venmondiese

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݁ 𓂃 ˖ i've received many reqs from y'all lil angels over the last few days, some old n some new .. ♡ if i haven't responded to ur req right away, pls don't worry − i'm just working through others at the moment .. ฅ ฅ i promise to start going thru my mailbox n start fulfilling/posting ur reqs this week ♡.. i also just wanna thank u all for ur lovely submissions .. ݁ ִֶָ☾ ݂ ˖ it makes my heart feel v warm n sweet .. ♡ ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི n pls know that my reqs are always open n y'all may send in more than 1x req .. ✉️ now it's time for this lil kitten to get to writing, heheh .. 🐈‍⬛ ♡ ily angels ⸝⸝ mwaah .. ≽^•˕• ྀི≼

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I want to marry Aemond. Can you imagine being loved by him? He would kill for you.

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𝘈𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘰𝘳

hope to see him wearing it in s3

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THIS WAS SO GOOD

i love subby aemond 🤭🤭

Aemond is definitely submissive for his older sister.

okayyy i won't lie... subby!Aemond is hot as hell. but subby!Aemond AND older sister!reader????? gods now I'm s(creaming) 😩😩

btw... Helaemond is one of my fav ships and I admit that imo Aemond can be submissive to Helaena sometimes too!!!

⚠️: SMUT CONTENT. female!reader, sub!Aemond Targaryen, Targcest (younger brother/older sister), oral sex (female receiving), cunnilingus, face-sitting, praise kink, face slapping, asphyxiation, infidelity, cheating, mentioned Aegon II Targaryen, reader is married to Aegon. no use of y/n.

"Mmm, you look so fucking hot like this." Your sweet voice echoed through the chambers as did the wet noises between your legs, where your younger brother Aemond was working eagerly.

One of your hands held the headboard of the bed while the other gripped the prince's silver hair, fingers tangled between the soft strands to force him to move his head according to your naughty needs.

You had been like this for hours, riding on your brother's face as if he were nothing more than a cheap filthy whore from some brothel of Street of Silk. Hours feeling his tongue inside your tight cunt and the tip of his nose rubbing against the swollen little bud. He was savoring those juices as if they were the best feast he had ever experienced in his entire life.

"Such a good boy, are not you?" You purred, looking down and seeing how flushed his face was, needing more air to breathe properly.

He said nothing, though, knowing that you would be furious if he stopped the licks without permission — the mark of your palm on his cheek was a proof of his earlier carelessness.

A sly smile appeared on your lips when you noticed his good eye filling with tears due to lack of oxygen, while the glow of the sapphire that filled the empty eye socket was accentuated by the flickering flames of the candles around your chambers. The chambers of Aemond’s older sister. Aegon’s sister-wife.

Or rather... The chambers you shared with Aegon, but also the one you always brought Aemond there every time your brother-husband chose to spend the nights with random women who were paid to pretend they liked what he did during sex.

Meanwhile, Aemond was more than willing to almost die between his older sister's thighs.

"Thank you, sister..." He whispered with rosy cheeks, lungs practically aching when you allowed him to stop eating you out so he could recover his oxygen.

You still held him there, with your core dripping just below a part of his scar. "If you make me squirt on your pretty face, I will let you fuck my cunt later."

Without even blinking, Aemond nodded quickly, letting you pull his scalp and bring him back to your flushed, warm cunt, feeling you grind your clit up and down, making a sticky mess on his nose and lips.

Oh, how he loved being his older sister's submissive little slut.

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the babygirliest babygirl of babygirls

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“A harp can be a dangerous as a sword, in the right hands.” | bruised fruit

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Doctor said I need 100ccs dryhumping or I'll die if you even Care

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Piratemond 🖤💚

For @Hotd2025Bingo✨️Prompt:free square

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Ewan Mitchell Safe SpaceTM

I won't be sharing or responding to people that send private photos of Ewan.

His profession is acting, his private life is private. Learn the difference.

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WHO IN EWANVERSE pt2

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laying facedown on the floor i want him SO BADDDDDD

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i hope this is how yall feel about my fics

And if not, I will try me best to do better

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If I was a Mom and had to see my son's eye in a bowl I too would go crazy.

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the self-indulgent fanfiction will continue until morale improves

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I LOVE HOW YOU WRITE AEMOND !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

──𝑎.𝑡. ┆ 𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑠𝑠 &. 𝑑𝑎𝑑𝑑𝑦, part: 3. ♡

𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒. hi ♡ .. sry this is a lil late − to make it up to u angels, i'll be posting another part later on tonight or tmrw .. ૮꒰ྀི ⸝⸝․ ․⸝⸝ ྀི꒱ა

you don't know why he looks at you like this, as if he's starving, making you feel like you're the only thing in the room that matters.

you're just sipping your diet pepsi with a pink straw, swinging your legs while perched on the edge of his marble kitchen island. the tip of your straw is coated in a layer of vanilla cupcake flavored lipgloss (your boyfriend's favorite), and aemond's watching like it's some kind of religious experience. his eye—sharp, silver, obsessive—doesn't stray.

you feel your cheeks burn, your fingers tightening around the can.

"what's the matter, daddy?" you coo softly, sweet as a ripened peach. you tilt your head, innocent. teasing. "you're staring again."

aemond smirks, stepping closer. always in black. always too sleek for the light. but you—you're wearing soft pink today, with your hair curled just the way he likes it. everything about you whispers sugar, while he's all smoke and sin. you don't match, and maybe that's the whole point.

"you look like something i'm not allowed to touch," he murmurs, voice like silk dragged over glass. "but I'm going to anyway."

your breath catches, heart fluttering.

he sets a ring-clad hand on your bare knee, eyes flicking to the little heart charm on your anklet. he bought that for you in paris. said it reminded him of the way your lips looked when you pouted at him, always needy for his kisses. and now he's crouching a bit, tilting his head like a predator would—slow, reverent—as if you're made of spun sugar and powdered stars.

"you've got no idea what you do to me, sweet girl," he breathes against your thigh. "all pink, all mine."

you shiver, giggling softly, breathless. "i'm just drinking soda."

"no," he hums, dragging a finger up the inside of your leg. "you're sipping diet pepsi in my kitchen, wearing those stupid little bows in your hair—like you don't know you've got me wrapped around your dainty little finger."

you blink up at him, mouth parted. "i like the bows, daddy," you whisper, pouting cutely.

"i know you do, baby," he croons, his voice dangerously soft-spoken, "you wear them when you want something."

you smile. soft. sweet. a little evil, maybe. "maybe i just want a kiss."

he exhales like he's in pain. "you always want a kiss."

"only from you," you mewl, lashes fluttering prettily, teasingly.

you're not lying. aemond targaryen is your everything. you like how the world burns at his feet but softens when you're around. you like that he calls you his baby, his girl, his only one. you like that he pulls you into his lap during his business zoom meetings and strokes your thigh like he owns it—because he does. you gave yourself to him, pretty, perfect, and willing.

you like that you're the only thing that makes him lose control, his sweet little princess.

he takes the soda can from your hand, sets it aside, and kisses you like it's an addiction. like he'll die without you. tongue, teeth, taste. he drinks you in and hums against your lips like you're sweeter than anything money could buy.

when he finally pulls back, breathless, he presses his forehead to yours. "don't ever leave me," he says suddenly. voice cracking. just barely.

"i'm not going anywhere," you promise him, a vow.

you stroke his strong jaw, thumb gently brushing the edge of the scar on his cheek he never talks about. he leans into it, eyes fluttering shut, purring like a feline.

"i'm yours, aemond."

his arms tighten around you like that's the only thing that matters. and maybe it is. you, sipping soda in his kitchen, pink bows in your hair, pretty mouth saying his name like a prayer.

you're his precious little girl, his obsession.

diet pepsi and devotion, that's all you need.

and aemond? he just needs you.

© 𝑎𝑒𝑚𝑛𝑑. est, 2025.

[venmondiese]

writing is insane because one day you open a doc and 4 hours later you’ve invented an entire fake religion and a girl named Opal who commits arson

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the big three: big brown eyes, an indescribable amount of horniness and a generalised anxiety disorder