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Aemond X Reader - Blog Posts

1 year ago

Across The Darkened Room {1}

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

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

Across The Darkened Room {1}

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you think you are doing?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He deserves to die.”

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

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

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

Across The Darkened Room {1}

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know,” you replied meekly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And you haven’t found another since?”

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

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

“What was so special about your dom?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Going somewhere?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Click here for part two.


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8 months ago

Me & My Husband

Me & My Husband

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and your husband spend some time together.

Entering your shared chambers, Aemond walked over to the settee you sat upon. He grasped the belt wrapped around him, and unbuckled it. His sword fell to the floor with a clang.

You let out a gasp and looked over at your husband, who was now looking down at you.

"Oh, Aemond, I hadn't even noticed you were here! You frightened me." You playfully place your hand on the left side of your chest.

Aemond looked down at the book that laid across your lap. "And what were you entertaining yourself with, wife?"

You shut the book to get a look at the title. "A... history book," you finally answer. The title was too long, and you didn't have it in you to speak it.

A small smile painted Aemond's face. "I hadn't known you were fond of the histories."

"I'm not," You said, a confused frown on your face. There were just so many Lord's and Lady's, and you couldn't keep track of them all. "But you are, so I thought I could try to learn a bit."

"Ah." That certainly amused Aemond. "May I?" he gestured to the empty seat next to you. You nodded in confirmation.

He sat down and grabbed the book, taking a look at the title. The book was about Aegon the Conquerer. The first Targaryen king always interested Aemond, but his unworthy brother sharing the man's name always left a bitter feeling behind.

Aemond thumbed his way to the first chapter. "I could always read it to you. Explain what you don't understand."

That cheered you up a bit. Aemond had been so busy lately with the war, and you selfishly wished he would perhaps cut a council meeting short to spend time with you. "I would like that."

Aemond wrapped one of his arms around your shoulder, bringing you closer to him until your head laid comfortably on his chest.

You reached up and gently untied Aemond's eye patch. He let you. Your husband was well aware of your need to see him without it when you two were alone. Even though you would be keeping your eyes on the book, it seemed you still wanted him bare before you.

The crackly of the fireplace filled the room as Aemond went to press a small kiss atop your forehead. You pull your head back, and instead press a clumsy kiss to his lips. You let out a small laugh as you pulled away.

"Always the tease," Aemond said. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips. This one was dirtier, and had you leaning into him and wanting more. "Now behave."

He cleared his throat and began reciting the tale of Aegon the Conqueror: "Aegon Targaryen's conquest of the Seven Kingdoms did not take place in a single day..."


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10 months ago

The Cannibal Prince

The Cannibal Prince
The Cannibal Prince
The Cannibal Prince

Pairing: Vampire!Aemond Targaryen x fem!Reader

Includes: nipple play, kissing, non-consensual vampire turning (Including a kiss), biting, side character death

Word count: 2.3k

Summary: You marry Prince Aemond, and he reveals another Targaryen wedding tradition that many aren't privy to.

The Cannibal Prince

It was fortunately windy at Dragonstone — a delightful contrast to that of King’s Landing.

You wore one of your Dornish gowns, showing off quite a bit of your skin. You hadn’t really gotten into the fashion at King’s Landing. It was so terribly hot there and your gowns from back home gave you a delightful reprieve.

You stood outside. You had first come out to watch the waves lick at the big rocks, but your thoughts soon drifted off to Aemond Targaryen — Your betrothed.

You had brief interactions with the man. Once, when you first arrived at King’s Landing. You had eaten dinner with Prince Aemond, along with the rest of his family. It had been a tense first meeting for you. Queen Alicent was the one carrying the conversation, with Otto asking questions about Dorne here and there.

Though you were not Dornish royalty like the Martell’s, your house is a great one.

You had noticed Queen Alicent lowering her gaze to your dress a few times over dinner before looking back at you with a fake smile. You think she didn’t like your dress.

Aegon, though, scared you. He would not take his eyes off of you during the feast and would speak of how you were too pretty for his cripple brother. You noticed that Prince Aemond had tensed at that, his fingers tightening around his cutlery. You hadn’t spoken out in defense of Aemond — just gave Aegon a faux smile, hoping he didn’t notice how uncomfortable you were. You think he did.

You had heard rumors about the Targaryens. Of how their serving girls were disappearing at an alarming rate, about Prince Aegon’s sexual debauchery, that your betrothed was not missing an eye at all, and that when he had his eye cut out, it had come back! That you did not believe, it simply wasn’t possible.

You shivered from the cold Dragonstone air, and like he knew you were thinking of him, a voice spoke out from behind you. “Cold, My Lady?”

You turned around, your golden dress moving with you. There stood Aemond Targaryen, a few feet away from you. His hands were clasped behind his back and his long white hair looked slightly unkempt because of the winds.

You bowed, before looking back up at him. “Nothing I can’t handle, My Prince.”

You were proven wrong as the wind beat at you, forcing you to squint.

Aemond wrinkled his nose, like he had smelt something he didn’t like before getting his expression under control and clenching his jaw.

“It is getting quite late, betrothed. Would you allow me the honor of walking you back to your chambers?” Aemond asked.

Your eyes widen slightly at the request, but you nod anyway. “Of course, My Prince.”

You both walked back into the Castle, a quiet overtaking you both. You had hoped Aemond would have offered you his arm, but he hadn’t, and this was the longest time you two had spent together, so you contented yourself with that.

Your eyes gazed at all the dragon furniture and you were reminded of Princess Rhaenyra.

You had been surprised when you found out that you’d be marrying Aemond here, as you had heard that Rhaenyra had left for Dragonstone because she couldn’t stand the Hightowers and their children anymore. Perhaps she had a change of mind.

You and Aemond reached your chamber door. There were dragons carved into the wood, their long, lithe bodies stretched out on it.

You opened the door and stepped in, turning to look at Aemond. “Would you like to come in, My Prince?” It was a courtesy, of course. If you and your betrothed were both caught alone together, it would be quite the scandal.

Aemond looked at you, scrutinizing your body as his eyes traveled down the length of your body. He stared at the exposed area of your neck before forcing himself to look back at you, his jaw ticking.

“Perhaps after our marriage ceremony.” With that, Aemond gave a curt bow, mumbling “My Lady,” before turning around and leaving — presumably to his own chambers.

You felt your cheeks heat up at his words and shut the door. You hadn’t expected Aemond to say such a thing — maybe his brother, but not him!

Your handmaidens helped you get dressed for bed and you couldn’t help but feel a strange warmth in your stomach.

As you lay in bed, listening to the sound of the sea — you had insisted to keep the shutters of the window nearest your bed open and one of your handmaidens reluctantly did so, lecturing you about how it would be a terrible thing if you got sick the night before your wedding — your thoughts drifted back to Aemond. You wish he had come into your chambers.

The Cannibal Prince

The next morning, you had awoken to terrible news. One of your handmaidens — Aimya — was dead. Her corpse was found in one of the halls. Your handmaidens said that Otto Hightower claimed that given the girl’s pale skin, she must have picked up a sickness. They weren’t allowed to see the body and had no confirmation that this was true.

You had hoped the marriage ceremony would be canceled because of this, but of course, nobody cared for the death of a random dornish girl. Nobody except for you and the other handmaidens.

Over the years, you had all become very close to each other, and her death was like a ship wrecking when it was close to land. The night before your wedding! If you didn’t know any better, you would have taken her death as a warning.

Your handmaiden — Brise, a woman a few years older than you with a sharp face — leads you to your vanity and has you strip out of your nightgown. Your other handmaiden — Miana, a young girl with rosy cheeks — untangling your hair with a shaky hand as you sat atop your vanity stool, naked and shivering.

Brise shut the window before grabbing your wedding robes. After Miana was done, you stood up, facing the older woman. She held the traditional Targaryen wedding robes.

How disappointing. You had always thought your wedding would be an extravagant thing, but it seems not.

“Aimya seemed fine. I-I didn’t think…” Miana broke out into a sob.

Brise shook her head as she helped you into your clothing. “I don’t trust these Targaryens,” she said the name with such disdain that you couldn’t help but look at her surprised.

“That is my betrothed’s family you are speaking about,” you say as Brise finishes tying the front of the robe.

Miana grabbed the headpiece, but was shaking so much that Brise grabbed it out of the young girl's hands and placed it atop your head instead.

“My apologies, My Lady.” But you knew Brise, and you knew she wasn’t sorry at all. You decide not to dwell on it and begin your trip out of the castle.

The Cannibal Prince

You stand face to face with Aemond, your expression one of pain as he cuts into your palm. You bite into your covered bottom lip to silence any sound of pain that would try to leave you.

Aemond’s own hand is bloody, as you had cut into it first and you can feel it on your palm as you press it against his. The blood doesn’t do much to hide the lack of warmth in his body, but you brush it off to it just being a reaction to the cold of the Island that is Dragonstone.

An older man wraps a cloth around your hands and you watch as your blood — now mixed with Aemond’s — drips into the cup. You hear the man say some words in Valyrian, but you don’t understand any of it.

Soon, you are drinking out of the chalice. You take a small sip, the heavy taste of copper now on your tongue. You hand it over to Aemond, and he holds your gaze as he drinks the rest of your shared blood.

Then, you both kiss. It’s a quick thing, and you are aware of the eyes of Aemond’s family watching you.

The Cannibal Prince

Hours later, you are in Aemond’s chambers. You suppose you’ll be returning to King's Landing very soon.

You sit on the edge of his bed, anxiously fiddling with your fingers as Aemond walks over to you.

Gently, he takes off your headpiece and places it on the side table. Using one cold finger, Aemond places it under your chin, forcing you to look into his purple eye.

You’re captivated. You are sure you will never in your lifetime see anyone that looks like Aemond. Sure, they others have purple eyes, and white hair. But Aemond is unique, with his sharp features, and one eye.

“There is no need to be nervous,” Aemond reassured you. His fingers trail down your neck, to your pulse, gently pressing them there. “Wife.”

You watch as Aemond takes in a sharp breath at the feeling of you, and he quickly pulls his hand away.

Your husband sits down on the bed next to you.

“We need not do this tonight if you don’t wish for it,” he says, surprising you.

You shake your head, feeling your cheeks heat up in embarrassment as you speak, “No.. I want to, Husband.”

Aemond lets out a harsh breath out of his nose and nods. “Very well.”

Gently, Aemond reached out, cupping your cheek and forcing you to look at him. He presses his lips to yours, and for some reason he still tastes of copper.

His hands find their way to the ties of your robe and undo them. He pulls away from your lips and pushes down your clothing, leaving it on the floor.

Aemond looks down at you, and you feel your nipples harden very quickly.

Gently, Aemond pushes you down on the bed, so that you are laying with your back flat against it, your head resting on one of the soft pillows.

He rests one of his hands on your hips, and the other — the scarred one — trails down to your breasts. Aemond presses his palm atop the left side of your chest, almost like he’s trying to feel your heartbeat. When he’s satisfied, Aemond brings his fingers to your nipples. He tugs on your nub and you let out a soft gasp.

His attention is instantly brought back to your mouth and he presses his lips to yours. It’s very different from your first kiss when you were getting married. This one is rough, like he’s trying to consume you.

His fingers dig into your breast — so much so that it’s starting to hurt. You let out a small mewl, and Aemond instantly lets go of your lips and breast.

Slowly, Aemond kisses down your chest, and stomach, until he is at your hips.

Aemond undos the ties of his own robes, and drops the garment onto the floor.

He spreads your legs and presses a small kiss to your inner thigh, “So pretty.”

You let out a small, pleased, sigh. “Husband..”

Aemond brings his lips back to your thighs, and brushes his lips against them. Using his cold hands, Aemond holds onto your hips, pressing them down to the mattress. You shiver at his touch, and when he licks at your thigh, you feel small tingles spread through your body.

Your eyes flutter shut, and that’s when you feel it. Something sharp presses into you and your eyes shoot open. You wriggle in Aemond’s grip, but feel his pale hands pin you down. All you can see is the white of his head as you look down at him.

You let out a small cry, confused. “A-Aemond.. What are you…!”

Aemond’s lips finally release the hold they had on your thigh, and when he looks up at you, your eyes land on his bloody mouth.

Before you can even do anything, Aemond lets go of your hips and instead crawls over you, his lithe frame atop of you. Using one hand, Aemond grabs ahold of your wrists and pins them over your head. His other hand grabs your jaw and pushes it to the side, revealing your neck.

Aemond presses his nose to your neck, taking in your scent. His eyes flutter shut and you hiss in pain as he bites into your flesh.

Your legs kick at Aemond, but it doesn’t deter him.

Soon enough, you run out of energy and cease your struggling. You quiver under Aemond, and tears run down your cheeks.

Just when you’re on the brink of death, Aemond pulls away, pressing a wet kiss to the area he just bit.

Aemond lets go of your wrists, but still holds onto your jaw, though his grip has loosened.

Your eyes flutter open, your vision blurry.

Aemond bites into his own wrist, sucking up a considerable amount of blood, before pulling away.

Aemond presses his lips to yours, and forces you to drink in the mix of your’s and Aemond’s blood. Some blood escapes you and Aemond’s mouth and trickles down your cheeks.

Aemond pulls away after what feels like an eternity. You take in big gulps of air, your lungs burning.

A warmth runs through your body before being replaced with a coldness. It feels like you're freezing. Aemond kisses at your tears before pressing his lips to your bloody cheeks. He coos against them, feeling their warmth turn cool, “I know this is now what you were expecting, wife, but that was not the end. Perhaps…” he trails off.  Aemond pulls away, letting go of your wrists. His eye looks down at your naked body, and despite it all, you feel a heat spreading through you. “After our marriage ceremony.”

The Cannibal Prince

a/n: Wrote this in celebration for season 2 of hotd, though this was written a few days before it came out! divider creds: @saradika


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1 year ago

Let me

Let Me

Beautiful. The only word fit to describe the Targaryen’s as a whole. They are viewed if nothing above society. Closer to the gods than men, as many would like to say. Though there is something quite different when it comes to Aemond Targaryen. The man is gorgeous, the most beautiful specimen you’ll ever encounter. There are times where I realize I don’t compare to such beauty or the royal life in general. You see, I have indeed grown from the silence and embarrassment I faced upon arrival. “You are to be wedded, a fine gentleman if I do say so myself. A match meant to bring forth unity for both houses. Securing us many things across Westeros.”

The words that had changed my life, in which I didn’t know at the time would mean for the better or worse. The life of status is quite new to me, from a certain age the idea of being a proper lady had been instilled in my brain. Then, a match as my grandfather believed the gods before us made themselves came along, the prince of House Targaryen wanted a wife. Aemond was the silent type, one couldn’t exactly understand what was going on with him. He was a tough one to figure out, and I was anything but patient except when it came to him. My dragon.

Watching as Aemond stepped into our chambers putting down his sword. He spent majority of his time training, I never blamed him for it, especially since he has started training me secretly. It took a while before I fully convinced him into the idea but with a few tricks up my sleeve if you know what I mean, he was on board. He starts to remove his tunic, leaving him in nothing but a pair of trousers. “It almost feels as if I’ve been waiting for hours, maybe centuries, dear husband.” He looks up so exhausted, it seems his usual high perception was gone. Not taking notice of me sitting up in our bed. He breaks out into a small smile.

That smile, it gives me peace. Anxiety and pain are forgotten, replaced with nothing but thoughts of Aemond. “It seems, you’ve decided to retire quite early to the bed chamber, haven’t you, gevī?” He moves toward the bed, caging me beneath his arms. “Yes, it seems that way. Yet, once I got here there was an absence of one’s presence. A person meant to ensure safety and warmth, but they aren’t in this very bed with me right now. If you would like a little help husband, there is currently no one blonde laying in this bed with me for our usual activities. Know any blondes?” Looking at him with a coy smirk he laughs at my statement.

A laugh only I can pull from him. Gives me a sense of grace, that only I have that power over him. “I would hope the only blonde you need is currently in the room with you. He says grabbing my chin firmly. Pushing him on the bed to sit beside me and whisper, “I would think we have the same person in mind, my dragon”. I grab a hold of his face, “in order to make this easier I would enjoy if you are the most comfortable, so let’s just remove this.” As I reach for his eyepatch, he takes a hold of my hand firmly. The other gripping my waist. “It’s just me husband, no one is here to judge or ridicule you. Even if they were they would have to go through me if they wished to talk about such lies.” I tell him while looking directly at his eyes. “They wouldn’t be lies.” He said quickly.

Grabbing both his hands firmly I place kisses on the inside of each palm. I wish for nothing but him to be his true self with me. To know I love him deeply. “You are the most beautiful man I’ve ever witnessed. Any woman should be lucky I even allow them to glance in your direction.” He laughs again, though this time it’s a full belly laugh. Coming straight from the depths of his throat. “You allow them, is that it little wife.” I start to place kisses all over his eye and then I remove the patch, this time he doesn’t stop me. Simply sits there basking in the glory. I grab my special tools. Whisking a brush hidden behind my back, slowly but surely start to smooth out the tangles and knots in his hair.

He finally takes notice of my appearance, a think silk nightgown. Leaving almost nothing to the imagination. For the right person, of course. He smiled holding me closely and placed a kiss on my shoulder blade. “I love you both.” I stop moving the brush, running my hands through his hair. Feels of silk. Glancing down to look at my growing belly and then back at him. Realizing this is paradise. Pulling him even closer, “I love you both as well, my love.”


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