COMFORT OF CLOSENESS
-ˋˏ| summary: in the comfort of his marital chambers, Aemond is able to let go.
✧ | Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader ✧ | word count: 2.5k ✧ | Warnings: MDNI 18+, masturbation (m), bottom!aemond, dom/sub dynamics, (lowkey) desperation play, aemond gets teased a lot (and he fights back… that brat)
✧ | notes: i discovered that bottom!aemond (@bottomondweek) was last week... yeah, i am publishing it now. sorry... if it is not allowed to publish it now, i will tag it properly. based on day six: physique
Aemond wasn’t keen on weakness.
He didn’t think any Targaryen was, because simply they were made by Gods to be different. Made to rule, to bond with dragons and control them. He knew that, and he always tried to make the most of that privilege the Gods gave to him.
So when his mother required him to marry, he did so without fuss. A lady of a great house, and he did it dutifully. She was a graceful lady, elegant yet with a strong personality. He had seen her scold men at court as if they were mere kids who needed a spanking from their wet nurse.
And Gods forgive him, but he liked that. It spurs something in him that he didn't acknowledge completely.
“You’re skinnier” You notice, as you both lay in bed together. He wore only his short breeches, mid-thigh as he was hot from the warm bath he had taken.
“I’m not”
“Yes, you are” You insist. “I know my husband’s body”
He cannot argue with that, as he looks away a bit caught. He didn’t understand how could you notice something so small like that.
“Here, you are skinnier” you say, pressing your hands in his waist, your hands a bit more cold against his skin, and he blushes slightly, feeling how you grab his waist.
“Stop it”
“What?”
He feels your hands, caressing softly the sides of his waist, as if he was some kind of maiden. He had seen it in court, when a knight did so with the lady he was courting. It was borderline lewd, to do so in public and at court. But here, he was in his marital chambers, alone with his wife.
“You’re tickling me” he murmurs between his teeth.
“I’m holding you”
It is foreign, the feeling of being held. He doesn’t even remember being held as a kid, less more as an infant. Why would he want to be held as an adult?
“Here you are skinny” You murmur, kissing his cheek as your lips remain close to his face. “Your stomach is flat, doesn’t even look like you’re a prince who can have any food he wants to stuff his belly full. Of dornish wine, or the finest meat” You say, moving your hands to his abdomen.
“I train with the sword. I ran around the yard of the Keep. I am not letting myself go as did Aegon. I doubt he could lift a sword.”
“You talk too much”
He raises one eyebrow as you manage to fit him in your arms, pressing soft kisses on the side of his face. Aemond couldn't understand you sometimes. It was utterly confusing.
“What about it? Am I lying, you imply?”
“No, but it’s always a complaint. Your mother this, Rhaenyra that, your father this… That Jaehaerys pulled your hair, that Vhagar took a small flight, that Aegon is a whiny cry baby…” You say absentmindedly as you caress his stomach.
“He is” he insists, a bit grumpy now. He doesn't like being called out so accurately.
“So are you” You retaliate to his words, almost pinching his skin to reprimand him as well.
He grumbles something about being unfair, the least he needs now is to be scolded by you. He wanted to relax, to calm himself with a bath and then be comfortable and lazy for once.
“What, are you mad?”
Silence.
“Aemond. Are you mad?” The more quiet he is, the more amused you are “Is my love upset?” You say in that tone that it is condescending enough to make him turn around and frown at you, his cheeks red as his embarrassment kicks in.
“Stop it”
“What?” You ask again, moving your hands to his breeches now. Your tone is the same as the one when you first held his waist. “Let me take care of you… hm?”
He hates his traitorous cock because it eagerly reacts to your touch, as if he was a puppy in need of affection or else he will perish. Even if he remains grumpy, he doesn’t move away from your touch and he doesn't plan to.
He pulls his breeches down to his thighs as you accommodate to sit, rather than lying in bed. Aemond knows that you’ve taken interest in this.
“You’re sweet like this” You say, your hand moving to grab his (embarrassingly quick) hardening cock. He grits his teeth as he sighs, enjoying the feeling of being touched.
He hates to admit it, he is too prideful for that. But he likes when you take initiative, as you toy with him however you want and see fit for the day. When you boss him around, telling him how to behave.
“Shut up” He murmurs.
You smile, as his cock feels heavy already, hard, leaking and larger. You’d always admit he has a nice cock, and he was very careful with his appearance, too vain not to trim his pubic hair. It makes you smirk a bit.
“What?”
“You’re a brat”
“I’m not”
You don’t fight with him like Aegon does, as they would soon be in a childish fight of ‘yes’ and ‘no’. It frustrates him, because he remains upset and you, as always, so calm. He looks at you, trying to sit up.
“Gods, can’t you be still?”
He remains frowning, leaning on his elbows to see exactly how you start caressing his cock. Aemond tries not to whimper as his shoulders seem to shake, and he bites the inside of his mouth as he decides to watch.
Your hand is slow enough to tease him, you always did everything so slow. From the base, slowly caressing its way to the top, and as soon as it catched his tip, it was already back down. Slow, but not enough to make him enjoy the feeling completely.
Aemond wasn’t patient, and you knew it too. As you caress his cock, he lets out a little whimper, softly as you start caressing the sensitive head, already red and leaking under your soft touch. He was a slave to your touch, no matter how it came.
“Did you say anything?”
“No” he mutters, trying to feign his facade of stubbornness and disinterest.
“Mhm, Okay…” You say with a smirk, as your other hand comes to cup his balls.
You were killing him.
He didn’t know why he had to be so sensitive, as if the mere touch of his balls was enough to get him whimpering and shuddering. He bites his lower lip as he turns to face the ceiling, enjoying how delicious it was to have your hand stroking him and fondling his balls softly.
He can feel the heat on his groin, all he feels is how the pleasure inside him starts to boil. Turning down to see his cock, he was leaking, coating your hand as the drag of your hand was delicious, and made him raise his hips to follow your motion.
“Ah, ah…. Fuck” He hisses under his breath, not helping the whimper following. He tries to ignore it, even if he sees how you smirk widens.
Your hand on his balls was as excruciating, because both hands worked independently to have him a moaning mess like this, and it worked. He was sensitive with his balls, and the small tug would…
“Ah!”
When you look up to see him, he moves his gaze away, embarrassed.
“You sound so pretty, love”
“Shush” he says. “Keep going” he says, referring to his balls. He can feel your knees brushing against his right thigh, as you were sitting comfortably, as if you were not torturing him.
“Pff, those manners? I ain’t doing nothing but a favour to you”
“That’s completely rid-”
Aemond gets cut mid sentence when he feels your hand lower than his balls. His head immediately turns to see you, his cheeks red.
“Wha-”
“I’m teasing” you say simply, as he feels your fingers brushing against his rim.
“Keep your focus here” He practically demands, moving his legs softly.
“You start to sound like Aegon, you know”
“I don’t” he says, the redness of his face not going away. He tries, again, to sit straighter, extending his elbows to make his presence known. “You’re baffling, and you are… you make me…”
“Keep being this insufferable and I might bend you on my knee and force it out of you”
He frozens, mid sentence and looks at you with an expression almost as a deer caught in a hunt. You see his thoughts forming behind his eye, as if he tried to understand.
You only seem amused at how red he is at a mere jest. The tip of his ears were red, from embarrassment, no doubt. His paleness only made it more obvious, plus his platinum hair.
You’d never done so before. Sure, you sometimes would tease him around, even get him to allow you such delights rarely. Touching anything related to his rear, for example.
“You’re being…” he starts, almost insulted.
“I don’t wanna hear it”
“You’ll have to”
You roll your eyes exasperated. “You’re making this impossibly difficult”
“Is you the one that…”
The soft slap in his face shuts him up. It was not harsh, at all. It barely even had a sound, no sting at all, it was mostly to move his face and stop him on his tracks.
He could feel his cock heavy and practically hurting, demanding attention. He would have gotten his orgasm if he knew how to shut up about his secrets when you had your hand on his cock.
“Stop whining” you repeat. “I am going to stroke your cock however I want, and I’ll do whatever I want until you cum. Understand?”
He feels a bit self conscious, and most small in comparison. A bit ashamed even, but it only creeped like a bit of horniness too.
“Yes.” He murmurs.
“Yes what”
“Yes ma’am”
He feels like a dog saying it, but feeling your hand back at his cock is worth it. He wonders why he is so needy, to the point where a single command of yours, or your hand on him could make him a fool, following your every word. As if he was Mushroom, made to entertain your whims.
Aemond sits up better, leaning on his hands, as your right hand moves to separate his thighs to have better space between his legs. He feels like a maiden, which makes him feel embarrassed but… he doesn’t care now. He lets out a simple sigh as rests his head on your shoulder.
“Y-yes, fuck” he stamers, his nose nuzzling the naked skin of your neck, his breath warm and starting to become quicker by each drag of your hand.
He sees your hand, moving up and down with such grace and elegance, as if it wasn’t the lewdest of acts. It made his head spin, his eyelids fluttering at the feeling of your hand rubbing his tip in circular motions. He bites his lip, feeling his cheeks pink and his balls heavy with lust.
“How does that feel,honey?”
He tries to answer, but he doesn’t trust himself enough now. He opens his mouth, only for a moan to come out. Aemond was so turned on, feeling his cock burning with desire as you caress it.
“Feels good?”
“Yeah…” He says softly, his hips moving softly to follow your lead. He breathes out, trying to keep calm.
You keep going, moving your hand as he moves his hips to his own rhythm. He was getting needy, you knew, and he was insufferable when needy.
He presses somewhat reverent kisses on your neck, whimpering and trying to hold himself as he attempts to do everything he wants at once. He’s an overachiever like that.
“Wanna use my thigh to cum? Hm? Would that be better?” you ask sweetly, and he hates how he immediately nods.
“Yes, please” He even begs for it, but at the moment he doesn’t think about it much.
He has to change the position, holding himself better for when he rubs his dick into your thigh. It was crumbs of what he truly needed, but he was thirsty for anything. And most because he knows he’s making a show out of it for you; if he was turned on, so were you.
He practically ruts himself against your thigh just as he gets the green light, his hand gripping the bedsheet to hold himself as he moves his lips.
His mouth falls open, he can smell the scent you used for your bath earlier, and everything he can feel around him is you; overwhelming him, guiding him, pleasing him, loving him. It’s all he needed, deep in his soul.
You can feel his tip smearing precum against your thigh, and you watch how hard he was as his cock rutted against your skin. He moans, he trembles, and it’s all an indicator of his pleasure and how close he was to his peak.
“Good boy” you murmur, to which he whimpers. “You wanna mark my thigh, darling?”
He nods, his expression almost a needy pout, begging for you to say yes.
“Wanna cum on my thigh?”
He nods once again, and he politely says “Yes, please. Please” He adds the last one out of pure desperation to cum, his balls feel heavy and his spine practically shivers at the impending orgasm that he has been trying to delay.
You drive him to the edge, which you know he enjoys. At least afterwards, because you know that when he’s not allowed to cum, it is pure and animalistic desperation.
“Very well then, you can cum” you say, your hand moving to his face, cupping his cheek so his eye can see yours, assuring him as always “It’s okay, I got you” you say to him, as he whines, yet you know he’s about to cum. “Go on, cream on my thigh”
Aemond doesn’t need to hear it twice, practically squealing as his orgasm hits him before he can truly process it. He knows he’s making a mess on your thigh, his cock pumping his cum out as if he was milking your pussy. It doesn’t feel the same, of course, but the mere thought has him letting out a groan as he tries to get it out of his system.
He takes his sweet time, making almost sure his balls are empty before laying by your side, without more energy for anything more. Not for now, at least. He snuggles closer; needing that warm embrace and forehead kisses that, as predicted, you give to him.
“Hm. I’ll need to have another bath, it seems”
He doesn’t answer, just humming as his face was pressed against your clothed breast. He sighs dreamily, relaxing as he feels his cock softening.
“Look at that mess, darling” you say, teasing him. He opens his eye, and sees what you mean,, his cum on your thigh and surely it is a mess.
“Hmmm… you let me do it” he protests weakly, hiding his face on your chest.
“I did, didn’t I?” you ask softly amused. “You did good, my love. Why don’t we sleep now? Would you like that?”
He hums, nodding, but not really moving. He was practically boneless by now, and he can only say “Yes”, and knowing you will, once again, indulge him.
