Would You Kiss Your Mother With That Mouth?

I most definitely 100% have a type. I am their young controversial gf. You see them? There so bbg 😣

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MDNI ; explicit sexual content ; fem!reader

thinking about luke being so desperate to have you that he can't control himself.

you're naked on the bed, completely bare, and your skin glistens with sweat. it shines from the light coming through the window. he can't keep his eyes off of you. he can't keep his hands off of you.

he's already as close to you as he could get, physically and emotionally. he’s buried inside of you to the hilt, one arm wound around your back, the other holding himself up by pressing his hand into the space above your head. but he needs more.

his skin is burning. it's hot today, stuffy in the cabin, but that's not what's affecting him the most. he's used to the heat that comes and goes during the summer. it's this carnal desire that's new to him, the craving that makes him want to crawl out of his skin and lodge himself into yours.

his hips rut up into yours with more force as he bares his teeth, burying his head in the crook of your neck, pulling your torso closer to him and creating a curve in your back. you huff with the change, and he expects you to recoil, to undo the arch in your back and situate yourself more comfortably onto the bed.

instead, you dig your hands into his tousled hair and push your pelvis closer to his. luke grins against your neck, he nips the skin there and then presses a kiss into the same spot.

he pulls his knees up closer to the backs of your thighs, sitting on his haunches as he pulls you practically onto his lap. he resumes his pace, a vein in his neck straining as he attempts to hold back a little. he wants to give you more. he wants to give you all of him. and although you hold the same divinity as him, he still fears that you won't be able to take it.

maybe some other day.

for now, he gives you what he knows you'll be able to handle. at least, that's his plan, but then you start fucking yourself on him, both of you utilizing the hard trained muscles in your cores to stay in the position.

it's discordant, a push and pull that's not exactly rhythmic, a concotion of staccato and legato movements. you groan, digging your nails into the skin on luke's shoulder, and he realizes that while he might be holding back, you aren't.

your nails pierce his skin, there's definitely a few marks and he can't tell if the liquid running down his back is blood or another droplet of sweat.

"luke, i need..." you start the sentence but never finish it.

your pelvis grinds into his, you press a hand behind you into the mattress and roll your hips. it gives you some form of satisfaction; luke can see your eyes roll back as well as he can hear your grateful sigh.

apparently, it gives you an idea, because you pull yourself closer to him, dig your toes into the mattress, and push him back until he lays flat.

barely a second passes before you're on top of him, riding him like your life depends on it. the bed is too short for this, and luke's head hands off of the edge of it. he lays like that for a moment, too lost in the change. his hands grip your hips as your cunt slurps him up and spits him out, just to repeat it once more. the sound is absolutely filfthy, so vivid and lewd and luke wishes he could commit it to memory.

just as he wants to commit the image to memory.

a pain settles in the back of his neck as he holds his head up to stare at you. to watch your tits bounce and your stomach flex and the way your skin ripples with each bounce.

you're letting it all out at this point, pressing luke's hips down with your hands while you moan unabashedly as you use him.

"yes. right there! gods, 's good, luke."

it's wrong of you to call upon the divine in a moment like this. if you were in your right mind, maybe you would have slapped a hand over your mouth and apologized profusely. but you don't. you keep going, repeating it with absolutely no cares.

your uncaring nature pushes luke closer. because how is it that you, the sweet girl who would only speak kind of the gods, turn into this.

he grips your hips, briefly considering taking over once more, but you're doing so well on you're own and he knows you flourish best when he gets you started, and you finish things on your own. so he lets you get him closer.

he warns you of his impending orgasm, he asks you to get him there (it comes out more of a beg than anything), and when he feels his balls tighten, he digs one hand into the bedsheets and the other into the flesh of your ass and he lets go.

the cum gets trapped in the condom, warm against his already sensitive tip, and then to add to it all, you clench around him and bring your chest down and he feels the hard pebbles of your nipples pressing into his pecs. your hand snakes between your bodies, he can feel the ghost of your fingers rubbing at your clit, and your moans are so clear next to his ear as you get yourself closer and closer, finally reaching the end when luke weakly thrusts up into you.

Morning sex with Jace under the warm blankets? Yes please its gotta be under the blankets

Riding him while the first rays of sun come through the window, hitting him just right making his skin glow and his amber eyes sparkle. Tangled curls splayed out behind him on the pillow, surrounding his head like a halo

The sun hits his eyes making them look extra beautiful and they are looking up at you with so much love. You brace your hands on his chest rubbing up and down from his chest to his stomach and back up again over and over. His hands are holding your hips alternating between rubbing his hands up and down your middle and hips to squeezing your hips in pleasure. You are slowly moving up and down on top of him wanting to savor the feeling of his cock inside you. You wanted to really feel him and you want him to truly feel you.

He loves the view of you on top of him, naked and wearing nothing but sunlight looking like an angel above him. But he cannot stand not being close to you anymore, he cant stand not kissing you anymore. He surprises you by sitting up and pulling you close to him, chest to chest and he wraps his arms around you. “I love you so much” he says against your lips after kissing you. He used his hands on your back to guide you against each other, keeping the pace slow slow and sensual. He cant resist slightly bucking his hips up into you, making you gasp into his open mouth

oh. Oh. 👀👀🔥🔥 this was SO beautiful, I applaud you!! (hope you don't mind me tagging this so I can find it again <3)

what

When the pile of clothes on the chair in the corner starts looking suspiciously person-shaped in the dark:

Night Changes

The final chapter and alternate ending to ‘The Other Woman’ series.

Warnings: Angst, mild smut.

A/N: I’m sorry this has taken almost a month but thank you for those who have been patient and are still interested in reading my work. I appreciate you all <3

To set the scene:

On the night of Aegon’s Name Day celebration you choose to leave with Brandon.

He hears your laughter before he sees you, a sound that makes his chest tighten yet warm at the same time. It was a rare sound he’d hear when you had been married, one that barely emanated from your mouth because of how miserable he had made you. His bitter treatment is a mistake that he’s reminded of daily, you no longer reside in the Red Keep— you’re hundreds of miles away in Winterfell, you are no longer his.

“Brandon— stop it” You hum, nudging him away from you as he plants kisses onto your cheek— the scruff of his beard causing your skin to itch.

“Why must I, you’re my wife. Is a man not permitted to show affection to his wife?” He argues, a playful smirk on his lips. You sigh heavily, allowing him to kiss you one last time before you pull away.

“When we’re at home— yes. You may smother me as you please, just try to hold back while you’re here” You chastise him before you link your arm with his.

Home.

The word is painful to hear for Aemond. You refer to that dreaded cold wasteland as home, even more of a sore reminder to Aemond of how far you’ve drifted from him. He wishes the halls of the Red Keep didn’t allow voices to travel so easily, maybe then his heart wouldn’t ache this much.

“Mother! I didn’t realise you had arrived already” A smile clear on your face as you approach Rhaenyra who greets you both with open arms.

You couldn’t say you were surprised that your mother instantly took a liking to Brandon, he treated you beautifully and he was a man of honour— traits that reminded her of Ser Harwin Strong. You watch in admiration as the two of them converse, allowing you to bask in the silence and observe what you had once called home.

You remember running down these halls barely a handful of years ago, picking up your skirts as you raced to meet Brandon at the gates. You had left a vulnerable Aemond in your bed chambers, heart on his sleeve that you would further wound by choosing to leave him and the ruins of your marriage behind. Your wounded heart had been through enough turmoil at the hands of Aemond— you deserved far better. He knew this. Which is why he let you go.

You haven’t returned to Kings Landing since you had practically begged your grandsire to annul the marriage between you and Aemond. You remember that day well, a memory that haunts you from time to time— even when you’re in your chamber at Winterfell.

“I know I ran away— from my duties and responsibilities, but I stand before you to plead for an annulment” You tried to dull the sounds of gasps in the throne room, the murmuring and whispers of judgement causing you to shift in discomfort.

“Annulment?” King Viserys, your grandsire doesn’t look pleased— but less disappointed than you had expected. A good sign, you think. He hums before a chesty cough erupts from him, the first time you’ve seen his illness in person since you had gotten the letters of his well-being.

“Your reasonings for this annulment being?” Viserys questions you, your hands grow clammy as you choose your words carefully— reciting the sentences you had practiced continuously over the last few moons.

“The marriage between Prince Aemond and I caused me nothing but grief. I cannot commit to my marital duties to him, I am not happy. I fear I will be miserable for the rest of my days if this marriage continues” Your words cause Aemond to almost flinch— they were harsher than he had expected but it’s what he deserves. He knows this. Yet if you were to even glance his way you would see the pained expression on his face, tears welling in his eyes almost.

“Most marriages are not for love— one would be fortunate enough to marry who they love but we do it for political purposes and for the sake of this family. To keep our bloodline pure. Your reasonings aren’t enough child” Viserys begins to dismiss you.

“We never consummated the marriage” You state, the judgemental whispers only growing louder at the sound of your announcement. They grow too unruly to the point where your grandsire has to demand them to quiet.

“We falsified the evidence of the consummation” You say truthfully, biting the inside of your cheek as you prepare for an earful. Viserys just tuts before directing his attention on Aemond who stands a mere few steps away from you.

“Is what she says true, my son?” Aemond nods gently, shame clear on his face as he briefly turns to his father. Viserys just exhales heavily before nodding and announcing that he approves of the annulment.

You didn’t linger in the throne room any longer than you needed, you avoided Aemond’s gaze— afraid that if you saw his hurt expression, guilt would consume you. So you didn’t, you left for Winterfell before nightfall and didn’t bother to turn back.

Almost two years have passed since you stood in Kings Landing, and now you had returned a new woman. You no longer wore the Targaryen name— you were a Stark who wore heavy coats and fur, you had grown accustomed to the icy weather in Winterfell and you found it fascinating. The heat here makes your cheeks flush and feel uncomfortable from the warmth. You wished you were back in Winterfell with Brandon— but you mustn’t neglect your family, even if that means facing Aemond again.

“Is grandsire attending the feast?” You question your mother, hopeful that he would be present tonight. You already know the answer when you see the look on her face, she shakes her head and informs you of his illness causing him to be bedridden. You make a mental note to visit him in his chamber after dinner.

You were given time to rest from your long travels before the family dinner. You were grateful for the brief time that allowed you and Brandon to stay hidden in the guest chambers, but now you had to prepare to face your family. This would be the first time since you fled Kings Landing they would see you and you didn’t know what to expect. The worst is all you expect, knowing your family and how dysfunctional they are— you already have your doubts.

“I’m assuming we cannot hide in here for the rest of the stay?” You hum as you adjust your dress, over examining the way you look in the mirror. Despite your insecurities, you admire the way your husband looks in his black attire. He stands behind you, arms wrapping around your waist to pull you into his body.

“Unfortunately, no” Brandon chuckles, lips finding their way onto the skin of your neck as he plants gentle kisses.

“You will be fine, my love. You are their blood” Brandon reassures you, his presence alone comforting you enough for your ragged breathing to calm. You nod, exhaling heavily while accepting his words. You will be fine.

You should’ve known what to expect. Everyone, minus your own brothers and Helaena, greeted you stiffly. The judgemental expressions clear on their faces as they watched you and your husband enter the room. You knew what thoughts grew behind their eyes, you didn’t need to guess how they felt— they made it abundantly clear from their expressions alone.

Aemond sat where he always did, you cursed at yourself internally for allowing your eyes to travel to him almost immediately the moment you stepped closer to the table. You silently noted the slight change in his appearance, he’s aged slightly— his hair is shorter, cheeks more hollow and jaw sharper than ever— yet his eye patch and scar remained the same.

“How is Winterfell?” Alicent breaks the silence, momentarily stopping her movements of cutting into her food as her eyes gaze into yours from across the long table. No one besides your husband and brothers had spoken a word to you— not even Helaena had uttered anything else besides hello. You were feeling the consequences of your absence now greater than ever.

“It’s as it always is. Cold and draped in snow” Brandon answers on your behalf, his hand caressing yours beneath the table in reassurance— a gesture you’re most grateful for. It saved you from having to scramble together sentences to speak to the woman who had once been your mother by law.

She had taken a liking to you before but the love she has for her children is far greater than anything in this world— you already sensed she had a distaste for you after you had left Aemond behind.

“Glad to see you’re thriving in Winterfell, dear niece. Meanwhile, my brother withers away and becomes less of a man as each day passes” Aegon snickers from across the table, a goblet in his hand and a sly smirk on his face as he eyes you out. His words cause Aemond to finally lift his gaze from his plate— his eye shifting between the two of you.

“In true Aegon fashion— you must always make a fuss at every table we feast on” You tut, a false polite smile on your face as you try to keep this conversation civil. Despite his tone, you didn’t want this to turn sour— you were already frowned upon by everyone in the room— giving in to his shenanigans would only make it worse.

“Is it really a fuss if I speak the truth? Besides, I’m just being a concerned older brother— is there any harm in that?” Aegon hums, chugging back the last of the wine in his cup before he slams his hand down on the table— demanding for more wine.

Your eyes narrow as you watch him closely whilst his wine is being poured. You think he’ll finally shut his mouth and be quiet— that he’ll realise it’s not worth the hassle or effort to stir the pot any more than he has already.

“I would like to make a toast” Aegon announces before he pushes out of his chair to stand— the chair making an obnoxious screech as he moves.

“We should be grateful to finally be sat in the same room again. Our family finally whole…” Aegon continues with his speech, his words growing numb in your ears as you begin to disassociate. Aegon speaks drunken words, you all know what he says doesn’t matter but you allow him to speak them all the same.

“And to my whore of a niece who has finally crawled out from the hole they call Winterfell— I would like to commemorate you for being the first Targaryen to actually let a Stark charm their way into their bed” His words gain your attention immediately, your mouth opens to say something but your words fail you. Your gaze shifts to Aemond’s who is already staring at you, the shared contact causes him to blink at you before he pulls his attention away.

“Mind your tongue when speaking to my wife. Royalty or not, I assure you you will lose it if you continue speaking to her in this manner” Brandon stands, speaking in a defensive tone as he partially shields you with his body. Aegon just snorts, the smirk still gracing his features as his eyes shift onto you.

“You have a perculiar taste in men. Why do they both have a fascination with severing tongues?” Aegon’s snarky comment is a direct jab at the marriage you once shared with Aemond— the threat he made about severing your tongue still makes your heart somewhat ache. Not in the way it used to, it’s just a sore reminder of how miserable the marriage you were once trapped in made you.

“Perhaps because people like you prove some deserve to be severed” You seethe, trying your hardest not to let his words anger you more than they already have.

“You will stop this childish banter at once. Aegon you will sit down and remain silent for the rest of the evening— your Queen and Mother demands it” Alicent breaks the feud between you, her statement causing Aegon to scoff before he slumps back into his seat— only then does Brandon retreat into his own.

“Are you alright, my love?” Brandon questions you, his voice low and face close to yours. You give him a tight lipped smile before nodding, squeezing his hand as a sign of reassurance.

“His words mean nothing, my sweet husband” You hum before pressing a gentle kiss on his lips, a small smile forming on his own at the gesture.

Aemond is sure he feels his heart practically pull apart from the sight before him. Your eyes boring lovingly into your husband’s as you whisper sweet words to each other— he wishes it were him who had protected you from his brother’s insults. He wishes it were him who is comforting you, holding your hand and pressing kisses onto your cheek.

He wants you to look at him just once more at this dinner. He pleads silently for you to notice how his gaze hasn’t left yours since you had locked eyes with him for a mere moment. He convinces himself that you will spare him one last glance. You don’t, instead you and Brandon leave quietly once the dinner has concluded, talking amongst yourselves hand in hand as you make your way back to your chambers.

“Gods, you feel so good” Brandon moans out, the obnoxious sounds of the bed colliding with the wall causing your cheeks to warm at the thought of someone hearing you. If you weren’t in complete euphoria you would bother to tell Brandon to quiet, but you don’t— you allow him to rut his hips into yours noisily as he fucks you.

“My sweet wife. Tell me you’re mine” Brandon’s thrusts quicken as his hand fondles your breast, desperate to feel your walls tighten around him. Only then would he release.

“I am yours. Only yours” You moan out before you press your lips against his— swallowing his grunts and moans as he releases inside of you, the feeling of you cumming around him causing him to reach his high.

Aemond wishes he were deaf or that he had at least bothered to move into another chamber during your absence but he is graced by neither of those options. He wanted to reside in the same chamber so that he would be reminded of you, he didn’t want to forget the memories you shared in these walls— even the ones that made tears fall from your eyes. Unfortunately for Aemond, you and Brandon had been housed in your old chamber which meant he would have to endure listening to the two of you make love.

I am yours. Only yours.

He knows he shouldn’t dwell on what could have been but he can’t help it nor does he stop himself from blissfully imagining it had been him you said those words to. That he was the one who had you a moaning and withering mess beneath him. He’s brutally reminded of reality when he prys his eyes open and questions his sanity as he realises he’s hardened at the mere thought of you. He forces himself to turn over and sleep, despite tossing and turning he would endure the restlessness to fight the strong urges he feels for you.

The following morning, Aemond tries yet again to gain your attention. He hopes you will visit the Keep’s library— so he spends all morning pacing around and aimlessly looking for books you might be interested in. It’s been some years but he still remembers the ones you would read to him, mainly fairytales and children’s books. When that attempt proves to be a waste of time, he tries the gardens— a place you would visit daily. He spends almost an hour there before he leaves in a huff— wondering where else you could be on a day like this.

He doesn’t expect to see you in the training grounds of the Keep, yet there you are sat upon a barrel as you watch Brandon spar with some of the Kights in the City watch. Aemond has to fight a smile that almost breaks onto his face at the sight of you, clad in the attire of your true house— you looked as though you had never left. Never left Kings Landing. Never left him.

“Prince Aemond. Spar with me, I wish to show my mentor how much his work has paid off” Brandon calls him over after spotting him from across the court, Aemond curses under his breath as he feels your eyes trail toward him. Despite his urge to leave, Aemond just nods before moving forward and joining the Stark.

“I have not kept up with my swordsmanship— excuse me for my lack of skill” Aemond apologises as he accepts a sword used for training. Brandon just shrugs and laughs it off.

“This will not be a serious fight, I won’t be much of a challenge” Brandon’s words are a lie, which is proven when Aemond is knocked to the ground for what seems like the tenth time since the sparring started. A part of Aemond hopes that you still cared about him enough to end this match.

“Tell me Prince Aemond, when was the last time you swung a sword? Seems to have been quite some time” Brandon questions, the smirk on his face a clear indication he’s toying with the Prince. Aemond isn’t blind to this but he answers truthfully anyway, hoping you were watching this unfold.

“Two years” Aemond grunts as he pushes back up off the dirt, the sound of their swords clashing rings in your ears and cause you to shudder as you remember the last time these two fought.

“The last time my wife stood in Kings Landing— seems like a coincidence” Brandon tuts, his tone causing you to sigh heavily— tired of his antics that are causing Aemond grief. You had watched enough of your former husband being pushed in the dirt and have his reputation slandered in one sparring match.

“Brandon, my mother has called for our presence. Please end this match” You call for him, the sound of your voice immediately making both men lower their swords. You ignore the way Aemond’s gaze burns on your face, desperation clear in his shameless stare that he wants you to look at him.

Just once. Please just once.

He silently pleads as he watches you talk to your husband as you wait for him to hand back his sword. He holds onto his hope until he watches you turn your back to him and begin to walk away with Brandon by your side. He wondered if he would ever get you alone during your stay, it seems as though it wouldn’t be likely.

“Your Grandsire wishes to host a ball to commemorate our family being united once again. You will attend, it may be the last we will share with the King” Your mother had informed you before calling in the handmaidens to pull together some dresses you may like to wear.

You insist on wearing the dresses you had brought from Winterfell but they seemed too dark to fit the occasion, you would stick out like a sore thumb and you didn’t want any more attention than you had already gained. It wasn’t news to you that word spread quickly that you had returned. The princess who ran away from her family and abandoned her marriage to marry another man. That’s all they care to believe, no one questions why you chose to leave in the first place. No one questioned Aemond for being the reason you left your home and everything you knew.

“Prepare for a tiresome evening” You murmur to your husband before you enter the hall, arms linked together as you pass everyone by and greet those who approach you first. Aemond thinks you look angelic, your deep red dress fits you perfectly as you enter the room— the man beside you is invisible to him. You look ethereal to him, a beautiful sight he should’ve appreciated greater when he had you.

The traditional ceremonies bore Aemond to death, he much rather enjoys the sight of you at the other end of the long table your whole family sits on. You feel his gaze but yet again you do not give in to his presence that demands to be known. You interlace your fingers with Brandon’s as you endure the rest of the speeches, your head almost lulling back as you fight the urge to sleep.

You sprung at the chance to get up and move even if that meant forcing Brandon to follow you onto the floor to dance with you. He was lousy, as you expected— he could handle a sword far more gracefully than he could dancing, but it was entertaining for you to watch him try.

“You should stop staring holes into her, brother. You’ve already suffered enough by letting her haunt you these past two years, no need to make yourself suffer worse by hoping she’ll run back into your arms” Aegon claps his hand on Aemond’s shoulder, causing him to break his gaze away from you and Brandon dancing. He didn’t realise he had been staring so intensely at you, if a sober Aegon could notice then surely others did too.

“I do not wish that. I’m no fool” Aemond mutters, shoving Aegon’s grasp from his shoulder. Aegon replies with a chuckle in disbelief at his brother’s statement.

“Right and I am not a free man who can drink and whore his way through Kings Landing unscathed” Aegon snickers, Aemond just tuts at how hypocritical his statement is.

“You are a free man who can drink and whore his way through Kings Landing unscathed, you fool” Aemond scoffs, averting his eyes back to the sights of you. A small smile graces his features at the sight of you smiling widely, despite it being caused by Brandon— he was grateful to see it.

“You are the fool. This woman not only abandoned your marriage but berated you in front of our father and lords alike when she begged for an annulment, yet you still wish to have her back” Aegon’s words are true, which is most concerning to Aemond. His brother is right, maybe for the first time in his life he believes this.

You broke his heart just as he had broken yours the moment you stepped back into the throne room to ask to annul the marriage. At that point you had been gone for just over three moons, no one in Kings Landing had heard word from you— yet everyone knew where you had fled. When Aemond heard of your return, his heart swelled at the thought that you may have returned to him. That you had realised a life with a Stark was not what you wanted and that Aemond was the one you chose in the end. His hopes were shattered the moment he saw you standing before his father, a slight frown on your face as you confess the very words that still haunt him to this day.

Aemond doesn’t bother continuing the conversation with his brother, he just pushes back into his seat and settles with the fact that he’ll just endure the rest of the evening and hope time passes quickly. You on the other hand are getting flustered by the overwhelming amount of moving bodies around you. You want nothing more than fresh air so you stop your movements before pushing up to talk in your husband’s ear.

“I’m going outside for air” You inform him, declining his offer to join you before you leave him to continue dancing with the others. You wanted a moment alone to catch your breath— to regain your thoughts as you savour some moments alone.

You do just that, inhaling the slightly cold air and enjoying a moment of peace away from everyone in that hall. You attention is captured by the view in the far distance, the vast city you once called home fascinating you with its sights. Kings Landing wasn’t the most majestic place to be, especially given it’s foul reputation but you learned to admire it.

“A princess should not wander alone” A voice of a man you recognise instantly causes your attention to pull away from the view. You feel a lump grow in your throat as you reluctantly turn to face him.

Aemond stands behind you, posture straight and hands clasped behind his back as he stares down at you. You can observe him more closely in this proximity, the closest you have gotten to him since you had arrived in Kings Landing.

“A princess knows how to defend herself. Besides, there’s guards for a reason” You shrug, sounding more nonchalant than you had intended. Aemond flashes you a small smile before stepping forward to stand beside you.

He hesitates speaking, his mouth opening and shutting as he tries to form the right words. A sight that was new to you, when you were married to him it seemed as though he always knew what to say. His sentences were always well articulated and he barely stuttered. You didn’t recognise the man before you.

“Your hair is shorter” You fill in the silence, your comment causes Aemond’s chest to warm at the mere fact you noticed such a detail. It only grows warmer when he feels your fingers brush through some of the silver strands.

“Thought I’d try something new” Aemond hums, savouring the brief feeling of your touch before it’s torn away from him and you pull back— he can’t deny the fact he’s disappointed.

“You haven’t spoken a word to me since you’ve arrived” Aemond changes the subject to a more sore topic, one that causes you to stiffen in discomfort.

“Exchange in words go both ways Aemond. You’ve had ample opportunities to speak to me” You argue back, your point causing him to nod in agreement. He could have easily spoken to you, despite your own personal direwolf being glued to your side— he would’ve risked conversation just to hear your voice.

“I was scared. Scared that you would reject me again” Aemond hums, a serious look in his eye when you gaze into his.

“Is it still considered rejection if you allowed me to leave you in the first place?” You question, satisfied when you watch him fall silent at the fact that you’re right.

“Where is your lover Alys? I haven’t seen her once since I have returned” You watch as he looks off into the distance before he responds.

“I sent Alys away the moment you fled Kings Landing. She returned to her home the morning after you left. I could not bear to have her be a reminder of the marriage I lost— the marriage I let slip through my fingers” Aemond’s words cause the lump in your throat to grow even bigger. This is what you were afraid of, that your presence in Kings Landing would give Aemond some kind of false hope.

“If you had stayed with me I would’ve changed my ways. I would not let you be miserable for the rest of your days” Aemond hums, hurt clear in his tone as he recites the words you spoke the day you asked for an annulment. You should’ve known those words scarred him— the moment they left your mouth you should’ve known it would plague his mind.

“Aemond, you and I both know the words I spoke that day remain true” Your hands fondle with each other, your finger nails digging into the skin of your hands.

“I know. But that doesn’t stop me from wishing we were fated, that our story would have a different outcome” Aemond sighs, turning back to face you as he continues.

“I spend every night in torment, wishing you had chosen me on Aegon’s Name day. I let you go for your own happiness but my own selfishness hoped, prayed that you would return to me” His confession leaves you speechless.

“I am not a godly man but I prayed to the gods that night that you’d have a change of heart. I stayed in your bedchambers well past dawn in hopes you’d come back. That is selfish of me, I’m aware”

“Aemond stop this. Please… save your words” You exhale, growing tired of his attempts at opening an old wound— one that you deemed sealed for the rest of your days.

“I don’t have enough time with you— please let me speak” Aemond’s tone is desperate but he remains calm, barely showing any signs of desperation on his face.

“The more you speak, the more you will hurt yourself. There is no point bringing up the past when I have already moved on” You’re being harsh, you know that but it’s the only way— you didn’t intend on giving him false hope. You knew where this conversation was leading so you figured you’d cut it short while you still could.

“I am going back inside…” You state before you turn to leave him, hoping he would let the conversation die and allow you to return to the hall.

“I have not seen your face nor heard your voice in two years. I beg of you to let me have a few more moments alone with you” Aemond pleads, his hand moving to grasp ahold of yours to hold you in place gently. You sigh heavily before allowing him to turn you around to face him, your bodies are closer in proximity than you intended— than you wished for, but you allow him to hold you there.

“In your absence, I have devoted myself only to you. I have not touched another nor let anyone else plague my thoughts. Only you. I miss you— I need you” Aemond’s grip on your hands tightens slightly, a feeling that causes you to almost pull away.

“You confuse me, Aemond. You let me leave. You told me you wished to see me happy— now you have a change of heart” Confusion is clear on your face as you stare up at him.

“I will admit again that I was a fool for mistreating you. I am a fool again for letting you leave me. I should have fought for you— begged you on my hands and knees for you to stay”

“There’s no amount of begging you could do that would make me change my mind. I love my husband, Winterfell is my home— and the decision I made to leave that night has been one of the best I’ve made” You’re being honest, your words sound bitter but you aren’t saying them out of spite. It’s the truth.

Aemond feels his chest tighten at your words, he should expect it— you’ve made it clear you no longer want him and that you’ve moved on, yet your tone still catches him off guard. He wishes for the woman who used to speak softly to him, who yearned for even a few loving sentences from him.

“You’re being selfish Aemond” You state before you pull away from him to create space between the two of you. A lump grows in his throat at the sound of your words— this is it, he thinks as he watches you turn your back to him to face the view again.

“I am being selfish, I will continue to be selfish as I ask you this” Aemond hums before he continues.

“Will you leave with me? We can run from here. Vhagar will take us anywhere you please— we can start anew, new lives, new names. As long as I’m with you, I don’t care where we go” Aemond says, his hand finding the curve of your back as he watches your face to catch your expression.

Your mouth feels dry as you process his words. You didn’t know how to respond, you were certain of your decision already but still, you didn’t know how to voice it. Despite Aemond’s faults and his wrongdoings, it still somewhat hurt you to see him this desperate for you. Your absence clearly took a toll on him and you felt responsible for how much he’s declined. If you had been the girl you were two years ago, you would’ve fell to your knees and accepted his offer. You would ride on dragonback away with him to where-ever he wanted, he would be enough for you. But you aren’t the same girl you were two years ago, you were stronger than you ever were and Aemond’s grovelling wasn’t enough for you.

“I appreciate that you are trying, Aemond. I have not been blind to your efforts but this isn’t enough” You turn to him, watching as the hope drains from his face the moment the words leave your mouth.

“I will not torment you any longer. I ask that you forget about your fantasies of us running away— they will not come true” You state bluntly.

“I am loyal to Brandon Stark— and him only. He has shown me what true love means and I am happiest when I am with him. Your promises will not change that” You continue, his gaze dropping from yours as he finds interest in the ground beneath your feet.

“I am unapologetic about this but I do wish you will find love. Do not let me plague your thoughts any longer, you should be free to love another” You grasp ahold of his hand and give it a reassuring squeeze. His skin feels warm against yours— the feeling of your hand against his causes goosebumps to rise on his skin.

“Forget about me, Aemond. I will do the same in return” You say in finalisation before you pull away from him, sparing him one last glance before you return inside. He stands in silence as he remains staring at the ground, wishing he had said nothing at all. Perhaps that would’ve been better.

You would forget about him and he would forget about you— of your marriage that once bound the two of you together. Now you were nothing, you had no reason to be tied to each other besides the fact you shared the same blood. He would have to settle with that and learn to be content. Aemond questions if he ever will find happiness as you leave him yet again with a broken heart.

—

A/N: Sorry if this ending isn’t as great as I said it would be 😭 Idk about the angst but thank you for reading this series regardless :)

(forgive me for any typos, this was roughly edited)

Taglist <3

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sometimes i just think …

Okay, Vi, who is used to having rough sex with her partner, until one day it's revealed that you secretly just want something sweet and sappy.

vi, too focused on pushing through the tiredness of slamming her hips against yours, barely notices how you reach your hands up to hold her face. but when she does feel your warmth against her cheeks, her pace slows and her eyes open to stare down at you. she waits for you to say the safe word, or something… but you just pull her down and press your lips to her’s gently, barely pulling away to speak. “slow…”

“slow?” she repeats breathlessly, her lips touching yours as she speaks n you smile slightly, brushing your thumbs under her eyes while you nod. “slow.” you gasp when her hips press back into yours at a different angle, shifting the silicone cock snug inside you

she kisses the side of your mouth, hiding her face in your neck and sighing when you slide your hands through her hair and down her tattooed back as her hips pull back and slowly push back into you. she feels relief as her body relaxes into you, just rutting against you and harmonising with your moans…