlarge.‘’Good girl.’’ That is enough to worsen your arousal and to harden your nippels. Aemond watches as it happens, a pleased contemptuous smile on his lips.

‘’Tell me, little Brat. Darwin’s father has four children, Red, orange, yellow and-’’ It is a pattern question. A clear question. Red orange yellow are colors represented in the rainbow. ‘’Green?’’ The moment you said it, you repeat the question silently before growling.

‘’No! "It's Darwin!” You grow out.

He chuckles. ‘’You can keep your pretty knickers and bra on. I want you to sit on my lap.’’ You sit down on his lap, making sure to rub him a tiny bit in the process, to make him wild. He groans in your ear when forcing your ass down. ‘’Such a naughty little brat. And so wet for me too.’’ He murmurs in your ear when his fingers smoothly slide in your knickers, before toying with your folds, touching before inspecting your wetness. You twist on his lap, trying to force the finger to move deeper, harder, and rougher. Aemond pulls you tightly to his chest to avoid you moving at all.

You enjoy his control more than you should. ‘’Fuck…’’ You quietly mutter. He muses happily to himself as you squirm and twist on his lap.

‘’So tense, are we shy, little brat?’’ He is toying with you, torturing you.

‘’Aemond, please.’’ You beg, helplessly as he begins to fuck your body with his fingers, and you happily fuck his hands, clenching yourself whenever you are allowed.

You need to find release soon, and he knows it very well judging by his smirk. ‘’I’m afraid I won't listen to that name. You will call me Sir or you will refrain from speaking at all.’’ He says, and your fucked up little brain enjoys it too much.

That is so hot. He has an authority kink. ‘’Fuck!’’

He grins, as he takes a stance behind you.

‘’I’m afraid I can’t allow such crass words.’’

Oh shit. You feel your heart race and your stomach flutter with lust and butterflies and your curious mind wanders. ‘’Aemond…’’ He grabs you briefly by the throat, but he does not make it hurtful. He raises a brow.

You look at your shoes.

‘’I meant, Sir…’’ Your face is pressed down against the wood of the table, before Aemond growls.

‘’Nothing will save you now, little brat. You are all mine.’’

He grabs the ruler and your cheeks are spanked first with his fingers before he moves on to the iron ruler, hitting your cheeks with precision but hard enough for you to like it. You squirm on the desk, certain you leave a trail of wetness as Aemond uses the ruler on both your ass cheeks, finding a torturous rhythm. And yet you like it. You want it to happen again, you want to brat. ‘’Fuck,’’ you cry out as three of his fingers enter your pussy. His left hand is feeling you up, when his right continues to punish you for your sins. ‘’Sir, sir please!’ You moan.

‘’Are you sorry?’’ He asks, between fucking you on the desk with his hand and spanking you. You nod, furiously. He sighs, letting go of you and his fingers leave your spent wet cunt. ‘’Good. Don’t be naughty again or I will punish you again.’’ He warns you. You want to brat. And you want to brat so hard that he will punish you with his cock this time.

You bring your own fingers to your entrance but before that you can shove them in, Aemond has grabbed your wrist, painfully twisting it. ‘’Seems like someone can’t behave herself.’’ You nod, furiously as if you regret it deeply. Aemond sighs. ‘’Pull my pants down for me.’’ He tells you, and you inwardly cheer. You get to work, unbuttoning his jeans for him and pulling them down first, before staring at his boxers which barely hide his erected cock.

You pull his boxers down too, freeing his cock as the red swollen tip is pushed in your face, with clear precum on the edge. ‘’Get on the desk.’’ He tells you. ‘’Bent over it, the way I know you want to.’’ You know what he means very well, and you obey, bending over the desk so he could take you on it.

He sighs before grabbing one of your hands and wrapping your fingers around his cock. ‘’Make me go wild, and I’ll fuck your little needy pussy.’’ You obey, your back turned to him as you try to please him with your fingers rubbing his head and his balls.

You are bended, and Aemond opens your legs roughly and sharply, before going inside of you with his cock, filling you all the way with his length as you silently whisper. Aemond starts to trust and you become lightheaded and carried away on your pleasure. He fits so well. ‘’Sir,’’ you weakly mutter as he fucks you on the table, your book and hello kitty gel pens still present. Aemond grunts as an animal before grabbing the ruler, smacking your cunt this time, causing you to cry out in pleasure. ‘’Sir!’’ You repeat your own cry, before slamming your hips against his own, begging him to finish you. ‘’Please!’’

‘’Such a needy cunny. I’m going to come inside of you, little Princess. You are going to tell all your little whore friends about this, that you got fucked by a man in the library, used as a glorified slave. You will tell them how red and throbbing your little pussy was, and you will not tell anyone it was me. Is that understood, or do you need me to fucking explain it another way?’’ You understand, but you would love another explanation because it sounds so dirty.

‘’Another way. I’m pretty stupid.’’

He glares as if he disagrees with that.

‘’Very well.’’

Aemond grabs you by your hips again, fucking you.

‘’’N-no, Aemond, I have a party tonight-’’ You tell him, begging him to be a bit gentle.

He groans. ‘’I don’t care. Fuck your parties.’’

He did not get invited.

‘’Nhn!’’ You cry out as his cock cruelly fucks you, not giving a damn about your warnings.

Aemond’s lips briefly kiss your sweaty forehead.

‘’Delicious, such a good cunny.’’ He murmurs, rubbing your cunt until blood sticks to his fingers. You need a little push. Just one tiny push. ‘’And now, you will come for me, my slut. When I tell you, you will come all over my cock, soaking me.’’ You nod, bracing yourself.

Aemond fucks you harder and faster and it becomes difficult to hold your orgasm in. You need to release it, you need to find a release fast. ‘’Sir, please.’’ You beg, helpless. He grins, spanking your needy pussy.

‘’I know, but try to show some self-respect, my little brat.’’

You wordlessly wail. He sighs, before impaling you thoroughly and resting his hands on your hips. He whispers in your ear. ‘’Come.’’ You obey, freed from a prisoner and let go when you two fuck each other roughly, your muscles hurting from the rough fucking on the desk. And finally, you come all over his cock, just as he promised you would. He takes you two more times after that, bringing you close to two other orgasms, before denying those two. You are taken without warning and lose your control, coming all over him, earning you a spanking and a rough fucking before he comes inside of you as well, with a lot of curse words and grunts.

‘’Fuck, Y/N.’’ He murmurs, in your ear. You put your underwear and bra back on. The timer ends, revealing that two whole hours have passed. Aemond dresses himself quickly too, looking at your messy hair and glassy eyes.

You become aware of the feelings and the urge to run far away from them. ‘’I have to go.’’ You tell him.

Aemond stops you, gently and you know he has become himself again, dropping the dom-act.

‘’No. You seem to know some things about Kink, but after playing with my ladies, I give them aftercare. You deserve a bagel, or a donut, or fuck it, another Starbucks if you want. If we were at my place, I’d prepare a bath for you or give you a message.’’ He rambles on. ‘’Let me buy you something nice for your lunch, and at least walk you home.’’ He asks, no, begs. Your face melts at his sweet manners.

You put your stuff in your back, as Aemond zips up your dress for you, careful to avoid your hairs. He has done this before. You wonder how many times and with who. ‘’She is judging us.’’ He suddenly whispers, nodding to your hello kitty gel pen.

After two hours he has become just as mad as you have. ‘’She knows too much, I might drown her into my Starbucks later.’’ You tell him.

He does not approve of that idea.

‘’That would be sad and torture.’’

‘’Fine, I’ll just…put her in my pencil case.’’ You do as you promise him, putting the gel pens in your pencil case.

‘’That’s it, good girl.’’

He winks before following you to Starbucks.

‘’Hey, uhm Aemond?”’ You ask after you are waiting for your order. Aemond looks around a little amazed. He has never been here before, calling it a capitalistic hell.

‘’Yeah?’’ his hands nervously play with his rings. He can be so adorably shy.

‘’What are you doing tonight?’’ You wonder, hoping you don’t regret this. As in, he does not say no.

‘’Not much, I might actually play Zelda. Why?’’ He wonders.

‘’Want to come to this party with me?’’ You blurt out with a smile.

a/nthank you for reading let me know what you think. there might be a part 2 but i havent decided yet.

The eh creatures above the a/n are goombas.

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lady-phasma · 1 year

Text

Dom!Aemond x fem!reader

18+ NSFW Strong Dom/sub content. Unadulterated smut.

He really just makes me write whatever he wants. I really can’t believe what I am writing. jfc Aemond.

Aemond held your neck as he pressed you against the bed. The backs of your legs rested against the mattress. You smiled defiantly up at him. His violet eye narrowed. His sapphire glinted as he turned his head slightly. You felt his fingers relax and tense. You felt it all the way from your throat to your cunt. You tried desperately to stop your hips from moving toward him.

“You know what happens if you misbehave on purpose, yes?” His lips were a straight line, serious. You tried to nod.

“Tsk.” He shook his head once.

“Yes, Ser,” you tried to swallow. He let his fingers relax. He smoothed his fingertips down your neck as your throat worked.

“Then you know what to do.”

You cast your eyes down and fought a smile. You really did enjoy getting your way. He knew but loved you enough to let you have these little wins from time to time. You bit your bottom lip and looked up at him as you begin to kneel. His lips parted slightly.

You rested your hands on your thighs and waited. He took a step closer to you. His hands began to work on the laces of his pants. Your mouth watered and your heart thudded in your chest. He was so hard. You wanted to touch him so badly. But this would be better, it almost always was. You both knew it almost by heart, slight variations but each doing exactly what the other one wanted by instinct.

You looked up to his face, your eyes flitting from his mouth to his sapphire eye, then resting your gaze on his violet eye. You opened your mouth and held out your tongue. He clenched his jaw at the picture you presented. One hand on his dick, he slid the palm of his other over your tongue. He stroked his dick with his spit-slicked hand. You closed your mouth and swallowed, the taste of his hand bitter and salty on your tongue. You tried to control your expression but it was difficult when he made those sounds.

Aemond groaned as he stroked himself. His gaze made your nipples hard. You could only imagine how lovely you looked waiting for him. He placed his other hand on the top of your head and you nuzzled into his palm. He wound his fingers into your hair and tilted your face up further. You looked down from his face. You moaned as you watched his hand slide over his dick, swiping the precum from the tip. He increased his rhythm. You squirmed pressing your thighs together. He noticed and tightened his fingers in your hair slightly, a warning.

You looked back up at his face. The sounds of his hand and his groans made you dripping wet. You arched your back and pushed against his hand. He closed his eye. His strokes became faster and shorter.

“Oh please, Aemond, please,” you begged.

His hand in your hair stilled your head for him. He groaned your name behind clenched teeth as he came. He opened his eye to watch his cum fall across your face. You held your mouth open the way he liked. You enjoyed seeing him lose control because of you. You loved the way he looked when he came, how he looked at you as if you were the only thing in the world in that moment. You licked your lips, swallowed what had fallen on in your mouth, and smiled up at him.

Aemond released your hair. After lacing up his pants he held out his hand to you. You took it and stood up. He walked across the room and returned with a cloth. Slowly, delicately, he cleaned your face. You closed your eyes. His hand was gentle and kind. He held the back of your head tenderly with his other hand. The cloth drug across your bottom lip pulling your mouth open. He moaned, pulled you to him, and kissed you hungrily.

#I wasn’t sure I was going to post this but who cares?#house of the dragon #aemond smut #Dom!Aemond #hotd #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #prince aemond targaryen #aemond the kinslayer #hotd fic #aemond x reader #aemond x fem!reader #hotd smut #house of the dragon fic #aemond imagine #aemond drabbles #aemond drabble

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imthefemalemonster · 1 year

Text

⸻Our time

Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader (smut)

⸻ Summary: A lovely morning routine alongside Prince Aemond Targaryen.

Tags: Shameless Smut, PWP, Dom!Aemond, Female reader, Masturbation, Degradation/Humiliation Kink, (if you blink faster than light), Orgasm, Aftercare, No beta I need sleep

⸻Read on Ao3

Notes: I have writer guilt so I gaslighted myself into writing. 1K2 unhinged smut I do not know what this is but I missed Dom!Aemond, hope you enjoy it. ♡

(just a little bit of soft at the end, as a treat)

Tumblr for ideas/requests: @imthefemalemonster

Smut & fluff prompts: here & here

⸻Words: 1212

Aemond woke up early again, the sun was still shyly showing in the sky, the air was cold against his naked skin, only having a few sheets and the sleeping body at his side to heat him up. Despite the very long night punctuated by several sexual intercourses, moans and orgasms, he still couldn’t sleep longer than a few hours. The reason for his early awakening was pretty clear, a very visible morning hard-on. He sighed heavily, turning to lay on his side, it happened often and the motions were now almost mindless. He knew how to satiate himself and the delightful body of his wife resting at his side would be just enough. You wouldn’t refuse him anything, and especially not a morning jerk-off like he loved.

However, Aemond felt vile today. Most of the time you would be awake at the same time or he would wake you up to satisfy himself. But today felt a bit different, your sleeping and innocent figure resting at his side had a hundred of improper thoughts running inside his mind. But he wouldn’t quite give you what you always loved, today was all about him.

Nonchalantly, your back still turned against him, he raised your leg, moving closer. The contact had him smirk, low gasp leaving his lips, finger digging in your soft skin as his erection rubbed against your back, the friction delicious. Cunt exposed to his hunger, a vile smile on his lips, he grabbed the base of his hardened shaft, rubbing it slowly against your folds. He was surprised at the contact, a rest of sweat and cum from last night being his only lube as he moved up and down your lips, slightly brushing your clit but making sure not to put pressure on it. His other hand moved under your body, groping your breast, thumbs circling the skin, pinching. He wanted his pleasure, not yours, not yet.

You shifted slightly, breaths getting louder as you emerged from deep slumber. You felt hot, your skin stinging, hot like it had been thrown boiling water on.

“Look what you do to me.”, he mewled in your ear, feeling you wake up and move against him, biting your earlobe with much strength, his cock rubbed painfully inside your lips, pushing but not going inside.

Still half asleep, half awake, you slowly started to understand what was happening. It was often that the day would start with Aemond buried so deep inside you it was hard to walk for the rest of the day. You would either be on your knees for him to take you from behind or to take him in your mouth, both as deep as you could because nothing was more exciting than the malicious smile on his lips as he sunk down into you. But this was quite new.

“Aemon-”

You felt his right hand tense against your breast, pressing so hard it sent jolts in your whole body.

“Shut up.”, he rasped against your neck, teeth nibbling at the skin, more like a warning than a tease, “Bite your fucking lips until it bled but don’t you dare make a noise.”

You obeyed, aroused by his guttural voice against your sensitive skin. You could feel his broad presence behind you, like a threat. A single movement, a single word and you could be in trouble. Aemond wasn’t the kind to be gentle when you weren’t obeying, and it was not the ‘not gentle in a sexual’ way but the ‘I won’t give you release and touch you ever again’ kind of way. So you obeyed, always, because it was always more pleasurable to be held in his arms, like something he possessed, and see his little satisfied smile when he got off on your submission.

“Show me how much you need me, pretty girl.”

You knew the rules, don’t talk, move to communicate. You felt his cock, steady against your burning core, hips rolled to meet his body as he hummed pleasingly. Fingers pressed against your breast, playing with the sensitive buds, you dug your teeth so hard in your lips to try and muffle your moans.

“Do you think you deserve this?”, he husked, biting your neck, teeth sinking into the skin. There would be bruises and he would fix them all day until finally people saw them. Your face would be flushed, legs squeezing, core twitching as he would murmur the most insane things in your ear in public about what he was about to do to you later.

“Touch yourself there. Right there.”, he breathed, air setting your skin on fire, as he rubbed the top of his length against your clip, pleas entrapped in your throat. Your digits moved lower on your body, between your parted legs as they met with his shaft. He groaned at the friction, pushing further against your fingers but still not in, hips thrusting his crotch meeting your ass in obscene motions.

You rubbed your clit in haste, breaths erratic but still silent as he asked. Your digits rubbing against the top of his leaking cock, legs intertwined and hips pounding now. You could feel his hand harshly moving up and down his member, jerking himself off against your drenched cunt. His movements irregular as his breaths against the back of your neck, lips and tongue traveling up and and down your skin, your body squirming, overwhelmed from face to toes. Your chest moved in his palm, nipple brushing inside his rough skin. His length was buried in your wetness, jerked-off by your fingers, his own hand and the lips around it.

Everything felt delicious, overwhelming, panting in your ear, whispering the sweetest insanity that sent you over the edge, biting back moans as best as you could as Aemond hips were still crashing into yours, cock rubbing and head hitting your clit in a blissful assault. Your body jerked, dissolving into pleasure as fire burned in your lower belly, like you were going to melt into Aemond’s embrace.

“Good girl, good girl!”, he laughed, cock slapping between your thighs, hitting your clit as you screamed his name, “Getting off her husband masturbating is she?”

Your teeth leaving your lips, they curled in a pleased smile. Vision fading to black your continued to meet his thrusts, hearing him ground as he chased his own pleasure, hand, cock and hips hitting your cunt with obscene and wet noises. You could feel every veins, every hit, every time his head pulsed against your clit as he came. Spilling on your cunt, your fingers, your thighs, the sheets.

Erratic breaths filled the room as you both panted, mixed with discreet laugh and tender smiles. You could feel his smirk against your skin, softly kissing your neck and shoulder. You moved slightly to rest on your side, still soiled in sweat and seed. His arm around you, you rested your head under his, cheek on his shoulders. His single eye staring down at you gently, like he waited for approval.

“Do that again next time.”, you whispered, hands on his chest, caressing the skin kindly as your fingers met his, digits intertwined in a loving embrace.

“Should I wake you up, love?”

“No”, you smiled against his cheek, “I like surprises.”

#aemond targaryen x reader #fics #smut #**mine #This is not the thing I said I was working on #I daydreamt about Dom!Aemond and had to write it

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anjelicawrites · 1 year

Note

Can we get a headcanon list for Osferth, like the one you did for Aemond and his subbiness yesterday?

Anon you asked for dom!Osferth in your other message and dom!Osferth headcanons under the cut you shall receive. Abuse mentions. Some NSFW, 18+ only (it goes without saying ffs) under the cut.

All the headcanons work with all the Osferths in my head, poly!Osferth included

Osferth didn't start outright as a dom. He discovered sex and went at it with an enthusiastic "Yay!!!" and proceeded to try everything he could.

The discovery of the BDSM world came later, accompanied by a way of naming what he, sometimes, likes to do to his partners, with their consent.

Osferth is a switch who leans to a more dom side, he has tried on himself all of the things he subjects his willing partners to.

He is a conscientious dom, who has lengthy discussions with his sub about preferences and limits, until he feels safe enough to handle his partner. If he is not in a monogamous relationship, he is great at remembering what his partners prefer. After knowing the extent of the abuse poly!reader had been subjected to by her ex, poly!Osferth went even slower with her, while helping easing her back into BDSM in the bedroom.

Osferth has the gift of reading his partner’s needs; this come handy with subs who are too stubborn for their own good (poly!Aemond and poly!reader I am talking about you!) or go non verbal and he just knows when to stop.

His sub’s safeword is sacred to him. His partner rarely has to use it, because he is that good at body language. In the rare cases where his sub uses it, Osferth stops immediately and all his energies focus on bringing his partner back to safety. He’d never be mad with his lover for using the safeword, he’d be mad at himself for not realizing they needed to stop.

He loves tying up his partners, depriving them of their sight and hearing, having them at his mercy. He is big on impact play as well and gets a sadistic kick at listing all the things he is going to subject his partner to, while their are in his clutches, trembling with fear and need. He loves overstimulation and edging, to bring his partner to the point where they are too far gone and don’t know what they want from him, crying and begging, too lost to focus. Role play is fun as well, he loves when they pretend to run away from him and put up a fight, it’s all too amusing to have them bend to his whims, as if they could really escape him. He loves when you are bratty and he needs to teach you a lesson. Lengthy punishments make his day, for example denying his sub orgasms for weeks; he can be such a bastard, using them for his pleasure but not allowing them to come, until he deems they have learn what he had to teach them. Call his partners names? Yes, please.

He can be a soft dom, if his partner needs him to be. Poly!Osferth doms poly!Aemond when he asks, he uses all his lover’s preferences against him, no whips and chains needed; who do you think, has had the idea to fuck Aemond using an ice dildo? Who will try to check whether or not Aemond can come by nipple play only and how long he can be overstimulated this way?

Osferth is king of aftercare. He washes and cuddles his partner, rubs their skin with soothing lotions and is there for them, wraps his partner in their favorite blanket or sweater, until they re emerge from subspace with a dopey smile on their face. He is proud that he has honored their submission and trust, that he has led them through the journey of their scene together. He knows that every time his partner submits to him, is a gift he should protect and cherish with his life.

He doesn’t take kindly to those fake doms who say that safewords and aftercare are myths.

If asked why he likes to dom his partner hard, he can’t explain why. Poly!Osferth has had lengthy discussions with poly!Aemond about this subject, sadly he can’t give his lover a cohesive answer. God has made him this way and he's been lucky enough to have someone by his side who accepts him the way he is. Why has God shaped him so? He honestly doesn’t know and doesn’t really believe there’s a reason at this point. As long as reader is happy, he’ll be the dom she wants him to be.

Dom!Osferth gets painful dom drops episodes after very hard scenes and needs to hold his partner tight embrace, safe in the knowledge that they are fine and that they have loved every second of what he has done to them. Poly!Osferth doesn’t get dom drops, but he becomes soft and needy and yearns for all the cuddles his partners can give him, obviously after long aftercare!

Osferth is the best at DIY. It comes handy when he has to hide hooks and whatnot about the house (poly!Osferth I am talking about you as well), so he can dom his partner wherever he wishes.

Osferth has loads of toys and he loves switching using them, keeping his partner on their toes even though he has a preference for paddles, the sturdier the better. Poly!Osferth always smiles and becomes giddy when poly!reader gifts him stuff he can use on her.

Yes, he loves toys, sometimes though, there’s nothing better than a good round of spanking, otherwise why would have God gifted him with such big, strong hands?

Osferth his fiercely protective of his partner. No one hurts them on his watch. He might not be the richest or powerful man in town, but he’ll make sure to keep his lover safe. After poly!Osferth learnt of poly!reader's abusive ex, who fashioned himself a dom just to abuse her, he had to go to the gym and release his pen up anger on the poor punching bag, since reader forbade him to do so on her ex. His hands were unusable for days, covered in cuts, the pain the only thing helping him work through his anger. Every single time poly!Aemond comes home done with his family, poly!Osferth knows one day he’ll snap and make sure Daemon has a very nasty day. He knows his lovers are strong and can take care of themselves, it's just that he feels protective of them and, as long as he lives, they don’t need to fight alone.

Does he get a bit of a kick in the knowledge that he looks like the kind of guy you’d bring home to your parents, who are blissfully unaware of all the nasty things you ask him to do to you? Absolutely, your honor.

Domming is partner in the bedroom isn’t his standard, it always depends on what his partner wants and what kind of mood strikes their fancy. One thing is certain, once dom!Osferth enters the chat, you are in for a ride.

#answered #dom!Osferth #dom!Osferth x reader #dom!Osferth x y/n #aemond targaryen x reader x osferth #aemond targaryen x y/n x osferth #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen #osferth x reader #osferth x y/n #osferth #polyquestion

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deepgreensunlight · 2 years

Text

modern!aemond who tries to embarass you by calling you sugartits in public

modern!aemond who promptly stumbles, stuttering and blushing a furious shade of red, when you retort by calling him honeybun

#prince aemond #aemond targaryen #aemond the kinslayer #aemond one eye #modern!aemond #house of the dragon #hotd #ewan mitchell #game of thrones #fire and blood #he acts so confident and then cant take SHIT #cocky dom turned whiny sub real quick #looks so hot when he's cocky #looks so pretty when he's shy

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wh0lemilk0vich · 1 year

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alright it's been like 5 minutes but GUESS WHO'S BACK FOR MORE cuz chubby king egg has not left my brain for some godforsaken reason

But let us come together as a community and consider a three-way sitch - hard dom feeder Aemond, soft dom Jace, and chubby sub Aegon. Like I don't know why this trio hits my brain in just the right place but it d o e s and I don't know what to do about it

Like Aemond and Jace don't get along at all, so they're constantly bickering and fighting over Aegon who is just subbed the fuck out at all times. Aemond is rough and mean and likes force feeding, whereas Jace is a lot more coaxing and prefers being condescending rather than cruel when it comes to humiliation, and when he feeds Aegon it's a lot slower and more about getting him into subspace.

Also, this just recently materialized in my prefrontal cortex but for some reason it hits my mind in just the right place that Aegon is a crybaby. He gets easily overstimulated when overfed and will just kind of break down crying at different points, which I imagine Aemond fucking loves. More reason to tease his brother for being a softling with little control of himself.

These three in a bedroom setting would be as comedic as it is kinky - Aemond and Jace basically territory battling over Aegon, who's literally lying there like "boys, boys, no need to fight over lil ol' me" while ABSOLUTELY wanting them to fight over him. Jace delicately unclasping Aegon's doublet until Aemond gets fed up and just rips that shit off with the grace of a neanderthal and the desperation of a starving man.

Aegon would be a hell of a bratty bottom too, but like not even in the traditional way. It wouldn't be like "no, I don't wanna do that" - rather, he just says completely out of pocket shit that confuses the hell out of both Jace and Aemond.

Like they'd be stuffing him with some kind of fancy lemon cake and he'll just start spouting off about how some whore on the street of silk told him that eating lemons makes your cum taste better, and how one of them should taste his cum and let him know if there's a difference. And Jace and Aemond are just standing there, wondering how the hell Aegon came to the conclusion that this was good dirty talk

So they just stuff him enough that he can only whine instead of talking

-🍄

SHROOMIE this means everything to me. I want ever-so-much more of this community of fat sub bratty bitch Aegon truthers.

1. I am so into Jaegond it's not even funny. Like it's the exploring each other's bodies and naturally falling into these roles that just gets me. They could be anyone and anything to the outside world, but in their chambers it's egg is a fat submissive brat to tease and play with, and Aemond and Jace fight over who gets the toy. And you're right Jace is much more manipulative and condescending during his turns with Aegon preferring to tease and play around with him. Ties him up and edges him or plays with him until he's in tears and cums without being touched, twitching and squirming through it. But Aemond is 100% rough and forceful and loves to force feed his brother and humiliate him, grab him, make it clear how fat he's getting, how massive and soft and bitchly he is. Loves playing with/sucking his tits. Tells him if his ass gets any fatter he won't be able to reach his greedy hole anymore.

2. Crybaby Aeg is so fucking wonderful 🥵🥵🥵 he grew up a crybaby and stayed a crybaby and it's just a reflex now. Its not like he doesn't love everything that's happening, still completely hard, but like you said the overstimulation, being over full, and toyed with the entire time, he doesn't have anything else he can do and it makes him look even more cute and pitiful. But what about Aemond licking up Aegon's tears while fucking him and Jace is sucking his tits and edging him like, I'm weaaaaak 🥵

3. Absolutely love the idea of them fighting over Aegon. I bet Jace likes to keep Aegon mostly dressed, because he likes making him a mess in them, feeding him until they're too tight and straining and making him burst some of their fastenings before he finally relents and undoes more. But yeah Aemond is more bestial and feral and he lets his cock do all the thinking so he likes to gracelessly strip Aegon naked and just have his way with him.

4. Aegon's always an absolute dissolute mess which leads to him being a thoughtless little brat saying all of that out of pocket shit. Omg imagine him threatening "just wait until Mother hears about this, you won't be laughing then." Sad little mommy's boy

#misha speaks #🍄 anon #chubby aegon ii targaryen #chaser aemond targaryen #chaser jace #chubby kink #dom/sub #degradation kink

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barbieaemond · 5 months

Text

Lykirī

PAIRING: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

WARNINGS: loss of virginity, fingering, oral sex (f and m receiving), handjob, we ride him bitches, dom/sub tones if you squint

WORD COUNT: 8.9k

Author's note: an early Christmas gift for those who celebrate!! For those who don't, just a regular smutty piece. This was based on a request where wife!reader rides Aemond. Merry Aemondmas :)

MASTERLIST

taglist: @zae5 @multyfangirl @arcielee

"You are to marry the King's second son. Prince Aemond Targaryen."

Those were your father's words. Your sister had looked at you almost with pity and a hint of relief since that fate had befallen you and not her. You had simply nodded, accepting the fate decided by your father, just as thousands of other daughters before and after you would have done.

Your mother had come to comb your hair before going to bed, and without much ado, she had told you what would happen after the wedding, after the banquet.

"All you have to do is try to relax your nerves, and I promise it will be less painful.”

The thought had stuck in your brain until the wedding day. And the aura emanating from the prince didn't help. He was stoic to the point of looking like a statue, his posture rigid as a spindle, and there was something unsettling about him that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand when he took your hand to recite the wedding vows. Fear, but also a foreign giddiness prickling your skin upon feeling his calloused fingers around yours.

The banquet had not helped either. Prince Aegon had behaved like a court jester, drinking to the point of wondering how he could stand upright, poking his brother with cruel jokes about his eye and a whore who had made Aemond a man many years before.

You didn’t know what kind of unpleasant memories your good-brother had just summoned in his brother’s mind. That woman and her cheap perfume, that way it had clung to his skin, to his thoughts for days after his only ever trip to Flea Bottom.

Then the elder Prince had approached you with his breath stinking of Dornish and it was then that Prince Aemond broke his icy silence, standing up abruptly and looking down at you. "Come, wife. It is time for us to retire."

Prince Aegon had clapped his hands as if in front of a hilarious show, saying "Finally some fun! The bedding!"

The entire crowd present at the banquet had escorted you to the prince's chambers. The servants had removed your dress, leaving you in your underskirts; you had unconsciously covered your chest, crossing your arms to hide from the greedy eyes of the men peering in the doorway, Prince Aegon in the front row with yet another cup of wine clutched between his fingers.

Master Mellos invited you to lie down on the bed, and you obeyed, swallowing, while a host of servants shielded you from view as the Maester made his humiliating inspection.

"All is in order, your Graces," the Master informed the Prince and Queen. And that was enough for Aemond to completely slip the iron mask off his face and go straight to the door. "The show is over. Get out."

"Oh, come on, little brother. Let me watch, at least. I could give you some tips."

Aemond had towered over his brother, and from your seat on the bed, you were able to see the eldest brother shrinking by the moment. "This is not some common whore you're speaking of.” Aemond seethed “She is my wife, and you will owe her the respect she deserves. One more lewd word from your mouth, and I will rip your tongue with my bare hands. Am I being clear?”

"Gods, brother, are you already so cunt-struck?"

He never got an answer, only the door being slammed right into his face.

You stood in the middle of the room, torturing your hands as he looked at you from the door. He seemed unsure of what to do, until he cleared his throat and took a few tentative steps in the room.

“You could have some wine, if you wish. It may…help you.” He said, but as he said this, he seemed to regret his own words, given how his mouth twitched as if he had just tasted something sour. Memories could come just like that, sudden and sour.

“You must relax, my prince. Have some wine, maybe? No need to worry, I will take care of you just as a prince deserves to.”

“I’d like to keep my mind clear, my Prince.” You said, keeping your gaze down, hearing his fast and deep sigh. “Fine.” he said, straightening his back as a soldier. After all, wasn’t this just another duty?

It wasn’t just that though. You were his wife now, the future mother of his children. It was his duty and his right to claim you as his own.

“Lay on the bed.”

With your heart pounding in your ears, you did as you were told but when the mattress dipped under his weight, you did not expect to see him with his clothes still on, the eyepatch firmly in its place. More so, you did not expect the harshness of his gestures as he held your waist to turn you around. The air hitched in your throat as your face met the mattress and a strange sorrow gripped your heart. Did he not want to look at you? Did he not like you?

“Try to stay still and it’ll be over shortly.” he said. He was trying to sound reassuring, but his voice came out cold and flat. His fingers latched on your underskirts, hiking them up, filling you with embarrassment as you grow completely exposed beneath him.

Aemond knew what to do. He may not have been as depraved as his brother, but he was still a man. And once in a while, when his hands would not suffice, some maid or servant girl would’ve had to bear, quite keenly on their part, his intimate attentions.

As his hands began to glide on your thighs, you shivered and said “Wait…”

Slowly your head turned to look at him, cheeks red and breath slow and anxious. “Am I not allowed to look at you?”

Your words seemed to stun him for a moment. The mere thought of you wanting to look at him made him realize how wrong he was behaving. You were his wife, not a common whore to bend over and have his moment of bliss. He had even told Aegon. That was not his intention, but there was a gap between how he felt and how he acted, a limb severed by years of pity looks and feelings trapped in his mouth and swallowed.

Almost gently, he made you turn but once you were facing him, he pinned your wrists on the mattress, unable to touch him even if you had gathered enough courage to do it. You tried to brace yourself for what your mother had told you. But she had not told you that he would touch you there, that all your senses would go numb except for that one brand new feeling between your legs. But he seemed enthralled by it just as you, his mouth parting to let out slow puffs of air as you grow wet and swollen against his fingers.

Your breath was labored, coming out in soft pants that made your cheeks purple. More so because he kept circling his deft fingers on your core while looking straight into your eyes, reveling in the way you were answering to his call, in the way he was shaping your need, your desire.

“You never touched yourself, did you?” he asked in a husky voice.

You barely shook your head and his eye glinted with something dark as he brought his face close to yours “Good. I shall be the only one inside you.”

He swallowed your shaky breath with this mouth, kissing you for the very first time, apart from the shy, almost prude peck exchanged after the wedding vows. Your lips moved shyly, trembling with the coiling pressure between your legs. And just when you thought this heat, this delicious aching couldn’t grow more unbearable, he sticked a finger inside you, spilling a loud moan right against his mouth.

One of your wrists twisted in his harsh hold, willing to touch him, to grip on something, but he didn’t let you. “Easy…” he blew on your lips “Relax. It’ll feel good, I promise…”

It surely felt good to him, to feel the tightness of your cunt squeezing his finger. He curled it and you squinted your eyes, choking a gasp that made him smirk proudly against your jaw. “Gods, you’re so tight…” he breathed as he kept rubbing slowly against your walls.

“It’s—it’s too much—“ you cried out with pain and pleasure running together, breathing his scent of ash, leather and a hint of something minty.

“How will you take my cock if you can’t even take my finger?” He whispered with benevolent cruelty, moving his finger faster and deeper.

Certainly your mother had not told you of the obscene wet sounds you would hear, of the uncontrollable moans coming out of your mouth, of his soft growling next to your ear when his breeches became too tight.

He had lined the tip of his hard manhood to your entrance, catching your breath away as tried to still your nerves, but the pain came altogether. You felt like he was cutting you from the inside. Tears filled your eyes, squinting for the painful stretching. You knew he was restraining himself; he didn’t want to hurt you more than he already was. And you almost felt affection for him, most men would not have bothered.

Then he had started to move, you felt that stranger body rubbing over and over against your walls, and finally the pain soothed, but not completely. You could tell he was enjoying it, his ragged breath and faint moans told you so, as well as the curses hissed through his teeth in a language you guessed was Valyrian. And then he had stilled completely, gripping your hips hard and firm while you felt a hot wave pulsing through your core.

The next morning, you could barely sit down for breakfast, and your aunt had looked at you with concern and a hint of amusement in her eyes. She was a veteran at court, a long-time widow, and quite happy to be so. It was her who suggested your betrothal to the Prince.

"How are you feeling, sweet niece?"

"Awful." you said promptly, shifting your weight on the seat.

"Well, this is the kind of anguish all women must go through."

"I thought that was giving birth to another human being."

"Oh Gods, no. That is the ugly part. This is the good one," she said with a sly smile "I suggest you enjoy it as much as you can."

At the time, you didn't really understand what she meant. The first night with the prince had gone...well, you thought. But he certainly enjoyed it more than you.

The second time was better. Your muscles were still sore, but the pain was but a faint discomfort compared to the pleasure you felt for the very first time in your life.

The third time he went down on you, bringing you so close to the edge only to deny your release, with cruel enjoyment on his part, making you whine with shame at the loss of his mouth and tongue on your folds.

The fourth time he bent you down on the breakfast table, all things falling in a mess of cutlery. He had pulled up your skirts and lowered his breeches just enough to thrust in, unraveling a special spot deep inside of you that had you mewling like some primitive beast.

The fifth time he had you writhing in bed, hair stuck to your head with sweat and hands clenching the sheets while he had you peak three times in a row.

It was then that you started to think your aunt was right.

That was indeed the good part.

“Are you afraid?” he asks, with a soft taunt on the tip of his tongue. You drag your eyes away from the gigantic beast before you and almost scoff. That is enough for him to laugh, quietly, but still not quietly enough for you to not notice and wonder at the view.

It’s been merely one moon since you’ve been married to Prince Aemond, and you could count on the fingers of your hand the times you have seen him laugh. It was eerie at first, you feared all the things you heard about the One Eyed Prince were true. That he was cold as stone and just as hard. And he was. But the more you spent time together, the more you were able to make cracks, and let light through.

“I’m equally afraid as any little mortal of right mind would be in front of the largest dragon in the known world, my dear husband.”

His lips stay quirked up, but his eye widens, as it always does when you call him that. He steps close to you, a few of his long strides are enough for him to tower over you, and the ground below your feet shifts.

“Come.” He says, taking your hand, “I promise she won’t eat you.” This time you deliberately glare at him, and he raises an eyebrow. “Do you need some other kind of persuasion to trust me? Perhaps like the one I used this morning?”

The early afternoon sun makes his face almost hurting to watch, or maybe it's just his bold gloating that makes his appearance so exhausting.

“That was not persuasion.” you remark, hiding the tinge of red on your cheeks “It was coercion.”

“Hmm. You didn’t seem so hostile when I made you come twice before breakfast.”

"I was hostile to the chance of the maid assisting with what we were doing."

"The maid should know better than to enter while my wife is undressing."

His eye roams over you just as he had done that morning, hunger clouding it, making your insides shrink. "Perhaps it's best if she knew. Someone must be aware of how cruel my husband is." there's a soft tease in your tone—something you are still learning, but true nonetheless.

He had ripped your nightgown with his bare hands when the maid entered to help you dress. She fled hastily, but you barely spared a glance at her, already lost to the fierce claim of his hand between your legs. He had taken you, twice, and then ordered you to dress, forcing you to have breakfast with the Queen and the Princess with your thighs still sticky with sex, sticky with him.

And he had been there, sitting just in front of you, with a piercing and delighted gaze.

He pulls your hand, and you follow, getting closer to that living relic that is Vhagar, Queen of All Dragons. She raises her monstrous head and looks straight at you with her amber eyes.

It is the first time you step so close to her, and even if you thought about it a lot, your heart is pounding fast, and your breath comes out slow and labored. She's a dreadful wonder.

She flares her nostrils and smells you, making a low rumble which results in a gust of hot wind that ruffles your hair and skirts.

“Lykirī, Vhagar.” Aemond says quietly “Issa ñuha ābrazȳrys. Kostā pāsagon zirȳla.”

You look at him questioningly, and he answers. “I told her you are my wife. And she can trust you.”

You cast a curious look at the dragon and then back at him “Is that all it takes? You tell dragons to trust you, and they resist the urge to turn you into their meal?”

Aemond curves his lips and makes you step closer, standing behind you and guiding your hand on the old green scales. “It takes much more than that.” he whispers in your ear “You have to surrender to them, completely. A dragon is no slave.”

You feel the heat beneath your palm, but it’s not that that makes you swallow; it’s the heat of his breath on your neck, right into your ear, scorching his way into your brain and inflaming every thought.

“What does Lykirī mean?” you ask, and you hate how your voice cracks on the edges.

He smirks because he knows, he always does. But he does not answer. Instead, he pulls your hand again, and you follow, circling the beast until stopping before the intricate ropes that lead to the saddle.

“Aemond, I don’t think—”

“You are my wife and you will ride with me on dragon back.” He said, commanding.

Truthfully, you gladly want to obey; there is just a slight difference between picturing riding a dragon and doing it.

Even the climbing to get in the saddle is a challenge on its own, but he helps you until you firmly seat yourself in it. Aemond sits behind you, and you look around with widened eyes, as if you are looking down from the highest tower ever built, except this is a living one, made of fire and breathing fire.

He leans over you to grab the reins, and you tense, waiting with bathed breath.

“Dohaeras, Vhagar. Soves!”

She lets out a loud screech that makes your ears hurt, but you have no time to even register it because she's already moving. You grip Aemond’s arms and brace yourself against his chest when Vhagar lurches onward and opens her huge wings to take flight.

She goes up and up, above the clouds, and your head is dizzy, with fear, with euphoria, until you are laughing like a child, like you never did in your entire life. Aemond lets go of the reins and laces his arms around you, angling his head to look at you, his silver hair violently ruffled by the wind. “How does it feel, my sweet wife?”

There are no common words to describe it. Now you know why they say Targaryens are closer to Gods than men. No man could claim a dragon or rule the skies.

“I feel like I’m close to the Gods.” you say, and he tightens the hold on you “Dragons do not answer to Gods.” he says, burying his nose in your hair “Where does this leave us?”

You turn your head to look at him, and you feel like you are looking at one of them. And yet he looks like he’s beyond any God.

“Above them. Above the Gods.”

“Hmm.” He croons, breathing your scent through his nose, and then his right hand grabs your skirt and dips underneath, until you feel his cold fingers grazing your skin. “I will make you feel like one.”

He cups your core through your small clothes, and you whimper, gripping his arm harder. He feels your heat through his palm, hotter than Vhagar’s own fire, and he sets the fabric aside to properly touch you. “My sweet wife.” he whispers, sliding a finger between your folds “Always so ready for me.”

“Aemond.” You say, holding your breath, trying to oppose but your voice cracks, and your body with it, already answering to his call. You see clouds before your eyes, but it’s all a blur, all your senses are enslaved by his touch, rubbing lazy circles on your bud. Too slow for your liking, for your need. Your hips arch and buck, chasing his hand for more friction, and he laughs, darkly. “What is it? What do you need, sweet girl? Tell me.”

He takes your chin with his free hand and forces you to turn your head and look at him. His hold is ruthless, but his tone is almost pleading. “Tell me.” he orders and you feel like he’s smothering you, sweeping away all the air from your lungs. “I-I need more…”

“More of what?” he asks, stopping altogether. “Show me.”

You look him in the eye and swallow, heat inflaming your cheeks, but there’s no place for shame, not here. It is just a faint ghost passing through you, and then it’s gone. Your hand pulls the gown up, and you place it on his, like a feather. “Here.” You breathe on his mouth “Inside.”

The howling wind does nothing to muffle his growl, and then he’s kissing you, harshly, teeth clashing and biting your lips as he accepts your plea, sliding a finger inside of you.

A strangled moan escapes you, and he swallows it, darting his tongue in every corner of your mouth. He releases your chin only to grab your leg to further open them and then he adds a second finger, moving them deftly until reaching that special spot. Your head falls back on his shoulder, gasping loudly, digging your nails into his hand.

Your breath is ragged and fast, and you uselessly try to stifle moan after moan even if there are only the skies to hear.

“Don’t.” he says grazing your lobe with his teeth “I want to hear you. I want you to scream for me.”

Your mind goes blank, as does all your restraint. You feel the tide coming to crash you, hips moving on their own accord, chasing and chasing. And then you’re drowning in it, mouth falling open and flesh and bones clenching and trembling.

He grunts softly when your nails scratch his skin and his fingers slip out, glistening; he raises them to his lips and tastes every drop of you. Still panting, he takes your chin once more with his sticky fingers and licks your lips, so you taste yourself on his tongue.

Your head is still dizzy when Vhagar lands in a clearing in the King’s Wood, but this has nothing to do with altitude. Your limbs are heavy when he helps you dismount, your legs buckle. There is a tautness knotting your bones, itching your fingertips.

You wish to touch him, because you have never, not as a wife would touch her husband, not as he has done with you.

It is only a moon and yet he has taken you almost every night and every day. He has touched you everywhere, he has molded you to his liking, and you let him do it with giddiness, undoing yourself like clay in his hands. He had put his mouth on you, and you have discovered he particularly enjoyed it, because he has done that at the most inopportune times, even in some dark corner of the corridors.

And you wondered if you could do the same with him—not because you have to, but because you want to. You want to claim him just as he claims you, relentlessly.

And he really is. He is relentless, he doesn't give you the time to wander with your hands, to discover, to touch. Fire burns him quickly and you are ashes before you realise you are burning with him.

“I didn’t know my wife had claws.” He says at one point, while you are going back to the Keep.

You wake from your thoughts and turn, watching him raise his hand to show the red marks on the back of his hand, and the sight makes you almost proud—proud to have left a mark of you on him. But you want more, and he wants more. You know it; it takes a brief look at his breeches to know that he wants more.

You dart your eyes around, but there's no one. So, you stop. Trying to gather all the boldness you never had, you step closer to him and take his hand in yours. Your eyes look up slowly, glinting with uncertainty and bravery. "Then let me soothe your pain, husband."

Aemond’s eye widens, and the air around you turn heavy, forcing you to open your mouth to breathe. You take one more step and bring the back of his hand to your lips, kissing it gently while your eyes stay fixed on his face. The other hand goes tentatively to his chest and then slides down, and for once, just once, he’s the one answering your call. His eye darkens and his lips part when your hands bashfully grab the laces of his breeches.

But you should have known better. Targaryens and their desires. Doomed to take whatever they want, whenever they want, answering neither Gods nor men.

You barely blink and he grabs you by the wrists and forces you to the ground. Cold grass and bushes stinging your back make you gasp, but Aemond is already on you, watching you like a century-long thirsted man who takes a glimpse of a water spring, as if you could evaporate from his sight at any moment.

“Aemond, please.” you beg “let me—“

But his tongue is in your mouth, hot and scorching you alive. Your eyes flutter shut, and he hikes your skirts up, taking hold of your hips. You feel his bulge against you, hard and ready, and you can do nothing else than wait, pinned down like prey, all bravery a distant memory.

Suddenly he lowers himself down, lifting your skirts with haste until you’re completely bare half down. “No—Aemond, please I want to—”

“You want what?” he asks with a wolfish grin “Deny me your sweet taste? Iksā ñuhon, ābrazȳrys.” He said that already, you know what it means. You are mine.

“You belong to me. And this…” he swears placing your legs on his shoulders while looking at your aching core as a man who found the greatest treasure in the world. “This belongs to me as well.”

He runs his tongue up and down your wet folds, humming with delight as he tastes you and sees you squirm, arching your back on the stingy bushes. You moan loudly when he slowly swirls his tongue, not able to keep track of your hips starting to move on their own, thrusting into his mouth and the sight of you like this, makes him even wilder, pushing him to open his mouth and put it entirely on your cunt, sucking harshly until anything before your eyes becomes blurred.

Your legs on his shoulders begin to shake and curl, caging him further against you, but just when you are about to come straight into his mouth, he pulls back. A weak sob leaves your mouth as your hips keep bucking against nothing and he smirks at that, untangling your legs from his shoulders, running his tongue over his lips, to taste what's left of you on him. You look at him through dazed eyes and a tinge of annoyance for the denied release. “What?” he has the boldness to ask with a sly smirk “Did you not enjoy it?” he runs his thumb on his glistening chin and swiftly licks it. "Hmm. I most certainly did."

“Aemond, please.” you claw desperately at his shoulders and forearms, forcing him to lie on you, feel something that could soothe the aching between your legs. He seems keen to grant you this mercy, molding his crotch against you so you can feel how hard and desperate he is.

“Please.” you beg in a thin voice.

“Speak it plainly, my love. I want to hear it from your pretty mouth.”

You look at him straight in the eye and what you say next is not a request nor a plea. Your mother would be ashamed of you, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

You are not begging. You are demanding. “Fuck me.”

He doesn’t need more than a few moments to get his cock out of his breeches, and not a moment later he’s pushing inside of you, your back arching on the bushes and your throat fighting for breath. He groans and starts a relentless pace, lifting his weight from you just enough for him to look at his cock going in and out, the sight only pushing him to thrust harder and harder. “Look at you.” he croons, sweet and rough “You were born to take me, to be mine.”

Your face twists with pleasure, teeth biting your lower lip while he takes you higher and higher, higher than any sky a dragon could ever take you.

He soon becomes messy and sloppy, cursing under his breath, but you can barely hear him. Your mind is sluggish and everything comes muffled: him, the birds chirping on some tree, your wet flesh slapping against his in the lewdest and most blessed way.

He curses some more, and then he’s spilling inside you, his arched mouth opening and his eye closing like a man absolved.

And yet, he does not stop. He has not claimed enough.

“Māzis, dōna ābrazȳrys. Come for me.”

Your hand clutches something on the ground, something with thorns that pierces your skin with pain, but you can’t even feel that, because you are falling, legs trembling around him, and heart stopping for an endless moment of pure breathtaking bliss.

“Gevie.” he coos with his lips on yours, falling with his body on you, still clenching and pulsing around him. He stays right where he is, nesting inside of you, and now it is the only chance you have been granted to touch him. You put an arm around his shoulders, catching your breath, and look at the skies above, thinking you are indeed above them.

It was easy to explain the dirt and grass stains on your dress. It was a little less easy to explain the twigs in your ruffled hair when you and Aemond returned to the Keep only to meet the Queen Mother along one of the corridors. Alicent merely smiled at you with a tight smile and did not spare from giving a look full of daggers to her son.

"Seven Hells" you mutter when you go back to your rooms and catch a glimpse of the mess you are in the mirror.

Aemond stays on the threshold to close the door and grins, or rather, gloats.

You step out of your muddy shoes and start to pull the laces of your dress.

"What are you doing?" he asks, and you playfully glare at him. "Am I allowed to take a bath now? Or do you want me to go around all sullied? I fear there are no believable excuses for the state I’m in."

"You can tell them the truth." he says, walking to you and replacing your hands with his to help you pull the intricate laces.

You smile softly with your back turned before raising an eyebrow, asking "Which is?"

He keeps his eye focused on the dress, a slight furrow in his brow, and stoically serious, he says "That your husband fucked you in the King's Wood."

"I could tell the maid. I'm sure she won't be stunned after what she saw this morning."

He makes you turn so you can look at him, and the sight before you makes your heart sing. His eye roams on your face softly, a rare sight on him, always stoic, always sharp, like all the angles composing this beautiful sculpture of black glass.

You always thought of marriage as a strategic deal for men, and a way for women to prove their value to the world, giving those same men sons and daughters. But you care for him. And he cares for you. That look on his face is enough for you to know that he cares for you, not merely as a brood mare.

“Gevie.” he says, quietly, and he touches your cheek, softly, making you wonder how those same hands can be so delicate and yet so merciless at the same time.

“What does it mean?” you ask, even if you are sure he will not answer. You observed that when he speaks in High Valyrian he does it almost to himself, as if to protect something he does not wish the others to know.

But this time, he meets your eyes and lowers his hand. “Beautiful.”

You look at him with your heart pounding in your throat, and then you stand up on your toes, crashing your mouth against his, almost catching him by surprise. But he is all too deft at turning the game on his side, and a few seconds later, his hands are gripping your hips and his tongue is licking the roof of your mouth.

When the door suddenly opens, you pull back, spotting the same maid from that morning who, this time, can do nothing but suffer the Prince's wrath.

"Can't you just fuck off for once?!"

You hold back a laugh against his chest and the poor maid flees in a hurry. But when he pulls you to him, tilting his head to pick up where he left off, you step back and say, "I'm afraid the Queen has requested your presence. You should go, my dear husband. I promise that by tonight I will be completely clean."

"Tonight?" he asks, raising his eyebrow. "What is happening tonight?"

You shrug your shoulders and hold back a smile. "Innocence doesn't suit you, my Prince."

"Neither does you."

"I'm afraid this is your fault. You are sullying my soul as well as...everything else."

"You won't be of the same mind when you have my child growing in your womb," and he smirks, looking at you as if he's taking a sacred oath, and then walks away.

You finally manage to take a bath and change clothes, and then you go to visit your aunt. She spends most of her time alone, sipping tea in the gardens, partly because she can't stand the other court ladies, partly because the court ladies can't stand her. Truthfully, you cannot blame them, your aunt speaks plainly—too plainly at times.

You sit down with her for tea, which you end up swallowing like salt, because your aunt takes it with a whole squeezed lemon, and no sugar.

"I saw you with your husband earlier. I may be too old for new fashion but mud on your skirt and twigs in your hair seem a bit too brazen, even for me."

You stifle a smile, recalling what happened. If only she knew he was brazen enough to have you utterly undone on dragon back, thousands of feet up.

Your eyes go distant while you fumble with some tablecloth threads, but your Aunt stares at you piercely, and grabbing her cup of tea she says "I love that look on you."

"What?"

She sips the sour liquid and puts the cup down. "That look. The I'm in love look."

"I am not!" you counter, cheeks going red.

"Of course you are. I've watched you two. I dare say he's falling way faster than you."

You look at her puzzled. Many things have changed in a moon. And you are sure you are utterly infatuated with him. But you did not know what to think of what he actually feels for you, if he even feels something. You know he cares for you, you know he loves spending time with you. You know he's passionate, possessive, almost soft at rare times. But in love? That seems too soon to consider, or to hope for.

"It is too soon to talk about love."

"In fact, I did not, my sweet niece. Falling in love and love are beasts of different species. Why do you think we say "falling"? You can't stop from falling. To love a person is an entirely different matter. Love is a choice."

You let those words sink but you prefer not to question your heart right now. There is a reason you have come here to talk to your aunt, even if you don't know how to address the matter without melting from embarrassment.

But in the end, who could you ask for advice? Your squeamish maids? The Queen Mother? Definitely not.

"Listen, I...I wanted to ask you something..." you start "It is uhm...a matter of somewhat intimate nature."

"Ah, my favourites." your aunt says, beaming "I am all ears."

You shift uncomfortably in your chair and swallow another sip of that dreadful tea "My mother...she explained to me what would happen between husband and wife to...consummate the marriage. But she didn't tell me...well, everything else."

Your Aunt is quick to raise her eyebrow "I gathered that your marriage had been consummated by now. Thoroughly."

"Y-yes, of course. But I...discovered...that there are other ways for a husband to please his wife...and I was wondering if...if I could…do those same things to please him."

Your aunt looks utterly puzzled for a long moment, and then, almost stunned, she says "Oh Seven Hells, child. You are telling me you never sucked your husband off?"

A few court ladies walking near turned their heads, going white as sheets, while you, on the contrary, take a nice purple shade.

"Oh, don't look at me like that, prissies. We all did it eventually." she dismisses them, waving a lazy hand, and looks back at you. "You should do it, if you wish. Men love it. Your uncle used to ask—"

"I don't want to hear that, auntie, I'm begging you." you say squinting your eyes.

"Listen to me, child. Men love to think they rule everything, everywhere. But it is not always like that. And if you want to rule your husband's heart, you must rule in his bed first."

That evening, Aemond wanted nothing more than to lock himself in his room with his wife and forget all the hateful political talk he had had to endure at dinner.

You had not attended, and that had bothered him. Never would he have thought of marriage as anything more than a duty, yet there he was, wondering where you were, who you were with, and why you weren't in his rooms when he set foot in there.

"Where is my wife?" he asks the maid, and she keeps her eyes glued to the floor, saying "The princess spent the evening in the library, your Grace. She told me that she would be—"

"I am here," you say, appearing behind the young maid.

You see his chest sag as if a weight is leaving him, and he casts an icy glance at the poor maid "Out."

He is rarely kind to servants, but you can tell by his tense shoulders that something is wrong.

"Aemond, what is the matter?" you ask as soon as the door closes, walking up to him with a hand behind your back.

"Where were you? Why weren't you at dinner?"

"I was in the library."

"For four hours?"

"It was a tough read—"

He grabs your arm, gripping hour wrist harshly, and you flinch. "Aemond, I swear to you.” you say watching his eye on fire and a sneer twisting his mouth “You can ask Maester Mellos."

Suddenly he lets you go, and looks down, closing his eye for a moment. But he doesn't apologize, he never does, and not because he is a Prince. It's just the way he is. He doesn't apologize, he doesn't say thank you, he doesn't say please.

"Aemond, what's going on?"

"I don't want to talk about it now. In fact, never. Not here."

You watch him carefully, and you nod as he moves to pour wine into a cup. You watch him gobble it up greedily, which is unlike him. So, you get close and move your hand from behind your back and say, "Anyway, I wasn't lying. I really spent four hours in the library...trying to decipher this."

You show him an old book, and the title catches his eye, cup held in midair. "Tales of the Dragonlords?" he asks frowning. "This is in High Valyrian."

"It is." you confirm as you move closer, and you steal his cup before saying, "Would you read it to me?" and you take a sip, of wine and courage.

He watches the liquid flow down your throat and then accepts the invitation, taking the book—the one he has read so many times he can recite it by heart. He opens it to the first page, but you say "No. Page 72."

There is a slight imperative tone in your tone of voice, and it thrills him, given how his eye glints under the candlelight. He drops it on the table, looking at you from head to toe, and says, "I'll read it to you later, sweet wife."

He steps closer but you back away saying, "Fine, then. I'll tell you what I understood so you can correct me or not." and at the same moment your own hands go up on your corset and you start pulling on the laces.

The gesture catches his eye like a moth to a flame and he stays silent as you pull all the laces and then slip off your dress, remaining in your underskirt. His gaze roams over you slowly, and with a soft smirk, he decides to play the game.

“Page 72, you said. How Dragonlords claimed Dragons.”

“Yes.”

"And why did it capture your interest? Do you wish to do it? Do you wish to claim a dragon?"

"I wish to conquer, not claim."

He comes closer and looks at you, breathing through his nose, restraining, always restraining, and then he's raising his hand to reach a lock of your hair falling on your shoulder, but you stop him, air as heavy as moss.

"The Valyrian sages say a dragonlord must surrender himself completely to the dragon. But it works both ways. The dragon must submit his will to their rider."

He looks at you without blinking, and you take his arms, guiding him closer until you turn and push him lightly on the bed. He sits and you slowly climb on his lap, knees caging his hips, heart is pounding in your throat like a hammer. You hear him taking a swift breath and pride pools in your bones because for once you have caught him off guard.

You can feel his crotch hardening by the moment, but the look on his face is not one of hunger or lust. It is pure and blessed devotion.

You wonder at the view, and your eyes roam on his face until...

"Can I take it off?"

There's no need to say what. His face goes hard as stone, eye looking away with discomfort, with shame.

"Please, Aemond." you whisper. "I want to see all of you. I want you to bare yourself to me as I did to you."

"It is not pleasant."

"I don't want pleasantness. I want you."

He stares at you for an eternal moment and then he caves.

A flash of sparkling blue catches you completely and you can do nothing but watch with lips parted, while he keeps his eye down.

You wrap an arm around his shoulders and lean your head against his to breathe one single word in his ear. "Gevie."

His arms are all around you, holding you so tight you might gasp for air. Instead you are smiling, breathing through his long silver hair. You are not sure if you aunt is right, if love is indeed a choice. You can't bring yourself to care because you are doing it already.

And then he's kissing you, seizing your tongue with his in a fierce consuming way. He slightly hikes up your hips, and his hand tries to slide between your legs, but you lace your fingers around his wrist, breaking the kiss with panted breath.

"No." you whisper, and he looks at you almost questioningly, mouth open and chest heaving.

"Lykirī."

His eye widens and you smile, secretly. "I know what it means now."

He smirks at this and does not miss the chance to be the ever diligent scholar. "But you said it wrong. The R is hard."

“Lykirī.” You say again, following his lesson, and in the same moment your hand leaves his wrist and goes down to his breeches. He dips his chin to look at it, at your hands unsure, and he too looks unsure.

“You don’t have to—“

“I want to.” You say, and your voice comes out firm and clear. “Please, Aemond. Let me…let me touch you.”

He realizes now that in all the times you have been lying together, you never managed to lay a hand on him. He likes to keep people at distance. Too many wrong hands have been on him. The Maesters’, inspecting, debating, healing without healing. That whore, taking what it was not hers to take, not yet.

But he wants you to touch him. He has dreamed of it, in any way a man could dream of a woman’s touch.

He looks at you for a moment, chest rising slowly, and then, without taking his eye off you, he pulls the laces of his breeches and guides your hand around his cock. You look down, exhaling a long breath at feeling his hard and hot flesh already pulsing.

He knows you don’t know how to do it, so his hands guide you at first, going slowly up and down, and the air comes out of his mouth slowly and labored. You look up at him, his eye is pitch black, lid growing heavy with pleasure, and your core clenches, desire pools in your belly and flows down.

He must hear the call of your body, because he releases your hand, still stroking him, and goes right between your legs. You gasp loudly, and he hums, delight dripping from his voice just as you are dripping on his fingers. He starts to pump his fingers and you can do nothing but moan, clutching his shoulders with your free hand, the other still around his cock, but the act is growing lazy, your mind can’t focus properly on what you are supposed to do.

“Listen.” he orders you, fingers moving faster and faster, and you do listen. Your soaked flesh coming undone at his scorching touch. “Who else has you like this?”

But this is a question he’s asking himself. Because no one else will ever have him bare like this.

“You. Just you.” you say hoarsely, eyes closing and hips rocking on their own accord.

“And who am I?” he whispers just as hoarsely, and yet his voice is like a whip on all your senses.

“My husband.” you cry, feeling the wave ready to drown you “Ñuha zaldrīzes.” My dragon.

You cannot care less about how you said it, because then your mouth falls open, nails digging into his shoulder while your trembling hips keep riding his fingers, clenching them like a vice.

Your head falls onward, leaning against his forehead, and you try to catch your breath. You watch his wet fingers go straight into his mouth while he looks at you, humming with pleasure. “You look so pretty like this.” he says with the ghost of a smile on his lips “I should fuck you in Throne Room with the whole court watching, so they know how pretty you are when you come for me.”

You laugh with your cheeks flushing, and he slides an arm around you, and you know he wants to pin you down on the bed and fuck you until you are muffling nonsense in the pillow. But this is not his game. This is yours, and even if you don’t know how to play, you will win.

“No.” you say, climbing down from his lap, and he looks at you with hunger and a tinge of thrilling curiosity. “It is my turn to claim.” You say with all the bravery you possess.

Not a moment later, you are going down on your knees.

Another small victory, because his eye widens as he had never done before, and you can see that this, the sight of you on your knees before him, is something he has been craving for, even dreamed of it.

His breathing is slow, and you are not even touching him.

You place yourself between his knees and you lean closer and closer, anxiety twisting your insides, but you want to do this. “Lykirī, nuha zaldrīzes. Surrender.” you take him into your hand, tugging slowly, and your lips linger on the tip, heart pounding in your ears and eyes fixed on him. “Lykirī.” You say one last time and then you are swallowing him.

He hisses loudly and his lips part, hands clutching the covers until his knuckles go white. He’s like burning metal inside your mouth—hot and hard. At first, you just taste him, running your tongue over the head, and he’s cursing under his breath. His hands twitch on the covers, restraining and restraining, but there’s no need. You take his hand while looking at him and you release it from your mouth to say “Teach me.”

It’s like you have just poured fire on more fire. His eye goes wild, he takes hold of your head and starts to guide you again, making your mouth engulf him once more and deep down to the base and then up to the tip again, filling the room with a wet gagging sound. You get the gist of what you’re supposed to do, so your head starts going up and down and up and down, and he actually moans for you, head falling back for just a moment before looking back, he can’t help but watch as you fiercely claim him.

You watch his chest heaving fast and your jaw is starting to hurt but you don't care, you are too absorbed by the view before you. You are too thrilled by the fact that, for once, you have made him speechless.

He's always so bold in the bedroom, so cruel in deciding when and how to give pleasure, and now he's utterly speechless. He can only curse without breath, and gasp and groan.

“Kelītīs.” he manages to say at one point, voice all husky and cracking. You don’t know that word, and you have no time to ask because in a blink, he’s slamming you onto the bed and he’s hiking up your skirt, but you get on your elbows pushing him on his back and climbing on him.

“I’m not done, valzȳrys.” you say feeling his hard length inflaming your core, so you lay your hips on it as firmly as possible. “I claimed, but I did not conquer.”

“You are fucking torturing me.” he points out, bucking against you.

“Conquests could last for centuries, dear husband. You above all should know that.”

“All I know now is that I need to fuck you.” he says placing both hands on the sheets to pull himself up.

“No, I will.” you promise, rocking your hips once more “This is my conquest, not yours.”

You keep rubbing your drenched core on his length until a sheen of sweat glistens on his forehead, and he's so hard he's leaking from the tip. "You are twisted, wife." he says with a dazed tone and you smile even if you can't take it anymore, but you rock some more, saying "I'm a quick study. And I'm learning from the best."

Finally, when you are so wet you are dripping on him, you raise just enough to slide his cock inside of you.

You gasp together and you brace on his shoulders to start moving. You both know you are not going to last long, so you start rocking your hips slowly, taking him to the hilt until you struggle for air.

“Move…” he orders but you just take the opposite road, slowing your hips in a delicious torturing way. “Do you know what else the Sages said? A rider must know their mount, feel their heat below them.”

But Aemond does not have a single drop of blood in his head right now to give you an answer, let alone play your game; he's just fire that burns and burns and burns and just like the Sages said, you can feel his heat, burning below and inside you. He grips your hips and starts to thrust inside you like the wild beast you are supposedly claiming, until you are moaning so loud your throat hurts.

“Yes—” he growls as you bounce on him “Just like that—you’re gripping me so well—fuck"

You both turn sloppy, a mess of sweaty limbs and teeth biting, clutching at each other with bruising grips, pulling at the roots of his hair when you’re about to fall from the highest sky.

"Come on, my sweet girl. Let go for me." he breathes into your mouth, forcing you to move even faster "Let go fro your dragon. Seal your conquest." And you do.

He follows right after, spilling inside while digging his teeth into your neck like fangs on a prey, muffling his loud groaning.

And you are smiling like a fool, a lovestruck fool, but most of all, a conqueror.

Thank you so much for reading!! 💞💞

#likiri #liv(in la vida loca)#aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #aemond x wife reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x wife reader #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x you #aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond fic #aemond smut #hotd fic

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safely-in-vhagars-belly · 3 months

Text

Aemond x Reader (AFAB!)

Sweet Nothing (formerly known as games in the libarary part 2!)

Aemond x reader (Tutor/gamer au) Fluffish and also smuttish

🔷Summary: Your GPA is tanking and you need help. Luckily there is the grumpy antisocial Aemond to help you out.

🔷Author's note: Based on tutor aus but I made my own spin on it.

🔷Wordcount:5389

🔷Warnings: Au universe, smut, depraved thoughts, bullying, (not aemond or mc bullying each other) rich privilege and bad parenting and the word so*p.

NAMECHANGE: A reader left a comment saying they were listening to the song ''Sweet nothing'' by taylor swift and wrote it fitted them really well so I changed the title! I hope you all like the new title:))

There is something aesthetically pleasing about college parties. Especially if they are thrown by one of your best friends, Baela Targaryen. You heard Aemond is her older something, although the Targaryen family tree has the same effect as math on your brain: It turns to soup.

You despise soup.

It is the wettest of foods, the smell, but most, you hate the name. The word appears unnatural to you, as if someone had just thrown it together-

‘’You OK?’’ A gentle yet rough edged voice brings you out of your moral debate about why soup sucks. Aemond Targaryen has followed you loyally around (with your consent, this is not a stalker situation) campus and now you both approach one of the frat houses. The house is as big as a mansion and you sometimes wonder what illegal schemes the boys of the frat house and the university you attend get up to even afford the rent of this bohemian building.

It is odd. Prior to this whole day, you didn’t know Aemond could care about anything but himself, his grades, and his silly little motorcycle (he calls it Vhagar, and it’s a ‘’she’’ apparently. You find that a bit silly, but some things that men are oddly attached to receive that treatment. Like boats) Yet here he is, asking if you are OK.

You want to cheerfully ring out that you never have been better, but realization soon hits you that it's been a while that anyone was truly interested in how you were doing. If anyone cared at all.

‘’That is a complicated question.’’ You admit.

‘’With a complicated answer, I assume?’’ He is too clever for his own good.

You chuckle. ‘’Yeah. I’m doing fine.’’ Why you feel the need to lie to him, you don’t know.

Finally you both approach the gold with blue gatework where the three Valyrian words are chiseled into the framework of the gates. Aemond crosses his arms over his chest, his backpack over half his right shoulder, threatening to fall off any moment now. He clears his throat and reads the words out loud to you. ‘’Dracarys, Dona Daorun.’’ You know some of these words. One, to be exact. ‘’Such a odd motto.’’ He adds.

Even from the garden you can hear the noises of the party, chatting, spattering of water and even loud music as someone likely brought a speaker. Or three, if you know your friends well.

Aemond seems to stiffen at the noise, his blue eyes alarmed and doubt written across his face. Instead of letting him run off, you lace your fingers through his own,and simply drag him inside with you.

‘’Pool parties are my favorite.’’ You tell Aemond with a wink. ‘’I love swimming. I always wanted to be a mermaid when I-’’ You notice his cold and suddenly icy stare at the host of the party, who approaches you in his swimming trunks.

Jacaerys Velyaron simply runs a hand through his brown hair, pushing it back slightly before greeting you as if you two are long lost friends. ‘’Y/n! You made it!’’ He grins, likely already tipsy to say the least. He looks Aemond over and you both look like you’d belong anywhere but a pool party. ‘’And you brought a friend.’’ He adds. You chuckle uncomfortably at his icy tone. As if you brought a wooden horse in and the soldiers have crawled out.

‘’I hope it’s cool?’’ you say, waving enthusiastically at your friends. They don’t wave back, red plastic cups in hands and judgemental stares all over you, but especially over Aemond who is holding his backpack only tighter, regret mirroring in his good eye as he plays with a ring on his fingers.

Luckily Jace seems to agree.

‘’You know me too well.’’ He puts his hand on your back, escorting you quickly away from Aemond. ‘’Baela wants your help, I believe. And Daemon wants to play seven minutes but he has no one who wants to play.’’ You wrinkle your nose. Daemon is a sweet, but very intense guy. He means no harm, he is just a bit too intense for you. Plus, you were certain he and Queen B Rhaenyra were dating. You at least assumed so, after Rhaenyra’s claim was made on Daemon in the form of some pretty aggressive tongue locking.

You feel so glad to see Baela that you forget all about Aemond. ‘’Oh my gosh, Y/N! Finally free of your horror session!’’ She exclaims, perhaps a bit too loud before pushing you into an exeratated and perhaps bone-crushing and soul-vanishing hug. You hug her back, of course, pretending to go alone with her agreeing you enjoy your freedom…

Although you aren’t sure why she thought you were in peril?

And horror sessions?

You think back of the way that Aemond topped you in the library, fucking you just in the right spot at the sweet oak desk-

The only horror of it was the numbers perhaps. The rest of it felt nice. Your eyes wander to some of the guys, mostly jocks and athletes drinking in the corner of the room, gathered around in a circle when placing bets and boasting about their conquest. Aemond didn’t need to be nice, yet he treated you better than most of your ex boyfriends. He maybe wanted to be inside you all the same, but he bothered to offer lunch after, and when you talked, he listened. He paid attention. Your exes mostly were lost in the front of your shirt, or tried to shut you up with kisses. You thought it was affection. Now it sickenings you to think of it.

And just like that, your usual jock conversations don’t do the thing for you anymore. A tall jock named Laenor jokes with you about how a girl had a stutter when asking him out and all you think about is how Laenor and your friends would react if they would find out you are far from perfect.

That numbers cause wars in your head, that math frightens you, that your brain can’t handle puzzles and that it all is sometimes so much to handle, to know your brain works differently, it’s sometimes a lot. It would be nice, if someone would understand. Just once.

You notice Baela has gone missing. So has Jace. Not this again. ‘’I thought we all had agreed that we would not let Baela hook up with Jace again?’’ You scold the other girls. One of them, named Sara just shrugs.

‘’O, we totally agreed that we would, this morning when getting boba. You were missing, so you didn’t notice it.’’ She smiles sweetly but you have played Stardew Valley. You have endured the caves. You know when a skeleton is smiling at you. Fuck, you watched the vampire dairies. You know when someone is out there, for your neck. ‘’When you did your cute little charity project.’’

‘’Aemond is just a friend.’’ You hear yourself say the words before you can control yourself.

Is he? Then why do you feel the sting of that lie? Then why let him fuck you in a library? Then why tell him more about you than any of your friends? Then why invite him?

You think back of Aemond, suddenly all alone by the gates and turn back around, looking for him. The more ground you cover, passing by making out couples and gambling, the more your mind tells you something is wrong.

When you arrive by the pool, you hear Jace and his closest circle of friends laughing, as well as Baela. ‘’You saw the way he looked? I thought he was gonna cry there for a moment.’’ Jace taunts, kissing Baela drunk all over her cheek. Baela giggles and turns to face you.

‘’Y/n. Rhaenyra wants us all to get coffee tomorrow. I know you are currently busy with your charity project but do keep in mind that we must all respect the social hierarchy.’’ You nod absent, more dread filling your stomach as you eye the water, where something or someone clearly came out of or someone was pushed in.

‘’Did you guys see Aemond?’’ You ask, almost ignoring Baela’s suggestion, and Rhaenyra’s clear invention to once again snoop in your life.

‘’Aemond? What do you want with that loser?’’

Daemon finally has enough of Rhaenyra and walks over to you, but Rhaenyra remains watchful as a hawk, her arms crossed and her lips perfect in a scowl. In your circles it's unheard of to steal one’s boyfriend, even if the relationship is broken up. Aside from that, Daemon is hot but also hotheaded and a real pain in the ass when he wants to be.

You lie again. ‘’Nothing. I just have his books.’’ You don’t. He took them all with him. You only have his cum likely inside of you, thank the gods for the pill.

He scales you up and down, and you feel uncomfortable. ‘’Hm. You go do that, little thing. I have something for him.’’ He takes a moment and dramatically picks up something near the pool. You watch in horror as he pulls out a soaked notebook in your eyes proof that they threw Aemond and his books in the pool.

You feel the blood leave your face.

You brought him here.

You did this.

‘’What did you do?’’ You demand, your voice becoming unnaturally sharp and cold.

Daemon is not used to that and turns to Baela who looks shocked that you dare to address Daemon that way, over someone as Aemond. ‘’We threw his backpack in the pool.’’ Daemon says, like it's obvious, gesturing to the pool like you can’t see for yourself. ‘’The little shit had it coming all those years ago. He went after it. It was like watching a little puppy drown.’’ He likely went to grab his bag. Can Aemond even swim?

Jace laughs. ‘’Daemon jumped in and held him under water for a few minutes.’’ You nearly choke on the air you take.

‘’You what?’’ You don’t care that Daemon can beat you up or is the king of the school. That goes too far in your book. Aemond could have died.

Baela grabs your wrists, so she can look into your eyes.

‘’Why do you care? It’s funny. Aemond is a loser.’’ She says, as if she is somehow hypnotizing you into becoming her mindless follower again.

But this time, you win.

‘’That’s…not funny, Baela. That is dangerous and messed up.’’ You pull your hands away, and take off running back to the gates, looking for Aemond. You have made a mistake. But how long ago did you make this? How long were you a silent bully, a witness to a tyrant? How many Aemonds did you ignore?

You finally spot him, his jacket drenched walking down the dark street, his backpack half open and his face wet of either tears or water. You rush over, calling his name. At first he ignores you. The second time, he turns around glaring at you. ‘’I should have known it was too good to be true.’’ He says, finally his voice strangled. ‘’Which of them came up with the little game? I bet it was Baela.’’

‘’What Game?’’ But you already know. He thinks this was all a cruel joke to harm and humiliate him. To break his heart.

He scoffs. ‘’This game. You are pretending to care about me. You fucking me and letting me-’’ He points a finger at you accusingly but does not have the energy left to fight.

You rush after him. ‘’I’m sorry. I didn’t know you and Jace had history. And I didn’t know they would do this to you. Whatever you need replaced, I can-’’

And that is even worse. You are a rich girl, after all.

‘’Don’t bother.’’ He snaps at you. ‘’I want you to leave me alone.’’

You don’t know how to convince him to let you in again. You suppose honesty is the best approach. ‘’I’m sorry. I never should have brought you here. But you always seemed so lonely and-’’

‘’Why do you care?!’’ You are startled by his harsh tone but don’t back down. Instead you fold your hands and blink away tears you didn’t even know you had. Your voice is a soft, sweet whisper.

You know why you care. ‘’Because perhaps I know what it's like to be lonely. Perhaps I liked the guy you are when no one is around. Maybe I wanted to know you a bit better. Not all of us rich kids are malicious assholes like Daemon, you know?’’ He seems to take his armor off at those words, his face softening and avoiding your eyes, a clear sign of regret for yelling at you. You reach out to him, kneeling at his feet.

Aemond blushes in the light of the streetlights, quickly looking around for witnesses and anyone else who might see. ‘’Wow-’’ He nearly shouts in pure surprise, and you grin at where his mind went.

‘’Don’t get excited, mister. I’m just checking the damage.’’ You tell him. ‘’Sir.’’ You add with a cheeky grin. He holds back a soft groan, although you hear it perfectly. You open the backpack, taking his books out for him and putting them on the street, oblivious to your surroundings as you start examining them.

Most of these cost at least 500. And they are all ruined. Aemond mentioned before, he isn’t a ‘’rich little girl’’ like you, and likely does not have the funds to replace these books he needs for his study. You put them back in his backpack, but you and Aemond are not stupid.

You can both tell these books are done for.

And so is Aemond if you don’t fix this mess.

‘’I am so sorry.’’ You tell him. ‘’I had no idea they were capable of this.’’ You were blind. Just as blind as Aemond.

He nods, pretending to be aloof and cool about it, but you can judge by the way his eye is glued to his shoes that he is anything but cool about this. ‘’Nothing that can be done now.’’ You refuse to believe that. There’s gotta be something. Anything.

‘’That is not true.’’ You look at his books. ‘’I’m sure there’s a solution.’’

There has to be.

Certainly.

But Aemond does not want to hear it. Instead he heads toward his dorm. You follow him, lost as a puppy, carrying his backpack for him as he gave up on it. He may have given up on it, but you won’t give up on it yet.

–

Half an hour later, the door of the dorm door opens as you enter it. Aemond is laying on his bed, playing with a sapphire. He looks at you and you are confronted with the hole where his eye used to be. He curses, quickly covering his eye and searches for his eyepatch. You put the new textbooks on the table. Aemond’s mouth drops as he takes in the brand new books. ‘’No.’’ He simply declares. ‘’No, I can’t accept this. This is insane this must cost-’’ You will murder this man.

He smells freshly showered, and judging by his hair he just got a shower, a fresh set of clothes that haven’t felt your skin yet, and a attitude that makes your inner brat go wild. Focus!

You did have to pull some strings but you don’t mind. So what if your stepdick does not give you allowance for two whole weeks? So what if your mother is ‘’beyond disappointed?’’ Like she cares. If she really cared, she’d ditch that awful guy and fly home from her paradise fucking in Dorne.

If she cared, she’d know you had the diagnosis NVLD since you were six and would never even be considered to graduate in a math study like Aemond. She would know, these books are not meant for you. She would, if only she cared. Which she obviously, does not.

You silence Aemond with a gesture. ‘’Nothing. Consider it your payment for being patient with me during our lessons. If you still wish to continue it, of course.’’ You say. ‘’I took care of it. It’s fine.’

‘’Of course it is.’’ It does not matter if you meant well, Aemond sees it as a confirmation that he, as an average earning person, can never not have the same chances as a rich girl like yourself. He could be Einstein reborn and nothing could open the doors that are thrown open for you.

‘’If you feel bad, you take some classes I don’t do. And not all your books were in your bag. You can take the books from those subjects, and we can share during our shared subjects? Unless you think it’s stupid and want nothing to do with me, I’ll vanish from your life like a sock in a washing machine-’’ He simply cups your chin, kissing your forehead. You feel heat rush to your cheeks, fighting your emotions. He waits for you to push away.

You don’t.

So he leans in, kissing your lips.

‘’Thank you.’’ He whispers. ‘’This is like the coolest thing anyone has ever done for me.’’ He says, a bit emotional.

‘’That’s what friends do.’’ You tell him.

His response breaks your heart. ‘’Hm. I never counted myself lucky enough to find that out.’’

You notice the mood changes quickly and becomes sad again. You don’t deal with that very well. If at all. ‘’So, show me around!’’ He chuckles at your eagerness, getting up from the bed, putting the sapphire he was playing with aside on his nightstand.

‘’So, this is where the magic happens.’’ He gestures to his bed, with Pokémon covers on it. He seems to notice that a moment too late and shakes his head at you, blushing brightly. ‘’I- they’re a gift from my brother.’’ He quickly blurts out. ‘’We give each other silly things for the solstice. I gave him a Charmender plushie.’’

‘’I like squirtle.’’ You tell him with a wink. ‘’He’s perhaps a bit rough around the edges, but he’s a good guy.’’

Aemond blushes again, catching on.

‘’He’s pretty great. Do you have a favorite Pokémon?’’

You think, for a moment, and only the yellow little electrician shows up, the one that clings to the main guy in the show (or is it an anime?) who goes ‘’Pika! Pika, pika!’’ and shoots lightning out of his butt. Or tail.

That is not very impressive to you, to pick Pickahu. It’s a cliche. Aemond likely will want to hear another Pokémon. A clever one, a cute Pokémon that befits your personality and your whole life.

You think back to when you were alone for your 7th birthday party. The chefs at your home had put on pancakes and you had more toys and gifts than you could count. But your mother wasn’t there. Again, gone with the Stepdick. But you know who was there? Pikachu. It was all you could rely on. Pikachu would always be there.

‘’I can only think of the main one. Sorry.’’ you confess. ‘’Pikachu.’’

He looks you up and down, as if picturing you…perhaps as a Pokémon?

‘’Don’t be. I think it fits you very well. Pickachu is a little happy fella with a big heart. That suits you perfectly, actually.’’ He tells you, smiling still like an idiot. You bet you have the same smile.

You notice his room is clean of clothing. By the desk stands a small tv, with a clear Nintendo switch docked in. You cautiously walk over, eying the switch without touching it. ‘’Yep. That is my pride and joy.’’ Aemond confirms, following you like a shadow.

You notice a big purple controller on the desk. When you accidentally bump against the desk, the controller lights up, showing you beautiful neon lights in rainbow colors. ‘’Wow. Cool controller.’’ You gently pick it up. You feel a thick almost rubber coating on the controls, and despite your hands being much smaller than Aemond’s, the controller fits perfectly.

‘’Feels funny…’’

Aemond does not say much, but you know he wants you to put it back. So you do. ‘’Uhm, yeah.’’ He comments, blushing. ‘’Uhm, purple was all there was left.’’

‘’O. I saw they have cool Zelda ones.’’ You tell him.

He looks away. ‘’They’re..expensive.’’

‘’O, right. Sorry.’’ You continue your tour. Aemond turns his controller off, and you notice some walls are there that weren’t there before. You notice a small box with a figurine sitting on a shelf by his bed, you didn’t notice before somehow. Likely too busy staring at Aemond’s wet silky hair, and his deep sad eye….

‘’Oh my gosh,’’ you mutter delightedly. ‘’You have Funko!’’ It is true. There are at least ten boxes with famous characters sitting on his shelf. You walk over, inspecting them closer, but without touching them.

Aemond rubs his neck, a bit blushing. ‘’You dig?’’

You nod, enthusiastically. ‘’Absolutely. My stepfather and I don't agree on a lot of things, But we agree that Funko’s are worth investing in. And just look how cute they are!’’ You notice a funko of GhostFace, the killer of scream, a funko of Squirtle (of course) and likely more of fantasy books and series you never truly got into.

Aemond laughs, relieved. ‘’I’m glad you like them. I sometimes worry people might find them stupid.’’ You stop glancing at his Funkos, looking back at him.

‘’I would never find anything stupid. I know too well how hurtful it is when people think you are stupid.’’ You say. Aemond nods at your words, agreeing. He is busy with rubbing his neck muscles, a pained expression almost printed on his face.

‘’Aemond, are you OK?’’ You move a bit closer to where he is sitting on the bed.

He nods, rubbing his neck still. ‘’It’s just my muscles. So annoying.’’

You look around for a pillow, picking one up from the ground.

You put it on the bed for him. ‘’I like your dorm. It is calm here. I live in a sorority. Sometimes I can barely think.’’ You admit to him.

Aemond pushes the pillow behind his back, nodding to you as if to say that you can continue your rant. ‘’You know your secret is safe with me?’’ He asks, confirming your gut. ‘’I made the mistake of telling Daemon something, and he turned it against me. I will keep it a secret.’’ He promises.

‘’What happened at the pool?’’ You ask eventually.

Aemond recalls it all too well. ‘’Well, Jace came over. He told me to get the fuck out, that you were tongue deep wrapped around a guy’s cock? Laenor or something?’’ He looks at you, giving you the chance to deny it.

You open your mind.

Aemond interrupts however. ‘’However, I know Laenor is gay. He once paid me to do an essay for him for History and he had company over when I was handing it in.’’ You don’t notice any scoffing or mocking or ill jokes.

‘’Aemond Targaryen, did you help someone cheat?’’ You tease, grinning. You like that he has a darker hidden side. He only raises his brows, slightly blushing and avoiding your eyes, biting on his under lip. Gods, that’s so hot.

He nods. ‘’It was justified. I needed money to buy a controller.’’ And controllers are expensive.

He picks the story back up where he left it. ‘’Daemon came over, told me that playtime was over. I tried to walk away, I did. He and his friends cornered me and Daemon threw me in the pool, bag and all.’’ Playtime is over? What does that mean?

‘’I tried to get out, but Daemon was faster. He grabbed me by the skull and kept my head down underwater. I am not a good swimmer. I tried kicking, resurfacing and even biting him, but he was stronger. I really thought he’d kill me.’’ You listen, imagining Aemond dead at the bottom of a pool. You don’t like that idea.

Aemond sighs, covering his face with both his hands. ‘’Oh, now I need to tell you, don’t I?’’ He sighs. ‘’The truth is: The controller is not expensive. I needed to get this one, because it has ergonomic grips.’’ So that is what you felt. ‘’I need special controllers. I have special pencils too. Just stabilos but, still.’’

It clicks.

‘’You have something with your muscles, don’t you?’’ You recall the way he wrote down the sums in your notebook, his handwriting beautiful but the way he held onto that pencil…

Aemond nods. ‘’Yeah. I’ve got Hypermobility, basically. It moves my joints much further-’’ To prove his point, he moves his thumb, now bent in an unnatural position. At first you are shocked by the ease and how quick he could do that. Then, you become curious.

‘’So, is that why you can’t swim?’’

‘’Ouch.’’ Yet he keeps smiling, likely happy to tell someone, anyone about this. ‘’No, I can swim. Just not that long, and not that fast. My muscles tire faster than usual but if I just exercise regularly, it should not be an issue.’’ He wrinkles his nose, grinning as if telling you what he thinks of that. ‘’I should swim more, but I haven't had the chance yet with classes and stuff.’’

You sit there in silence. There have been countless days you cried because you always assumed you were the only one at college who had these things. Things like your math-soup. Yet here is someone else, who too, is struggling in their own way. In a way it is disgusting to think about it, but it makes you feel less alone. It makes you feel something you haven’t felt ever before. It makes you feel ….

Good enough.

Capable.

Hopeful for the future.

Aemond switches his thumb back in its regular position, and you wonder if the long fingers are part of the condition he has. It likely is, as Aemond’s fingers are really tall. ‘’Now you know something about me too.’’ Aemond says. ‘’Although, I would appreciate you keeping this a secret.’’ He adds. ‘’I don’t want pity or special treatment. I’m sure you can relate to that.’’ Yeah, you do.

‘’Or worse, people telling me what I can and can’t do. Just because I have a condition, a disability, so to speak, does not mean that I’m helpless or something.’’ He rambles on. You nod.

You see the final shelf above the closet of Aemond’s room. You take note of a few plushies, mostly squirtle but another one takes your interest. It is a adorable devil like creature with big ears and a wooden stick in its hand.

‘’Who’s that?’’ You ask him, pointing to the red little fella. Aemond follows your finger, looking at the plush. He breaks into a grin, quickly rushing over to the plush, picking it up so you may see it up close.

‘’That’s from Zelda.’’ He begins to tell, excited to share this with you.

‘’That’s Link?’’

He looks a little different than on the box art you’ve seen. Link is usually a humanoid guy with blonde hair. Not a red devil creature with a smile so big you’d assume it learned when the world will end.

‘’No, that’s a Bokoblin’’ Aemond gently corrects you. ‘’He’s like the goomba of the game. They attack Link.’’ Aemond rambles off to tell you about Zelda, where you would encounter the creatures, and how they prefer meat, but accept fruit as well, almost as humans. He also shows you different patterns of bokoblins, and depending on the color, the level of difficulty to defeat them changes.

‘’So what do you do once you got them all beaten?’’ You ask.

He breaks into a grin. ‘’Oh, that’s the wonderful thing about this game. Once in a few days, there is a Blood Moon. All enemies you killed respawn. The bad guy resurrects them. The souls find their bodies, once more.’’ He shows you a video he made on his switch.

From the very first time you saw that moon rise up on where Aemond’s Link was standing, slowly covering the world in the red, threatening life and hearing the tense music play, and just Aemond being next to you on his bed, unaware of you holding his hand, you were done for. The bokoblin looks at you from where Aemond put him on the desk. A temporary spot, you are certain.

‘’Hey, uhm Aemond?’’ You ask, breaking his concentration as he searches for more videos to show you. He looks up, and you are confronted once again with his elf-like face.

‘’Remember when you said that I would like Zelda?’’ You ask.

He nods. You nod to his switch. You are nervous but shoot your shot.

‘’If you want, can we perhaps play it? If you are near me, I can ask whatever questions I’ve got without feeling stupid.’’ Aemond perks up at that, nearly causing his head to bump at your own.

‘’No one knows everything on their first play through. You are not stupid. This game came out in 2017, I picked it up years later for my birthday, and I still discover stuff years later.’’ He says. You nod, still awaiting his no or yes.

‘’Of course, I want to play Zelda with you.’’

Aemond and you nestle up on the bed, forgetting all about the world outside his dorm. He takes the controller from the desk, handing it to you. He creates a special profile on his switch for you, although you protest at first. He has however 3 empty slots so he claims he does not mind. After your profile has been made, he opens Zelda for you. Then he just watches you, plays, discovers and lives.

—

You run around as Link in circles, not bothering to put the clothes on that you found earlier. You notice beautiful mushrooms near the cave, so you pick them. Aemond watches you play, an amused smile on his lips as you discover the truly wild and boundless experience of this game.

You notice an old man sitting near a fire. ‘’Talk to him. He is important.’’ Aemond says, without spoiling too much. You have Link run over, still wearing just his underwear. In enthusiasm, you double click, but by doing so, you steal a cooked apple in front of the man, likely the owner.

‘’Hey, that’s my apple! This won’t stand!’’ The man says.

’Oh fuck, will he hate me now?’’ You ask Aemond. Aemond laughs, but not at you. He just seems to enjoy being with you.

He shakes his head and moves a little closer to you. ‘’Nah. He can’t hate you. You’re kinda perfect.’’ You blush as he moves a little closer, kissing your cheeks.

—-

Soon after that encounter you finally see a bokoblin wander around. Well, it kind of came jumping out of a bush and tried to kill you, but you do not mind.

You rush at them. ‘’Hug time!’’ You declare. In your hand is a stick. You don’t expect to actually hug the creature, but to hit them. That is actually a lot more difficult than it appears, as the creature jumps out of the way, attacking you back.

Eventually you are defeated and turn to Aemond for help, who gives you a few tips.

Together you slay the monster.

And take his horns, for some reason.

—----

It is late now, almost one in the morning. It is sunday today and thank the gods for it.

You and Aemond are still up, bottles of soda and pringle cans opened up around you, as your eyes are glued to the screen. You and Aemond have just met Impa, and you are tired, but you can’t seem to stop playing. A yiga clan member ambushes you, and despite your pathetic little squeak of surprise, you manage to defeat it. Alone.

Eventually you fall asleep, in Aemond’s room, his body close to yours. The controller remains on the bed, between an empty bowl of pringles and Aemond’s bokoblin plushie. You hear Aemond’s gentle snore and just close your eyes and welcome the sound of nothing.

Just Sweet nothing.

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