#aemond reader insert

The night wind swayed the curtains, making them look like waves in the sea. You stood in front of the full length mirror, a frown in your face, hand resting on your lower belly. Six moons since your daughter Aerea was born, an adorable girl with your dark Baratheon hair, and a single white patch that denounced her paternity. Breastfeeding made the tits sag and go flaccid, other noble women said. For this reason, she was passed to a wetnurse, that way she wouldn’t just let your breasts rest, but also bond with her cousin Maelor, who shared the same nan.

 Still with such precautions to preserve your lady-like figure, your body has changed. You had wider hips, soft arms, your belly was a gentle pouch. And though they dried in four days as Maester Orwyle told you, your breasts doubled their size, in a way that none of the old bodices fit you without hurting here or squeezing too much there.

That bothered you. Looking at your mother in law, who passed through four pregnancies, you felt like a failure. Now and then you would hear her casually commenting on Rhaenyra’s body, which grew thicker as the years passed. Courteously, you would chuckle and agree with her, but deeply, you felt as if it was some sort of subtle jab the queen was giving you as a way to show her disapproval towards your figure. Your grace could be sincere, but never unpleasant. 

And there was your husband. You didn't like how his demeanor changed when Alicent was around, how he seemed younger. Vulnerable in a way he wasn’t with you. Knowing him since you were children, Aemond was never really smiled or demonstrated affection towards anyone. That was just how he was, and no one could force him to be outgoing and loud like his older brother, and you loved him anyway. But you would be lying if you said his silence didn’t hurt you sometimes. Is he still attracted to my body, you would think, palming yourself in front of the mirror. Was he ever attracted to me at all, or was it all for duty? 

The doors of your chambers creaked slowly. You turned to see your husband enter with long strides, saying nothing more than a simple “Wife”.

- Husband - you answered, in a tone softer than his. Without paying much attention, Aemond removed his eyepatch, followed by his doublet and linen shirt. Eyes studying his body; defined muscles covering sharp bones, given to half of his life being dedicated to training and dragon riding, and not much appetite. He wasn’t as chiseled as sor Criston Cole, but his form was undeniably beautiful. Sometimes you got lost admiring his beauty, from toes to eye to silver hair. As he turned, your first reflex was to wrap your arms around your own torso, provoking unwanted attention.

- What was that? - He asked, approaching with his single piercing eye locked in yours. At that point you had learned to read and deal with his enigmatic and little revealing expressions. That one showed real concern, or at least curiosity.

- Nothing, I was looking for something to dress for dinner but… - words struggled to come as shame twisted your guts. - but i couldn’t find anything that fits.

– How nothing? - he hummed.

- Nothing, Aemond. None of my fancy dresses fit without suffocating, or squeezing my breasts, or… - You sighed, crossing your arms atop of your chest and turning back to the mirror so you wouldn’t consider what his reaction was. 

- I can help you - he approached, making you turn to him again.

The idea was silly, what did Aemond understand about bodices and skirts? You chuckled.

- You? 

He nodded, forcing you to uncross your arms. You felt a hint of self consciousness, perceiving that they were way thicker than his. Your husband turned to the big wooden chest in the corner of your room, lifting it’s lid with a soft creak. His hand palmed through the sea of clothing, until he found something pleasant to him.

- This? - he asked, raising a yellow gown with black details, with small stags embroidered on the skirt.

You shook your head.

Aemond turned to search and palm the linens and velvets, again and again.

You fiddled with your fingers in a dissociative spiral as tears threatened to escape.

- Aemond! - The voice came rougher than you expect, but Aemond, calm and collected, let the lid of the wooden chest fall, and turned lightly, his sapphire glowing for the candlelights.

- Yes? - He said, still holding a green robe, draped over his forearm. 

His composure made you feel dramatic and silly.

- My body changed! - you spoke after a moment or two, letting the inevitable tears fall freely across your cheek - It changed too much, haven’t you noticed that?

Aemond’s eye followed your hands as you did a gest to prove your point. By his face, you could tell your husband was looking for something to say.

- I did, - spoke then as he approached you softly - of course i did. 

- Your mother used to mock Rhaenyra for this, but now look at her daughter in law… - you shook your head and expressed bittersweetly - look at her, bore the King four children and still be gracious, beautiful… What must she think of me? That I let myself go, that I got too indulgent… 

Your husband’s gaze alternated between you and the robe in his arm.

- That is not a matter my mother should care about.

- But i care! - you pursed your lips - I want to be perfect for you. Like… - You couldn’t complete the sentence. Guilt took over you as you realized you wanted to occupy a place that might have been already taken, and belonged to your mother in law.

- …like my mother? 

Three simple words took you away from whatever sort of trance you’ve had put yourself in. By the Seven, it was her dress he was holding. The one she gave you as a wedding gift and belonged to her two decades ago.

- You want so, too. - you pointed at the green, fancy linen. 

Aemond looked at it again.

- I don’t want you to be like my mother.

- You don’t? - you scoffed - Then why do you hold the dress she gave me? The one she wore moons after having you. - The last sentence was full of irony, as you recalled what she spoke so sweetly on the day of your marriage, and now carried the weight of duty.

He had no coherent answer for that. 

- I do like you the way you are.

As the curtain behind you made the shadows casted by the candlelight wave, you could see the crescent bulge in his trousers, compressed by the black leather and urging to be free. 

Without a word, Aemond pushed the dress to your chest. Your brows furrowed in confusion.

- Put it on. - he spoke. - Please… - he completed after he saw the hesitation in your eyes, his expression softening.

You swallowed dry. Squeezing your upper body through the fabric, you could see Aemond’s only eye roaming your new curves, his mouth ever so slightly open. 

Adjusting the waist wouldn’t make it not evidence your hips and lower belly. Your breasts threatened to spill from the bodice, creating a luscious cleavage. 

- See? It doesn’t feel right to go down to supper like this… - You chuckled, hands folded in front of your body as Aemond studied you in silence.

He approached, closing the space between your bodies, and one hand rested on the small of your back.

- I do not wish to have supper now. - he caressed the plump roundness of your arse. Other hands reached out to cup the heavy fullness of your breast.

- Aemond… 

He shushed you, eye fixed in yours as his thumb rolled your already stiff bud. Without warning, both hands grabbed the edges of the cleavage, and tore the fabric with a sharp rip from breasts to belly button. Shame burned in your guts, but arousal burned higher in your core.

Three steps back and Aemond pushed you to the day bed. He undid his trousers, revealing a pink flushed member dripping with pre cum. Sitting on the empty space by your side, your husband greedily patted his lap, and hesitantly, you sat with your back straight against his chest, feeling the bone of his slender thighs under your soft ones. Aemond’s hand lurked under the ruined dress directly to your puffy mound, and then sharply into your dripping cunt. With the other hand, he palmed between the valleys of your breasts and cupped the pouch in your lower belly. You arched your back, leaning further into his hand. Shame and arousal mixed and danced around, making your grip and force his hand against your belly as you rode his fingers. His silver hair fell on your shoulder, you could smell his sweat mingling with yours, and his cock pressing impossibly hard against your fat ass. 

- Mommy… - he mumbled, almost inaudibly, which shamefully made you squirm around his fingers, reaching your climax… but he wasn’t done yet. 

Aemond coaxed you to bed, where you fell into the mattress of feathers. He crawled to you, featherbed dipping with his weight. Without more ceremonies, his cock was inside you, throbbing and deliciously stretching your walls. You could feel every inch in your cervix. One of his hands squeezed your breast as the other grabbed your soft hips. Every pounding was accompanied by a soft grunt of your husband, and a drop of his sweat fell into the curve of your neck.

I will breed you again… - he thrusted - get you round with another babe, plumper…

You hadn't meant to be eavesdropping. You were supposed to be asleep, and your window wasn't supposed to be open - but last night had been a hot evening and you could not find sleep.

You had gone to the adjoining bathroom and opened the window, hoping to get some fresh air while you splashed your face with cold water. That was when you had heard them - Aegon and Aemond, having a discussion in hushed voices on the terrace below. The smell of cigarettes had wafted through the window and their voices had come right behind.

"This is getting ridiculous, man," Aegon had said, laughter in his voice. You could guess from the drawl of his voice that he was drunk, which was no surprising. Every summer as the whole family gathered for a week, he would drown his displeasure at being there in cheap tequila and orange juice. Despite not being part of the family per se - you were only Rhaenyra's step-daughter, from your father Harwin's first marriage, everyone had always made you feel welcome and you considered the Hightower kids as good friends.

Even Aemond, distant and cold as he was, had his own way of making you feel included. You did not speak much during the day while other family members were around, but you often found each other at night. He would provide the cigarettes and you would provide the beer, and the two of you would sit under the willow further down the large yard.

"Just get her drunk and fuck her," Aegon continued, then made a noise that suggested Aemond had kicked him or pinched me.

"This is crass, even for you," Aemond said in his usual musical voice. His deep tone had a rumble from the cigarette he was probably smoking, and you were curious to know who they were talking about. You had never heard of Aemond being interested in anyone, and you sometimes even wondered if he wasn't asexual.

"Come on, when's the last time you got laid? I can't take it anymore, watching you pine after her is painful."

Aemond did not try to contradict him and it made you even more curious. It seemed Aemond was interested in someone, and you felt both intrigued and a bit jealous. You could not deny you enjoyed his company and found him quite easy on the eyes. From his sharp facial features, to his slim waist and long legs, there was much about him to love and you had let your mind conjure dirty thoughts more than once.

You heard Aemond blow some smoke, humming discontentedly. "I'm not interested in just fucking her," he finally said.

"For fuck's sake, man, don't tell me you're in love with that chick."

This time you heard the dull sound of Aemond kicking Aegon and the young man yelped. "Shut up."

Aegon started to laugh, choking on whatever drink he had been sipping on. "I admit, she's cute. Even if that yellow bikini is truly ugly."

The sound of Aegon falling off of his chair startled you, but it wasn't the reason for your heart suddenly beating wildly in your chest. Because you had heard that sentence several times in the last few days, each time you sun bathed or took a dip in the pool - Aegon had never missed an opportunity to tell you he thought your swimsuit was ugly.

—

The next morning, Aemond was suspiciously absent from the breakfast table, and you found him under the willow, sitting cross-legged on the grass. He was wearing his usual black jeans, black hoodie and combat boots. You often wondered how he managed to bear the heat in all-black clothes and never smell of sweat.

"I brought you some coffee," you said, sitting next to him, and he thanked you in a quiet voice. He offered you his cigarette without a word but you shook your head no, drawing your knees under your chin. You watched his sharp profile as he took a sip from the mug you had brought him - two shots of expresso and five sugars, no milk. Boiling hot. He licked a drop of the dark liquid from his bottom lip and you decided to take the plunge, your heart beating wildly.

"I heard you and Aegon talk last night."

From the corner of your eye, you saw him freeze, his cigarette halfway to his mouth. He inhaled through his nose, squaring his shoulders, but stayed silent. "Why did you never tell me?" you asked almost immediately, afraid he would bolt if you let the silence go on. He said nothing for a while, dipping his head until his hood was hiding most of his face. "It was a personal issue."

"You being in love with me kind of also involves me," you said, not unkindly.

"Does it?" he asked, his voice cold. You noticed the hand that was holding the mug was gripping it tightly, and you were worried he was going to burn himself if he did not release it.

"If you intend to do something about it, then yes it does," you replied, reaching out to take the mug from him. He let you, snatching his hand away quickly.

"And if I don't?"

You took a sip from the coffee, wincing at the unbearable temperature and the overwhelming sweetness. At your side, Aemond was still staring at the ground, hunched over himself, his hand curled tightly on his knee.

"Then I would be quite disappointed."