❛ ♡. gif credit. ⎯⎯ 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐍. ❜
★ ⎯⎯ prince aemond and his betrothed take a stroll together in the royal gardens, though a bit more happens on this ‘stroll’ than he had previously anticipated.
𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗋’𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾: i don’t really know what this is, but i was heavily caffeinated & wanted to write something with mostly fluff in it, so… happy reading & enjoy ! ♡
𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌: mdni, suggestive themes, slightly dark!aemond, profanity, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, first kiss (reader), period-typical sexism, misogyny (women are more than breeding machines, aemond!), innocence kink, breeding kink, possessive & obsessive behavior, pet names, romance, fluff—any grammatical errors are my own -- in advance, i sincerely apologize.
𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍: 1.7k
𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐖𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒.
aemond could recall the way you smelled by memory—like freshly ripened strawberries, white roses, sweetened vanilla, your hair was always luscious and soft, like the white satin dress you chose to wear today due to the summer heat in king’s landing.
or maybe, you wished to seek out and gain more of his attention?
if aemond were to be honest with himself, it worked—oh, how it worked.
“tell me, darling—is the color of your lily-white dress an indication of your virtue?” he mused, causing your cheeks to flush and become dewy from the early afternoon sun, blooming flowers surrounding the two of you.
you couldn’t speak, too embarrassed by your betrothed’s sudden teasing, besides… how scandalous would it be if someone were to eavesdrop on your conversation with the one-eyed prince.
aemond smirked, amused by your shy reaction.
‘twas not as if you were in private, no—the prince demanded your presence once he had finished with his morning training, wishing to take you on a stroll in the royal gardens of the red keep, knowing how much you adored the sight of flowers.
still, no matter how scandalous your dress seemed to others, the heat in king’s landing was quite stifling—even more so with aemond carefully observing you, his amethyst eye sharp and intense as he walked alongside you, not paying any attention to the flowers around you both.
aemond was content to just simply gaze down at you, his own pretty, little flower—soon to blossom into a woman grown, as soon as he would take you under his protection as his lady wife, as far as traditions go.
he made you incredibly nervous—with his long strands of silver hair, his sharp, handsome features, his prominent nose, his lithe but strong frame, his tall height (which towered over you), those soft, naturally curved lips of his… seven above, you could go on and on!
unbelievably, you seemed to have his full, undivided attention, which made your heart flutter—having the prince all to yourself?
you felt as if you were in some sort of dream—perhaps, you were.
especially with the way aemond treated you—respectful and kind, though you could always see a darkened gleam in his one-eye, as if he were holding himself back from something.
it made your soft, inner thighs slick with arousal—it also had you praying to the seven above each and every evening before bed, begging for forgiveness for your depraved thoughts of your betrothed.
in any case, aemond was much, much worse than you.
aemond could not seem to control himself around you, his cock hardening by the second the more he spent his time with you—alone.
“my sweet lady,” he murmured, interrupting your compliments of the colorful flowers, as he allowed you to do most of the talking as you two walked together, side by side.
aemond was never big on conversation, he never had been, preferring to stay silent and keep his thoughts concealed to himself, in fear of being mocked as he was when he was just a child.
you paused, looking up at the prince—his one natural eye was amethyst in color, the other a sparkling sapphire gem he’d stuffed into his left eye socket when he was just a boy, after his eye had been stolen by his bastard nephew.
however, as you looked up at aemond, there was only one word in your mind—beautiful.
still, he was touched that you didn’t seem afraid of him—in fact, you seemed greatly insulted when he would wear his leather eyepatch around you, claiming it unnecessary and that you wished to see your betrothed whole—every single inch of him.
perhaps, that was the moment aemond one-eye fell irrevocably in love with you.
a moment of silence passed—not uncomfortable, just two soon-to-be lovers gazing at each other.
“may i kiss you, my lady?” he questioned, watching your doe eyes widen, your pink, plump lips parting open slightly in surprise.
“k-kiss me?” you stammered, so sweet and innocent and his.
you didn’t have it in your heart to deny him—in fact, you wanted nothing more than to feel his plush, curved mouth upon yours—desperately.
you nodded, eagerly giving him your consent.
aemond chuckled, quiet and breathy, amused by your sudden eagerness—his shy girl no longer.
immediately, without waiting another second, the prince moved to cup the sides of your flushed face with both of his big, calloused hands, before bending his knees slightly and capturing your lips in a needy, passionate kiss—hearing you release a soft, breathy moan of bliss.
aemond hummed, pleased.
unexpectedly, you kissed him back with just as much enthusiasm, though a bit clumsy, making him think to himself that perhaps this was your first kiss—your first kiss with a man.
the idea excited aemond, which also caused his cock to ache with need—to feel your wet, tight little cunt wrapped around his cock, squeezing him like a vise, right before he would start fucking into your warmth at a frenzied pace, mad with lust for you.
you were a soft, sensitive little thing, with a heart made of glass, meant to be protected, loved, spoiled… and aemond was the perfect man for the role.
he’d cherish you like his queen, love you with every breath he took and beat of his heart—the kind of love that would be told for centuries to come—legendary.
after several seconds of growing accustomed to the way your lips molded together—so perfectly—aemond easily slipped his tongue into your mouth—exploring its delicious sweetness.
strawberries, white roses, and sweetened vanilla.
your scent, your taste—it all filled his senses, making his cock strain more and more inside of his leather breeches, while he continuously kissed you more and more, like a man starved until he thought he could never stop.
clearly, you could not either.
your soft hands clawed at his back, tugging on his long strands of silver hair, clinging to his lithe form with desperation—a need so strong, aemond had half the mind to bend you over the nearest bench, lift up your pretty, silk skirts and fuck you from behind like a wild beast in his rut.
after several longer moments, you pulled away, gasping for air, though your lips still continued to gently brush against his, both of you panting and sharing the same breath—lips kiss swollen and desperate for more from one another.
aemond’s eyes were heavy lidded and filled with lust—his amethyst eye practically dilated black and his sparkling sapphire eye shining dangerously with the need to touch you, to fuck you, to spill his seed deep inside of your womb—so deep, you’d be carrying his son by morning.
nevertheless, aemond was a gentleman—he could be patient, though that didn’t stop his depraved thoughts of taking your maidenhead on your wedding night, which was quickly approaching by the days—thank the gods.
soon, you’d be his wife—his lady targaryen.
his and only his.
“perhaps, we s-should return b-back inside, my prince? ‘tis nearly lunchtime… the queen mother requested my presence—she wishes to go over the flower arrangements for our wedding,” you spoke breathlessly, your voice slightly shaky from the intensity of the kiss you both shared.
aemond hummed, nodding his head once in agreement, his face returning back to its usually stoic expression—though his cheeks were still tinted pink and his cock was surely leaking inside of his breeches now… as if he were a little boy once again!
how fucking ridiculous, that he had gotten hard after just simple kissing—however, technically it wasn’t just ‘simple kissing’, not when he was so hopelessly in love.
instantly, aemond offered you one of his lean arms, a silent offer to escort you to his dearest mother’s private solar… and maybe even indulge in some of the ladies newest gossip about your upcoming nuptials—if only to spend more time in your presence.
aemond could not give less of a fuck about what any of the simpering, aggravating noblewomen had to say or gossip about—he only cared for you and what you had to say.
therefore, he would endure the torturous boredom of the ladies of the court, even if he thought each and every single one of them were poisonous, nasty creatures.
be that as it may, aemond would only do such a thing to remain by your side for the rest of the day… and to harshly glare threateningly at any lady who even looked at you the wrong way.
it seemed, the longer aemond spent his time in your gentle presence, the more he grew obsessed—your beautiful and relaxing voice, your sweet smiles, your gentle touch, your naïveté.
seven hells, you were the most breathtaking creature he’s ever had the pleasure of seeing, even with only his one-eye.
when aemond did observe you, which was quite often now as he couldn’t bare to tear his eye away from you, he’d notice the little things about you—causing his world to stop and revolve only around you.
you, you, you.
snapping out of his lovesick thoughts, aemond glanced down at you as you looped your own arm around his offered one, making his blacked heart give a tiny flutter as you smiled so prettily up at him.
“shall we, my sweet lady?” he questioned, his voice a low rasp, controlled and steady, but he did try his best effort with being soft with you, not wanting to scare you off and have you believe the vile rumors spread about him from the court gossipers.
he knew he had quite the temper, the targaryen madness, they called it.
you giggled, “of course, my prince.”
fuck, aemond was quite certainly fucking doomed by having you as his future lady wife—so sweet, caring and loving, the way you seemed so docile and yearned for children of your own… you’d make a lovely mother to his sons, that he was certain.
just as a lovely mother to his future heirs, you’d also make the most perfect wife, he decided.
obedient, doting, gentle, tender and loving—aemond could not wait to make you his little wife, and have his firstborn son swelling inside of your womb.
until then, aemond would portray himself as the perfect gentleman (as usual)—that is, until your wedding night arrives.
fin
go & check it out y’all ! ♡
