-ˋˏsummary: Prince Aemond finds his way to the Street of Silk once again, and he finds certain... familiarity with one of the whores. Yet, that doesn't stop neither of you to let your desires take over. (based on this request)
✧pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Bastard!Female Reader.
✧word count: 4.1k
✧warnings: : MDNI 18+, p in v sex, targcest, oral (m) receiving, brat taming, very slight almost unnoticeable implied aegond AND (not so subtle) that reader is aegon's bastard, aemond is a dilf.. hehe, they are both insane.
You were the prettiest woman at the brothel; most men always repeated that to you. And for a fact, you knew it very well.
You loved dancing; always have. You used to imagine yourself as a royal princess at balls and court events, who wore the prettiest dresses and the most extravagant headpieces, full of veils, patterns, and many details of gold, purple. You imagined, as well, that you would have a nicer figure, full of food, and expensive things, like caviar, and have meat all day.
Yet you were not a princess. You didn’t dress in purple, didn't have anything gold, you never attended a ball or court. You just looked the part; with bright violet eyes, silver hair and that Targaryen’s appearance that called the attention.
Your mother told you that your father was a prince; she never said more. You always thought who it could be. Daemon? He was away at that time. Laenor? The rumours of his liking of men didn’t help. Aegon? He was barely of age by the time you were conceived.
If it was a lie, or a truth, you did not know; you only knew that everyone was enchanted by your appearance; your bright eyes, that your mother often compared them to one of a doe; your lips, always pink without the need of any makeup. You were a natural, born to shine among the common people.
Inevitably, you ended up in a brothel. As a dancer, with exotic clothes from Lys, and some large feather fan for your dances, and you learned how to do your hairstyles the same way Lyseni girls did, since they were the best of the best.
You were the best of the best. You made sure of it. You had something special, the looks, and the wits. Just not the money nor position for it.
Most of the time, the Brothel opens at the ninth bell rang of the day, when the sun starts falling down, and people come home from their work, and just some time after men get paid for their daily works.
It was the eighth toll of the bell when you were helping one of the new girls out. She had auburn hair, and almost as long as yours; and you were helping her do a crown of braids. You heard the consistent knock on the door, and you frowned for a bit, as you walked towards the door.
It was a hooded figure, tall, and looking around as if he was followed. You frown a bit, watching his shoes; you could tell a lot from a man's shoes. This one wore boots, black and slightly muddy. He also smelt strong, like fire, somehow. Oddly enough, he didn’t speak when he moved his eye to watch you silently.
“We are not open.” you say to him, holding the door close, just so half of your body could be seen. “Wait for the next bell toll”
“Call your Madame” He says, abruptly, rude as men used to be; never lacking that audacity that their demands have.
“The brothel opens-”
“I heard you fine the first time” he repeats, as if he didn’t have the time “Call your Madame” he says, throwing a bag full of coins as if nothing, as if he wanted to buy your silence.
You frowned as you knelt to grab the bag, and from that angle you could see the small silver hairs that he intended to hide in that hood, and the eye patch, covering his left eye as the other one, with a deep purple tone watched you intently. You could see the small dragon patterns on his clothes, and how even his cloak had gold details, with little dragons.
It was prince Aemond. You have never seen him up close before, perhaps you had seen Vhagar around the skies from time to time. You heard that he takes his sons to fly often. Just as his grandsire, he had been left a widow with two sons. Not that he shared a love for his late wife, and he did not care to seek another bride.
Yet, prideful as you were, made a face and turned around, opening the door for him as you guided him towards the personal room of the Madame. Although, it seems as if he knew the place since quite some time.
You watch intently at the prince, who the Madame compliments as older. You suppose he looks older, you didn’t quite remember how old prince Aemond truly is. You remember the celebrations for his five and twenty name day, but you couldn’t quite recall how many years ago that was.
“Should I fetch something, Madame?” You ask simply to Madame Sylvi, who sits in the middle of the bed, and yet prince Aemond doesn’t mind your presence as he starts undressing, taking his cloak off, followed by his eye patch.
He has no shame, truly. You watch how he takes off that leather jerkin, embroidered with dragon details made of gold, as if gold didn’t have a better use than to be embroidered on a prince’s clothes that he probably uses once or twice before asking the tailor for other clothes.
“No, do not worry. You tell Daisy that she is in charge tonight”
Interesting. You think, as the prince takes off his breeches, and you turn around to close the curtains, leaving your Madame to take care of the prince. And yet, you took an unshameful glimpse of his ass, smiling as you walked to finish the braids for your friend.
And that routine continued for quite a while, you now noticed when prince Aemond arrived at the brothel, sometime before it opened, sometimes near the end of the night. Sometimes he came day after day, and others it was weeks apart.
You danced the most on busy days, and you refused to dance when you did not want to. You were as spoiled as a little princess, which gained you some popularity among the workers and the clients. Some of them called you a ‘little princess’ and others a ‘spoiled cunt’, and yet you didn’t mind because you knew you could be both.
It was probably one of your new dances, with a bold sound of the lute as you moved the expensive fan around, as if teasing the audience with more peeks of your body. This was a busy day, and so, a lot of men were gathered around watching whatever lewd display it was shown on the occasion.
A jousting was held by the Royal Family, and so a lot of lords and knights came to the city, which means that the street of Silk was at its full capacity, and every man looking for a woman to fuck. And you also knew that most squires that wanted to be knights came here to enjoy the pleasures of the flesh before a joust.
Yet, you don’t miss the one purple eye that watches you intently, still hiding before one of his expensive cloaks with dragon designs. He wasn’t as subtle as he thought he was, at all. Perhaps he could be several years older, yet you know better than him. He could read books, but you have to survive day to day.
Your long hair was braided in a Valyrian-Lyseni way, as you wore some gold detailed hair rings as you asked for them especially for tonight. Men had an appetite for women with that Valyrian looks, and you were an especially fine one.
With every turn of your hips, you saw the expectancy of his eye, in the back of the crowd yet in the middle and not missing a thing. Prince Aemond was an especially eager one, instead of screaming and cheering at the swift movement of your body, he just remained quiet.
He was observant, he was ambitious, and you were the best.
You weren’t surprised when he made a signal for one of the girls serving the ale, and whispered something in her ear. And you weren’t surprised either when the same girl was waiting for you at the edge of the platform where you performed.
He wanted you.
And gods damned you if you didn’t want him. Because even with the whispers and rumours about prince Aemond, he was still one of the most divine Targaryen on earth. He might be older than you, but that never stopped you, at all. And with a chance like this?
“He is a very exclusive client” Madame Sylvi says, as if instructing you as she walks you through the brothel “Likes very exclusive things, all of them you will please. If he wants to talk, you hear. You will touch him if he asks you, and you’ll do anything he wants. He usually gives you orders; how to be, what to do, what to say. You’ll do that- He likes having things in control and preparing for it. And something else; he doesn’t kiss” She says slightly annoyed. “A rule of his. He doesn’t like it. Not then, not now”
You walk, not at all bothered by that rule. You shrug, and take notes, but something in your gut tells you it will be different, somehow.
“I have been told you wanted me, my prince” you say softly, as you enter the exclusive room that Aemond was in.
He looked at you; a hum left his lips without entertaining more in the conversation. He looked at you, as if thinking for a while. His shirt was undone, and his boots were still on, as his pants were a bit messy. .
“Wine?” You ask walking toward the small cabinet with cups and some of the best ale and wine. Particular rooms were for expensive clients, those who paid stags… sometimes you could get a bag with some coins with the face of King Jaehaerys.
“No” he says simply.
You shrug, the small jewellery tinkling as you walk, serving the wine for you to drink. If he didn’t need one, that’s okay. But you needed a small sip for courage, for your hips to lose up a little bit.
“Are you Lyseni?” Aemond asks, his cold and stoic tone not changing. Most of the time, you’d say yes, to please the men like him that knew that Lyseni girls were the best whores. But you think prince Aemond asks for other reasons.
“No”
“A bastard, then”
You watch him through your eyelashes. Was he more interested in your services or your blood? You were sure that both could please him very much.
“Yes.”
He hums, as if the thought interests him very much. You are aware of the bulge on his pants, by the way his legs are apart and he is leaning back, very much interested in you.
“Care for a dance, my prince?” You ask, taking in your hand the fans, walking closer to him. “I’ve been told I am the best. I don‘t think you deserve anything but”
It’s the small nod he gives that encourages you to move your hips, with no music but the one in your head. Years and years of dancing, you know the thrill by now.
Translucent fabric from Essos, gives nothing to imagination, and it serves to give a more lustful touch to your body. It pushes your breasts up in the right way, and you can see the one eye of the prince roaming in your figure.
As you leave the fans, walking closer to him, he then asks again.
“You are Waters, then. A bastard from my father?”
“Nuh-uh” you murmur, your hands going to his breeches, undoing them.
“My uncle”
“No”
“Hm” he hums, looking at how his pants are undone, and his cock is rock hard, resting against his low abdomen, as if demanding attention from you.
There was something about Targaryens that was so divine.
“My brother, then?”
You smirk, raising your eyebrows as if the mere question amuses you.
“I think you might know…” you murmur, watching him closely. Maybe he was old to keep up with your games, and less eager than most men who you attended to; with no problems in engaging with your games.
Prince Aemond was a mature man, who had real duties to attend, and more concerns rather than which whore will he fuck today. And that aroused you. How little he seems to care about you, playing hard to get. It made you eager, and you realised that you were falling for his games instead.
“That makes you...” he murmurs, watching your lips.
Targaryen. Valyrian. Dragon bound. His niece. All of those words he could say. Yet he doesn’t say anything else, words lingering in the air.
You raise your eyebrows, and a slight smirk appears on your lips.
“Mhm. I might just be, my prince”
Your hand drew slow patterns on his cock, stroking it softly as you two engaged on this odd talk.
“Or you might not be”
“Or I might not be”
He watched your eyes intently; purple meeting purple. This man was calculating, and you could see it in his face.
“That’s the thrill of it, I’d say”
“You have his face” he murmurs, his thumb moving to touch your lips faintly.
“So I have been told.”
He agrees with your statement as his hands move to take off the translucent fabric of your dress. You had many men touching you… but never the way that Aemond Targaryen did. His hands felt warm on your skin, and his touch felt right.
Aemond was an experienced man, and you noticed. He doesn't waste time fooling around, as the Madame told you. You were off your clothes in no time, as he had you right in his lap, comfortably.
“What do you want me to do, my prince?” You ask, softly.
He seems to think of an answer before saying. “Do your very best. Surprise me, if you can”
His hands slide down to the swell of your hips, firm grip as he watches your face; almost amazed, and by how he pulls your body closer to his chest, he was aroused too.
Your hands go towards his shoulders, as you use that to hold as you grind against his own cock. The fabric from his open pants tickled your thighs as you straddled his lap, and yet that was the last of your worries. You were so horny, unlike many times, you were dripping wet for this man.
Lewd moans spilled from your lips, one of your hands moving to cup his face, feeling the heavy breathing that came from his mouth. He was an intense one, his single eye never left your gaze; and you weren’t one to lose a challenge.
“I think you are a spoiled thing” His tone is breathy, as he squeezes the flesh on your hips to force your cunt to grind against his cock, greedy as a dragon.
“Been told so” your voice is more agitated, and you lean forward as if to kiss him, just to push your luck, and he moves his head slightly back. You giggle, trying to suppress a moan at his growl.
“You little...” he says, yet a smirk appears on his lips due to the provocation.
“Hm?” You ask almost innocently. “Didn’t do anything…”
“Spoiled whore” he says, with his chin and lips moving closer to yours, and you nod. “Proud of that?”
“I don’t hide anything, my prince”
Aemond’s hands move upwards to your waist, and it takes him no real effort to turn you over on the bed, positioning himself between your legs as your back hits the mattress, gasping in surprise at the sudden movement, as you move some of your hair out of your face.
“I wanted to suck your cock” you say, using your elbows to get some height as he moves his hands to pull down his pants.
“And I want to fuck you” he says as if he was the one in the right, and it was obvious he lived to dominate.
“And I want to suck your cock” you repeat, stubbornly.
“I am the one paying” he reminds you. Not upset, but more amusedly annoyed at your brattiness. It amused him greatly, to see a thing like you defy him.
“Yes. And you said for me to surprise you, so I think I get the right to decide”
He has a smirk, yet his eye showed how amazed (and annoyed) he was.
“Brat” he spits the word, as he moves your legs apart further.
You feel his dick slide against your slit, yet he only does to tease you, and to arouse himself more. You moan, feeling as if you could cum just by him doing that. What was this man doing to you?
“You are unfair”
“Want to suck my cock? Fine, you’ll suck my fucking cock” He says, taking you by the shoulder, moving you to sit back up, and pushing you over the edge to the bed. “Go on.” He says patronisingly. Manhandling you to every whim he might have. “Fucking slut, come on, suck my cock”
He didn’t have to tell you twice. You were all over his dick, sucking every part you can of it. Seeing him over you, his hair loose as he was hard as a rock, and his hand grabbed your silvery hair, taking it into his hand with wonder. He was into it.
Your purple eyes look up to him, your lips around his cock as your obscene sounds delight his arousal. He groans as he pulls your hair, forcing you to take more and more of him.
Your hand caresses his balls softly, as if trying to caress every part of him. He was truly divine, and you knew something; you two were of the very same blood. And Aemond knew that too. Not that it stopped you, truly.
“Enough” He commands, forcing you to be up. You were about to protest, you were barely beginning! “Stop whining, bratty princess” It is now that he pulls you towards his lap, in a hurry that could only be interpreted as desperation and hunger.
Princess. Coming from a royal’s mouth. Coming from what you think is your own blood. The sound that leaves your mouth isn’t fake, as you used to do when other clients complimented you. That one, and all the rest, was real. Just for him.
The feeling of his cock entering inside you was truly like no other, you felt just like a court maiden, touched for the very first time, your hands gripping on his shoulders as he grabbed you by your thighs, making you to go down onto his cock, and the feeling of your pussy engulfing him whole, greedily… drove Aemond mad.
“Fuck” he mutter against your lips, almost groaning. “Fuck, just like... Fuck…”
As if the smugness from your eyes went away, your big eyes scan his face, as if searching for anything. “Fuck me”
“I am fucking you” Aemond murmurs, his tone tense.
“P-Please” You beg, pathetically, needing the feeling of his dick pounding hard and with no mercy against you “Fuck me, please, f-fuck me”
Your plea serves him enough, he leans back on the pillows just a bit, making it easy for you to have a better hold of him, and rest on his chest, as he took your hips and forced you to take his cock, fucking you on it. It drove you mad.
Your first try to grip his shoulders, as your loud and lewd sounds fill the room, but it seems useless, your hands slipping off his shoulders, as your cunt squeezes his cock. You were desperate, your forehead pressed against his chest as your mouth was open, as if you could not have any control over your body, a little thread of drool coming out of your mouth.
“Fuck me, please, please”
“Greedy princess, hm?” Aemond sounds smug, as he spanks your ass hard. The slap sound resonates in the room, along with the wet sounds and more sounds of your skin against his.
“Yes, I am such… a needy girl”
“Always have been” he murmurs, picking up a pace as his hips start to meet your thrusts. You realised then, that it was affecting him as bad as you. Perhaps the pleasure was blinding you, but his tone was tense, his grip stronger and he was more demanding of you. He was solving it; and that only fuelled the fire.
“Yes. Please…” You murmurs, and as bold as you are, you murmur “Uncle, please”
That sends him over the edge of madness. His pace is relentlessly, and his mouth only lets out groans and guttural sounds, as he insists on pounding hard on you, his hands on your ass as he pulls your hips down, his cock filling you in the most exquisite way, as his balls hit your skin from the force of impact.
He slaps you when you move your head to see him, eyes full of need and pleasure. He seems to get off on it; and you won’t deny him anything. You know it. And you do love when he takes his frustration out on you, it is even better than the composed version of himself, stoic, cold and uncaring that he presented first. The unhinged version is... So much better.
“You will cum in my cock” He orders you, his low tone is a proof of his desperation about it “You’ll be a good little princess...” He grabs your platinum hair to make your head go up, your face closer to his. “And you’ll cum on my cock.” He says against your lips.
You kind of don’t care about the ‘rule’ he has, because as soon as you feel the hot breath of his hit your lips, you lean slightly to kiss him, even if the grip on your hair makes it painful. And to your surprise, he doesn’t pull away.
There is lewdness as his cock opens your cunt, sloppy sounds and moans that spilled from your mouth over and over again. You had to squeeze your eyes shut due to the pleasure, focusing only on the feeling of him.
Your cunt felt on fire, you could only imagine how it felt around him, but you are getting so overwhelmed with pleasure that your right hand grip on his shoulder hard. You take the reins of your pleasure, moving your hips up and down, trying to get every grasp of pleasure.
The position not only makes you shake with mind blowing pleasure, but also presents all of your tits on Aemond’s face, jumping in front of him as his dick hits the deepest part of you.
“Fuck, princess” he mutters, another harsh spank on your ass that makes your moan loudly.
He had the girth that you needed to feel full. He made you feel more than that, you felt alive. Truly alive. The head of his manhood hitting repeatedly all of the right parts, making you moan, his hand gripping on your ass as he also felt the same pleasure.
“I’m going to cum inside you, princess” he says. And that’s all it takes for you to cum on his cock.
You shake as your orgasm hits you, your thighs feel mire forced to be open, and your cunt craves to feel his cum flooding your insides, filling you with his seed. You craved it so bad; it had you moaning more and more.
Aemond uses your body, still shaking and limper to fuck you, his cock full of your juices as he groans, throwing his head back as he mutters some words in high Valyrian, cumming hard in your welcoming pussy.
“Iksā sepār hae zirȳla. Hylagon hae zirȳla. Aōha kepa se kesā sagon ñuha morghon. JēDar hen iksā ñuhon” Aemond groans his grip firm as he makes sure not a drop of his cum gets out of your pussy.
As you catch your breath, you feel a bit limp on Aemond’s chest. He was sweaty, so were you. And you were tired, feeling the bruises of his marks on your delicate skin. You feel his seed coming out of your cunt, and that makes you whimper.
“You are beautiful” He murmurs, his thumb caressing your lower lip. You take it on your mouth, playfully, sucking it just a bit to tease him. Aemond hums, very pleased. “Just like your father”
As he extends his arm, he takes the bad of coins, and takes some of them into his hand, showing the gold to you.
“Full of it, just for you.” Prince Aemond murmurs, his hand caressing your lower back. “But you have to be just mine” he warns, possessive just like a man from his position is.
You sigh, taking one of the coins with your fingers and inspectionating it. A bag full of dragon coins. You could see the face of Jaehaerys I, and turning it around is the profile of a dragon.
“No men. No flirting. No whoring around” he says, whispering in your ear. “Just mine. Could you do that, princess?”
If you could do that? You don’t mind whoring around, you didn’t hide being hedonistic. Be his? Not hard. But be a princess? Could you do that?
in hindsight it is very funny that ned was like yeah you can bring your megafauna apex predator wolves with you to the most densely populated city in the country. that will be fine probably
calling an author "unprofessional" bc he hates how his precious work that he spent years on being butchered is beyond madness. the thoughts, the ideas, the hard work, the inspiration, the sleepless nights, the creativity, the emotions and feelings he has put into his work being thrown out the window not once but TWICE must be heart breaking to him. he knows he doesn't have much time left on this earth and he has the RIGHT to be upset and devastated at how his legacy is being dragged through the mud and "fixed" by a bunch of pretentious narcissists that think they could do a better job than him, bc if they're doing this while he is alive imagine what they would do when he isn't.
"i want more complex women" you couldn't even handle catelyn stark. unlike cersei. who was the most advanced catelyn apologist within the text, she was cheering her on for wrongs she didn't even commit > "Catelyn Tully was a mouse or she would have smothered this Jon Snow in his cradle. Instead, she's left the filthy task to me." < she would've supported her wrongs, she wanted her to be more evil about it even. which is why it is a tragedy that she never knew the way catelyn spoke of her:
when she fantasises about killing you in a manner which signifies your worst, most oppressive fear 🥰
turnnoffyourmind
areudirty
prguitarman
germansingergirl
theartofmadeline
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
yousharknotpass
