Consequences

Anonymous asked:

I am mind blown at how good your writing is! Absolutely mind blown! Your portrayal of Aemond in every single piece is just 👌🥹 I do have a teency little request if you’re still taking them and that’s Aemond all frustrated with you, seeing as you’ve been teasing him constantly throughout a feast, which is when he demands/drags you away into a dark corner which he then proceeds to absolutely annihilate you from behind, I’m talking slapping your ass, literally pounding you that hard you’ll have fingerprint bruises all over your hips and thighs, wrapping his hands around your neck and making sure you realise that you BELONG to him. No one else… Please excuse me as I go and fan myself 🥵🔥

Hi!

I hope this is what you were thinking of!

Pure filth

I held off tagging anyone because I won’t do that for nsfw fics

Word count: 1233

Aemond x f!reader | smut | lots of smut | possessive Aemond

You were dreadfully bored.

The dinner was dragging on longer than you had the patience for. Hours seemed to have passed since you’d finished eating. The droning conversation around the long table sounding much like the buzzing of lazy bees.

You glanced at your husband out of the corner of your eye, mischief twisting in your pleasantly full stomach. He certainly looked polished, poised, and ever so handsome. His long silver hair falling over his shoulders, glimmering in the candlelight. His violet eye, surveying the chattering crowd with mild disinterest; the other side of his face covered by a leather eyepatch, giving him a roguish appearance. You wished to run your fingers along his sharp jawline, gripping his strong chin with your fingers and…ah he’d caught you staring.

Aemond’s eye had alighted upon your face, seeming to sense the intensity of your gaze. His curved lips quirked slightly in a debonair smirk.

He could see right through you.

By the dilation of his pupil, he was feeling much the same upon surveying your own alluring features.

Under the pretense of raising your goblet of wine to your mouth, you reached with your free hand under the table, caressing Aemond’s knee. He shot you a warning glance, but did not move away, enabling you to continue tracing a wandering path higher up his leg.

You felt his long fingers grip your playful hand as you reached toward the inside of his upper thigh, stilling your progress. You pouted at him over the rim of your glass.

His eye smoldered violet fire, grip tightening.

You moved your foot then, gently rubbing it up and down his calf. Aemond looked briefly up to the ceiling, as if searching for strength amongst the vaulted beams there, before moving just out of reach of your exploratory foot, his hand still restraining your own.

Servants approached, bringing with them desserts which they placed on the table before you. You returned your hands to where decorum dictated, helping yourself to a portion of chocolate pudding.

You caught Aemond’s gaze as you raised a spoonful to your lips, making sure not to break eye contact as you slowly sucked the delectable mousse into your mouth.

His lips parted, the prince was barely able to conceal the desire and aggravation warring across his face. His hands, resting now beside his plate, clenched into fists.

Abruptly, he stood.

You glanced down but his tunic was long enough to conceal any evidence of your hard work from prying eyes.

Aemond extended a hand to you. “May I have a word, dear wife?”

“Of course, loving husband.” You took his proffered hand, his fingers instantly vicelike upon yours.

With barely restrained haste, Aemond practically dragged you from your seat and out the door into the cooler air of the empty corridor.

It was a large, long hallway, framed on either side by stone columns, behind one of which your husband pulled you. The breath left your lungs in a rush as he pushed you roughly back against the cool surface, his lips hot upon your own. His tongue forced its way into your mouth, tasting the dessert you had sampled.

You returned his embrace with fervor, tangling your fingers into his long hair, pulling him harder against you.

Aemond broke away to look at your face, his hands gripping your waist. “You think you can torment me, and suffer no consequences?”

“I was actually hoping there’d be some repercussions.” You breathed out, gasping as Aemond spun you around, your hands rising to support your weight upon the red stone pillar.

You felt his body curve against your back, greedy hands pulling up your skirts as you bent over instinctually, rubbing your backside against his obvious arousal.

“So wanton and needy.” Aemond purred in your ear, his breath stirring the strands of hair coming loose about your flushed face.

“Speak for yourself.” You moaned as his dexterous fingers found the heat of your wet core, dipping in between your slick folds.

You bucked against him, eliciting a sharp hiss from the man. Aemond wrapped an arm around your torso, his fingers making lewd noises as they worked inside you. “How long have you been so wet for me, hmm, my love?” He bit gently at the exposed flesh of your shoulder. “We could have left sooner, had I known you desired to be the main course.”

You clapped a hand over your mouth, stifling your cries of pleasure as Aemond’s slippery fingers massaged your clit. You rode his hand, your hips desperately rocking as you sought your release.

“I would love to drink you down, my head buried between your thighs.” Aemond nibbled at your ear, causing you to shudder, a fresh wave of warm arousal dripping from your cunt as he whispered more filth to you. “Hidden underneath your skirts, I wonder if you could remain standing as I lapped up your sweet nectar, until you came undone just by my tongue.”

“Aemond…” You tilted your head back, turning into him as he captured your lips in a searing kiss.

“Alas, we don’t have that kind of time.” He murmured into your mouth.

You spread your legs wider, bending lower as you felt the tip of Aemond’s leaking cock brush against your center.

You reached back, gripping his thigh as he slowly slid into you. Aemond gasped against your neck as he drove deep within your heat, his hand coming to cover your open mouth as you moaned.

The fingers of his free hand gripped your hip with bruising intensity, pulling you back against him as his thrusts became faster. The sound of the crackling torches upon the wall barely concealed the slapping of flesh as Aemond pushed you further down, bending over you and driving into your cunt with long, hard strokes.

“You belong to me, Y/N.” His voice was velvet, you could smell spiced mead upon his breath. He sucked marks onto the soft skin of your throat, causing you to whine into his hand.

The feeling of his cock moving with reckless abandon inside of you, his body pressing hot against your back, your skirts bunched around your waist, the electric feeling that came with knowing you could be caught in the act at any moment, all combined into such a heady feeling of lust you felt your climax swiftly approaching.

Aemond’s thrusts became more erratic, his breathing heavy against your neck. Your fingernails scraped against the column as you came undone around him. You pressed the top of your head against the cold stone, your clenching walls milking his seed deeper as Aemond came with you. He rested atop you for a moment, still moving his hips lazily against you, relishing the feeling as your cunt spasmed with the aftershocks as you came down from the high of your orgasm.

He squeezed your neck gently before relinquishing his hold on you, allowing you to straighten. You smoothed out your skirts the best you could, feeling Aemond’s hot cum running down your leg.

“Now.” Your husband tilted your chin up to him with a forefinger. “We will return to dinner and finish the evening without further insolence.”

“Aemond, I’m a mess!” You protested, keenly aware of the sticky state you were in beneath your heavy skirts.

“Hmm, I intend to help you with that later. For now, we are expected in the dining hall.” He grasped your hand, leading you firmly back toward the feast.

He leaned into you, kissing your temple lightly, tugging the collar of your dress down a bit to show the bruises he’d left with his mouth. “Next time, don’t start something you know I will finish.”