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madame-fear · 1 year ago

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“jealous? who, me? impossible” *is actually seething with rage & jealousy* with Aemond

The reader is highborn and is crowded the queen of love and beauty by some knight in a tourney

And aemond could give two fucks about tourney but after this he participates for the next day competition.

(Basically if u could write a smuty encounter between aemond and the reader the night she's crowded the queen of love and beauty the 1st time)

Hope ur having a good day <3

*ೃ༄ 𝐏𝐋��𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 .ೃ࿐

★ amira speaks! : i hope you enjoy this my dear, and it was what you expected !! Forgive me for my not-profesionally-written smut. — summary : request. — word count : 6.1k

— pairing : aemond targaryen x highborn!princess!reader — genre : smut.

— prompt : 2. “jealous? who, me? impossible” *is actually seething with rage & jealousy*

TW | fingering, jealous sex, slight profanity. Slight oral fixation and choking too, maybe?

A tourney had been hosted by your father for your nameday.

The crowd watching the tournament vigorously cheered, gasping occasionally when one of the jousting knights fighting their opponents were violently thrown against the ground; some nearly getting stomped by their own neighing horses.

Having grown as a close ally of House Targaryen, your House had been invited by House Targaryen to celebrate your nameday in King’s Landing, and even host a tourney in your honour.

Sitting in one of the front rows in the small, secluded square where members of the royal Houses could sit to watch the tournament away from the commoner’s crowd, a vast smile was spread across your lips, nearly showing your teeth. Your eyes twinkled with excitement as you joyfully cheered along the crowd, flinching as well when the knights nearly killed one another — or even brutally jousted and harmed themselves, leaving several crimson spatters of blood spread across the ground.

Your hands were clasped together, attentively gawking with your stare upon every single knight jousting. Prince Aemond, whom had grown close to you during your childhood, sat by your side seemingly unimpressed; his fist rested under his chin, and his other arm was sitting on the arm rail of the wooden chair, tapping it with his fingers. With his one eye, he discreetly adverted his gaze at you occasionally, faintly smiling to himself rather amused at how much you seemed to be enjoying yourself.

That, was the only thing managing to amuse him at all during the tournament. How you stood from your chair keenly cheering for the winning knights, with a spark of delight that vividly shone in your eyes. Though, he was never one to admit such thoughts.

As one of the knights jousting had managed to taken down his opponent, ferouciously throwing the other knight off his — now hysterical from the abruptly violeny movements — horse and into the ground. A brief second of flinching appeared in your facial expressions, out of pity at that poor harmed knight in the ground, being taken away off the jousting grounds. Either way, you had abruptly decided to stand up from your seat, and vigorously clap in excitement along the crowd, cheering for the winning knight.

The One Eyed Prince never bothered in demonstrating that he wasn’t impressed at all during the tournament, contuining to sit down with his usual stoic expression rather than clap along you and the other members of your family, gazing down at the winning knight that sauntered on top of his horse towards the royal square where your Houses sat to watch the tournament, beginning to take his helmet off. The knight had a rather smug grin on his lips. The knight carefully lifted his spear upwards towards the royal space where you all sat.

“May I ask a favour from Princess (y/n)?” he inquired. A little girlish smirk formed at the corner of your lips, as you stood to take hold of a flower crown as some sort of prize for winning. After his words, the knight continued; his grin growing slightly wider. “Or should I say, a favour from the Queen of Love and Beauty?”

Aemond’s fingers abruptly stopped tapping against the armrester of the chair he sat on. His focus felt slightly more down-to-earth the moment he heard the knight refer to you as the Queen of Love and Beauty, making him sit straighter on his chair. Without paying the slightest of mind to Aemond, swooning slightly over the knight, you slided the flower crown down across his spear. A faint rosy tint crept on your cheeks, beginning to smear throughout your entire face.

“May the Seven bless you with luck, Ser.” you muttered, cautiously studying his captivating eyes as the flower crown fell down on his spear. The knight kept his eyes fixed on your own, giving you a single bow down with his head, continuing to pridefully grin to himself. You were a true Westerosi delicacy, and it was no secret that you had most knights and Lords swooning silently over you behind your back; something which Aemond resented entirely.

The Prince bit his inner cheek, holding back a sneer from the same jealousy he felt from knowing how badly most men that met you chased after you, absolutely lovestruck. The words of the knight seemed to fuel said resentment inside of the Prince’s chest, feeling it dreadfully burn like a sizzling dragonfire. It was a very audacious comment, coming from the winning knight. Unconsciously, the bright blue eye of Aemond remained bitterly gawking upon the knight with vehement ire. He never seemed to notice, you had once again sat by his side as soon as the next round of the tournament began. Along the crowd, you kept clapping.

“The Queen of Love and Beauty, I had certainly never heard someone call me in such a way.” you whispered, leaning closer against Aemond’s body enough for only him to hear your statement, craning your head briefly to stare at him. In a way, you felt flattered to be referred to in such an endearing manner, and it seemed that you had never even realised the bitter burden of jealousy overwhelming him with every passing second. And what bothered him the most, was the dazzled look in your eyes the second the knight complimented you with the nickname.

“Hm.” was all he managed to mutter in between his teeth, clenching his jaw. But either way, it didn’t seem to bother you, as your stare had gone back to look at the tourney with zest.

During what was left of the tourney, the Prince used his time to plan on how to prove who you belonged to, and you weren’t going to object against it. Not that he would let you escape from his grip to escape with someone else so easily.

A few hours had passed after the tournament, and after celebrating your nameday with the rest of the members from House Targaryen, and your very own.

Strolling through the halls, your feet guiding you towards the guest chamber you slept in for the night before having to return to your own castle the next day, a quietly exhausted yawn escaped from your lips. It had been a long day, but one held keenly and with great enthusiasm for you to have a delightful nameday. And especially, the way a pretty knight referred to you as “the Queen of Love and Beauty” was something that never failed for a little smile to dance upwards in the corner of your lips whenever you remembered it.

As you approached your chambers, you heard a few hushed steps echoing behind of you in the stillness of the dimly lit halls. But you ignored them, believing it could have simply been a maid or a guard.

“The Queen of Love and Beauty.” were the only words heard behind your back. Your eyebrows furrowed curiously at the sound of a familiar voice, causing you to turn around for once and for all. It was none other than Aemond. The Prince stood firmly in the middle of the hall, with his arms behind his back as usual. “I believe it, to be quite audacious for a knight to so abruptly try to charm away a highborn Princess such as yourself, in that manner.” as he spoke in a rather hushed tone, only for you to hear, he began strolling towards you.

The mere thought of it was enough to gnaw on his soul with a burning jealousy that consummed him. Tilting your head to your side ever so slightly, your eyebrows remained furrowed, and helplessly, a scoff rolled away from your lips. “I don’t believe it to be audacious at all. I found it rather... dreamy, of him to crown me with such title.” oh, it seemed as if your words worked like charm to make his ire towards the knight to increase. The One Eyed Prince would just terminate the life of the knight with a single fire from Vhagar, if he could.

Perhaps it was the awkward silence looming between the two of you as soon as you finished talking, or the tension in the atmosphere, or the seething look on his face as he walked towards you — but you slowly fell into the realisation of why he followed you across the halls, simply to make that statement. A scoff escaped from you, with a grin growing wider.

How could you have been so oblivious? You should have realised his feelings during the tourney, when he will simply hum in response to your comments shortly after the knight complimented you. “Aemond,” you began speaking, as you smirked, walking closer to Aemond as well just like he did. “Don’t tell me... you are jealous?”

Jealous; that word echoed on his head. How he despised to even think about it, but he was, indeed, jealous to know a knight had somehow managed to make you swoon with a mere nickname. It should have been HIM, your childhood best friend and the one that knew you better than you could possibly knew yourself, the one that cherished you deeply, being the one making you swoon like a little girl with a crush. How could you not notice, the way his eyes always lurked around your presence?

“Jealous? Who, me?” he retorted, trying to hide a bit of a manic smirk that mixed between anger, and desperation. “That’s impossible.” he was just like an angry little boy throwing a tantrum on the inside, and failing to keep it hidden. It was adorable, in a way. The same way you had been oblivious to how he felt initially during the tourney, he was oblivious to the way you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. So enigmatically silent, reserved, and intelligent. And despite having adored him your whole life ever since you befriended one another, you could feel yourself enjoying to tease him.

“Oh, please, Aemond. Don’t try to pretend, do you think I’m stupid enough to not reali-”

A small yelp unexpectedly spurred from your lips as you were firmly pushed by the tall Targaryen Prince against the wall. He had you cornered, and his shadow towered your own small presence as he stood in front of you. One of his hands firmly held your waist, as the other one was vigorously wrapped around your neck. It was a tight grip, but not enough to harm you in any possible way. Hurting you was the least of things Aemond could possibly want; he simply had an odd way of expressing his craving for you, especially with the jealousy overwhelming any possible coherent thought.

“You have no idea how much I detest seeing you swoon over any other man, or Lord, or knight. I always have.” the Targaryen Prince began whispering, with his jaw clenching forcibly. “I should be the one making you feel that way. I can’t believe how oblivious you are.” you slightly gulped, his chest being tightly pressed against your own. Your lips were partly open, trying to catch some air, which made his grip soften slightly, but still made you remain against the wall.

“I want you, (y/n). I never wanted anyone else but you, and I don’t want any other man to possibly catch your attention.”

Aemond did feel jealous, and he wanted so badly to rub it in your face in a discreet manner without actually having to use the word “jealousy”. You boldly sneered, finding yourself amused to have him practically suffering at the thought of sharing your attention with another man. Your hands travelled across his chest, turning them into fists and tightly taking hold of his clothing, forcing him to lean closer to you as you tiptoed rather weakly. The One Eyed Prince felt slight confusion at your actions, but allowed you to move as you wished; curiously awaiting to know further what you would do or say next.

“I can’t believe how oblivious you are, either.” you whispered back with a little smirk growing upwards in the corner of your lips, grasping them against his own. “You really can’t see how much I enjoy having you all jealous, and whiny.”

The Prince seemed surprised at your sudden boldness and your confession, but wasn’t complaining at all. Gently, you took his lower lip with your own lips, fluttering your eyes shut. A small crimson tint appeared leisurely on the paleness of his face. Such a moment could only happen in the own fantasies he had every single night, before falling into the hands of a deep slumber. His grip on your waist tightened, feeling the need of dominating you, have you only for himself, craving to taste every inch of your essence.

Softly, he pushed you further against the wall. The hand wrapped around your neck loosened it’s grip, only to teasingly travel towards your chin; his thumb moving upwards to roughly caress your lower lip the brief moment you managed to break apart from each other’s lips. “Skorkydoso kostagon ao sagon nykeā dōna byka mirre? (how can you be such a sweet little thing?)” he crooned, leaning his head down to place his lips on certain sweet spots of your neck. Instinctively, you threw your head back, giving him more carnal access for his own delight.

Gently, yet needily, he began pampering your velvet skin with several teasing pecks. Aemond smiled in between kisses, “If only you had an idea of all the things I wish to do to you.” he muttered, kissing your jawline as the hand on your waist descended, beginning to play with the hem of your dress; it seemed he tried to lift it, being rather discreet with his movements as you were dumbfounded by his kisses and nearly growled words. “And now, you will only belong to me. No one else’s.” a whimper escaped from your lips, accompanied immediatly by a surprised yelp the second you felt the warmth of his hand slip under your dress, travelling more intimately through your trembling leg, guiding it to the waistband of your underwear.

His fingers moved rather eagerly, almost screaming desperate, as they began fidgeting on the silky texture of your panties. His thumb ran across your lower lip, tilting his head slightly to one side as he admired every inch of your delicate, beauteous features. You were such a pretty, pretty little woman. The things he would do to, and with you, were too long to possibly list; it was more than he would ever do with anyone else. The Prince had the primitive impulse of establishing his dominance upon you, to see you submissively giving into his touch, and the way he carefully gawked his stare upon you.

A shiver ran through your body as his fingertips moved dreadfully slow around your skin, moving the waistband of your underwear in a notoriously aggressive, needy manner. The adrenaline overwhelmed him, being like a burden on his chest and fogging his coherent thoughts. Aemond had always been rather delicate and gentle around you, treating you like the true Princess you were; but you also awakened an animalistic instinct inside of him, a burning passion that ignited inside of him like dragonfire. Your core throbbed, aching in need of feeling more from him, feeling it leisurely become moist.

In the blink of an eye, using only one of his hands, he forced the panties to drop out of their place, sliding nearly to your knees. A soft whimper timidly escaped from your lips, feeling the cool breeze from the atmosphere beginning to creep under your dress, tenderly hitting against your wetly exposed genitalia. The look on your face was satisfying enough for him, just like he had always fancied to imagine how you would react at his intimate touching. “The Queen of Love and Beauty is such a pretty little whore for my touch, isn’t she?” a small chuckle spurred from his lips, guiding his hand to your inner thigh. Oh, how much he delighted himself attentively staring at your rather reactive face whenever he caressed you near those spots.

His firm touch intensified, teasingly beginning to place his digits on your moist folds. It was a mere, slight contact, not even fully touching you; simply placing his fingertips there. Your breath hitched at his hot contact, fluttering your eyes shut. “A-Aemond, please...” you pleaded, begging to feel, at least, his fingers inside of you. Aemond’s smirk grew wider, enjoying the effect he had a you. The One Eyed Prince knew only he could provoke such reactions from you, and no one else’s. No Lord, no silly little knight trying to impress you - no other. Your pleas impressed him enough to begin stroking your folds, making slow movements downwards, and then going up briefly.

“Please what?” even if took great enjoyment out of teasing you, and having you quivering under his fingertips, he couldn’t deny even himself wished to accelerate the process, dying to be inside of you at this very precise instant. An uncomfortable, growing hardness was felt under his own underwears, being a few seconds away from the bulge to poke out of his pants. Your sweet little begging was enough to turn him on, especially noticing how you could barely even speak properly. “P-Please, don’t tease...” you cried out, mewling hushedly.

A scoff escaped from him. But since he craved it as much as you did, he would do as it pleased (both) of you. Aemond abruptly pushed two of his fingers inside of you, making your lips part briefly, only to allow a scream of pleasure escape from you. Immediatly, using his other hand, he moved his thumb to your lips, trying to avoid getting caught in the middle of the hall by either a guard, or a servant.

The feeling of your moistness wetting his fingers inside your tight cavity felt strangely pleasant. As his thumb forcibly made his way to enter your mouth, in between your teeth merely to enjoy your little whimpers of frustrations — not allowing you to loudly moan, or cry —, his fingers began moving deeper inside your tight little cunt.

“You like this, don’t you?” aemond whispered, smirking to himself provokingly as the two fingers he had stuck inside of you began moving roughly — but not enough to possibly harm you —, causing a slight fleshy sound due to all the dripping slick coming out of you. “You have such a delightful, tight little cunt. It’s both sweet and surprising to know, that a pretty princess such as yourself hasn’t been deflowered just yet.”

Pushing you against the wall as his thumb entered your mouth to caress your tongue, a hushed moan escaped weakly from you. Your legs quivered weakly, especially when he began wiggling his fingers inside of you, feeling as if you were going to melt under his touch anytime. It didn’t take long for the Prince to notice the way your body wobbled from pleasure, as your eyes fluttered shut and your face frowned very, very slightly. “I doubt a knight, or Lord, could make you feel the way I make you feel.”

With each word he whispered, his movements seemed to become rougher. It took him all the patience and effort in the world, to not wildly fuck your moist pussy right there and allow you to scream out loud his name for everyone to know who you truly belonged to. The hardness between his legs was painful, but he preferred to wait until he could properly get himself inside of you, in a better and more private environment.

Thr building up of excitement was not only felt by him, but was particularly felt by you. With every passing second that he shamelessly finger-fucked you, his movements seeming to become more savage the more time passed, a wave of heat overwhelmed your chest on the inside, feeling it tightening you dreadfully. You felt hot, and weak. You needed to feel more of him. Quietly, you moaned his name in a muffled manner as his thumb caressed your tongue grossly, with the Prince enjoying the sight. All he ever wanted, was to have you begging more of him, and the moment finally came.

Some huffs escaped you as you felt a firey sensation building a knot in your stomach, feeling how wetter you became with each finger penetration. “No one will ever make you be this wet, or fuck you the way I will fuck you.” he continued, growling slightly under his breath. Seven Hells, he enjoyed the teasing, but it was even painful for himself to only be able of fingering you at the present moment.

As his fingers became rougher in movement, he suddenly let his thumb out of your mouth, making you yelp. Aemond leaned his head closer to you, reaching your neck, and placing some soft kisses that made you squirm under his lips. What used to be kisses, soon enough turned into gentle nibbling, and then, he dared to bite you. You felt submissive enough to admit that, as painful as the way he bit you on the sensitive spots of your neck was, it simultaneously made you feel even better.

“A-Aemond,” you whimpered quietly. Your moans became greater in sound, echoing through the dimly lit halls. You felt as if you were reaching your orgasm. “Fuck,” as you cursed under your breath, you allowed your head to rest against the wall, giving him more access to bite on your skin. In between bites, he allowed himself to take a peek at how some bruises formed on your precious due to his lovebites.

Parting your lips open, a loud wail of pleasure escaped from you, feeling an electrical sensation running all over your body, giving you goosebumps. Fluttering your eyes shut, you felt a wave of your slick violently coming out from you, running down to his fingers. Having you orgasm under his fingers was going to be one of the Prince’s greatest prides. A quiet groan escaped from his lips, feeling your wetness on his fingers, with your legs furiously quivering from the orgasm.

Soon after you had your very first orgasm, your body rested against the wall, and the Prince rested his body against your very own; both of you panted from the way your breath had sharpened due to the excitement of the moment. It had felt heavenly, and this was just using his very own fingers. You had to admit, you were eager the next time for the next time you would have the chance to privately visit him. All the while, his fingers rested inside of you, as he raised his lips to your earlobe, nibbling on it very gently.

“If you try and fuck somebody else, think of me, Queen of Love and Beauty.” he whispered, only to then place a soft kiss on your cheekbone, and abruptly let his fingers out of your abused pussy. You whimpered, feeling a sudden empty sensation inside of you. The way your pussy throbbed for him painfully ached, looking at him with a desperately needy look in your face.

“Rest well, my love.” aemond spoke again, before you could respond anything, briefly caressing your cheek with the back of his index finger. His eye observed your features carefully before he left, wanting to leave your needy expressions scarred on his mind. “I hear there will be another tourney, so I am certain we will meet in the morrow as my House will want your House to stay a while loger.”

Opening your lips to answer, still panting, the Prince soon turned around and began walking away with his hands behind his back, leaving you alone and without allowing to give him a response. As a man of his word, you would see him again; but this time, you will see him taking part in the tournament. And he very keenly had an idea of who he would be delighted to have as his opponent.

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