#Aemond fucking got me and I'm obsessed

[rere-the-writer]

Hello I'm back. I want to say thank you for the well wishes. I celebrated my birthday yesterday and flet good enough to get back at it. I'll be getting a few requests done and once again thanks for the well wishes and understanding.

[flowerandblood]

The Loved One (2/2)

[ modern • Aemond x Alys!sister • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, oral sex, smut, angst, swearing, toxic behaviour and relations, manipulation, therapy ]

[ description: After the events of that night, Alys' sister tries to move on from what happened, proud that she didn't cause a tragedy. However, when it turns out that Alys' boyfriend has broken up with her the next day, her older sister becomes hysterical, and she wonders despairingly whether she was the reason of his decision. Lost, obsessive, distant, desperate Aemond. Anon request. ]

This is Part 2 of The Second One

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

My other works: Masterlist

_____

Even though weeks had passed since that bizarre night, she couldn't forget what had happened. It didn't help that the next day her older sister called their mother crying, saying that this shithead had dared to leave her, to walk away after all she had endured for him.

She stared with big eyes at the pancakes lying on the plate in front of her feeling the cold sweat on her neck and the rapid pounding of her heart, listening to her mother's puzzled questions trying to calm her down, saying in a trembling voice that maybe it would be better this way, that after all they were still fighting.

Alys seemed to have forgotten everything that happened between them and what he had said to her the day before, she felt tears under her eyelids hearing her sobbing, her helpless confession that she loved him and didn't want to live without him.

She felt his hand between her thighs, his tongue deep in her throat.

She was ashamed that she had barely held back, that she had refused him with difficulty, that some part of her wanted him to stay.

To fuck her.

She swallowed loudly, feeling herself shudder at the memory of the piece of paper he had slipped under her door and what was written on it.

I wish I had met you before her.

She felt a kind of discomfort at the thought of being possessed by some kind of terror and satisfaction, because she was bonded with him by a secret that no one knew about but them.

A moment later, however, she recalled how awful things he had said about Alys, how objectively he had treated her, and that he would have done exactly the same with her if she had not regained her sobriety of mind in time.

She has big tits and a big ass.

She sucks cock well.

She shook her head, feeling that it made her sick to her stomach at the thought, and got up from the table, unable and unwilling to listen to it, recognising that her sister was right.

They were made for each other.

To her despair, Alys came to their house again later that day, but paying no attention to her, directing her despair and pain towards their mother, telling her that he wasn't taking her calls, that he had blocked her number, that he had simply texted her briefly and that was it.

"How could he do this, so many years, we've been through so much together and he breaks up with me over a fucking text message? Like a fucking kid, no conversation, no explanation?" She heard her mumbling coming from the living room and their mother's voice trying to reassure her, she stood in the dark hallway of their house, eavesdropping involuntarily, thinking with some kind of amusement that it was obvious he had ended it that way.

She shuddered when she heard her name and the fact that her sister had stood up, she ran quickly upstairs, fearing that the subject of their argument and what she had accused him of would now cause her to lash out at her.

True to her intuition, Alys knocked on the door to her room after a while, her mother tried to calm her down but she interrupted her saying that she just wanted to talk, that it was possible she knew of something more.

They stepped inside, her older sister grunting as she tried to quiet herself down, wiping her smudged make-up with her fingers, her face red from tears.

"I'm sorry for his inappropriate behaviour yesterday, he kept staring at you, too sure to get me off balance. Did he bother you after I left?" She asked, putting her hands in front of her, as if this question was a formality for her.

Something in the way she said it, in her conviction that it all revolved around her, that she was asking it not because she was worried about her but because she wanted to prove something to herself made any sympathy and remorse she had felt a moment before disappear.

She told me about you. What an ugly duckling you are. That you don’t know how to dress well, don’t know how to accentuate your figure and your assets. That you hide yourself in big sweatshirts and sit with your nose in books instead of really living and that there’s nothing to talk to you about because you can’t converse about anything interesting.

She recognised that she had acted appropriately, she had cut whatever was going on in time and told him to leave, so she didn't feel the need to admit anything.

"He wanted to talk to me about Gombrowicz, presumably so that I would repeat it to you later and to arouse your jealousy. I told him to leave and that's what he did." She replied softly so that her words were not a complete lie, her sister pressed her lips together, clearly displeased by her statement, her nostrils quivering in uncertainty and rage.

"Is that all? He didn't want anything else?" She asked coolly, and she raised her eyebrows and laughed dryly, recognising that for some reason all this amused her, the thought that her little sister about whom she had said such things might have taken away something that belonged to her.

She had no such intention.

Take him, she thought.

You're both sick.

"Me? Please. I told him clearly not to involve me in your affairs and use me against you." She said indifferently, she noticed out of the corner of her eye that her sister had turned purple, she swallowed loudly as if she was afraid of what she was about to hear.

"What did he say to you?" She asked in a trembling voice forcing herself to be calm, from which she felt a thrill of satisfaction.

"A lot of things. For example, what you say about me. What a caring, good sister you are. How much you worry about me, with what tenderness you think of me." She replied while playing with the pencil lying on her desk, not even looking at her, feeling the awkward silence that had fallen around them.

"I…after all, you know that I would never say anything in bad faith. I get upset with you sometimes, like any sister, I don't understand you, it's true, but I love you, you know that. God, that fucking liar and manipulator!" She growled helplessly, fiddling with her necklace between her fingers in a nervous gesture, looking pleadingly at their mother as if hoping for her support in the matter.

"If he's a liar and a manipulator, why do you want to be with him?" She asked tiredly and impatiently, no longer feeling anything but grief and disapproval.

"That's how we are, both of us…like fire, we argue and come back, it's always been that way." She muttered, and she swallowed hard, thinking with relief that the fact that she had refused him was the wisest decision of her life.

"Do what you want, don't get me involved. Leave." She said dryly, taking a book from her shelf, Trans-Atlantyk by Witold Gombrowicz.

Alys left her room, clearly furious that the conversation hadn't gone according to her plan, that she couldn't go on playing the victim, the one innocent and perpetually abused.

She thought she wanted nothing to do with them.

A few weeks passed and she slowly began to forget about the situation even though Alys couldn't get over it, she knew she was now on some sleeping pills, immersed in utter despair.

She figured that sooner or later she would find someone else, she just prayed that he wouldn't change his mind and come back to her, because she didn't know how she would bear the sight of him in her house.

However, something happened that she had not expected at all.

One evening she received a message from an unknown number.

She opened it and frowned after she read its contents.

She felt her heart start pounding like crazy, a cold sweat on the back of her neck, she covered her mouth with her hand, terrified, wondering where he had got her number, what was she supposed to do now.

Block it and delete it? Threaten him with telling Alys and her mother everything?

She was afraid of what he was capable of, that he might start talking about the fact that she had let him stay with her after all, that something more than a kiss had happened.

She swallowed loudly as she looked at her screen and slowly typed out a reply on her phone's keypad.

She sent it, clenching her eyes, thinking with despair that her answer was too aggressive, that it would surely enrage him, that she would regret all that had happened, her stupid moment of weakness.

She shuddered when, a moment later, her display lit up again and she opened the message from him with her heart beating fast.

She looked at what he'd written without knowing for herself what she felt, her throat squeezed so tightly that she had trouble breathing. She jumped when the messages began to appear one after another.

She read everything he wrote with an expression of disbelief, completely shocked by this sudden externalisation. She felt her heart squeeze, her body trembling in horror at the fact that he was trying to play with her again, unwittingly giving her what she wanted.

She closed her eyes, trying to calm herself, angry at herself for letting him do this to her, telling her what she wanted to hear, putting himself in the role of a disappointed and disillusioned man who needed comforting.

He knew she longed to be appreciated, to be important to someone, to be the only one, to do something her sister had failed to do.

To fix him.

He was giving her himself on a plate, distraught, seeking comfort and refuge, an opportunity for her to prove herself, to show to herself that she was better, more tender, smarter than her sister.

She felt tears of helplessness and humiliation gathering at the corners of her eyes, and swallowed loudly, typing out a message on her phone.

She sent the message and breathed out loud, covering her face with her hands, wondering in pain why he was doing this to her, why he was being so cruel.

Did he want to prove something to himself, to stab her sister in the back with her help?

She shuddered when she heard her phone vibrate and unlocked it quickly, her lips dry with stress.

She didn't know why she burst into sobs after reading his message, why she felt so sad, embittered and humiliated.

I wish I had met you before her.

Why was he doing this to her?

Why was he messing with her head?

For some reason, because of everything she had read, she felt even worse, the pain that ripped through her heart seemed unbearable.

Some part of her wanted to believe him.

She had trouble sleeping, going back to what he had written again and again, once wanting to block him, then immediately deciding that there was no need, that he had clearly given her peace.

She knew she should forget about him, but she couldn't.

Therefore, she tried to concentrate on her studies, her classes filling her entire days, she even took extra lessons, wanting to be away from home in the evenings as well.

Walking through the large, neo-Gothic hall, she came across a poster hanging on the notice board, announcing open lectures taking place every week on Thursday at 7pm, on the works of Orwell, Kafka, Dostoyevsky and Gombrowicz, entitled 'The Fall of the World'.

She thought the whole thing sounded extremely tempting, and as she loved all these writers, she decided to attend at least once.

The lecture was held in a library that anyone could enter, to make things easier for outside listeners, when she went inside most of the seats at the tables were already taken.

She stopped in mid-step, wanting to back away, but it was too late; the tall, well-built figure of a blond-haired man sitting in one of the chairs turned towards her involuntarily, his gaze expressing shock.

"Miss Rivers, welcome! Please, take a seat." Professor Moore, the same one who had lectured to her year on twentieth-century world literature, spoke to her.

She nodded, horrified that it would be at least odd if she left now, so she sat down in one of the empty seats trying not to look at the sinister, inscrutable man sitting a few seats away.

She felt ashamed that some part of her was glad to see him, as if she hoped to meet him again.

"Orwell's Nineteen Eighty-Four is an extremely heavy read, filled with metaphors, and yet, the author foretold something in it, perfectly describing what communism led to, the fear of surveillance and propaganda, the feeling that everyone is an informer, that no one can be trusted, can be observed in a large part of contemporary Russian citizens. Cut off from non-state information sources, from certain parts of the internet, they live in the conviction that their country cares about them, that the security services are following them and spying on them for their own good. Some even firmly believe that this is for the best. Don't you think it's frightening that something Orwell predicted actually happened, on top of it earlier than he thought?" Asked her professor, she raised her hand, recognising that if she allowed herself to be drawn into the discussion, she would stop thinking about the man who sat a few chairs away.

He let her speak with a nod.

"Orwell wrote this book in 1945, already knowing what Nazism and Communism were. He did not understand how Western Europe could have agreed to recognise Stalin as one of the victors and lead, as a result, to the so-called Iron Curtain in later years. This book was his warning, his sense that we had crossed some line of dehumanisation after Auschwitz that had never happened before in the world." She said on one exhale, a second person, an older man also raised his hand.

"He may have known, but he also felt under his skin that it would not end with communism and Nazism. And he was right. The place of these groupings is being taken by others, just as threatening, also talking about the rights of the nation or the equality of all. We forget that Hitler and Lenin also originally floated on fine words." Said the man, several people nodded their heads in agreement. She shuddered when she heard another voice, familiar to her, speak up without permission, impatient.

"Orwell was not an idiot. If he had wanted to deal with the problem of the rise of political sects, he would have started with that, but he places the plot in the course of events when the state is completely subordinated to the apparatus of power. We hope for a happy ending, a complete victory, but Orwell recognises that there was no such thing after the Second World War. Nuremberg held Germany to account, but not Russia or Japan. Nowadays we don't even talk about their crimes, we delight in their culture and history forgetting whose side they were on, often committing far worse crimes than Hitler."

He said coldly, she was surprised by how accurate this observation was, she looked at him involuntarily, he was sitting with his profile to her, his jaw clenched, the fingers of his hand stretched out on the tabletop moving restlessly, playing with the pen that lay before him.

He glanced at her, as if to see how she would react to his words, to his voice, and momentarily dropped his gaze, as if embarrassed, caught off guard.

"Each of these three comments is exceptionally apt. The anxiety that Orwell arouses accompanies us in our daily lives right up to the present day, and somehow he has managed to create a vision of a universal totalitarian system that suits every one that has been mentioned. Let us now turn to the specific chapters…"

They passed the rest of the lecture discussing whether there really was any resistance movement at all, or whether it was just a contrived idea used to catch would-be rebels and break their will even before they could really stand up to anyone.

Somehow the conversation about the book had put her in a depressed, gloomy state; when the professor thanked them and said they were seeing each other next week she wasn't sure she'd come a second time.

Even more so if she was to see him during them.

They were open lectures and he had a right to be there, but she was already tired.

She heard his footsteps behind her and knew it was him when she felt his large hand grab her gently by her shoulder.

"Wait. I'm sorry. I really didn't know you were coming −"

"− I know. You have nothing to apologise for." She said softly, wanting to pull away from him, but he didn't let her go, even though she wasn't looking at him she could feel his burning gaze, his heat, his raspy breath on her cheek.

"− promise you'll come next week − that you won't give up because of me −" He said in a low voice, she felt embarrassment and a squeeze in her throat at the thought that she wasn't sure if he meant that he didn't want her to give up her interests because of him, or that he was hoping to see her again.

"− I don't know yet −" She replied in a shaky, tired voice, feeling that her heart was pounding like crazy, for some reason she felt tears burning under her eyelids, at the same time she wanted him to give her peace and not to do it, something in his darkness, in his unpredictability attracted her.

She thought with despair that perhaps it was the same thing that kept Alys from forgetting him.

He grunted and let her go, clearly sensing that he had held her for too long, an awkward silence full of tension fell between them.

"I'm not going to lie. I was hoping to see you here." He murmured lowly, lowering his gaze, slipping his hands into the pockets of his trousers, the black turtleneck he wore perfectly framing his well-built, broad chest.

She pressed her lips together at his words, adjusting the straps of her backpack hanging over her shoulders in an involuntary, nervous gesture, unsure what she was supposed to respond to such a confession, feeling heat in her lower abdomen at the thought that for some reason he didn't want to forget her.

"Why are you doing this? What else do you want from me?" She asked embittered, looking up at him at last, he lifted his gaze to her, fear, desperation and shame in his eyes.

He swallowed loudly, as if he didn't know what he should answer, looking at her in silence.

"I missed you." He muttered quietly, embarrassed like a small child, she shook her head, her eyebrows arched in pain and disbelief.

"What?"

"I missed you. The way I felt back then."

"For God's sake, we only spoke once, what do you miss? The adrenaline that was bubbling inside you at the thought that maybe I'd be naive enough to let you fuck me? I let you into my room, into my life only for you to humiliate me. You are a cruel man."

She mumbled out while bursting into a loud, uncontrollable sob, covering her face with her hand, she heard in disbelief that his reaction to her words was identical, he embraced her and pulled her close, hugging her to his chest and although she wanted to push him away, she couldn't.

"− I didn't mean to hurt you − I swear I really just wanted to talk, I couldn't sleep, I was angry − what happened next −" He mumbled out, his voice stuck in his throat, he drew in a sudden, shaky breath of air, swallowing loudly.

"− I just − I don't know, I have no idea what came over me, I never cheated on her, I swear − I swear −" He babbled, both of them crying loudly, her hands rose higher and tightened on his back, she felt both pain and relief at the thought that he was as embarrassed and heartbroken as she was.

"− can we start again? − as if we had never met? −" He asked pleadingly and she, not knowing why, nodded, thinking she wanted to leave it all far, far behind.

Although they both calmed down after a moment, they still lingered in each other's embrace, a pleasant shiver running down her spine as she felt his large hand stroking her hair and back with a calm gesture full of care, her face snuggled into his warm chest, her nostrils filled with his masculine scent.

She shuddered and swallowed loudly as his lips placed a drawn-out, hot kiss on the top of her head, her breath caught in her throat when she felt something pulsate hard in his trousers.

They pulled away from each other, wiping their faces, both pretending nothing had happened, he breathed out loud, combing his hair in a light, careless gesture, his cheeks red with emotion.

"− see you −" He muttered, and although she knew she shouldn't, she showed up for the next lecture.

And then the next and the next.

Each time he sat down next to her, close, too close, his legs splayed comfortably making his knee pressed against hers, but she didn't move away, herself getting something out of the situation that she couldn't name.

Her sister had told her mother on the phone that she had moved on, that she wasn't going to trouble herself with this bastard, told her about their endless arguments, about how he would raise his voice and throw things, leave in the middle of a conversation slamming the door, about how he always acted like a spoilt little child when he didn't get what he wanted.

She knew that she was leaving out of these arguments what she herself had said and done in an obvious attempt to create a narrative of his one-sided aggression, however, despite being malicious and ironic, she was struck by how completely different his view of the whole thing was.

Sometimes the two of them would buy warm tea from the vending machine and spend spring evenings in the university park sitting on the grass on his leather jacket, just talking, since they had both cried and cuddled he had not tried to touch her or otherwise invade her personal space.

"My family has always been involved in the modeling industry. Big money, big banquets, fashion shows in Paris and Venice. I always despised it, but what could be done? My father expected me and my siblings to take over his inheritance, on top of which his daughter from his first marriage was fighting for a bigger share than she was originally entitled to. It was some kind of nightmare." He muttered, taking a sip of the hot liquid from a small cardboard cup, looking somewhere ahead with a blank stare, the sun was setting behind the beautiful neo-Gothic red brick buildings.

"To be honest, it never interested me. I was into art, but not this half-world. When I met your sister I liked the fact that she was going after what she wanted. Of course, she wasn't the first chick to want to go to bed with me for the obvious benefits, but her impudence was downright endearing in a way. Only later did I realise that it was impudence mixed with calculating. But we were both too proud to let go, to be the weak link."

He sighed and shrugged his shoulders, finally looking at her with the same tired, resigned eyes she had seen for weeks, she couldn't tell if what he was saying and showing her was the truth or just his game.

But who would want to pretend for so long?

He lowered his gaze, scratching his cheek with his thumb, seeing in her eyes that she remained wary of him, that she did not trust him.

She herself didn't know why she had allowed him to spend time together, only to find with sadness that some part of her wanted to understand him.

"I'm afraid you won't be able to undo what's happened inside your head without the help of a professional." She said softly, looking down at the cup she held between her hands on her thighs, she heard him swallow hard, she knew this topic was not comfortable for him.

"Will you come with me? If I make an appointment." He muttered in a low, hoarse voice, she looked at him in disbelief feeling a tightness in her throat, once again surprised by his behaviour and his words.

"If you really do it, I'll go with you." She said quietly, feeling a sense of discomfort, knowing she shouldn't do it, on the other hand realising that her mother had made sure Alys visited the psychiatrist at least a few times, and he needed it just as badly.

She did not believe that he would do so, recognising that this was part of his plan to soften her up.

Nevertheless, after a few days she received a message from him with the address of the doctor's office and the time of the appointment.

She turned up at the place indicated, lying to her mother that she had gone to the University Library, the office of the man he had mentioned was in fact in the suburbs, and next to the door to the building was a nameplate with his profession.

A few minutes before the time he pulled up in a big, shiny black SUV, dressed in a black tight T-shirt tucked into black trousers, a watch on his wrist, when he got out he looked stressed and unhappy, she knew he really didn't want to do that.

He lit a quick cigarette even though he only had a few minutes left before his visit and she thought he would cowardly tell her that he didn't feel like it after all, that he didn't have to do it, that he was already feeling better.

"Is it really necessary? Externalising myself to some fucking asshole for my money?" He asked coldly, taking a drag on his cigarette with a quiet hiss, she looked at him feeling a squeeze in her chest, tears of regret under her eyelids at the thought that she had spent so much of her time and effort on him only to realise that he was exactly as she had imagined him to be.

Seeing the look on her face he swallowed loudly and lowered his gaze to his feet, wiping his forehead with the back of the hand in which he held the cigarette in a nervous gesture, she had the impression that his body was quivering.

"− I'm sorry − thank you, little one − if it wasn't for you I wouldn't have come here at all −" He muttered low, taking a quick drag a few times, extinguishing the remnants of his cigarette on a bin standing nearby, letting the smoke out loudly through his nose.

He startled her when he stepped inside, so she moved behind him, both of them heading up the steps past the signs straight into the cabinet. She watched as he sighed heavily and knocked, a middle-aged man who could have been their father opened the door for him after a moment.

"This is my friend I mentioned. I want her to be there when we talk." He said lowly, and she froze, looking at his back in disbelief as he stepped inside, convinced that he just wanted her to wait for him outside.

She lowered her gaze, horrified at the thought that he would be telling him his problems, his most intimate secrets in front of her, but she wasn't sure she could refuse when he had already taken such a big step forward.

The doctor smiled at her and, with a gesture of his hand, encouraged her to go inside, so she did, taking a seat on the other side of the sofa, the doctor sat opposite them.

"Please tell me what brings you to me."

He began, she stared at a flower in a pot standing at the other end of the office, feeling like an intruder, as if she was eavesdropping on someone's conversation and had no idea what she should do with herself.

"I tend to be verbally aggressive. I tend to get involved in toxic relationships with other toxic people and I'm like that myself."

She heard his low voice and swallowed loudly, somehow appreciating his self-criticism, the fact that he saw the problem holistically.

"Let's start with the first sentence. What do you think 'verbal aggression' means?"

"I know what to say to hurt someone. I know it, I do it on purpose and I get satisfaction from it."

"Please say something more about this feeling of satisfaction."

He remained silent for a moment, she heard him shrug his shoulders, impatient.

"The feeling of power."

"What do you feel after that, when the satisfaction passes?"

"Emptiness."

She looked at him uncertainly, fiddling nervously with the fabric of the dress covering her thighs, feeling that her whole body was tense, a cold sweat on her back.

"A lot of people get addicted to adrenaline. Also from arguments, aggression or violent sex. The lack of affection and security is filled with temporary emotions, and their absence causes similar symptoms to alcohol rehab. When you regain control you see yourself and the world as it is."

Said the doctor, she saw him just nod at his words, swallowing hard, looking at his hands, she saw with horror that he was picking at the cuticles around his nails creating tiny wounds.

He remained silent.

"You mentioned that you consider yourself a toxic person and get into a relationship with such people."

"Yes."

"Why do you judge yourself that way?"

The man asked, and he licked his lips in a quick impatient gesture.

"Because I am cruel to other people. Harsh and vicious."

"Please elaborate on that thought."

For the next half hour he talked about examples of his behaviour, how he despised models making a career out of bed, how deep down he loathed her sister and himself, the business he was forced to be stuck in, full of injustice and discrimination.

She listened to it feeling resentful towards him for deceiving her sister for so long, on the other hand hearing for the first time how Alys addressed him, what the beginning of their relationship was like.

"When I gave her what she wanted she was the sweetest, most submissive woman I knew. But if I didn't, she would turn into a screaming, spiteful creature telling me I was a cunt and a little child, so I didn't leave her hanging. What did she expect, that she would call me that and I wouldn't answer anything? That I didn't know she had nothing more to offer me than her body? What pissed me off about her wasn't that she lacked knowledge, it was that there was no curiosity about the world in her, that she didn't want to expand it, to understand more. Just fucking, partying and posing."

"But you still lasted in that relationship because, from what I understand, you were so comfortable. What changed?" The doctor asked, and she flinched as he glanced at her quickly, immediately looking away, swallowing loudly, terrified of what was about to leave his mouth.

"I think that I'm in love with someone."

She drew in air loudly, feeling tears under her eyelids, her whole body breathless, she felt the heat in her lower abdomen, that embarrassing, sticky wetness.

She knew she shouldn't, but when he suggested after the visit that she go to his place, she agreed.

There was a kind of despair in the way he pressed her against the wall with a sudden motion as soon as the door closed behind them, the way his tongue forced its way between her lips with his groan of relief, the way, with quick and sure movements, his hands slid the material of her underwear off her, which she threw off her legs with an impatient flick.

She knew she shouldn't, but she felt nothing but delight as he knelt in front of her looking at her with wide eyes, he lifted the material of her dress over her thighs, throwing her hip over his shoulder, she tilted her head back with a soft moan as his lips began to brush and kiss her weeping folds.

"− we can't −" She muttered, but she knew she'd only said it to feel a little less regret that it was so pleasurable, that her fingers clenched on his short hair as he cupped her clit between his lips and began sucking on it, teasing her opening again and again with the tip of his tongue.

"− fuck − fuck −" She whimpered girlishly, moving her hips involuntarily in rhythm with his strokes, a loud murmur of delight erupting from his throat at how much she was leaking, the sound of it running in vibration through her entire body.

"− I could spend all day like this − would you like it? −" He gasped between teasing motions of his tongue pushing its way between her sticky muscles, hot with arousal, a moan bordering on a cry broke from her throat as he began to tease the spot hidden inside her from which his whole corridor seemed blurred to her.

"− stop −" She mumbled helplessly, panting loudly along with him, feeling his words deep inside her, her walls began to clench around nothing, he only grunted at her plea, stopping abruptly, rising from his knees, she settled again on both feet, feeling that her legs were trembling all over.

"− you can leave now, if you want − I won't stop you −" He breathed out, with a quick, sure movement of his fingers undoing the buckle from the belt of his trousers, she looked at him with her eyes wide open, feeling in her mind only that wonderful heat between her thighs.

"− be gentle − be gentle and don't mock me −" She muttered, and he grabbed her by her hair and pulled her close, their lips pressed together in an aggressive, sticky, loud kiss.

She squealed quietly as he lifted her easily, in an involuntary reflex she threw her arms around his neck, enclosing his waist between her legs, his mouth smelling of her wetness not pulling away for a moment as his one hand dealt with the material of his trousers and boxers.

The tips of his fingers ran over her cheek, his forehead pressed against hers as she felt the fat head of his cock push in between her folds, they both moaned low, surprised, his fingers digging into the soft skin of her thigh, forcing her to fit him deeper inside her.

"− fuck −" She whimpered, spreading her thighs wider, he looked down at her with eyes black with desire, his lips parted in a pathetic groan as her leaking walls let him all the way in.

"− god, little one − oh fuck −" He mumbled out with involuntary movements of his hips thrusting into her as deeply as possible, they both moaned into each other's mouths as his lips pressed against hers again, her hands ran over his hair and down the nape of his neck, answered by his loud murmur of pleasure.

"− I've waited so long for this − you were already wet for me then, weren't you? − you wanted it inside you −" He breathed out, speeding up, each stroke of his swollen cock teasing again and again the same spot he had squeezed with his tongue earlier, only a helpless moan of pleasure escaping from her chest, their bodies slapping against each other with a loud click of her moisture.

"− please − please, please, please −" She babbled between licks of their tongues and lips, his large hands clamped down on her ass, accelerating, the stabs of his hips opening her wide on his length again and again, her walls pulsing against him, sucking him inside.

"− oh, yes, that's it − gonna cum, baby? − gonna cum for me? −" He cooed rooting into her with his cock thick with lust, she nodded her head clenching her fingers in his hair, panting hard, and she leaned back with a sweet moan as her body shook with convulsions, her walls began to throb and clench against him in pleasure.

"− god, yes − little one − where −" He muttered, and she only managed to whimper for him to come inside her, thanking God for the existence of the pills, she heard his low groan of relief and pleasure, a few messy, greedy thrusts of his hips were enough to make him spill inside her, their bodies twitching and quivering, shocked at how intense this close-up was.

For a long moment they both merely panted and kissed lazily, his hands running over the bare, hot skin of her buttocks, her fingers stroking his hair with his quiet murmur of pleasure.

"− so good − so kind − so pretty −" He hummed between their kisses, stroking the soft skin of her cheek with his thumb, shame overwhelmed her at the thought that she felt butterflies in her stomach at his words.

She knew she shouldn't do this, but she let him take her once more on his bed, his thighs slapping against her buttocks again and again with each desperate thrust of his hips, their naked bodies entwined together in a tight embrace, sweaty and hot.

"− fuck − fuck −" He panted into her mouth between greedy, messy, loud kisses, his wonderful scent filling her entire lungs, her naked breasts pressed against his chest, her fingers digging into the bare skin of his back.

"− mghm − m close −" She mumbled out, her walls oversensitive after her earlier fulfilment, the tip of his swollen cock rubbing again and again the spot inside her from which she felt shivers and tickling, the heat in her lower abdomen unbearable.

"− come on, little one − give me one more − that's it, fuck! −" He gasped loudly and bit his lower lip, trying to stifle the low groan of pleasure that ripped from his throat as her fleshy muscles began to throb in orgasm, sucking him inside.

She tried to push him away, delicate and sore, quivering and writhing beneath him, but he accelerated, slamming into her for a moment more with sure, deep thrusts.

"− I know, baby, just a moment longer − shhh −" He mumbled out before he reached his peak inside her for the second time, a soft, loud sigh of relief and delight escaping his lips.

He collapsed on top of her, burying his face in her hair, panting heavily along with her, their skin sticky from sweat and exertion, their hands trailing blindly over their naked bodies, wanting to remember and take everything possible from this moment.

"− stay with me, little one − please, stay with me −" He whispered softly, his voice trembling with emotion, with the feeling that she was going to try again to escape him, what he wanted and what it all meant.

She swallowed quietly and combed her fingers through his hair, looking up at the ceiling with slightly parted lips, breathing loudly, her body at once relaxed from another fulfilment and tense, filled with uncertainty and fear.

He could feel her hesitation, when he heard no response from her he lifted himself slowly on his arms, wanting to look at her face.

"− what I told that doctor is true − I want to change − want to be a person worth loving − I know I screwed up then −" He whispered, stroking her cheek with his large hand, she looked away, feeling her own body tremble, his thumb ran over her soft skin.

"− do you know what the real tragedy of this situation is? − that some part of me reciprocates your feelings − but I don't know how I could ever really trust you −" She whispered in a calm, low tone, feeling a lone tear of regret flow from the corner of her eye onto the pillow under her head smelling of his perfume, the adrenaline and endorphin stopped bubbling through her body, leaving only an emptiness inside her.

She felt him looking at her, completely unsure of what to say, his soft manhood still deep inside her.

He slipped out of her gently after a moment, standing up without a word, grabbing his trousers which were lying on the floor, standing with his back to her, putting them on, not even giving her a single glance.

She stood up too, clenching her lips so tightly that she felt like they were purple, her throat twitching all over in a sob that she didn't let escape, but she couldn't hold back the tears of horror, shame and disappointment that flooded her face.

She didn't look at him when she left, when she ran down the stairs and simply left the building, moving in front of her, trying to think soberly where she was and what bus stop she should go to in order to get home.

She heard a vibration in her backpack after a while, her phone ringing and ringing, but she didn't even take it out, not knowing what else they were going to say to each other.

It was obvious that he had never respected or taken her sister seriously, and while it was obvious that she wanted him, she couldn't believe that the depth of his feelings were actually that great.

She felt that he had talked himself into this feeling, mythologised it and also her character, creating in his mind a tragic story of two lovers who had always been destined for each other, to further distance himself in his mind and mock her sister's personality.

She arrived home pale but refrained from crying in front of her parents, she explained that she felt sick and would go to bed early.

However, not half an hour passed and she heard the screech of tyres on her driveway, she got up to the window and took a few steps backwards, startled to recognise his car, her heart was pounding like mad, her throat squeezed so tight with fear that she felt like she was going to vomit.

Will he tell them everything? Will he humiliate her in front of her parents, entertain himself at her expense now? Will he take revenge?

She ran quickly downstairs hearing raised voices, his, her father's and her mother's, her mother clearly outraged at the sight of him and his insolence.

"How dare you show up here after all this? Have you no shame?"

"Did your younger daughter get home safely?"

"It is none of your business, young man, you are to leave our house immediately!"

Said her mother, enraged and heartbroken, her father threatened to call the police on him, but he lifted his gaze hearing her footsteps and spotted her on the half-floor standing on the stairs.

Something changed in his gaze, she saw that he swallowed hard, in his eyes pain, fatigue, regret and something else from which she ran out of breath.

"Thank you. I've already found out what I wanted." He said lowly, turning and simply walking away, closing the door behind him, her parents looked at her in disbelief, they heard the sound of the engine firing up.

"What did he mean? Why was he asking about you?" Asked her father, and she looked at them with her eyes wide open not knowing what to say.

Did he come just to check that she got home safely?

"He goes to therapy. He asked me to go with him. He didn't want to be there alone." She told only part of the truth with shame, having no strength to pretend any longer, her mother froze, looking quickly at her father and then back at her, her eyebrows arched in disbelief.

"After all, this man is unpredictable, look what he did to Alys. He's made her dependent on him, like a parasite he's put the idea in her mind that she won't be able to live without him."

"And she did the same thing to him."

"What?"

"Alys was doing the same thing to him. He was showing me messages from her, mum. Sent from her number. That's why I went with him." She mumbled out and burst into sobs again, covering her face with her hand, her pain and despair finding an escape at last.

Her mother seeing her condition moved towards her and hugged her, in her embrace some kind of understanding, her father looked up at her from below with his hands placed on his hips and sighed heavily, shaking his head.

"Alys can't know."

For the next few days neither he nor she made contact. Some part of her was grateful to him for not pressuring her, for letting her put it all together in her head.

She herself did not know what she felt.

On the one hand, caution prevailed in her in his presence, she had the feeling that she was still waiting for some blow from him, an unexpected hit that would break her and prove to herself that he had been playing with her all this time for his own entertainment.

But then she remembered their conversation in the university courtyard, what he had said at the psychiatrist's.

I think that I'm in love with someone.

She read their long exchanges about poets, writers, but also about their thoughts and their lives, trying to find any trace of a lie or manipulation in them, but was pained to find that, although it may have been due to a lack of distance, she did not find it.

She no longer knew what was truth and what was a lie.

The last extra classes of the semester were open lectures she was attending with him, she knew they would be discussing Trans-Atlantyk and she thought maybe that was a sign.

She reasoned that if he didn't turn up it would mean that he had given up, that he had been disappointed with her and got bored and that she could move on at last.

She had arrived earlier than usual, wanting to borrow some books from the library for the holidays, standing at one of the bookcases she spotted him from a distance sitting alone at a table, bent over a thick volume, even though it was still half an hour to class he was sitting in the same seat as always.

She felt the heat fill her body, her heart began to pound like crazy due to some incomprehensible joy at the sight of him.

She moved towards him with several tomes in her hands and sat down next to him, they did not greet each other, however, she felt his gaze on her, his warm breath on her skin.

She turned her face towards him and noticed that his healthy eye was all red, his lower lip trembling, as if he didn't believe she would come, that he would ever see her again.

Something in that sight, in the tear that ran down his cheek made her lay her head on his shoulder, snuggling her nose into his neck, she heard him draw in air greedily, his hand rose quickly and touched her cheek, his fingers twitching, stroking her soft skin with a gentle, tender motion.

She put her arm around his shoulder and stayed like that, feeling strangely calm and safe, she felt him place his cheek on the top of her head, she could hear his broken, rapid breathing, his lips placing a tender kiss on her hair once in a while.

She turned her face towards him, heard only his quiet, low sigh as their fleshy lips found each other in a sticky, hot, wet kiss, his large hand holding her face in place, not allowing her to move away.

She pulled away from him at last, stroking his well-defined jaw with her thumb, his gaze dark and hot, his lips swollen and red from their caress.

She returned to her earlier position without a word, sinking her face into the hollow of his neck, embracing his shoulder with her hands, he breathed quietly, sliding it out of her grasp, enveloping her waist with it, pulling her close so that she could hug his chest.

The tips of his fingers traveled down her back as he took the book that lay in front of him from the table top and placed it on his thighs, clearly wanting to simultaneously read on and cover up whatever was going on in his trousers.

They stayed like this until the class began when they finally pulled away from each other, his hand quickly finding hers under the table, stroking the top of it with his thumb.

Though doubts still filled her heart, for the first time in years she felt hope.

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @rwdkarla

[squirmhoney]

honestly just the idea of aegon being obsessed with reader is just insane. like he’s fully obsessed with her, he doesn’t want anyone else to have her, and she’s seemingly innocent so he wants to teach her how to do things and gets angry when other guys make a move on her. idk if this makes sense??

Warnings: Dark. Dub con. Pervy men. A lot of smut. Incest implied but not stated. Public sex. 18+ A/N: Ahh I'm loving obsessed Aegon and want to make him a bit softer. However, I hope you're okay I made it into more of a head canon/drabble and added a little bit of Aemond at the bottom because I miss him.

Aegon

Obsessed!Aegon who wakes up wrapped up in his sheets with you, bodies pressed so tightly together. This could have been such a sweet moment, the early light of the sun beating down on your skin, but Aegon’s perverse mind never allowed him a moment's peace. It’s what you woke to, Aegon kissing underneath one of his t-shirts you wore, positioned between your legs as he tried to wake you. You could feel his hard dick pushed up to your damp panties, rubbing slowly against you as he tried to get off. You whimper at the feel of him, mumbling his name to get his attention. As soon as he realised you were awake, his head is popping out of your t-shirt, asking if you wanted him to make you feel good. One nod and that man is grinding against you, making you both whimper and moan in bliss.

Obsessed!Aegon who comes down for breakfast a minute later than you, not wanting to draw attention to the both of you if you came down together. However, he can’t help but eye you up as he makes himself a coffee, wondering why you look so good. As soon as he sits next to you, he’s asking you these questions. Which leads you to reply with an “are you joking?” look as you raise your brows at him. But he’s insistent and all you can do is laugh pointing out your bed head, the baggy t-shirt of his and joggers that you are wearing. He still swears you look good and to prove that he places your hand over his boner, thrusting his hips up into it for a tiny bit of release. You quickly steal it away, ducking your head away as you try to hide your flushed face from the prying eyes around the table. 

 Obsessed!Aegon who literally feels like just touching you isn’t enough. He is the kind to be so obsessed he needs to be under your skin. Being buried inside those velvet walls of yours will just have to do. You’re literally trying to get ready, putting your makeup on at his desk with your little setup but he’s so damn needy. He’s literally got you on his lap, holding you a few inches above him as he fucks into you. You’re scolding him for his behaviour at first, telling him he needs to get his head out of the gutter. But then his cock is hitting that spot inside of you that has you biting down on your lip, hand falling onto one of his thighs as your nails dig in. It’s a few seconds later, when Aegon is kissing you, practically shoving his tongue down your throat to keep you quiet, that his mum knocks on the door, asking if he knows where you’ve ran off to. With his hand pressed against your lips, he’s saying he has no idea, drilling into you harshly. 

Obsessed!Aegon who admires how dressed up you got for your date with him even if it took longer than expected (because of how much of a horn dog he is). Who is cursing in his head though that you had to wear that sundress he loved so much, especially when it had the man at the ice cream stand eyeing you up so much. But he’s later thankful for it as he pushes you down into the grass behind some trees, kissing down your body as you try to push him away. He pouts up at you, with a darkened gaze as he asks, “you love me, don’t you?” That’s all he needs as you spread your legs, allowing him to hike that sundress up to your waist, wasting no time as he attaches his mouth to your soaked panties, only moving them to the side when he thinks your moans aren’t loud enough for him. 

Obsessed!Aegon who grins proudly as you stumble back to his car, making sure to pass the ice cream stand on the way. The man from before is now staring at you with wide eyes,  noticing your fucked out expression as you practically cling onto Aegon. He makes sure to park the car somewhere a bit more secluded, knowing he won’t make it back to the house in time to have you. Within seconds he has you bare in the back seats, legs pressed between the pair of you as he folds you in half. You whine at him afterwards, telling him he ruined your makeup and hair but he soothes your sadness with a featherlight kiss on your cheek, telling you that he likes you better just like this. 

Obsessed!Aegon who didn’t even realise that you had spent all day out together, not answering a single call from your parents. They’re waiting for you, being instantly alarmed by your appearance. You’ve ruined your dress with grass stains, there are leaves in your done up hair as well. Aegon is quick to joke about how you fell, because of how clumsy you are and they eventually believe him, even if they don’t want to. 

Obsessed!Aegon who waits impatiently for you to make your way to his bedroom. Honestly he is thinking about going to find you and dragging you here himself. But then you’re poking your head through his door, slipping in quietly in that matching set and silk robe he loved so much. You’ve moisturised as well, easily being able to glide his hand up your legs. He’s biting on his knuckles, trying to restrain himself from marking up every part of your body. The only thought that stops him is the idea of you bouncing on his cock, eager to teach you the new position as he strips you of your clothes. He guides you up and down, letting you take full control as he just lies back to watch your tits jiggle as you ride him. But he doesn’t last long, hands having to grope every part of your naked skin, mouth attaching to one of your nipples as he takes control, fucking into you. 

 Obsessed!Aegon who knows he puts you through a lot with his constant needs but does really care about you. He shows you that as he bathes you with affection under the steam of the shower. He doesn’t try to fuck you or get himself off in the process. Instead he rubs your back soothingly as he holds you in his arms, telling you how good you are to him, how he wouldn’t have you any other way. 

Aemond

Obsessed!Aemond who is slightly different in the way he treats you. Waking you up with his mouth attached to your folds, licking and drinking you so you wake up already moaning as your day begins. He wants you to know how much he cares for you, how much he desires you, pushing two fingers into you as he licks at your swollen clit. You looked best like this, strung out on noises of pleasure as you laid in his bed, completely forgetting where you are as you become louder. 

Obsessed!Aemond who swears he hasn’t got a super high sex drive but does find you incredibly divine in the morning. He can’t help but press a soft kiss to your cheeks as you eat your breakfast, not caring who sees. He also can’t help but deny how much he enjoys how you smother him in kisses when you’ve managed to get away from your family, returning the affection ten fold as you cuddle into him.

Obsessed!Aemond who can’t deny you when you touch him. He knows your kisses and cuddling was only meant to be innocent but you don’t understand how badly you drive him wild when your tits press up against his chest or the way you press down on his crotch. He’s indecent he knows for taking advantage of the situation, turning your playful touches into a full make out session. The kisses are sloppy as he looks to have you a pathetic mess on top of him, guiding your hips to take your own pleasure as you grind your hips down and onto him. 

Obsessed!Aemond, whose jealousy is twisted and cruel, that burns within him as he watches another man at the shopping centre trying desperately to flirt with you. Of course you don’t flirt back, you’re too innocent to know what’s going on as you smile at the man. He’s dragging you into the nearest bathroom, making it clear to the man what he’s about to do, while all you can do is follow him. The floor of the bathroom is dirty but Aemond doesn’t care, shoving you to your knees in front of him as he whips out his cock from the restraint of his jeans. His hand is tight in your hair as he groans, fucking into your mouth without care for how your jaw aches or for how you gag. You’re a drooling mess around him, eager to please as you hollow out your cheeks, only to cry and try harder when he hisses that you can definitely do better. 

Obsessed!Aemond who cleans you up, cleaning you up with wet wipes from that dirty bathroom. Even promising he’ll shower you and take good care of you when you get home, trying to make you stop pouting at him with those wet eyes. He pushes you out of the bathroom, lacing his hand with yours as he guides you to your favourite shop, hoping that maybe a nice treat would get him back on your good side again. 

Obsessed!Aemond who gets you guys home at a reasonable time to avoid any confrontation with your parents. Only for your mother to eye him up as he notices the bags of shopping you had got all on his credit card, not understanding why she was so disapproving of it all as you tried to show her. 

Obsessed!Aemond who makes good word of his promises, already having a hot bath waiting for you with him inside of it. Lathering up your body with soap as he takes his sweet time caressing every single inch of it. He doesn’t want you to think this is just sex between you so he doesn’t push it any further even when he feels his cock get hard being pressed against your ass cheek. It’s you that’s insistent, guiding his hands to where you need him while you work your hand against him. Both of you cursing into each other's mouths as you try to keep quiet, you rubbing his cock while making good work to slip your thumb against his head, him rubbing circles into your clit, nibbling at your lip as he does so. 

Obsessed!Aemond, who pats you dry with a towel, moisturises every inch of your body with lotion, even taking time to braid your hair when you’re finished blow drying it. He places you down onto the bed gently, more than ready to go to sleep but you’re not that tired yet, so he settles for a bit of pillow talk instead. Aemond who can’t help but adore every part of you as you tell him stories, listening to every word as he gets lost in the sound of your laughter. Who couldn’t help himself but kiss you when you looked and sounded so sweet, only meaning to show you how much he cared but within minutes has your leg hooked around his hip as he fucks into you. He takes it slow, apologising that he doesn’t mean to be this way but it’s what you do to him. 

[themotherofhorses]

im begging you, dark!aemond bodyguard of the president/king’s innocent daughter omggggg

pairing: bodyguard!aemond targaryen x president's daughter!reader

warnings: explicit language. oral sex. loss of virginity (kinda). daddy kink. slight breeding and housewife kink. small mentions of past obsessive tendencies on aemond's part.

notes: hello, long time no write. consider this me using this request like i'm saddling the horse after getting thrown off.

(also ik aemond might not seem AS dark as other times but like pretty pls read between the lines. thank you ☺️)

masterlist

For being the nation’s current president, your father was quite the fucking fool of a man.

He loves you, truly. How could he not? You were the spitting image of your late mother, and the youngest of his children- his sweet little chick that was barely beginning to spread her wings and leave the nest. He would never forgive himself if you ever got hurt due to his elected role as the commander-in-chief and head of state.

That was the main reason why he hired Aemond Targaryen as your personal bodyguard.

The man had a commendable record behind him, despite his young age. Your father was beyond impressed with him when he first interviewed him for the job. Two tours in the U.S. army as a sergeant and sniper before receiving an honorable discharge and a Purple Heart due to an eye injury while seeing combat overseas. According to some of the everyday politicians, he threw himself over his younger nephew during an ambush with enemy fire, and took a massive chunk of bomb shrapnel to the left side of his face; doctors saved him, of course, but his eye was too damaged to save.

They offered him a glass eye and a fully paid scar revision (along with special vet benefits and apparently some hush-hush money as well), but he refused it all. Instead, he accepted the purple heart, crammed a pretty and shiny sapphire into his empty socket, and made sure everyone- military personnel and civilian altogether- looked him in both eyes whenever they addressed him.

The rumors were true- Sergeant Aemond One-Eye was as terrifying as he was deadly.  

Perhaps that was the reason why it did not take very long for him to be buried between your thighs.

You never had a boyfriend before, always too devoted towards your college academic and hobbies, and way too protected and overshadowed by your father. But it was Aemond who stole your first kiss, two months into his new job as your bodyguard. He had been accompanying you on a small shopping trip to the mall, treating it as a sort of bonding experience. When you had mentioned the new lip gloss you were trying out (it was flavored ‘chai latte’), he had asked to taste it.

Okay! you giggled, thinking nothing of it; only for it to be a week later and with his head in between your thighs, eating you out like a starved man.

“Stop it…! Aemond! My daddy might walk in!” You cried, tossing your head back against the pillows as you bit down on your bottom lip to stop the moans from tumbling out. It was all in stupid vain; your bodyguard had you putty in his hands. Anything he wanted, you would happily give him- yourself included. “A-Aemond…!” How could he ever stop? Not when you sounded oh so fucking pretty, so sweet and yummy, his newfound favorite meal served to him on a silver platter, just ready to be completely devoured.

Aemond shook his head. “I don’t give the tiniest shit, babygirl,” he muttered as he sucked on your clit, only pausing every few seconds to kiss your soaked pussy. He had to be soft as well, considering this was a fucking dream come true for him.

The poor bastard remembered all the times he saw you on the television, in those paparazzi photos and the Christmas cards and those gorgeous social media posts of yours. No one would ever understand just how badly he wanted you, and the lengths he went just to have you.

And, well, maybe you should’ve thought first before stepping out in that sinful, short-cut and backless blue dress, the one that made you look perfect for him to knock up, his pretty little housewife. Perfect for him. Made for him. He kept your legs wide open with the tightest grips as he feasted on your cunt, ignoring your desperate (but adorable) attempts to push him away.

“If you can’t handle this, how will you handle my cock?” he tutted. “Poor baby, I’m going to fucking destroy you.”

Everything made your pretty face scrunch up in pleasure, especially when you felt him lick a large stripe up your pussy before he shoved his face in only deeper. You squealed, hiding your face from behind your hands. You could feel his nose, his chin, the heavy pants and low growls and soft kisses he peppered along inner thighs. “And what did I say to call me?” before he gave your ass a hard spank.

You whimpered, already on the verge of sobbing. Fat tears were streaking down your cheekbones. “I-I’m sorry…s-so sorry, daddy!”

Oh but your entire body felt like it was lit on fire- a burning yet tightening sensation nestled deep within your belly. It was so strange. You didn’t know what to make of it. Your head lolled to the side while your back arched up from the bed and your hand found Aemond’s long, whitish-blond hair.

(A common genetic mutation in his family, according to him. Some of the politicians mocked it as the ‘new Habsburg jaw’. You thought it made him look all the godlier.)

His hands soon slid up to your breast, palming and tweaking your nipples between his fingers. Your toes curled as you felt ready to explode at any second. “Daddy!” you mewled, peering down through teary eyes to watch as his face shook side-to-side. His own face held sheer bliss, especially when he brought a finger to trace along your drenched folds. “Daddy…! Daddy! Ah, gods, please!”  

“Yeah, that is right, pretty baby, I’m your new daddy now.”

Your father was none the wiser to the fact that, every night, his youngest daughter’s bodyguard had her in a mating press every night, whispering into her ear that it would not be long until she made him into a real daddy.

It was the least you could do in return, considering he was protecting your life with his.

After boring meetings and countless banquets and your a.m. college classes, Aemond would be quick to shove your panties in your mouth before bending you over the nearest furniture set.

You were his.

All his.

His pretty baby, his sweet little future housewife, the girl whose picture he used to secretly carry in one of the vest pockets during his days in the military.  

One day, your father pulled him aside and offered him a bonus.

“Truth is, son, you’re doing such a fine job at protecting her. I don’t worry as much as I did before you came along. We could not ask for a better bodyguard, Sergeant,” he admitted, patting him on the back. “Would there be anything you’d like in payment? A vacation? A bonus? Some free time with your family? I know you miss your mother very much; my little girl told me.”

But Aemond shook his head, declining everything. “Sir, with all due respect, your daughter feels like my new family now, considering how close we’ve grown in these past several months, and my duty in keeping her safe. I would prefer to remain by her side if you would allow it,” he said, and your father gave him a cheeky grin.

“Should I perhaps be worried, Sergeant?”

“Of course not, Mr. President. I adore your daughter, but only as a brother would his little sister.”

So it was true, it seemed- your father, bless his heart, was quite the fucking fool of a man. It should’ve been no surprise to him at all that seven months down the line from his conversation with your bodyguard, you would be trying to hide a swollen baby bump from everyone's eyes.

And if he really was smart, then he would’ve remembered the reason why the Targaryens were so often compared to the old Habsburgs of Austria.

[huramuna]

banshee's lament - chapter 5.

aemond targaryen x stark ofc minor jacaerys velaryon x stark ofc masterlist prev | next

a/n: again, a little bit of a slow chapter. shera deserved some happiness and i'm giving it to her, dammit. also i lied, i dropped the chapter on monday oopsies.

wordcount: 4.5k

@huramuna-fics - follow & turn on notifications for just my fic postings! no taglists right now, sorry.

content: smut, angst, fluff, disabled ofc, aemond being delulu & obsessive, major canon divergence, ofc has a service direwolf, i'm taking canon rules and putting them in a blender and taking a shot, arranged marriage, graphic depictions of violence, my terrible, terrible combat writing

story playlist

Shera’s handwriting, in all accounts, was terrible. It was crude and wispy, all blending together like a child’s scrawl. As she sat at her desk, the ink dripping onto the paper from the length of her pauses, she wondered how to sign it. 

Yours,

Shera

No, that was much too personal— she… she wasn’t his. 

Best,

Shera Stark

That felt formal and detached. It simply wouldn’t do.

She went through a myriad of different closing statements, wroughting her brain over like wringing out a rag. She even considered not doing it at all. 

No, no— she… she wanted to. She needed to try, atleast. Sulking and crying would only do so much for her. She needed to be proactive and offer an olive branch of sorts. She settled on a simple drawing of Moongeist— or mayhaps any wolf, but the point was there. He’d know. 

With the note pinned to her cut dress fabric, she snuck from her chambers, flagging down a pageboy. 

“Hello,” she murmured to the young lad, who couldn’t be any older than nine or ten. “May I ask a favor of you, ser?” 

“Yes ma’am… my lady,” he corrected softly, eyes wondering to Moongeist, who was sitting patiently at Shera’s feet. 

“May you take this fabric and note to Prince Aemond’s chambers and leave it upon his desk?” 

“The prince doesn’t like people going through his things while he’s not there, miss,” he responded, blue eyes wide. “I do not wish to be flogged.” 

Shera blinked slowly. Surely Aemond didn’t have servants flogged for an indiscretion. “Has… Prince Aemond had pageboys flogged before?” 

“No, miss— but I delivered him a letter while he was eating his lunch once… he had his eyepatch off on the table and I did not knock,” the young boy looked at his hands. “He said if I didn’t knock next time, he would make me clean up Vhagar’s dung with a wheelbarrow.” 

What the fuck, Aemond? Shera stifled a little laugh, trying not to embarrass the boy. “How about this,” she hummed. “Would you like to pet my wolf? He’s a real direwolf, all the way from the North.” 

The lad eyed Moongeist with a curious gaze. “My mumma had a shaggy dog with a curly tail when I was young. He licked my face n’ smelled horrible but he was my bestest friend,” he said, bashful. “He died a while ago— no one’s got any more pups for me to pet.” 

“He’d love a pet from you, ser,” Shera continued. “Will you deliver this to Prince Aemond’s chambers? If he gets cross with you, tell me and I’ll resolve it and sic my wolf upon him. No harm will befall you.” 

Shyly, the boy smiled, offering his hand to the wolf. Moongeist sniffed his hand and licked his palm, causing the boy to giggle. 

Shera showed him where Moongeist liked to be scratched the most, and the pageboy was quite pleased with himself when he had the giant wolf thumping his foot on the ground like a puppy at the most perfect of scratches. 

He took her note and favor and tottered off. 

— 

Shera knocked on Helaena’s door. “Hela?” she called softly. 

A handmaid opened the door and let her in, wide eyes upon Moongeist. 

The solar was lovely, decorated in blue and purple silks upon the ceiling. There were framed pinnings of various bugs upon the walls, some of them being very rare if she remembered correctly. 

Upon the floor were strewn children’s toys, like wooden dragons that Helaena had when she was little, along with soldier dolls and princess dolls. Some children’s books were left open, some neatly stacked near the settee. 

Shera’s eye landed on Helaena, who was bobbing a toddler on her knee on the couch. A white haired child approached her, his violet eyes wide. He was the spitting image of Aegon as a child. 

“Who’s you?” he asked, not afraid to stare— like all children do. 

“Shera!” Helaena exclaimed, humming as she hoisted the smaller child onto her hip. “Jaehaerys, this is your auntie Shera.” 

“Auntie… Shera…” the little boy echoed. “Is she married to uncle Aemond?” 

Helaena’s face blanched slightly. “No, dearest,” she hummed. “She is very close to me, like a sister. Like Jaehaera is your sister.” 

“Oh,” he murmured. “She doesn’t have white hair. And she has a dog.” 

“He’s a wolf, Jaehaerys,” Shera chimed in. “Has your mumma read to you about direwolves and Winter Kings yet?” 

“A woof,” the smallest child chimed in, bouncing happily upon Helaena’s hip. “A woof, a woof!” 

“Well, I should introduce the children. You have already met Jaehaerys,” Helaena ruffed up his white curls as he continued to stare at Shera unabashedly. “He has a twin sister, Jaehaera. Who is…” Helaena swirled around. “She is hiding behind the settee,” she whispered, leading Shera to look at the pair of violet eyes peeking over the furniture at her. “And this is my youngest, Maelor. He is two years old. The twins are five.” 

“They’re gorgeous Hela,” Shera mused. “Jaehaerys looks just like Aegon, I thought I had stepped into the past when I saw him. Maelor, however,” she added, smiling at the little cherubic face of the youngest prince, who was blushing and giggling, “looks just like his mumma.” 

“Come sit, lovey,” Helaena said as she put Maelor down on the floor near the toys. “Lunch should be here soon. You look darling in that shade. You look like a jeweled beetle,” she hummed, offering her hand to Shera, which she took. Hela’s palm was warm, like a toasty fire, but not sweltering. It felt akin to being swaddled with a blanket. “Can I show you some of my bugs?” 

“Of course,” Shera agreed, feeling genuinely at ease. The solar was lively and lived in, surely because of the children— it felt… homely and not sterile and lifeless like some others’ chambers. 

Off to the far wall, Helaena led her to a bookshelf, carved in draconic designs and various Old Valyrian sigils that she couldn’t quite parse. It was stocked from top to bottom with various books, mostly pertaining to the taxonomy and biology of insects and arachnids— but there were some familiar titles snuck in as well. 

‘The Winter Kings of Yore: An Account of the North’. 

“Hela— you still have this?” Shera asked, her hand thumbing over the positively ancient book, prising it from the shelf. She remembered this was one of her favorite books as a child and would request Helaena to read it when they bathed. 

“Of course! I still have this one, too. ‘Tis Maelor’s favorite.” she pointed to another book, nestled next to the other tome. It was much shorter, but its hard cover was more colorful with streams of blue and purple thread embroidered into a moon and an image of a wolf. 

‘Moonpuppy’. It was a children’s book, the only one Shera had brought with her to King’s Landing when she arrived at age five. 

“Oh Gods,” Shera breathed, her fingertips skimming over the embroidery. It wasn’t the original binding of the book— the book was well loved into bits, to where the inner pages only remained at one point. Shera and Helaena had worked tirelessly for a whole moon trying to prise it back together. The princess embroidered the cover, trying to make it as close to the original as possible. 

Opening the book, she remembered they even made a title page, inked in their silly children’s handwriting. 

‘Moonpuppy, edition II. By Helaena Targaryen and Shera Stark.’

Shera wanted to cry. She sniffed, carefully going through the pages. “Helaena, how have you managed to make me cry twice now?” 

“Tears of happiness, my little wolf spider,” Hela whispered. “You should read it to Maelor. You were always better at the voices than I.”

“Oh, Hela— I… I don’t know if I can,” she whispered, heat coming to her ears. “It… hurts to speak for long and I cannot project… what if he cannot hear me?” 

“Even at two, he is a very good listener. He is nothing like his father in that regard.” 

Shera wiped away her tears and went to sit down. “Maelor, is this your favorite book?” 

“Mwoonpubby!” the toddler exclaimed, jumping to attention right away. 

“Do you know all the words? It’s been quite a while since I’ve read— I may need help remembering.” 

“Mumma reads it every night— can I be the pubby and you be the mwoon?” 

The strength of Shera’s smile almost hurt her face. “Of course.” 

She began her reading, her fingertips buzzing with elation and a strange sense of anxiety.

Once, long ago, there was a puppy. 

He lived in the bitter cold and was very small, but that was okay. He had a large family to keep him warm. 

His mumma and papa talked to the moon each night, encouraging him to do the same. 

‘I don’t know what to say.’ said the little pup. 

‘Whatever is in your heart, dearest. The moon will listen. She will always listen.’ His mumma soothed him, fiddling over his fur with her big tongue. 

One day, it was very dark. Usually, at night, they had the light of the moon. But it was gone this night, smothered in fog and clouds. 

The little pup whined, trudging in the snow. He was lost! He was lost and he couldn’t find his way back to his mumma. 

‘Mumma! Mumma!’ he howled to the sky, to the hidden stars, to the darkened moon. ‘Moon? Moon?’ 

Shera cleared her throat, feeling the pinch of her nerves creeping up on her. She wanted to finish it— she had to.

There was no answer. He was alone. 

He cried and cried for hours, so alone and so cold without his family to warm him. He missed his mumma so badly, he missed the moon. 

‘I don’t talk to you much,’ the pup said, muzzle to the sky. ‘I don’t have much to say usually. I am sorry.’ 

He shuffled his paws as he huddled under a low hanging ledge, out of the snow. It was still wet and he was cold, but it was better than nothing. 

He felt cold still, cold in his bones— 

A light shined down upon him, finally. The moon had broken through the fog. 

Her voice was so hoarse now, that nary a sound came out. Moongeist nuzzled his snout under her hand in a gesture to tell her to take it easy. 

She opened her mouth to speak, but couldn’t, her voice catching within the brambles of her inflamed vocal cords. 

“S’okay, auntie Shewa,” Maelor said, toddling up onto the couch and snuggling up to Shera without any reservation. “I can finish it, I know all the pawrts. Mumma gets tired too sometimes… so I finish the stowy.” 

He could see, he could see. ‘Oh, thank you, thank you!’ he howled and barked and yipped. 

‘You should talk to me more, little pup,’ the moon cooed, bathing him in her silver light. ‘My sweet little moonpuppy.’ 

His pack found him quickly, all piling near him to keep him warm. He snuggled into their furs, looking up at the sky. 

The moon was full that night, full and bright. 

“Auntie Shewa?” 

“Hm?” 

“Can I pet your woof?” 

Shera looked to Helaena and gave a nod.

“You have to be gentle, like with the bugs.” Helaena stepped in, saving Shera from further talking— to which she was grateful for. 

“Uh huh…” Maelor mumbled, dragging his chubby little hand over Moongeist’s fur in a gentle manner so unlike a toddler. “Soft.” 

Moongeist licked the boy’s head, cowlicking his white curls into one. He giggled with delight.

–

They all lunched together, Helaena insisting that they sit on the floor and eat with the children. They sat in a circle, the kids having their porridge. They each had different toppings, which felt so much like them.

Jaehaerys had cut up ham atop his, accompanied by a smattering of frizzled onions. 

Jaehaera, on the other hand, had pieces of stewed pumpkin atop hers, glazed with cinnamon and maple syrup. It had some roasted pumpkin seeds atop for crunch. She had more of a sweet tooth than her brother, it seemed.

Maelor had a smaller bowl with plain porridge and melted butter– he glanced at Shera’s plate, to which her and Helaena were both eating parboiled quail eggs, dipping their toasted bread in the yolk. 

“Mumma– want egg,” Maelor muttered, swirling his spoon in his porridge. 

“What kind of egg, darling?” Helaena asked.

“I want what Auntie Shewa has,” he continued. “Dippy egg.”

“Maera,” Helaena called to her handmaiden. “Can you please have the cooks whip up some dippy eggs for Maelor– and mayhaps a bone for Moongeist, too?” 

The thumping of a tail was heard as the wolf heard ‘bone’ and ‘Moongeist’ in the same sentence. He stayed near Shera, but also in close proximity to Maelor, who had become quite attached to the wolf very quickly. The toddler offered porridge from his spoon to him, who happily slurped up the food with a wagging tail. 

Soon enough, Maelor was devouring his dippy eggs with toast. Helaena leaned forward now, tracing little circles on the plush rug they sat upon. “It was supposed to be different, you know.” 

Shera blinked. “What was?”

“I was supposed to be betrothed to Jacaerys– before… Aegon,” she started, eyes glazed over and looking towards somewhere far away, somewhere not completely there. “It might have been nice. I don’t know.”

“... really? You and Jacaerys?” she raised a brow. She couldn’t imagine Alicent ever agreeing to such a thing.

“Mother wasn’t pleased. Father pushed and pushed but mother was stronger and pushed back. It was a flash in the pan, so to speak. I wish I knew where we would be now if she had agreed.” 

“You would be upon Dragonstone, Hela– with… Jace’s children, presumably,” Shera cringed inwardly at the thought– that would be her some day.

Helaena wrinkled her nose at the thought, seemingly agreeing with Shera’s sentiment. “For all his faults–” she got up then, tugging Shera to her feet and leading her to the open window. “Aegon is… good with the children. When he is here. I don’t… he isn’t my husband in feeling– but he is my brother. What are we, any of us– but beholden to the mistakes of our families. All of us.”

Shera stayed silent as they sat on the windowsill together, letting Helaena talk. It seemed like something she didn’t talk about much– if ever. 

“He got the worst of mother’s rage. It broke something in him. But I think there is something broken in all of us, even mother,” Helaena reached to the trellis, plucking a beetle that was hiding between two folded leaves. “All of her children are cursed in some way,” she lifted her periwinkle gaze to Shera then. “You are one of her children, too.” 

“... cursed,” she echoed. Yes, that seems about right.

“Will you survive?” the princess turned the conversation then. “Upon Dragonstone?”

“I don’t know.” she answered truthfully, talking in honesty about the betrothal to someone for the first time. She tried before with Cregan, but he didn’t listen. 

“You’ll have to take the reins, you know,” Helaena prattled on, staring at the beetle with her full, rapt attention. It was blue in color, gleaming like a sapphire jewel in the sunlight. “Take them and steer them. You’ll be the only one able to change it– the trees bleed, Shera– cut lip, punctured wood...”

Shera’s brow furrowed further. Helaena was known to descend into her ramblings– but something within her tingled at the words. She didn’t know what they meant, but it made her stomach churn. She felt the whoosh of air from outside the window, a cream colored blur in the edge of her vision. She didn’t hear it, only felt it and saw it, fleeting. It landed upon a spiked point of the keep, across the way from the window– but she couldn’t parse what it was. Shera blinked profusely, bringing her hands to her eyes and rubbing them. When she looked again, it was gone, mayhaps never even there. 

“Hold the beetle, Shera,” Hela hummed, offering the jewel colored insect to her. “You remember how to hold them?”

“Gentle,” she responded, voice so quiet that it was hardly even a whisper. The beetle crawled eagerly onto her palm, roving around slowly. 

“I need to clean up the children for naptime. Maera,” the princess called, hopping off of the window sill. She walked to the handmaiden, who was a head taller than Helaena. Her dark brown hair was braided in one long wisp, a few errant strands sticking to her forehead. She had tanned skin and dark eyes, with a curved nose. The handmaiden smiled to Helaena and they whispered to one another, clearly very familiar, before they disappeared toward the nursery.

Her surroundings blurred as she kept her attention on the beetle. It seemed so simple, so… calm, despite being in the palm of a would-be predator. The light reflected off of its blue colored carapice, the elytra buzzing ever so slightly. It wanted to stretch, the slight unfold of its wings captivating Shera. She wondered what it was like to fly– she had always refused Jacaerys when he asked her to join him atop Vermax. But if… if she were the one flying, she may not be so scared. Her shoulders rolled in tandem with the beetle, feeling a crack of her bones and the ghostly sensation of her own wings clawing out from them. 

The beetle’s antenna wriggled, its little claws digging into her palm, pulling itself along. It wanted to go, it wanted to fly. Leaning towards the window, she saw the great expanse of the sky, littered now with clouds. There was a little breeze now, ruffling the gentle film of the wings as they extended– they looked and felt broken when coming from their sutures, but straightened out quickly. Crawling closer, closer to the breeze, flitting upon it. Hovering now, legs dangling ever expertly. Regarding the indoors one last time– pushing forward into the open air, flight, flight, wisping upon the breeze… was this freedom? 

“Shera! Open your eyes!” 

The breeze died upon her face as she turned to see Helaena at her side, a few maids behind her looking terrified– Moongeist was whining at her feet. 

“Shera?” Helaena whispered now, her periwinkle eyes wide. “Are you alright?”

“... yes– um,” she glanced around nervously at the maids, who were now chittering amongst themselves. 

“Thank you, ladies– you may go now. I will call the maester myself if Shera falls ill again.” 

Ill? She was awake that entire time, she knew it– she was… focusing on the beetle… the beetle…

“Hela– where is the beetle?” 

“The beetle…” she breathed, looking over to the table. 

Shera looked to see an open lightbox, the beetle was in it. It was seized up, not moving. 

“It fell. Its thorax got torn on the windowsill– I will fix it before I pin it,” the princess sighed. “The breeze was too strong.”

“Is it dead?” 

“Yes.” 

Shera felt cold, a chill creeping at her back. “I should… I should get some rest, I think. M-much excitement for me today, I think.”

Helaena nodded.

–

Shera laid in bed, taking her dinner in her chambers. She felt… utterly exhausted. The day had been tumultuous, even without her… disassociating spell in Helaena’s chambers.

Her fingers roved over a book– it was something that was just left in her room for decoration and no real substance. Her eye strained as she tried to focus on the words. It was already hard enough to read with only one working eye, but with the content of this book being so boring, she couldn’t parse any of it at all. 

Knock, knock, knock. Three knocks rapt upon her door.

“I don’t need any tea,” she croaked out, unable to project her voice. She slipped out of her bed, adorned in her nightgown– it was fairly see-through, so she grabbed a blanket and slipped it over her head and body, snugging it close. She hated being caught without her veil on. “Please, come back in the morning.” she muttered as she opened the door, peeking her face out slightly.

“I’m afraid I cannot take no for an answer, Lady Stark,” Aemond hummed, standing before her in all his glory. He wasn’t dressed for bed– she wondered if he wore his riding and sparring leathers to bed, too. “I was tasked with delivering some… reading material to you.” 

Shera perked a brow inquisitively. “Reading material?” She hadn’t requested anything specific from the library.

“Can I come in?” 

Shera bit her lip. “Yes… I suppose…” she opened the door wider for him to come in as she scrambled to find a veil to wear. 

“No need for that. I won’t look if it makes you uncomfortable.” he said, his tone a bit softer than usual. He had two books in his hands as he looked around the room. 

“I don’t wish to make you uncomfortable,” Shera grunted, a bit indignantly. His words from the dinner still echoed in her head. Mayhaps it's a mangled mess under there. She remembered him laughing at her earlier in the day when her veil had slipped slightly. Her cheeks burned as she pulled the blanket taut around her, facing away from him. 

“I’m sure I’ve seen worse,” he said flatly, putting the books down on the side table next to the chaise. “But, out of respect, I won’t look.” 

She was sure he meant it as a way to soothe her worry, but she couldn’t help but feel tears start to form. Hastily, she wiped them away. “What was so important that this… delivery couldn’t wait until morn?” she glanced at him, her eyes stinging. “And why you?” she added, her punctuation of you a bit more harsh than she intended. 

Aemond’s brow knit as he regarded her. He said he wouldn’t look, the liar. 

She whipped in the opposite direction quickly. 

“Helaena asked me to deliver you this… and I had one to give you as well. Think of it as a betrothal gift.” he muttered, beginning to walk the room as if he wasn’t an intruder. Well, she had invited him in. 

Moongeist was snoozing on the bed, belly up. His legs twitched in the air as he whimpered softly from dreaming. Aemond stared at him. “This is your valiant protector? He is sleeping on the job.” 

“He deserves rest— you aren’t a threat to me, Aemond. He senses that,” she replied. Not a threat physically, at least. You’re a predator to my mind. 

“Hm,” he hummed, walking to the table where she still had two honey walnut cakes sitting out. “You enjoyed them, I take it?” 

“What?”

“The cakes. I had a maid bring them to you this morn.” 

“Oh– it was you,” she murmured, the tips of her ears flushing under the implication. “... thank you. It… helped.” 

“You were… distressed– these always used to cheer you up.”

Shera let out a tentative breath. He had thought of her– and remembered her favorite sweet? And… cared enough to have them brought to her. Maybe… maybe he didn’t loathe her so. “They were… very good,” she continued, letting a smile come to her face. It felt strange to smile around Aemond after so long.

“Yes, the cook who made them still works in the kitchens,” he picked up one, taking a bite. He had liked them as well, but his favorite had always been blueberry scones. “She surprisingly hasn’t kicked the bucket yet– still working away down there, at seventy-five. Mother offered her retirement and a nice hole in the wall shack near the wharf. She refused, adamant to work until she died.” he made a noise of surprise at the taste. “Still good.” 

“I’m surprised you remembered, Aemond,” she walked closer then, making sure to snatch the last one off of the plate before he decided to take it, too. She took a bite, the honey sticking to her fingers.

“I remember a lot, Shera,” he pulled out a chair and took a seat. Why was he staying?

 Her heart stopped momentarily as he said her name. She buried herself further into the pastry to hide her red cheeks. “Memories are a plague,” she grumbled, pulling up her legs to her chest after she settled into the chair next to him. 

“That they are, most of them are. A festering, decrepit reminder of… things best left forgotten. However,” he leaned forward then, his thumb cleaning off a drip of errant honey from the corner of her mouth. “I do remember, you were always a messy eater. Some things don’t change, do they?”

She shivered as he touched her with such… gentleness he hadn’t displayed at all since she’s been back. It was a glimpse into the boy he used to be– he was still there, deep down. She almost choked on the rest of her cake, putting it down on the plate as she quietly licked her fingers, trying to distract herself. “... no, some things don’t change.” 

“The book weren’t the only reason I came– Helaena asked me to ask you if you would like to come on a picnic to the Kingswood tomorrow. With Aegon, the children, Helaena and I. She told me that… Maelor required you bring Moongeist.” 

Shera stared at him for a long moment, her eyes wide and owlish. The blanket slipped from her head slightly as she leaned forward, snatching the remainder of Aemond’s honey walnut cake from his fingers. “I suppose– as long as there are more cakes,” she hummed, feeling a slightly giddy sensation tingle down her spine as she devoured the rest. “How on earth did you manage to get Aegon to agree?” 

“I promised that there would be wine,” he watched, his violet eye roving her face unabashedly as she finished the pilfered sweet. 

“And?” 

“And… mayhaps I threatened to pay all the brothels off to not service him any longer if he did not attend.” 

–

Aemond left soon after, bidding her goodnight in a very stiff and still… somewhat cold in manner. But he was trying– she could see that. 

Before tucking back into bed, she looked to see the books he had left for her.

One was the copy of ‘Moonpuppy’ that she had read earlier that day.

The other, the supposed ‘gift’ from Aemond, was a well-worn, well-loved copy of the old folk hero ‘Symeon Star-Eyes’. Upon opening the cover and flitting through the pages, she saw many notes and footnotes on each page– it was Aemond’s handwriting. He had left his thoughts on each page– as she descended through the book, his handwriting changed and evolved. It started off very shaky and tenuous, but as she scanned through the end of the tome, it was confident and sophisticated. He had annotated this copy for years, his handwriting and views on the text changing with each year. Flipping back to the front, she looked at the date.

It was dated five moons after the Driftmark incident. Then, opening the back– it was dated a fortnight ago. He had written, noted, and journaled in this book for ten years.

Why did he give this to her?

[dope-trope-105]

Wanna Watch a Movie?

Modern Aegon II Targaryen x Reader

A/N: A prequel to "Piña Coladas", set in the same storyline as "Enamoured by Strawberries" and can be considered a prequel to that as well. I've written this fic in a way where you see the reader's relations with a lot of people in the Targaryen family, and how they hold a place for her in each of their hearts. And I may have pushed this in a little "love triangle" trope as well, which I might continue in future parts or I might not. Summary: The beginning of the vacation of all the Targaryen children, and a cute family lunch beforehand.

Warnings: Age-gap, an obsessive and calculated Aegon.

Word Count: 4.1k

It had been another shitty morning for you at the mansion. Daemon had woken you up, his loud voice coming from your door to take laps shaking your brain like he’d made you do the moment he decided he could. It was the worst possible way to wake up, seeing as you weren’t even a morning person. Yet, as you sat by your mirror running a comb through your hair, freshly showered and post-run, you felt great. You loved this part of the day the most, which was why you’d let Daemon force you to do this every day, your lazy ways needed the push. And it felt phenomenal to not feel like a slug after waking up as well. 

You did the same routine as every day, though you opted to wash your hair today. But after getting dressed as comfortably yet fashionably as you could, you headed for lunch, your stomach growling with hunger. As you walked through the large hallway, having made a right to the grand central staircase, you saw little Aeggie and Visie playing with Ana, their au pair, on a carpet in the living room. You waved to her, giving Aeggie a small kiss on the cheek as he came running up to greet you. Visie preferred Dany's company, but Aeggie had become obsessed with you in a matter of the one minute he spent in your arms. He was only three as of now, looking up at you with large, violet puppy-dog eyes as he lifted his arms, "up-up-up" leaving his mouth in his adorable baby voice. 

"You can take him to lunch, I was just getting ready to do so," said Ana. 

You nodded, flashing her a smile as you lifted Aeggie up, resting him on your left hip. One of his little hands went over your shoulder while the other twiddled your earring.

Little Aegon was a curious baby, his fiddling always finding something on your person to adore, sometimes your earrings, sometimes your necklaces, your bracelets, or even your hair. You walked behind the staircase, finding the smaller drawing-room, Rhaegar sat there with Aemond, who was on his laptop, they were both conversing. You walked over to them. "Hey guys, whatcha doing?" you said, grabbing little Aegon's arm to stop him from pulling your earrings off. "Just chatting," said Rhaegar. Aemond beckoned you to him, and you walked to stand near the armchair he sat on, glancing at his screen.

"You remember I was reading Critique of the Power of Judgement last night?"

"Yeah, yeah, the five-part by Kant you were telling me about?"

"Yeah, that one. Turns out, I hit a bit of a snag. That man's fucking diabolical, it's almost like I’m supposed to read it and decipher it on my own. I know you've got some app or something that answers everything, would something help?" he asked, looking up from the screen to you as you sat on the armrest.

"Umm, yeah, Reddit. It’ll probably have a bunch of people giving different answers, and you could read different perspectives, and find your own amongst them, there’s also chat gpt, it’s this AI-based website, I think, that just scrolls through everything on the internet and gives you the best answer. Use small sentences, I'm sure you'll find what you're looking fo- what are you doing?" You stopped mid-sentence as the sound of a camera made both you and Aemond turn to Rhaegar. "You guys kind of look like a married couple," Rhaegar snickered. You scoffed. Aemond frowned.

"I'm going for lunch, you guys gonna join us?" you asked.

"Yeah," said Rhaegar, eyes on his phone as he scrolled through the pictures he took.

"Yeah, I'll come to you for help, thanks for the advice," Aemond said.

You nodded, turning away and walking down the stone hallway. Aeggie was very calm in your arms. Rhaenyra had been grateful to you for this since day one, he was a noisy baby, but in her arms or yours, he'd almost always end up completely relaxed. More often than not, you'd find the crying baby being handed to you along with his sippy cup, and he'd settle down fairly quickly. Right now his head rested on your shoulder as he played with the hem of your top. You smiled as you whiffed his platinum hair, and it smelled like babies do. The hallway to the dining hall was one of the longest, tapestries hung on both sides. You'd glance at each and every single one as you walked to lunch every time. You always took your time in this hallway, strolling as the only sounds were your breathing and your echoing footsteps on the cool stone floors. Little Aegon would sometimes babble lightly. You reached the end of the hallway soon, turning left and entering the large doors of the hall, which opened to the dining table, chatter filled the air. Most of the family sat there.

"Hey guys," you said, walking in, as greetings rang across the table. Rhaenyra smiled at Aeggie, who'd now fallen asleep in your arms. She began to get up. "It's alright, he's asleep, eat your food," you said to her, and she flashed you another smile, settling back down into her seat. You walked to your own, Aegon, who sat in his own chair moved yours so you could sit. You uttered thanks to him as you settled into your seat, folding one foot upwards, adjusting so Aeggie lay on your chest, soft snores coming from him.

The dining hall, like the rest of the castle, was of stone and decorated in a dark, yet luxurious manner, its stone appearance giving it this beautiful, authentic ambience that was not very common, yet touches of modernity to balance it out dotted the place. The table was stone with dark marble designs, and the seats were plush pale green and light pink. You took out your phone, flipping through your notifications before turning it off and setting it on the table. Baela had been busy chatting away with Viserys. She turned away from him to your direction and softly elbowed you so as to not disturb the sleeping Aeggie.

"Yo, I spent almost all day yesterday begging Father, and he said yes to allowing a trip for us, I'm thinking Bora Bora," she said. You hmm'ed, approving of her choice, obviously. 

"When are we going?" you asked. "Tonight?" she questioned. "It'll take all day to pack, how long are you thinking?" you asked, a whine evident in your former sentence. 

"A week? I want a vacation, I've convinced Jace, Mr. Vizzy and his sister here, Vizzy is gonna convince Rhaegar, Aemond, Helaena and Aegon, Daeron's in already," you nodded thoughtfully. You looked over to Vizzy, who nodded at you with a confident smirk on his face. You knew the stubborn boy would get it done within the hour, no issues. He was one of the most persuasive people you knew. You continued chatting with Baela, ever so often running your hand over Aeggie's small body.

Unbeknownst to you, Aegon was simply gazing at you. He'd known about your slight crush on him for a while now, but you kept it under covers. Since the moment he did realise that about you, he'd caught himself staring quite often. He was so lost in his thoughts that Daeron slapped his arm to make him look away from you. He looked back at his younger brother, annoyance evident in his gaze, who leaned in and whispered, "Daemon's caught you staring. If you're really going to undress her with your eyes, at least don't do it in public for all to see," he said, scoffing.

It was well known Daemon had taken a liking to you, he treated you like Baela, only he shared more interests with you. He played a paternal role in your life since you’d moved into the mansion. Aegon did not want to mess with Daemon one bit. He turned back to his meal, uninterested as he'd throw glances at you ever so often. Aegon loved it when you doted on him. He enjoyed it far more when you'd start to get all girly for him, getting flirty, and touchy, but he knew of your inexperience. You were a master of the pre-sex, you were good at flirting, you knew the right thing to say, the right moment to touch. But Aegon knew if he were ever to take you to bed, you'd completely give in, and let him lead.

He'd seen you interacting with others too. You were very sweet at times, like with Baela, with little kids, and especially little babies. Your actions showed affection, your hugs were long, your words thought out, and you were attentive to those you talked to. This was the reason Aemond had taken a liking to you, as a friend even if you were much younger. He'd seen you two have discussions quite often. And sometimes it made him jealous.

You were also a brat. You'd quip, snap and even anger easily. You were social, but if someone tried to cross limits, your temper would take. Your words could be the most bitter of poisons laced in the sweetest honey. It was obvious the only way to handle you was to dominate you. Take Daemon, for example, he was sweet with you but very strict. Aegon knew about the training, and the pride Daemon held in seeing you excel at it. You were angered easily, yes, but could be subdued if caught by surprise. That's how he imagined you in bed, obedient but demanding, bratty but submissive. You'd top him only with his guidance, only if he asked you to and taught you to, and he'd still be in control. He'd teach you things about him, about your own body. The thoughts made his cock twitch, and he threw you another glance.

Little Aegon on your chest had stirred, and you calmed him as he moved his head, resting on your plush chest, his hand gripping the neckline of your top. The baby had luck, Aegon thought, internally scoffing at himself for being borderline jealous of a baby. He lifted his head to see Daemon looking at him, a lazy gaze settled as if the rogue prince was waiting for him to mess up, so he could pounce. Aegon struck up a conversation with his brother, who eyed him ever so often regarding you.

Beala and you slowly chatted as you ate your food, conversation striking all across the table. "Well if you girls are going to be packing for Bora Bora, who's gonna take the high Valyrian classes?" questioned Daemon, and both of you groaned. Studies you shared with Baela, though you studied biology, she studied psychology. But nonetheless, both of you studied High Valyrian, History and English together. Both of you planned to study from home till you turned twenty and jump straight to majoring in your specific fields. Rhaenyra laughed at your reactions, until Baela chimed up, "Luke, Rhaena and Joff should be the ones being taught, maybe we should leave Jace behind, have you heard his Valyrian?" Baela laughed, and you snorted at Jace's defeated look.

It was true, Jace suffered quite a bit with the language. "I was literally kidnapped, and I spoke Valyrian properly Jace," Dany teased, referring to her mom keeping her and Viserys away from the family till Dany had turned thirteen and Rhaegar decided to intervene, taking his younger siblings with him away from their abusive household. "Alright, don't go on making him cry now," Rhaenyra laughed, snickers rising from across the room and Jace groaned. 

"Welp, I guess we're leaving Jacey behind, enjoy the stormy beaches," you shrugged, giggling at Jace whose eyes bugged out of his head, air-fiving Dany from across the table. "I still don't understand why we can't go," Rhaena whined. Luke shook his head in agreement. "Not getting into this again," Baela sighed, shoving her food into her mouth. 

Lunch was finished soon, and Aeggie had woken from his slumber, crying. "Awww, don't cry baby," you cooed, trying to make him stop. "Give him here, he must be hungry," said Ana, walking over to you as she took the baby from you, who screamed louder before becoming completely silent as he was handed a bottle. "Just like you brother," snickered Daeron. "You'd be writhing in pain but the moment you're handed a bottle, all's well," Daeron made eye contact with his mother before hiding his smirk behind his hands, all of you silently laughing as Aegon frowned. But most of it fell deaf on his ears as he saw you, lips completely sealed off by your palm as you covered your flushed face with your hair, trying not to laugh. "Alright, that's enough," said Daemon. The laughing stopped, but Aegon was sure that order was directed not in his defence, but towards him. Nonetheless, you went back to your room, laughing along with Baela.

By the time night fell, the living room was filled up with items of luggage as arguing came from your room from the next room. "No, not that one, I'll look like a whore," your voice came. "Isn't that the point?" Baela's annoyed voice retorted. "No, I wanna look sexy, I don't wanna look like a prostitute," you said, making Alicent groan at the brash discussion between you girls as the argument continued. Everyone was sitting in the living room, your room was only a floor above, and your audible arguments made it clear you'd forgotten to shut the door. "Why couldn't we just go tomorrow, this is a nightmare," you whined again. "Bitch, Bora Bora is worth this," Baela quipped. "Well, of course, you'd say that, you were probably packed last month," you said, Baela's loud groan of frustration was the only reply. You blamed yourself. Both you and Baela had decided to laze around in your room, and when the time to board was only an hour away, Viserys called you to ask if you were done. Since then panic has sprung across your room.

"Alright, Alright, Alright. Let's just make a plan, we still have forty-five minutes," you finally said. "Forty-four, now but ok. We have seven days, we need two flight outfits, seven outfits for the day, seven for the evening, seven for the night, seven to sleep in, seven for swimming and seven pairs of lingerie. I'm thinking three extra pairs of nightwear, bikinis and lingerie," you finished. 

"Plus we need to plan footwear and jewellery for each outfit, plus makeup, skincare, hair and body stuff," Baela added, "and a toothbrush," you added. It was actually quite funny for the family listening to you two pack. Nonetheless, you came up victorious with the plan and had everything laid out on the bed, only needing to pack it all, Baela had gone to her room, left of yours and done the same. Then you girls switched rooms and scanned each other's things, came back out, approved of each other's choices and went back to your own rooms to pack everything. 

By the time you girls were finished packing, you had almost been reduced to tears while Baela was rethinking every single outfit she packed. Your luggage had been brought down a few minutes before you came down the stairs, promising each other to buy outfits if you didn't like what you had already packed. But once you were surrounded by everyone, your entire group hugged the rest goodbye and boarded the jet. 

Aemond and Rhaegar had decided to sit at the far back, followed by Helaena and Dany. This was the quiet part of the flight. They had been speaking quietly, not much, just silly conversation. Then sat Viserys, Jace and Aegon, they were planning what to do, discussing destinations and all. In the free space of the jet in the front stood you, Baela, and Daeron. Aegon had butted out of the discussion soon, rotating his seat so he could speak to Daeron. But even that had been short-lived for he simply retired to rubbing his fingers over the cold beer bottle as he watched you, seat almost completely reclined. He had sunglasses on so you couldn't see his gaze. But he was completely enamoured.

The stress of packing had you and Baela completely unwinding on the flight. Both of you had downed three shots and had ended up dancing with each other. Aegon watched you swaying your hips, arms going over Daeron's neck often as you three sang out some stupid rap. You had very little tolerance and had resolved to become a tumbling, giggling mess already. Baela was pretty much the same. Jace, Viserys and Daeron all sat in the front, drinking, and playing cards, and were responsible for the music, 

Ever so often Daeron would walk up, always to you. Aegon didn't like how his brother was almost a spitting image of himself, so you'd let loose around him too, he wasn't the same as Aegon obviously, but in your mind, it'd do, and Aegon knew that. The kids would cheer as you and Daeron danced together, your hands on his neck, his hands on your waist. You were slurring out the lyrics, Daeron laughing nonstop as he sang along with you, his deep voice a sharp contrast with your high-pitched one. A turbulence had you falling into his arms, him catching you easily as you leant onto him completely, laughing into his shoulder. Aegon's knuckles had become white from the tight grip on his bottle, his irritation turning to anger when Daeron turned to him, eyes directly with his, he knew he was watching. A slight smirk rested on his face, soon turning back to you.

You guys' party had only lasted for a few hours, because two hours later or so, Baela and you had completely worn out. To Aegon's utter delight, sometime after you guys were done with the music, you'd sat on your seat in front of Aegon and spun it so you'd be facing him. Nobody really paid attention to the both of you, Baela was sitting on one edge, talking with Jace quietly as the three boys plus her and Dany played uno. The ones behind them were either asleep or typing away, although Aegon suspected that it was just Aemond, who couldn't be less bothered with anything. You tapped his arm, waiting for him to reply as you sat on the edge of your seat, hands resting on your knees. He lifted up his glasses.

"Why didn't you dance with us?" you asked, a slight pout on your plump lips that he couldn't look away from, your breaths were slightly heavy and you were still off balance. Apparently sometime during the dancing you had downed two more shots. "Hello?" you questioned, dragging out the word when he didn't answer. "Didn't feel like it," he shrugged. He didn't know why, but he liked playing games with you. Acting indifferent just made you more incessant with him. He loved it. "So you're just going to sleep through the whole flight?" you said, a frown evident on your face. Aegon wondered if he had been a little too indifferent.

"Maybe, do you have something in mind?" he asked. You looked up at the ceiling, taking your lower lip between your teeth as you thought. Suddenly your eyes gleamed.

"Wanna watch a movie?" you asked. Aegon saw an opportunity.

"Where would we sit? Two separate seats for a laptop screen is too far," he said, you frowned again. While Aegon had known you were flirtatious, he knew you wouldn't be too bold with him. Though he basically threw you a bone of an opportunity, he wasn't sure you'd take it. And when your frown didn't budge, he sat up, face coming closer to yours as he leaned towards you, eyes boring into yours."How about you sit in my lap? The seat's big enough for both of us," you smiled at his suggestion. "Okay," you said, colour flowing onto your cheeks, fingers reaching for the laptop bag kept on your table.

Aegon laid back again, his seat had already been adjusted to the point of basically being a bed. "Come on then," he said, and you stood up, turning around and sitting on the edge of his seat before scooting towards him until your back hit his chest, you moved your head to one of his shoulders before turning around, forgetting what you were going to say when you realised how close you actually were.

"Something on your mind?" he questioned, a lazy smile settling on his face at your expression. "I-uh, yeah umm, can you see the screen?" you breathed out. He could smell the cherry lollipop you'd been eating to mask the vodka on your breath.

"Yeah, no issues," he shrugged, snaking his arms around your waist like a seatbelt. He watched you basically squirm under his gaze, your smile only growing wider as you blushed more. Aegon was loving this, he couldn't give half a flying fuck about the movie if he could be doing this with you for two more hours. Testing your limits and watching you squirm. Your eyes went back to the laptop as you opened Netflix, you'd lifted one leg up, and balanced your other hip somewhere along his thigh as your head rested on his shoulder. "What do you wanna watch?" you asked him, not turning around this time, you didn't trust yourself. 

"Anything," he simply said, one hand playing with the hem of your shirt. Your hair smelled like your shampoo, with a hint of sweat too. He'd rested his head back. "Grown-ups?" you questioned. "I don't think I know it," he said. "It's a comedy, see?" you clicked on it for him to read. He nodded, knowing he wasn't going to be watching it, but wouldn't hurt if it were a comedy. You played it, relaxing back into Aegon's chest.

You'd be giggling here and there, pointing out all of the numerous celebrities that kept showing up. It had been ten minutes into the movie when Aegon's hold slightly relaxed, his hands going back as one of his rubbed small circles on the outer side of your thigh, maybe a little close to your ass but he blamed it on your shorts. It was a very absent-minded move, but he felt you tense slightly. He saw the goosebumps rise on your flesh. A smirk grew on his lips. "Are you cold?" he asked, his fingers now grabbing your thigh as he moved his thumb across your skin slowly. You cleared your throat. "No," you squeaked. You could feel his breath on your neck, your heart had been exploding. Nonetheless, you looked back at the screen, mind focused solely on the hand on your thigh.

You'd passed out in less than halfway through the movie. Aegon's movements had at the beginning been invasive but soon became relaxing until it almost lulled you to sleep. Aegon softly called out to you, but you didn't say anything. He grabbed the laptop, turned it off and dumped it on the table next to his seat. Aegon had also gotten tired. It was around 4 am on Dragonstone right now, so pretty late for you all. You'd slightly stirred and moved to rest your head on his chest sideways as you curled your legs up slightly, cold no doubt. Aegon had one hand resting on your thigh as he drifted to sleep as well, the smell of you enough to relax him more than two Xanax.

He'd woken to find the frowning face of his brother sitting in front of him, you still in the same position, fast asleep. When his gaze didn't waver, Aegon slightly groaned. "What do you want?" he whispered, voice thick with sleep. "What are you doing?" Daeron asked, annoyed. "Sleeping," he shrugged. "She's basically a child," he said. "What does her being an infant have to do with anything?" he quipped. "Aegon you know this is wrong," Daeron huffed, sitting back in his chair, most people were still asleep.

The sky was a warm orange colour. "She's just using me for warmth, what's the big deal in that," he said, bored of the conversation. Daeron was far too annoying sometimes. "You know how she feels about you," he finally said. Though he did not want to speak out the truth. Aegon smirked. "And how are her feelings about anyone any of your concern, dear brother?" Aegon asked. "Because you'll just end up using her," he said. This didn't feel right. Aegon put his head back, eyebrows furrowed in thought. Would he actually just use you, or did he feel something for you too? His hands absent-mindedly rubbed circles on your thigh again. He closed his eyes again. He'd rather sleep than think.

[aemondsprincesss]

girl you got everyone obsessed with this dragon woman : so following your answers I think Aemond would marry her, to end the rumors even though she doesn't understand the concept of marriage and when he tries to explain she scolds him with the quick phrase: a dragon is not a slave, because her concept of a wife is the same as slavery

That's because I'M obsessed with it! You all must suffer with me now! 😂

So, let me tell you something. Aemond don't give a shit about the rumors. Not a single shit. He considers you two above it. So as long as no one says anything to his face or yours (the few fools who dare to are disposed of quickly and without mercy), he does not care about the gossip. They want to say that you are a whore? So be it. You are a rare, powerful, astonishing creature. No rumor can taint that. They want to think that you are a captive, held against your will in the lair of a bad man? Fuck it. He is a prince. No one can stop him. They already think he is a monster.

This is not to say that he will not marry you. He will, but in the future. And because of a far more important reason then end gossips.

I also don't see you scolding him when he explains the concept of marriage (sorry). You will just find it stupid. Unnecessary. Like, why do you need witnesses in a ceremony of bonding? People already know you two are together. Why do you need a piece of paper saying that you two are together? You have been together for a long time without it.

Your bond is stronger than any marriage. It is unbreakable. He is your father, your teacher, your lover. HE is yours. To love and protect until one of you leave this world. Maybe even after that.

Marriage it's just a silly little human thing. One of many that you don't understand or care for.

But if Aemond says that it is important, you will do it. Whatever. Nothing will change between you two anyway.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Tag list:

@dragonride-rs @dothrckis @risaru @omgsuperstarg @bbyaemond @witch-of-letters @chevelledahuman @xcharlottemikaelsonx @oo0lady-mad0oo @zafirina12 @lazypinkpig @theunyieldingsword @pinkyfingy @fallingleaves678 @hi-im-fan-trash @omega-horus @uselessbutinteresting @alysinwonderland-at-tea @ihatepeez

-

Click on the link below to see all of my Aemond Targaryen x Dragon!Reader works!

👇

[justrandomthoughs]

Yandere Aemond "Take Me to Church" Hozier

Headcannons/drabbles (idk what you could call this lol)

TW: death, Sexual Activity (not too explicit), unhealthy relationships

My lover's got humor

She's the giggle at a funeral

Knows everybody's disapproval

You are a near opposite to Aemond, something that shines bright and covers all with their warmth

Though some might think it’s not ladylike or proper, he loves that even in somber times you find a way to let that light of yours shine through

While he knew all eyes would be on the two of you after your muffled giggle, he couldn’t help but give a light chuckle along with you. Not even a funeral could stop your brilliance from shining and he’s just glad that you allow him to bask in your presence

I should've worshiped her sooner

If the Heavens ever did speak

She's the last true mouthpiece

Often Aemond thinks about what you’ve said to him. How he needs to learn to control his temper, and how there are times when he should move on instead of carrying a grudge. Always trying to bring out the best of him, the best the both of you know is there.

He knows you are right; he knew it even then. But he fucked up again, letting the wounds of the past effect the present. After his fight during dinner with his family, and when his eye connected with yours, that’s when it hit him fully.

The look in your eyes. Anger. Betrayal. Disappointment. Pain. Gods. How fucking stupid can he be. You were the angel on his shoulder trying to guide him to the right path, yet there he was letting the devil in him take control. He can’t possibly hope to bring you down to his depravity, but he can hope for redemption. If only you will still allow him that.

"We were born sick", you heard them say it?

Even though the relationship the two of had would often get whispered about due to Aemond’s clear obsession, he couldn’t care. And he’ll make sure you feel the same when you are underneath him.

While giving you absolute devotion, drawing orgasm and orgasm from you, he’ll tell you about how those whispers are just jealousy. If that was true—if the two of you were so wrong together—why would you be feeling so good right now.

The pleasure both of you get from another couldn’t be born out of depravity—of sickness. No. It’s clear this is a part of a greater will. The two of you are fated to burn together, to burn brightly. Blinding those who can’t handle your light and burning those who get too close.

She tells me, "Worship in the bedroom"

The only Heaven I'll be sent to

Is when I'm alone with you

True tranquility for Aemond is within your embrace, even just your presence will bring him at ease. You make him feel so calm, confident, assured. You bring out the best of him. He vows to give you everything and more as a thank you.

Though he’s often dominant in his love for you, when he hears of any request—big or small—he’s instantly switching from what he’s doing to fulfilling your wishes. If you want to sit on his face for hours—just allowing him to show you the love he holds for you—then he’s already got into position gazing at you with his blue eye. Jaw clenching and unclenching out of excitement for the meal to come.

Even after focusing on only your pleasure for the last hour, Aemond worships you solely and fervently. Not only is he alone with you—with no one else to take your attention away—he’s also giving you pleasure. He’s truly like a devotee praying to their gods, his words of devotion whispered between every kiss, lick and bite.

I was born sick, but I love it

Command me to be well

A-, Amen, Amen, Amen

Take me to church

While Aemond finds nothing wrong about his obsession with you, as you are someone who absolutely deserves devotion, he has uncertainties about himself and if he’s worthy of your grace. He’ll offer you anything as tribute. Anything to keep you beside him. His entire being is yours to command should you wish it.

By following your wishes Aemond finds spiritual awakening. Making you happy is his purpose. Being by your side is the reason he exists. Fulfilling your will is his destiny to enact. He is ecstatic that you’d even think of him as useful, as someone worth telling your desires to—confident in the knowledge that he will get it done. His self-worth is founded in you. Rest assured; thy will be done on earth so he can make it your heaven.

I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies

I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife

Offer me that deathless death

Good God, let me give you my life

If you were to ever kill Aemond, he would not hold it against you. Clearly, he must have deserved it. Even through lies, violence and screams, you can do no wrong. All will be forgiven and understood by him, as long as he is still by your side. He’d rather live with you shortly, and die by your hand, then spend the rest of his life without you. Though Aemond wants to spend the rest of your lives together, if he were to die, he’d want it to be while he’s protecting you or at your hands.

His life is only yours to end, be it by battle fighting for you, or because you will it. Either way, Aemond makes sure that even in his last moments alive his devotion to you are those filling his mind.

If I'm a pagan of the good times

My lover's the sunlight

To keep the Goddess on my side

She demands a sacrifice

Drain the whole sea

Get something shiny

Something meaty for the main course?

Again, whatever you desire you will get. Aemond makes sure of it. How else can he be assured that your light will stay with him. That you won’t orbit someone else and give them the grace he so desires to feel.

Kingdoms would be burnt for you. Why else did Vhagar, the war veteran that she is, choose Aemond? She could clearly tell that he needed one of the strongest dragons known to humanity to enact your will through Aemond. That he needed a dragon strong enough to match the burning passion he has for you. Something to match the destruction Aemond would cause if anything were to happen to you. With Vhagar, he can burn the world for you.

Should anyone displease you, their head will be yours. Aemond sees no reason that the lives he’d take for you—those who threatened you, your happiness, your will—aren’t yours to take. No action he preforms on your decree could be foul, not to him. If doing horrible acts will keep you with him, so be it. One does not get blessed by the divine without some sacrifice. He’ll prove he’s worth your grace through his limitless devotion. Nothing is too much.

No masters or kings when the ritual begins

There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin

In the madness and soil of that sad earthly scene

Only then I am human

Only then I am clean

Just the two of you. Bodies as ones. Hearts beating together. That is his heaven. While at first, he might have felt it sacrilege to dirty you with the sexual depravity he feels for you, when you give yourself to him—offering to become one with him—his once frigid self-control melts permanently. Now that he’s been offered a taste of the ambrosia that is you, he can’t live without it.

He feels bad when he takes in your teary eyed faced filled with pleasure, the thin sheen of sweat on your body, and the pathetic noises that keeps tumbling out of your mouth as he fucks you. Only momentarily, as he knows this is what you wanted. You wanted to bless his senses with your erotic state. To show him how important he is to you. Aemond, in these moments, gets a chance to possess all your senses and thoughts just like you do for him constantly.

Together, no one else matters. Nothing is more important than the smile on your face, the laughter that comes from your lips, and the gorgeous eyes that look into him like he’s the only person in the world. With you there is nothing else. Nobody else. A sanctuary against all the chaos occurring around the two of you.

[jacesbeloved]

directory.

preface. — ✷ hi, i'm lore! currently studying at a uni in the ph so pls don't expect me to post and be active here as much </3 i'm trying to balance everything as much as i can lol, writing is a stress reliever of mine !

writings. — ✷ notes. requests for hotd and got are currently closed but you can send me thirsts / asks / short drabble reqs for avatar since i'm currently obsessing over them. mainly writing for neteyam at the moment since i'm not quite confident writing for others but i'll try !

— ✷ legends: ✧ = smut | ⚘ = fluff | ∅ = angst

house of the dragons jacaerys velaryon / targaryen

⊂⊃ knight in training [⚘ , ∅]

⊂⊃ midnight escapades [ ⚘ ] ⊂⊃ unexpected visit [ ⚘ ] ⊂⊃ remember me, always [ ∅ ] ⊂⊃ prettiest of them all [ ⚘ ] ⊂⊃ to have your hand… and, [ ⚘ ] ⊂⊃ for the kingdom: one, two, three, four [ ✧, ⚘ , ∅ ] (on hiatus)

lucerys velaryon / targaryen ⊂⊃ amidst the waves: one, two, three [ ⚘ ] (finished)

aemond targaryen ⊂⊃ mirror, mirror [ ✧ ] ⊂⊃ beautiful [ ⚘ ] ⊂⊃ impatient [ ✧ ] ⊂⊃ ‘til the next holiday [ ✧ ] 

helaena targaryen ⊂⊃ a mirror into the past; dragon and wood [⚘ , ∅] ⊂⊃ tell me a story [ ⚘ ]

headcanons and quick blurbs

jace and reader fighting on who's better at high valyrian

taking care of jace when he’s drunk

jace taking care of you when you’re drunk

jace as your suitor 

sub!jace headcanons

Avatar (James Cameron) neteyam sully ⊂⊃ fucking flower [ ✧ ]

[navree]

Not sure if this has been asked, but if so then you're free to ignore this message. I was wondering if you could articulate why you like Aemond Targaryen as opposed to Daemon Targaryen. The latter seems to have more prominence in the story than the other.

I'm gonna go off the show, since that's what I'm currently more invested in when it comes to Dance stuff (I read all of F&B but the parts I reread the most are always about the Conquerors, as I love them).

So, part of it is that, quite simply, Daemon's a misogynistic ass and Aemond, as far as has been portrayed, isn't. I don't care for Daemon trying to groom his fourteen year old niece, I don't care for Daemon calling his wife misogynistic slurs when she didn't do anything except be married to him, I certainly don't care for him bashing her head in with a rock and getting away with it, I don't care for him trying to ruin Rhaenyra's reputation, I don't care for him then literally leaving her half naked in a brothel in a city notorious for being dangerous (she could have been raped, she could have been killed, the fact that she got back to the Red Keep without a scratch is a miracle), I don't care for him calling Alicent a whore because his half-rotting brother finally croaked, I don't care for his neglect of his children by Laena and even Laena herself (and I don't care for it in metaverse either, I really liked Daemon and Laena's book relationship and I hate how they screwed that AND how it's yet another example of how poorly the Velaryons, the only prominent characters of color, are being handled by the writers), and I definitely won't care for when he orchestrates Blood and Cheese to go after women who had fuck all to do with what happened to Lucerys's boring ass. He's a dick, which already isn't gonna endear me to him, and he's a sexist dick at that, and I don't like it.

Getting a bit deeper into it, my dislike of Daemon also comes from the fact that there's just nothing there. I've complained about this before, but everything that's actually interesting about Daemon seems to come primarily from stuff admitted about him after the fact or from Matt Smith's own acting choices beyond the script. In the actual writing of his character, he's an asshole and he wants to be king and he has a sexual obsession with his niece who he's known since she was a baby; that's it. It's left to the audience to then lean into Matt Smith's choices for the character, extrapolate what we can from creator interviews and some pretty heavy subtext, and then try to craft something ourselves. And even canon events about Daemon that I could get invested in, like his relationship with Nettles (problematic? yes, but it still tickles my fancy because there's a Lot there), just hasn't happened yet and isn't enough to get me pre-invested.

That's not the case with Aemond. The stuff about Aemond I enjoy and that endear me to him as a character, like his struggles with bullying, his bond with Vhagar, his contentious but ultimately loyal relationship with Aegon, his love for his mother, his internal issues surrounding justice denied and the need for retribution, even just his basic characterization in the four episodes we've seen him in, those are in the script. Those are integral parts of his character, that are present and visible and impactful to other characters and the story at large in the broader narrative. There is actual substance to Aemond as a character in a way there just isn't as Daemon. And even Daemon is going to be more "prominent" due to his connection to Rhaenyra, the storyline at the ready for Aemond is FAR more interesting than Daemon's. Daemon in season two is going to orchestrate the worst thing that happens in the Dance and then bounce around Westeros doing God knows what, the only thing I'm looking forward to from him are any interactions with Alys Rivers, but because I'm excited for her, not him. Aemond, on the other hand, has a lot of good set up. Because of his actions, he created an accident that he tried to avoid that has had profound repercussions on his family, and is tied to a horrible act that is going to affect the people closest to him. How is he going to deal with his emotions regarding his own culpability? How much hate and blame is he going to place on Daemon? On Rhaenyra? How will this impact his relationships with the people affected, his mother and his sister and his brother? How is this going to duel with his feelings of superiority, especially once he becomes Aegon's regent? What's gonna motivate him to take the regency but also never allow himself to be called king and remain steadfast for his brother? Is he going to enjoy it or not? We seem to be getting more stuff with him and Criston, how's that gonna be affected by Blood and Cheese and their subsequent military campaign together?

Like, see? There's so much more richness available for Aemond's character, because there's so much more to Aemond's character than Daemon's. Daemon may be more prominent, yes, but he's incredibly shallow on a writing level, and combined with the fact that he's mostly a shitty person, he becomes something I dislike (and I love characters who are shitty people, my favorite character in The Magnus Archives is Peter Lukas and I constantly blab about how I want his cruel sadism to be given more attention by the fandom). So prominence doesn't really factor into it for me, because there's just too much working against Daemon beyond that, and conversely, too much in Aemond's favor.

[emilykaldwen]

Fic Rec List 2

I cannot find the link for my first fic rec list. I'M SORRY! Anyway here's another one. These are on AO3 because that's where I read 99% of my fic but if I can find a tumblr handle for people, I will add it! This isn't just HotD/GoT fic, I also included a few other fandoms should anything strike your fancy!

World on Fire - @theothermaidoftarth - In which Nettles is sent North after the Battle of the Gullet. It's Cregan x Nettles! SIGN ME THE FUCK UP! If you love rare pairs, please follow this author. She writes fantastic stories and I just really love their work.

Inertia - @lesbian-kyoru - With the Cat’s confinement approaching, Kyo and Tohru attempt to avoid their feelings as ineffectively as possible. Hi yes do you love Fruits Basket? Do you love a good friends with benefits AU with two emotionally fucky individuals in Tohru and Kyo? Then please run, do not walk, to read this lovely series. I was introduced to this via someone bookbinding this series on the renegade guild and devoured it (I reblogged this series ages ago screaming in my tags)

Something Old - Ducks - Miserable after Oz's departure, Willow casts a spell to have her will done. Predictably, it goes awry, having some interesting affects on Buffy and Angel. A re-imagining of the Buffy episode "Something Blue". One of the first really fandomy fics I got obsessed over (back when Ducks ran their own site, which might still be up?) anyway yeah, it's Buffy x Angel, which teen me was utterly obsessed with and one of the first fics that really ever entered into my mind that you could write long ass series AU fics. There's also an eventual Blade crossover in the final part.

A Game of High Stakes - In_Dreams - In theory, the task is simple: kill Draco Malfoy. In practice, putting a curse through the Dark Lord's favoured lieutenant will take everything Hermione has―especially since he's trying to kill her, too. Even more so when the lines between them start to blur. Sometimes, the only way out is through. Hello yes it's another dramoine fake marriage/real marriage AU but it's so good, really goes into the fuckiness of the war, I just devoured it in a weekend.

Taken - Wheater - An AU set after 2x15: Elijah succeeds in kidnapping Elena, Katherine is out of the tomb and the Salvatore brothers have one hell of a mess to fix. Sometimes you have no choice but to make a deal with the devil. If you can get the devil to make a deal with you… Another oldie but goodie for if you liked your obscure TVD ships. And I was such an Elena x Elijah fan (also Tyler and Elena too pls)

Kingdoms At War - deathwalker - What if Ned Stark wasn't executed at the Great Sept of Baelor? Instead, what if, he had been removed from Kingslanding before Joffrey could give the order for his head? What impact would this have had on the Game of Thrones? It's a Robb x Marg, Ned Lives AU y'all and one day, one day it's gonna be completed and it's going to be amazing. So far it's sitting at just under 700k words, and Marg and Robb are about to take on King's Landing and my body is ready.

Parlour Trick - @stannisfactions - What if Aemond was born with dragon features and hidden away, and Helaena is his bride. Hi yes I scream about this story a lot, Kinderhook is one of my all time favorites, and not only is this fic amazing, but they have a ton of TG fics. A lot of the content is of the angstier variety, as well as a lot of dub con so please mind your triggers.

Aesthetic Chills - sloelimbs - An Eddie/Chrissy fix it picking up where Vecna started, and the Party's adventure taking a different turn. - It's an Edissy fix it fic and just very thoughtful, very moody, very everything. Pretty sure this was the only ST fic I read and it sits in the bookmarks for a reason.

[hazashiovo]

will there be part 3 🥹🥹 https://at.tumblr.com/hazashiovo/imagine-beeing-aemonds-enemy-yet-his-biggest/nafm7hxwzf5j

It took me a while to think of something to write so I apologize. I also have to warn you I never read the book or any of ASOIAF so I will invent my own plot. Also blood and cheese doesn't happen here.

Thank you for reminding me and due to a few requests, I'm introducing you part 3 of the series!

Aemond Targaryen X reader!

imagine being Aemond's enemy yet his biggest obsession part 3!

Ps: english isn't my first language🧜‍♀️

You left.

You left Aemond in the middle of the night not allowing the white haired prince to do anything about it.

He was a fool for thinking he was able to take you, break you.How did he not see that?

God, he was furious. He made a vow to catch you, and never let you go again , right through his fingers.

-

You escaped.beeing trapped in there, made you feel like your mind would go bad, but now you're free, and soon you'll be home with your mother.

You thought about what you would say to your mother and father.would you mention how you fucked the prince your brother left without and eye?

Thoughts were clouding your mind, replaying the night of your escape. A dirty feeling all over your body, but it didn't bother you,strangely.

Your mother's daughter as one would say.

Your dragon was rested, and even fed. Ready to take you home.

A day and half took you to get to dragon stone.

You were exhausted, hungry, and tired. Physically and mentally.

The moment you landed you felt light headed.

You managed to find the war room. Opening the doors,all the eyes on you.

You didn't catch your mother's teary eyes, only her hold on you. You didn't hear your fathers curses towards the greens, only felt him holding you up, not letting you fall.

Than it all went blank.

-

Aemond was scolded. A lot.

He was tired of hearing his mother yell at him for what felt like hours.

The boy could only imagine how his older brother would snicker behind his back, knowing that at the time, he wasn't the source of his mother's rage, but his young perfect brother.

At one point he was allowed to return to his duties, yet,his mother remained angry.

He got news, you managed to return to dragon stone.

His jaw clenched in anger as he crumbled the paper your whereabouts were written.

You fooled him, and he will not let it slide.

Rhaenyra's hand caressed your face as your father was pacing around the room, angry from the sound of his stomping.

Slowly,your eyes open. They twitch as light greets them.

Your mother was first to notice you were awake.

-My love!-

The queen hugs you.

Once she let's go, Your father at your side.

-my sweet, sweet girl..-

his hands carres your head as he holds you tight in his arms.

-Mother... Father, I missed you.-

Your voice managed to break the silence.

The way they're looking at you, gods it makes you feel guilty.

-Luke,he arrived, didn't he?-

You try to get up from the bed, worry filling your whole body.

-Yes, don't get up. Your whole body is full of bruises. I'll kill them, those fuckin cunts that play pretend with the kingdom.-

Daemons now angry voice raises.

At the castle, you didn't even bother checking for your wounds. It was true. One look at your arm convinced you. It was blue and purple in many places.

Daemon was pissed. So was Rhaenyra.

You talked with you parents a bit after leaving to rest, and from what you heard Luke was alright.

You did good protecting your little brother,a smile crept on you face.

/next day/

Getting up from the bed, you were meet with a servant ready to prepare you for breakfast. You gotta admit, you were pretty hungry.

Once at the table you sat down.

The morning went great, but a thought kept. Creeping your mind.

-I want to learn to fight.-

Your voice broke the silence in the dining hall.

A snicker was heard from your father's side.

-what?-

Rhaenyra rose her head from her plate.

-last time, I lost because I wasn't good enough. I want to be prepared this time.-

The confidence was clear and loud in you and your voice.

It looks like you let your mother wordless, so your father decided to answer for her.

-You're right. You'll start as soon as your body is fully healed.-

He returned to his food.

Your mother still quiet.

-I'll be fine, mother, I promise-

You reached your hand over to her, reassuring the woman.

/6 Months later/

Swords clashed, mud on your shoes and pants. Sweat dripping from your forehead and adrenaline pumping in your veins.

-Just give up daughter, I got you.-

Daemon's teasing manner annoyed you further.

You landed a hit on his leg and quickly spun behind him. Unfortunately you didn't manage to finish h of as his sword found your neck.

You roll your eyes and groan in frustration.

Gods does he love annoying and teasing you.

-you won,Kepa-

You drop your sword on the ground.

The greens and the blacks were now fighting for Harenhall, and you were going to be there with your father, on the battlefield. It's your duty as a heir to be a brave and strong queen once your mother is gone.

News of the rival army , you heard your father and mother planning a strategy.

Of course , your mother would never let you leave.but Your father? He knows.

At night fall, a part of the army left to retrieve Harenhall.

You being in there.

It was quick, your army was good, so it didn't take long before half or more of them were no more. Especially with Daemon, the rogue prince as a leader.

Your job was to take a part from the men and make your way inside.

Finishing up pretty quick, you found the main hall.

You plunged your sword in one of the guard's chest. You took the sword away from his body and cleaned it from the remaining blood on its metal.

-So we meet again, Bastard whore.-

The voice rang trough your ears. He slowly walked away from the pillar he was before.

-Uncle.-

You clutched your sword tightly, keeping it close to your body.

Aemond was unimpressed,spiteful and he felt rage, rage that you played and escaped him that night. Rage that you used him, rage that you made him feel those sickening thoughts, just for you.

His eye never left yours, sternly watching your every move, like a mad man.

-Came here to be captured again? Whore? Or did you not have enough last time?-

Aemond's rude remark already made you feel annoyed.

-You're right, rude of me to not say my farewells, kepus.-

You teased, making sure your energy matched his.

The Prince's jaw tensed in anger as he reached for his sword, attached to his hip.

-If it's a duel you're looking for I'm all in, kepus, but it will end up completely different. I promise.-

A confident tone was easily found in your voice, fearless, daring.

Aemond only smirked, he seemed to be taking your whole appearance up.

-I will win, and I will keep you as my slave for as long as i desire. Be sure, that I will treat you however I like, niece-

Your face scrunched up in disgust, but never have you let your tough persona fall and crumble, especially in the eyes of this man.

-I will be the judge of that.-

With that being said, Aemond launched at you. Why was he fighting so reckles? He usually calculated his steps, moves, but now all he went for was the win.

Your body skilfully ignored his blows, even landing some small hits.

He was heavy, after all, he was a man,but you? You were fast and sly as a viper. Just like you were taught, you waited for the right of openings to hit.

Aemond had that crazy look in his eye, a vengeful one, a manic one.

Your swords clashed together, faces inches apart.

-Give up, and I will be merciful, Bastard.-

The prince spoke in a hushed voice, breathless even.

You clenched your jaw, shaking your head in a 'no' manner.

-Nah, not as long as I breathe.-

You ducked as he almost landed a hit on your head, making quick work , you snuck behind him, landing a deep cut in his upper tigh. Aemond groaned in pain, a hand on his wound where you just cut him.

A kick in the back of the knee had him down and bleeding.

-What'd i tell ya?-

You kicked away his sword, sending it a away.

A foot slammed on his hand, putting force and keeping it glued to the ground,you heard him groan once again.

-You know, this reminds me of the time you had me in the same position you are now.-

You laughed, quite sadistically if someone were to hear you. It did remind you of back then if you were honest.

You were to busy focusing on his face , his eye, his expression that you didn't notice what he was doing until you felt it.

He plunged his dagger right in your side. Pain closed all your senses.

You opened your mouth to scream, but no sound left it. you backed away from him.

One hand at your side, the other holding your sword, barely.

The blood you were losing was letting itself be felt, light headed, dizzy, sick. All of them at once.

-You forgot one thing, I hate losing. Especially what is rightfully mine.-

Aemond kicked you in the side, making your pain 10 times harder. You tried getting up, but he kicked you again.

The prince lowered himself, now eye to eye with you.

-I warned you. Niece.-

Feeling something close to your hand, you made the best to pick it.

He stood so close to you. Before he could mutter another word, you hit him in the head, a rock is what you felt, a big one.

You saw him holding his now bleeding side of the head, the same look you had on this moment. No longer after, he collapsed.

It took you a lot of strength to get up. But you did.

Once you found one of your soldiers, you told him to grab some people and capture the white haired prince.

A month later

Aemond hadn't heard word of you ever since he was captured. Not a visit,nothing.

His wounds started healing, that was good. Maybe soon enough he can escape from here. See his mother and sister again.

He was shocked to see you enter his cell. Even though he stabbed you a king time ago, you still had bandages around your waist. The one he held that sweet night.

Aemond wore no shirt, he prefered doing so, but he did have black pants on, also his eye patch was not here.Meant to humiliate him, surely that was your father's doing.

-Yea, it looks pretty fucked up.-

Your voice startled him, to lost in thoughts to remember you were there to.

-Enjoying your new home kepus?-

You scaned the cell, at least the greens offered you a room fit for a royal back then.

Aemond scoffed, glaring at you unmoved.

-Why are you here, to make fun of me? Torture me? Bastard whore.-

A chuckle rose from you, you didn't miss his bitchy behavior.

-you should really be careful and hold your tongue when you speak to me. After all... I am heir of the queen That doesn't allow for you to be killed.-

Aemond rolled his eye, still as sassy as ever. You continued, answering his previous question.

-Perhaps, or perhaps I'm here to question you.-

His brow quirked in curiosity.

It was a strange thing, a strange reason for you to low yourself here to question him.

-I have nothing to lose.-

The white haired answered, barely audible.

-Why do you hate me?-

With that said, he seemed more interested in anything else than you, your figure or your presence.

-Don't ignore me.-

Aemond was taken back by your sudden demanding attitude.

He hummed in annoyance.

-How else can I explain to you, you are a bastard. The daughter of a rascal who's playing against my brother. Is that a reason good enough for you?-

The prince was quick to finding reasons. But it didn't phase or satisfy you.

-No.-

Once his eye found yours he seemed taken aback by you answer.

-I asked, why do you hate me. Not my Mother, it was long before that, uncle.-

He had time to think. Why did he hurt you? Why did he insult you, why couldn't he fund the nerve to just kill you and why did he keep thinking on the night you escaped. The way your body for so well with his.

He was wordless.

-Answer me!-

You yelled as he stood up.

-i hate you because whatever you do, whatever you did you always got away!I hate you because you had everyone to care for you! I hate you because I seem to feel so different whenever you're around, like you're supposed to be mine, like a caged bird unable to escape.-

With each word he got closer, until there were only inches between you two.

You didn't know what to say, from what he said he was jealous, and obsessed at the same time.

You opened your mouth to say something but nothing came out.

-Good enough reasons now? Niece.-

A deep breath was taken into your chest, now you didn't know what to think anymore.

The memory was distant, but the way he was so close to you now, it reminded you of the night you shared.

-Now my turn, you could have escape so many ways. So why did you chose what you choose.-

You didn't know, or you did but you didn't wanna admit it. It was a thing you always had for the prince, the way he would look at you, you couldn't read him back then, or the snarky comments. Some would call you a masochist.

-That is my business.-

By now, all you build up had fall upon you, no more tough and brave persona, but a flustered little girl seeing her crush.

Before you could end the visit Aemond grabbed you from behind, his body basically glued to yours.

-We're not done here, sweet little thing.-

You could feel yourself heating up like an oven. Aemond never used those kind of pet names with you, only insults and rude remarks.

Your back was faced to his chest, one of his hand layed on your hip, as the other held your jaw, it was soft, not like when you fought, but in a lovers way.

He turned your head enough for your faces to be not even inches apart. Lips slightly parted.

This time, the look in his eye was not spite or anger. It was something more, something more intimate.

The way he looked at you... Not even a fool could deny Aemonds feelings towards the niece he claims to hate.

You wanted to pull away, to push him and leave, but it seemed your body was frozen, stil as a statue.

-Why do you do this uncle? Play this game of cat and mouse.-

You finally managed to mutter some words.

-You were meant to be mine ever since the beginning, sweet thing.-

He made you doubt.

Was he about to use the same tactic you used on him to escape?

Was he lying to you?

Was he-

The thoughts that circled in your head were suddenly stopped the moment you felt his lips on yours.

They were soft, and the kiss wasn't forced or rough.

-I can't do this.-

You spoke, trying to move forward from him, but he would just not let go of you.

-Don't go, not again sweet thing.-

The prince pleaded, soft voice and soft kisses trailed your neck.

He was in love with his obsession.

End of story bitchesss!

So this is the last part and I won't be writing any for this fix, but you can check out my other fics🐀

I'm so dumb cause like at the middle of writing I taught I saved me draft and I didn't and guess who almost gave up. But fortunately I improved some of my main ideas and wrote them here.

I rlly hope you enjoyed this cause I BARELY made something in my tiny little brain. 😶

[childotkw]

hi jordan! extremely happy to be part of your little community and watch you receive the love you deserve! 💘

Harry Potter and HOTD/GOT have been my favorite books since forever and I couldn't be more excited to read your next story.

now, since I'm a hopeless romantic, i was wondering if there will be any? i know it's a silly question when you take in consideration all the snippets and ideas you've shared with us until now, but at the same time i can't help but think how lucemond would play out in your story.

wish you the best 🥰

Hello sweetheart! I’m happy to have you here as well 💕💕 You’re very sweet!

I’m kinda nervous but also kinda excited to try writing for a new fandom! HP has pretty much been it for me, aside from one or two dips in other fandoms - but HOTD is seeping into my little brain 😂 I can’t wait to start dropping some chapters lmao

As for the romance in ruination - the main pairing is obviously lucemond, but there will be background relationships as well.

For lucemond, I’m actually going to be mean and make it take a bit before they actually get to see each other face to face again. I want both of them to be simmering in their emotions for a while, building up their obsession and fascinating with each other; to let the strange, pulsating connection between them to fester, separate, before coming together once more.

For Aemond, those days when he thought Lucerys was dead haunt him. He had spent years with his anger and bitterness towards his nephew acting as his guiding star. It’s what he built so much of himself on, and with Lucerys so suddenly taken from the world, by his own actions…there is no satisfaction. No vindication. Instead he’s adrift, his fire all but extinguished.

But finding out Lucerys survived? That his nephew, in spite of Aemond and Vhagar and the fucking gods themselves, had clawed his way back to life? It brings that fire roaring back, a hundred times stronger than before. Lucerys is suddenly all he can think of - because it had to mean something. Aemond needed it to mean something.

And on the other side of things, Lucerys’ slow metamorphosis is directly guided by his anger towards his uncle, the rage he feels - and betrayal, a small part of him can’t help but think - since that night.

Aemond is now the force behind Lucerys’ drive. Every action he takes, every limit he pushes himself over, every training session, or every time he flies on Cannibal and not Arrax - it all trickles back to his uncle.

That level of obsession, coupled with the trauma, coupled with the tangled and confusing emotions that come with growing from a boy to a man - it means more often than not, it’s not hatred he feels when he thinks of Aemond.

Their reunion, as such, will be very emotionally charged - with Aemond honing in on Lucerys like a thirsty man on a glass of water; and Lucerys wanting to put his teeth to Aemond’s neck and bite (but not necessarily with the intent to kill).

[farity]

Obsession, part 13

"I'm so glad you're going to be there, I never know what to say to people."

You smiled at Helaena. "People like to talk about themselves, more than anything. Just ask them something and let them ramble on."

Helaena ate some of her oatmeal. "I still think they should change the name. Flea Bottom Hospital is rather horrible, don't you think?' she mused. "Maybe it should be Ladybug Hospital, or-"

"Yeah, who the hell names a hospital after an insect's ass?"

You laughed at Aegon.

When Aemond walked in, you rolled your eyes at him. He was wearing the concert t-shirt.

"That's got to be the coolest thing you have ever worn," Aegon commented. "So I'm guessing it's not yours."

"According to my wife," Aemond said, kissing the top of your head, "she buys her concert shirts two sizes too big in case they shrink."

"I do! You never know if they'll be child sized after the first wash."

"Aegon, don't forget the meeting later."

Aegon groaned, "how can I possibly when you add shit to my calendar to remind me every twenty fucking minutes?"

"I do what needs to be done."

* * * * *

The next afternoon you got ready for the charity event, curling your hair, taking twice as long with your makeup. You just wanted to be at your best as a representative of the family.

When you were finally satisfied, you put on the earrings and turned to find Aemond staring at you from the doorway.

"Wow."

You made a worried face at him. "Do you think this will be okay? I don't want to disappoint your mother."

He shook his head slowly. "You are not going to disappoint anyone. You look amazing." He peered in at the side of your face. "Are those the Valyrian earrings?"

"Yeah, the shop had these great replicas, I think they look great with the dress."

Aemond smiled at you. "They do. You're going to be great, and mom and Hel will be with you." He leaned down to kiss the side of your neck. "I don't want to smudge your lipstick," he murmured, placing soft kisses on your skin. "You look great. You smell delicious. Go have fun."

You wanted to stay in his arms, to be honest, not completely convinced that representing the family at such a public event was the best idea, but it was one of Alicent's causes and she had asked you to be there, so there you would be.

* * * * *

"The Boltons, the Grimms," Aegon said, "neither can pull off something big, not even joining forces. I mean, the attempt on Helaena was one thing, but neither could have supplied father with that kind of firepower."

Aemond rubbed his eye. "I thought maybe the Martells, but blowing stuff up is not their style. But all signs point to that illiterate fuck in Storm's End."

Aegon's jaw dropped. "Baratheon?"

"He has the numbers, he hates us-"

"He hates you, since you declined to marry any of his daughters," Aegon laughed. "I mean, I don't fucking blame you, but yeah, he'd be up for a little revenge action. But why would father go to him?"

"Who else would he go to? Didn't some Baratheon call Rhaenys "the queen who never was"? That pretty much doomed any goodwill between the Velaryons and the Baratheons. It probably made father happy to hear that."

Aemond tapped his fingers on the desk. "If father wanted to get back at me, he'd go to someone who doesn't use our suppliers, someone who backed him when he became head of the House, and someone who doesn't particularly like me."

"Borros motherfucking Baratheon."

"He's gone quiet since father's untimely death, but I'm keeping tabs on him."

Aegon was silent for a few moments. "So tell me, little brother. How is married life?"

"Fuck off, Aegon."

Aegon laughed again. "I must say-"

"You don't."

"If you ask me-"

"I didn't."

"She's not exactly who I pictured for you."

Aemond raised an eyebrow. "I'm probably going to regret asking, but just who did you picture for me?"

"Some cold hearted bitch who'd walk around covered in diamonds, and once a month you two would have your pre-scheduled sexual congress before wiping off and returning to your separate bedrooms."

"Your imagination is a frightening thing, brother."

"So is your mind, Aemond, but it keeps us safe, so I'm okay with that." Aegon looked at his watch. "Oh fuck off, I know I haven't exercised today. Fuck this tech bullshit."

Aemond took a deep breath. "And on that note, I have to get back to work."

* * * * *

"You look so pretty," Helaena said, sipping at her wine. "Everyone is looking at you."

You blew out a breath. "I'm trying not to think about that. And I absolutely love your dress, Hel," you added, seeing Helaena smiled. She was wearing a light blue dress with tiny embroidered butterflies on it, her long hair parted on the side.

"Well, you look great," she reiterated, "plus you're wearing the Smoke of Valyria earrings. I mean, I think it's been decades since anyone wore them."

You looked at her. "The lady from the shop added them to my bag. They're replicas."

Helaena smiled at you and Alicent came up behind her. "I would like you to meet some people. Helaena, I believe there is someone here to see you."

You glanced quickly to where Alicent was looking and saw Cregan Stark, looking gorgeous in a suit, and gave Helaena a small smile before you followed your mother-in-law over to a table where a couple of older ladies sat.

"Oh, here she is," one of them, a blonde with icy eyes said, "Aemond's bride. And here we thought he'd never marry." You instantly disliked her, but smiled and shook her hand. She began asking you questions about what you did, who your family were, where you'd studied, and Alicent quickly steered the conversation to the woman's older son, who had just been kicked out of yet another University. "It is so difficult to find good schooling, I mean, Joffrey is such a sweet boy, so kind and gentle, why would they ever expel him?"

The woman next to the blonde cleared her throat nervously while the blonde stared daggers at Alicent. "Indeed, yes. It is lovely to meet you, dear, I'm Saera Swyft. We are sending you and Aemond a wedding gift, I hope it's to your liking."

"What is it, a barrel of corn?" The blonde snapped, laughing to herself. "Maybe you should have your granddaughter sing for them."

"We are very proud of our girl," Saera said. "I must say, those earrings are breathtaking on you."

The blonde stood, and as she walked past you, she whispered, "singers are barely better than whores."

You smiled at Saera. "She really has some great songs."

* * * * *

"I met Cersei Lannister," you said as you took off the heels in the walk-in closet you shared with Aemond. The man had so many clothes it was ridiculous. Who needed over twenty white dress shirts?

"And you survived," he said sarcastically from the door frame, "the woman is a nightmare. Come here," he added, his voice turning soft.

You turned, having changed into pajamas. "What?"

He reached out, grabbed you and pulled you to him. "I said, come here." He kissed you, lips lingering over yours, and you smiled. "I didn't want to mess up your lipstick earlier."

You laughed as he lifted you up, walking over to the sitting area facing the fireplace and then sat with you on his lap.

"I hear you were splendid, everyone was taken with you."

You shrugged. "I don't remember half the names, other than Cersei and Lady Swyft."

"They don't matter," he added, pressing another kiss to your jaw. "I'm proud of you," he murmured. "I know this has been a lot of change in a short amount of time."

"Thank you. That means a lot to me."

"You mean a lot to me," he said quietly, and pressed his forehead against your temple.

You said nothing, letting him hold you, your emotions swirling inside you as you sank against him, enjoying his warmth and strength.

* * * * *

The next day you had to pick up your stuff from work. Your boss was surprisingly accommodating, but told you she wanted to do your exit interview in person, and you felt you at least owed her that, given that you hadn't given her any notice.

You asked the two guards to wait in the car for you and walked in to the building, heading straight to your boss's office. There weren't many people in the office, which was pretty normal, and when you walked into her office, having texted her to verify what time you were meeting, there was a man sitting across the desk from her.

Your boss looked terrified, and you immediately took a step back.

The man turned, holding a gun aimed straight at you.

"Well, hello there. I'm Ramsay Bolton."

* * * * *

TAG LISTS

All my fics

@arryn-nyx   @ girlwith-thepearlearring   @greenowlfactif  @hydrationqueensworld    @megzdoodle   @melsunshine  @queenofshinigamis     @throughgoeshamilton   @travelingmypassion    @watercolorskyy

Aemond fics only

@hb8301   @kaemond-zafiro    @arcielee   @castellomargot   @m-indkiller   @urmomsgirlfriend1 @lunamoonbby   @aemonds-fire   @tsujifreya   @coffeeobsessedtrencher  @n4tforlife  @kazuyatokue

TAG LIST FOR THIS FIC

@dc-marvel-girl96 @ammo23 @shelbyteller @toodlesxcuddles

@moonlightfoxx @dahlias-and-marigolds

@zenka69 @julczimozart @wolflinkpaws @shygardengalaxy @wintrr13 @thatsgayyouknow @wackyharpy @jennifer0305 @dancingqueen0 @gemini-mama

Thank you for reading, for your likes and reblogs, they all mean so much to me!!!

My Ko-fi

[cambion-companion]

Hello darling, I think I've reached new depths in my Aemond obsession and I think you're the only one that can understand me xDDD I'm literally about to buy myself a late Christmas present in form of earrings that, at least to me, really look like something Aemond would give his lady wife. I've also seen so many beautiful ones with green stones that 100% Alicent would wear, sadly they were out of stock. I'm still hanging on my last straw of sanity here, but most probably I will break very soon and buy them. Question: on a 0-10 scale how fucked up am I? XD Hugs and kisses, your stories give me life!

I mean....someone got me a sapphire necklace for Christmas because everyone knows my Aemond obsession sooooo hahaha I would be the last person to call you crazy! Get that drip!

[wh0lemilk0vich]

Was batting around ideas with @bucknastysbabe

And like, listen, I'm still obsessed with chubby!Aegon

I see him as a fat indolent miserable spoiled little brat. And he's particularly in a mood lately because Aemond isn't fucking him anymore because he thinks it's too gay, and he's trying to score with Helaena. But then there's Jace who's a nervous scared little virgin cuck whose only redeeming quality is that he has a horse cock. So Aeg wants some, and Jace is super into it cause Aegon's whole body basically feels like a titty, and the only ones he's actually seen before are his cousin's, and Aegon's are just as good if not better.

And Aegon has such low self esteem and mommy issues that he acts like a huge brat to get a reaction out of people, desperate for the kinky, gut wrenching sense of arousal he gets from feeling thoroughly humiliated. Aegon bitches Jace out so much the first few times because he's got a fucking hair trigger and keeps cumming too soon. (Side note there's definitely a time where all Jace wants to do is suck Aegon's tits and jerk off). But when Jace can finally hold it long enough to do something with it, he tries to get all masc and Dom like "Oh y-yeah. You like that don't you, you fucking whor-uh you s-slut!(?)" But he's completely missing and just fucking Aegon's thighs or just frotting between his cheeks. So Aegon fucking tears into him telling him how pathetic he is, and how that donkey dick is wasted on him, so Jace finally snaps and pops off and absolutely gives it to him, so much of that good good guy twisting humiliation Aegon is begging for, and he's finally satisfied. So Aegon needs to train Jace to keep doing that, and the only way he knows how is by being a fat spoiled bitch 🤤🥵🤤🥵

Anybody wanna help me keep this going? 👀👀