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#jacaerys valaryon x you

nightskyslayer2 · 1 year

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Aegon being extremely jealous because of Jaces obvious crush on his wife, showing her and their nephew she is his and his only.

Aegon x sister!wife!reader x Jacaerys SMUT

Part I (Part II)

It was a beautiful spring morning in kingslanding. A warm breeze flowing in the shared chambers of y/n and Aegon through the open windows. The princesses white hair gently flew in the wind as she sat at the table, quietly reading a book in peace as she had a few more minutes before breakfast would be served.

Y/n turned to the next page of her novel when suddenly the doors of the chamber opened with a loud noise. The poor girl jumped in her seat and got so scared, she almost fell off her chair. She cussed under her breath but relaxed as soon as she saw her dear brother and husband in front of her. “Gods, Aegon!”

Aegon chuckled, clearly amused by y/ns silly and anxious behaviour. “What?” he laughed warmly “am I not allowed to enter my own chambers anymore?” His cocky smile made y/n roll her eyes but she couldn’t help but laugh too. “You stomped in here as if I was in danger” she giggled and closed her book, standing up to greet her husband properly. Her brother still had this stupid grin on his face but it turned into a loving smile as soon as the princess reached up to kiss his cheek. His hands slung around her waist as he kissed her cheek - or rather the corner of her mouth - too. Y/n giggled in his arms, her head now resting against his chest, enjoying the tight embrace of his and breathing in his comforting scent. Aegon smiled down at his dear wife with loving eyes but it didn’t take long for the prince to find something to disturb this peaceful moment.

His gaze caught the eye of the big orange bouquet of flowers sitting on the table. Usually Aegon didn’t pay much attention to the decorations in their room, he couldn’t care less, but a bouquet as bright and as big as this one he surely would had taken notice of. It hadn’t been there yesterday.

His eyebrows furrowed in concern and he gently pushed his wife away from his chest. “Who gifted you these flowers y/n?” Aegon said while walking up to the colourful bouquet on the table. “There’s someone in the castle sending my wife flowers?- and you tolerate it?” He said as he took them out of the vase already devoted and ready to throw them out the open window. “No!” y/n stopped her brother by grabbing his underarm. “They are from Jacaerys.” She confessed but instantly regretted her honesty. “Jacaerys?!” He said out loud. “Jacaerys is sending you flowers??!” His tone was getting louder and more offending. “what on earth does this little bastard think he’s doing?” Aegon forcefully threw the bouquet onto the table and turned his body in rush, ready to stomp off in anger.

“Aegon please… Jacaerys was just being nice.” Y/n pleaded him to stay calm. “Being nice.” He scoffed. “Being nice to a wedded woman. My woman... He lost his mind” Aegon was in rage but y/n on the other hand had learned to stay calm and gently cupped his heated face.

“No, you’re about to loose your mind dear husband. Our nephew is no threat to us. He’ll never be. Don’t you worry” Her words and eyes full of love made him actually calm down a bit. “It’s not you I’m worried about in the first place” he said with some sadness and annoyance in his tone “he wants you y/n… you know he does. He always did… since we were children.”

Aegon was so protective over her. This man was constantly worried and scared she’ll leave him just like everybody else. Always anxious someone better than him will steal her away. He knew he had some complications and a concerning past but y/n change him. He was trying so hard to be better for her because in his opinion his sister only deserved the best. He still oh so often struggled with his feelings and the pressure he felt by others but y/n loved every fibre of his being.

“So? Jacaerys doesn’t matter. Who’s hand am I holding under the tables? Who’s arms am I sleeping in every night?” the young princess started to caress his cheek, showing him that there’s no other man she’ll ever be interested in and that there’s no reason to be worried about her or their nephew. “And whom did I swear loyalty to in front of the seven?” she paused, looking up at his softening lilac eyes. “Who’s child am I with?”

Aegon smiled at her last comment, never had he doubted at any chance given that y/n had laid with any other man than him. He gently placed his hand onto her stomach, the news she had told him a few moons ago were the best he had ever received. His heart ached with love at the thought of a little heir growing inside his beautiful y/n. His sister then slowly put her own hand over his, grinning up at him in true devotion and excitement.

But Aegons smile didn’t stay long on his lips. It dropped as soon as he had glanced over at the flowers again. He was staring at them for a few seconds, then returned to look into y/ns confused big eyes. “I still don’t like them.” he said dryly and the princess laughed at her silly husband. She kissed Aegons cheek sweetly before she hugged him yet again. “Orange? Awful choice he made.”

Shortly after, a maid had knocked and informed the couple that the family will be having breakfast in the gardens for the sake of their old king and father and the warm spring breeze this morning. To y/ns surprise Aegon contained himself very well, as it was now the first time he had seen Jacaerys again after the whole flower debate going on. He maybe was glaring at him every now and then but that was it. Aegon was trying really hard to focus on y/ns words she had told him earlier and just ignore him for the better.

Y/n was talking and laughing with her sister Helaena, sitting opposite of her, when Aegon noticed that their oldest nephew had been blushing and looking over at his wife for longer than his liking would allow him to. Aegon couldn’t help himself but scoff out loud in annoyance. Y/ns hair was gently laying on her back and over her shoulders, giving Jacaerys full view of her neck and cleavage. The princess could sense Jaces’ staring too but decided to send the brown haired boy a smile for appreciation before turning to her sister again.

That’s when Aegon couldn’t stand his nephews thirsting anymore. He abruptly stood up with plates and cups slightly shaking and held out his hand for y/n to take it. “Care to take a walk with me through the botanic gardens dear wife?” He stretched out the word ‘wife’ so hard it made their brother Aemond chuckle in his seat in amusement. Of course not only y/n and Aegon knew of Jacaerys crush on her. The poor boy was quite obvious to say the least and almost the whole red keep could connect the little puzzle pieces flying around.

Aegon linked his arm with his sisters and y/n and him disappeared around the corner. As soon as they were out of sight Aegon pushed her against a tree. Not too forcefully, as he knew there’d be a great possibility of y/n being with child, but also not quite gentle.

Y/n looked back at her husband in shock. Has he lost his mind now? But before she could say anything her brother pressed himself against her, trapping her between his body and the tree, slowly leaning in to whisper in her ear. “You’re mine.” He claimed. “You said it yourself but then you innocently smile at him…” her brothers fingers closed tightly on her hair and he warningly yanked her head back. “… as if you didn’t know about our nephews intentions to fuck you”. Y/n accidentally moaned at his action which drew a big sly smirk on Aegons lips. He hummed in her neck as he now hectically fumbled around with her dress in a hurry. He’d never admit it but he loved that stupidly innocent face expression of hers. It made him want to fuck any last sense out of her. His hungry eyes were looking down at y/ns pleading face. Little did he know how much she loved her brothers roughness whenever he got all angry and jealous.

But of course, Y/n knew better than to provoke him. When they were younger she often intended to and teased him on purpose but it didn’t quite end well. Not for the involved men and not for her nor Aegons own health. He had fucked his sister stupid for days, y/n secretly enjoying it but him on the other hand secretly suffering because the kind of neglect he experienced through it was all too familiar with him. He needed insurance and safety and it broke him to see his sister doing things like that just for fun. Luckily y/n had realised this as they grew older but to be fair, this time she truly just had smiled at Jace in matter of being nice and to end his staring. But apparently Aegons boiling blood because of their nephews behaviour had happened to spill over today.

it completely spilled

He had enough. Y/n was his. And he wanted to take her. No, he was going to take her. He was going to show her what smiling at other men would do. And especially he wanted to make himself feel better and more powerful and previlaged as their pathetic nephew Jacaerys, because he and only he could fuck his dear wife at anytime he wanted.

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen x you #aegon imagine #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x you #hotd aegon #house of the dragon #aegon targaryen smut #aegon targaryen x reader smut #jacaerys valaryon x you #jacaerys strong x reader #jacaerys valaryon x reader

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amisa-k · 7 months

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their reactions to you teasing them with your foot under the table during dinner

part 1

part 2

aegon

can't wait for this boring feast to end, so he starts to drink a lot of wine. but when your foot under the table touches his leg, he instantly sobers up and looks at you with a smirk. will shamelessly tease you back.

aemond

tries not to show it, but you can see the tips of his ears turning red. his fingers grip the cutlery too tightly and he chews too hard. he will not let you get away with this and will play back as soon as there is an opportunity.

jacaerys

blushes instantly. not only his cheeks are red, but his whole face, ears and neck. tries to behave naturally, but he barely manages to suppress moans and ragged breath. comes up with some stupid excuse to leave dinner early and take you with him because he can't take your teasing anymore.

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sapphire-writes · 11 months

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Sweet Fruit ~ Jace x Snow!Reader

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

summary: You and Prince Jacaerys cannot stay away from each other, no matter how much you need to.

rating: 18+ (detailed warnings below the cut)

note: specifically for my love @osferthsbussy😘

warnings: p in v, spanking, choking, size k*nk lowkey, slight humiliation, punishment, fem receiving oral, breeding kink

Since the encounter in your chambers, you waited with bated breath for Prince Jacaerys to arrive at your door later that night. You’d taken a hot bath to prepare, lathering yourself in sweet oils and wrapping yourself in your favorite shift.

You seated yourself in front of the fire, wrapped in furs, and waited.

And waited.

The night grew longer and your candles burned until the wicks were spent, a hole gnawed in your gut at your empty bed.

You try not to appear too disappointed, though you do not see the Prince for several days after this incident. He has gone with Cregan to hunt, and does not return for nearly a week’s time. Even then, he avoids you, until Cregan announced a feast at the week’s end.

There was no avoiding you then. You’d dressed in your best gown for the occasion, a deep maroon, with an exceptionally tight bodice. Your brother, with the dragon prince by his side, greeted you as you entered the hall.

“Surely you’ve heard the news sister,” Cregan says while embracing you.

Your eyes flicker to Jacaerys before you shake your head.

“We shall ride south, in the name of the true Queen of Westeros, Rhaenyra Targaryen,” Cregan tells you, lifting his goblet high.

You smile incredulously, eyes flickering toward the prince, who shall not meet your eyes.

“Congratulations, my prince,” you tell him bitterly, “The North is truly yours.”

Jace mumbles a thank you, nodding his head politely. He is nothing if not a gentleman.

“I suppose you must be thrilled to head back to your betrothed,” Cregan says, clasping a hand on his back, “I understand Lady Baela was not pleased with your plans to wed her after the war, rather than before.”

“No, she was not,” Jace agreed, brown eyes finally meeting yours.

“She may rest easy knowing you shall be wed soon,” Cregan says, smashing his goblet against Jace’s, “For when the wolves ride south, we shall take your mother’s throne back within the fortnight!”

The hall cheers at Cregan’s words but your eyes are locked on Jace’s. What about me, your eyes ask. What about me?

“Congratulations again, my prince,” you tell him, smiling tightly and curtseying.

You turn away from him, moving into the crowd, but you feel his presence close on your heels.

“Y/N-”

“I’m sure Lady Baela is wonderful,” you tell him, “She shall make a lovely bride.”

Jace reaches out, grabbing your arm. You stop, looking back at him, eyes flickering from his hand that clings to you to his face.

“Careful, my prince,” you tell him, tugging yourself free, “Wouldn’t want people to get the wrong impression.”

You continue moving away from him, deciding to spend the rest of the night dancing, frolicking about, and kissing any man and woman you can get your hands on. Greedy, bastard girl, that’s what you are after all isn’t it? Nothing more, nothing less, least of all to the son of the heir to the Iron Throne.

Hours later a knock comes at your door. You pout, having been ready to drink yourself to a state of dreamless sleep, before opening the door. Jace pushes his way instead, closing the door swiftly behind him. You move away from his grabbing hands, unable to keep the disappointment from your face.

“Careful,” you tell him, “Someone could see. Wouldn’t want any word getting back to your lady wife, now would we?”

Jace stands by the door, hands curled into fists by his side, lower lip held firmly between his teeth. You watch him through watery eyes. His hair has grown longer since his time at Winterfell, the curls falling onto his shoulders. Your hands twitch at your sides; you’d like nothing more than to run your fingers through them.

“What are you doing?” he asks, softly.

“I’ve no idea what you-”

“No,” Jace interrupts, his voice calm, “What are you doing?”

You don’t speak. You just watch him, heart beating erratically in your chest.

“You’re leaving Winterfell,” you tell him.

“Yes,” he says, brown eyes meeting yours.

“Leaving me,” you clarify and he doesn’t answer this time.

You scoff, moving to fill a goblet with wine.

“You’ve acted inappropriately,” Jace tells you, “Tarnishing your reputation, your name-”

“Snow?” you ask, “Tis already tarnished. A bastard is born stained. I shall be this way all my life.”

His nose twitches.

“As shall you,” you hiss.

“The words you speak are treasonous,” he tells you.

“Kill me then,” you demand, “You rather enjoyed my treacherous mouth the other night.”

“Y/N-” he begins, but his voice trails off.

“Lie to yourself all you want,” you tell him, stepping closer, “Go to Dragonstone, marry Baela, father a dozen silver babes, and die.”

Your lip trembles, the word die coming out in almost a whine. Jace looks at you, eyes flickering about your face. He brings his hand to your cheek, stroking away a tear that falls. You close your eyes, trying to turn your face away but he holds your cheek firmly.

“Die,” you repeat, and he brings his hand to cup your other cheek, “Die.”

His lips are on yours and he greedily swallows your heated threat, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You kiss him back, grabbing the front of his shirt, and pulling him against you. It’s hungry and needy and aggressive but you don’t care. In here he is yours; within the walls of Winterfell, he belongs to you.

You tumble backward onto the furs of your bed, letting his weight fall on top of you, stealing the breath from your lungs. You move to remove his clothes, nails scratching at him desperately, one hand winding in his curls. Your center aches without him, you need him inside you desperately.

You’re not a maiden, haven’t been for some time. You’d gifted your maidenhead to a sellsword from White Harbor years ago.

Jace grabs your wrists, pinning them over your head, breathing heavily as his eyes meet yours. Your legs are wrapped around his waist, night shift bunched at your middle.

“You’ve not been kind this evening,” he murmurs in a rough voice, “You’ve tormented me yet again.”

“Tis because you are mine to torment,” you hiss, and he brings a hand to rest at your throat.

“When shall you learn?” he asks, applying the slightest pressure, “What must I do to make you behave?”

“Your cock is a good start,” you tease, feeling the mood begin to lighten, the heat beginning to pool between your thighs.

“You’re a mad woman,” he says, connecting your mouths once more in a passionate kiss.

As soon as he kisses you, he moves from on top of you, dragging you across his lap.

“You do require a lesson,” he tells you, moving your small clothes from your bottom half.

Your breath hitches as your small clothes pool around your ankles. Jace brings his hand down, harshly spanking you, the sound echoing like the cracking logs of your fire. He continues spanking you, one brutal slap after the other, his large hands squeezing and rubbing your aching cheeks between each blow.

You can feel yourself dripping on his thigh, the delicious sting only fueling the ache between your thighs. Your whimpers and sharp cries only spur Jace on as he continues to deliver your punishment.

“Tis not even a punishment,” Jace says, clicking his tongue and running a finger along your soaked folds, “Look how wet you are.”

He releases you then and you crawl off him, slumping to the floor. Humiliation tingles through you as you glance up at him. Jace runs his fingers against his leather-clad thigh, gathering the wetness that pooled there.

His eyes flicker to your face.

“Clean me up,” he orders.

You pause for a moment, before reaching for a handkerchief.

“With your mouth,” he instructs.

You blush scarlet, surprised by his lewd command. But you do as you’re told, positioning yourself between his thighs, bringing your mouth to his leather pants. You lick and suckle, tasting your arousal, whimpering as Jace moves some hair from your face. He’s soon satisfied, pulling your face away and kissing you, dragging you back to straddle him.

“Fuck I love the taste of you,” he says, sucking on your lower lip, “I couldn’t eat, couldn’t drink knowing this is what awaited me.”

He flips you onto your back, kneeling between your legs.

“How does one go back to the food of this realm when they’re tasted ambrosia?” he murmurs, moaning as his mouth covers your dripping slit.

A strangled cry rips through your lungs as his tongue curls against your inner walls. He laps his tongue against you desperately, as though he’s been wandering around the sandy dunes of Dorne, with nothing to quench his thirst. Though he enjoys the sounds you make with his tongue buried as deep as it can go inside of you, he prefers the small moans and pants that are elicited when he circles the tip of his tongue around your needy pearl.

He settles there, at the top of your mound, suckling in your pearl in his mouth until you’re crying out, scraping your nails against his scalp hard enough to draw blood.

Jace moves to lay on top of you, his nose brushing against yours. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him against you.

“Please,” you murmur, “Please, please.”

His brown eyes meet yours, lips brushing against your own as you keep whispering into his mouth.

“Your maidenhead-”

“I’m hardly a maiden,” you admit, cheeks rosy with the confession.

Jace looks at you, eyes wide, not with judgement, but with something else.

“I…” he begins, “I have never…” he trails off, blush blooming on his cheeks.

You smile softly, smoothing his curls away from his face.

“You mean to tell me you are a maiden, my prince?” you softly tease, nails trailing down the side of his throat.

“I just have never…” he struggles to find the words, “Yes, I suppose I am.”

A giggle leaves your lips and Jace finds himself chuckling as well before capturing your lips in a heated kiss once more. You bring your hands to his breaches, feeling the hardness of his manhood eagerly pressing against the constraints of his pants. You free his cock with ease, letting it slap against your hand before wrapping your fingers around him.

A shiver rolls through you at his the thickness of him, the arousal pooling between your legs even more so at the thought of him inside of you.

“Will it…” Jace asks, face scrunching in pleasure as you stroke him, “Gods…will it fit?”

“Mhmm,” you assure him, though you are unsure, “The gods made us for each other.”

Jace kisses you as you guide him towards your throbbing center, running the fat tip of his cock along your soaked slit. Jace’s hips buck as the contact, and he begins to ease himself inside of you.

“Seven above,” he gasps, jaw slacked with pleasure, “Oh Seven save me.”

“Fuck,” you hiss at the burning stretch of him.

It is deliciously painful as he bottoms out, breaking you open, nearly splitting you in half.

“Are you…?”

“A moment,” you tell him, through clenched teeth, “Just a moment.”

“Take all the time,” he assures you, placing soft kisses across your face.

You wait, letting him rest within you before you begin to return his kisses, nodding for him to move. Slowly, carefully he lifts his hips, dragging his cock along your tender walls, before rolling them against you. The sounds you begin to make have Jace trembling above you, continuing his thrusts.

“Seven hells,” he grunts, the sound of skin slapping filling the room, “So tight, so warm, fuck.”

You claw desperately at his shoulders, his back, anywhere that brings him closer to you. His cock feels so perfect inside of you, the pain nearly completing gone and replaced by white hot pleasure.

Jace glances down between you, where you both are connected, watching his soaked cock slide in and out of you. He moves a hand to your lower stomach, pressing down. All the pleasure seems to zero in where he presses, as though he can feel with his hand the bulge of his cock through your lower stomach.

“Jace,” you whine, feeling your limbs tingle with the promise of your imminent release.

“Squeezing me so tight,” he moans, “Fuck, I can feel it.”

Your legs tremble around him as your second climax washes over you, constricitng his cock in a vicelike grip.

“You’ve peaked?” Jace asks, noting the way your face scrunches, the way your cunt constricts him, “Seven hells you’re fucking perfect around me.”

He moves your left leg then, hooking it over his shoulder as he continues to plow into you. Each thrust in your quivering cunt sends heat pooling in your belly.

“Taking me so well,” Jace says, eyes trained on his cock dissappearing inside you, “Seven hells, I’m close, what…”

“Stay,” you beg him, “Stay inside me please.”

Jace’s answering kiss is ferocious, his hips desperately slapping against you, his pace increasing.

“I’ll stay,” he tells you, mouth pressed against yours, “I’ll stay with you.”

Your arms wrap around his neck, kissing him hungrily. Jace moves his lips across your face, down the crook of your neck.

“Seven hells, I’m going to fill you with my seed,” he moans, “Watch you swell with my children.”

“Please,” you tell him, “I’ll give you many sons.”

“How many?” he questions.

“However many you desire,” you whimper, “Keep me full always with your seed, swollen with your child.”

Jace’s answering moan and stuttering of his hips tells you that’s exactly what he intends, as you feel the warmth of his seed fill your throbbing cunny. As he unsheathes himself from you, you can feel your mingled releases dripping from your center.

The unpleasant empty feeling is short lived as Jace plunges two thick fingers inside of you, curling them against your sweet spot. You gasp as he fingers you towards your third peak, utilziing his thumb to tap at your sensitive pearl.

“You must keep it inside you,” he murmurs, “Your cunny responds so well to me.”

“Fuck, fuck!” you squeak, legs thrashing as your peak washes over you.

Jace keeps his fingers sheathed in your cunt, but moves to lay on top of you. Your cunt clenches around his fingers, uncosciously.

“Does my lady need more?” Jace asks, gently curling his fingers, stroking your most sensitive spot.

A sharp whine leaves your lips and you burrow your face against his chest. He chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest.

“No please,” you tell him, “Too much.”

“I shall stop,” he tells you, uncurling his fingers.

“Stay,” you tell him, placing kisses across his chest, “Stay with me.”

Jace doesn’t answer with words, he doesn’t need to. He stays with you the remainder of the night, and the following evening you are bound together beneath the Weirwood tree in the godswood, before the eyes of the Old Gods and the New.

note: hope you liked it! just realized I don't have a Jace taglist so will be reblogging with general HOTD tags!

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bbimharuuu · 1 year

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Targaryens with Snow White! Reader

A/N: This story will be inclusive! (No description for looks, also gender neutral) I'll only be taking a few of the story elements from Snow White. If y'all like the disney princess inspired stories, please let me know so I'll make another one with other families in HOTD or GOT.

Also this story will include Jace x reader! For all of you Jace simps out there 💕

You came from a reputable house, known for their beauty and kindness. Although not powerful, many men and ladies would always jump at the chance of marrying people from your house.

‌Your mother sadly died after childbirth, making your father sad and not as attentive as he should be when taking care of you. Only being there when he is strong enough to look at you, afraid that he'll be sad again as you only reminded him of his one true love.

‌Yet after many years, your father decided to marry his new wife a few days after you just turned six. A woman who cared and acted kind to you, yet it was all just an act. After marrying her, your new mother (or step-mother) would only treat you badly. Making you do chores, wearing rags; all without your father knowing as he slowly turned sick. You were grateful enough that the servants are kind to you, taking care of you when needed.

‌Whispers from the servants told you that your step-mother is scared of your beauty rivaling her, believing that you'll use it against her for your own purposes. You also heard about how your father sickness was partially because your step-mother poisoning him daily with small amounts of poison. You sadly couldn't visit him, always being told by your step-mother that he's to sick or he's meeting with the maesters. But you were too young too notice that it was all lies.

‌After you've heard this rumours, you were treated more harshly. Your step-mother once got physical with you after she found out you were slacking off, playing with the servants. One of the servants who cared for you since birth, took pity on you as you cried to her about not wanting to live here anymore. With the help of the other servants, she decided to send you to Kings Landing to her sisters care. Believing that even though you'll work as a servant, you'll be treated more nicely there.

‌When you arrived, the sister introduced herself as Dayana. She told you to act as if you're her child, playing the role so you could be excused to live in the Red Keep. Fortunately for you, the servants were all kind, only making you do light tasks.

‌In return, you had a lot of free time. Making your way through the gardens, whispering to birds about your secrets to them; anything to make your boredom gone.

‌But luck seemed to be on your side when you encountered the young prince Jacaerys, taking a short break after practicing. He saw you kneeling, a bird on your hand as you whispered to it before softly laughing. Jacaerys frowned before making his way towards you, tapping your shoulder before asking what you were doing.

‌You didn't even look at him in the eyes before replying, "It was telling me about a funny story that they've seen before coming here. It's quite bizarre though." Jace tilted his head in confusion, before sitting next to you. "You can speak to...animals?"

‌"Not all the time, sometimes they don't talk. Sometimes they do. It's just a matter if the animals like you or not," You replied, brushing the bird one final time before it flew away to the sky. Jace hummed, not believing it. But he coughed nervously when you looked at him, only noticing your beauty just now.

‌You both talked with each other about your likes and dislikes, Jace even talked about how he bonded with his dragon, Vermax. You gasped excitedly when you heard about it. "I've never seen a dragon before! Well, not up- close. But I've heard they're very majestic although dangerous."

‌Noticing your excitement about dragons, Jace would propose that you two would meet at certain times to talk about it in the garden. You were odd, claiming you could talk to animals. But Jace found you endearing and beautiful, so it didn't really bother him

‌Soon the both of you will meet every once in a while to talk about things, it doesn't have to be dragons; sometimes Jace would let you ramble on and on about the talks you had with certain animals. He thinks about how you're weird like Helaena, but she didn't claim to be able to talk with the bugs she likes. But he didn't judge you, he just kept listening and maybe add in some comments here and there.

‌Rhaenyra will notice how Jace would be gone as quickly as possible after his lessons are finished. Luke will notice it as well, whining about how his brother wouldn't play with him anymore and only play with the servant girl. Rhaenyra would be interested about this servant girl, thus making her secretly follow Jace to one of your garden meet ups.

‌She noticed how Jace would sit close to you, explaining about the sword trainings and maybe rant about how annoying Aegon was. And you would just sit there listening to him, smiling and nodding. Rhaenyra would approach you after Jace left, making you stutter in nervousness as you bowed to the princess. She tilted her head as she saw your beauty underneath the dirt and rags, maybe a hint of recognition as she remembered hearing of a well known house declaring the missing daughter of said lord.

‌Rhaenyra would calmly ask your informations, subtly asking for it instead of being forceful. You would answer them honestly, yet you would make mistakes here and there about your true identity. You hoped the princess would not notice it, but she did. She covered her smile as she tried to move on past the interesting information she just received.

‌Rhaenyra would see why Jace would be close to you. You were kind and beautiful although you're meek and shy at times. She would develop a strong sense of wanting to protect you after a few meetings, always asking you about how you're doing.

‌This development would certainly not go unnoticed by Daemon, who would act confused as to why his wife and son would be so smitten with a servant girl like you. He decided to approach you, talking to you for a short while before deciding that you were just uninteresting for him.

‌But his interest became piqued once again after he heard Jace talking to Baela about how you could talk to animals. Daemon would approach him, asking if he believes that you could talk to animals. Jace would be hesitant before replying, "At first I didn't believe her. But after many times we met in the garden, her stories are quite accurate about the things that have happened here. It's too detailed for it to be lies, father."

‌Daemon would hum and think for a while, before wanting to test your skills. It's not a common occurrence for someone to be able to talk with animals, let alone a dragon. Dragon riders would only be bonded yet Daemon knew they couldn't fully control the dragons too, so if you are the real deal; then you could be a great help for them.

‌Daemon would instruct Jace to invite you to the Dragonpit, wanting to see how you would talk to the dragons. Jace would not agree with him stating that you've never met dragons, let alone you'd be brave enough to talk with them. But Daemon insisted that you'll be safe because he will be there, watching everything so that you'll be safe (and maybe for his own reasons as well).

‌Of course you would terrified beyond belief! Jace invited you into the Dragonpit was shocking, especially when Jace told you Daemon of all people was the one who requested you. Standing besides him as Jace called Vermax, Daemon placed his hand on your shoulder. "Don't be afraid, little one. Vermax is a bonded dragon, it will listen to Jace if anything wrong will happen at any time." You nodded at him, trying to steel your nerves as Jace leads Vermax in front of you.

‌You sighed deeply before looking Vermax in its eyes. You tilted your head, Vermax following your lead. You crouched down in front of him slowly pulling your hand in front of him. Jace held his breath as Daemon narrowed his eyes at you. Vermax growls slightly before calming down, nudging his head against your hand.

‌Daemon was shocked when you turned to him and Jace. "He's angry, he's already kept inside here for too long. He said Jace is ignoring him for his studies and lessons."

‌Daemon softly laughs at you, "And how can we believe that, little one? Maybe you're just lying to us right now." You pouted before shaking your head. "My lord, you've noticed how restless Vermax has been in here. You've tried everything but he always lost his control, am I right? You thought he was hungry but he's not. And even though Jace always visits him here, he doesn't take him out for a ride."

‌Safe to say Daemon was impressed and interested in you after that. Jace would be shocked yet proud, telling his mother about how you proved Daemon wrong with your so called power. Rhaenyra would be furious at Daemon for letting you, a child, inside the Dragonpit just so he could see your power. But after some convincing from him, Rhaenyra would agree that you would be an asset to her family.

‌Soon you would spend time with all of the family members. Although you did still stay with Dayana from time to time, most of the time you stayed with Rhaenyra in her chambers. Deep down she longs for a daughter, and maybe luck did gave her a blessing in the form of you. You would always accompany her, asking questions about certain topics; and in return she'll see how you communicate with animals.

‌Rhaenyra would definitely tell you to her father, Viserys. And although he's bedridden in his room, he'll be interested. Wanting to meet you as Rhaenyra soon grew closer to you. In the end, you did met the king, Viserys now understanding why Rhaenyra and the rest of her family took a liking to you. Although Rhaenyra is happy that you met her father, she's hesitant on bringing you back again if Alicent is there. She didn't want you to be noticed by Alicent, so she decided to only bring you to Viserys a few times when Alicent was not around.

‌As years go by, you grew closer to all of them. Jace would still take his time off lessons and training to be with you. You became a sister figure for Luke and Joffrey, playing with them when they want to. Even Daemon would grew closer to you, although he'll act nonchalantly and not as frontal as the rest of the family. They will try to protect and shield you away from the Greens, claiming to never trust them ever.

‌Daemon will insist on having you bond with the dragons if it meant you could help them at any time (maybe even spending some alone time to bond together, only between the two of you). You helped the dragon keepers if certain dragons are acting up, calmly explaining to them what the dragons need. You always help all of the dragons, but Vermax still holds a special place in your heart; being the first dragon you've ever met.

‌One day, you claim to be a little sad after one of your bird friends told you about how the servants and guards talked bad about you, claiming that you bewitched the royal family into treating you like their own. Rhaenyra and Daemon would be furious yet stayed calm so they could catch whoever made the rumours up. Jace would be too, but he chose to stay with you; comforting you with kind words as he held you close to him. Luke and Joffrey would try to ease your sadness away, bickering and joking around to make you forget about it. You don't comment on how the mean servants and guards are slowly disappearing and replaced by new ones. Dayana reassures you that everything is normal.

‌On the other hand, your step-mother grew restless and angry when she heard about you in Kings Landing, with the royal family nonetheless. She was already happy with the thought of you gone, reinstating her as the most powerful person in the house after your father died. She already has a son, she didn't want you to come back and accuse her of mistreating you badly in the past. She already got rid of the pesky servants that liked you, she didn't want to have more problems.

‌So she made plans for you to be gone. It took a few years, wanting everything to be perfect. At first she wanted to hire an assassin to kill you but she threw that idea away when her spy in Kings Landing told her about how you always spent time with the family. Your step-mother was annoyed at how none of the plans seemed to be working. But in the end she found one plan that seemed to be perfect. It could kill you instantly and quietly, plus there's no way people will suspect her for the act. With the help of a witch, your step-mother consulted her with her plans.

‌As for you, you're not just a child anymore. You became well known for your beauty and kindness. Although your work in the castle has been nonexistent ever since you grew closer to Rhaenyra's family; you sometimes still met up with Dayana to spend time together.

‌Other than Rhaenyra's family, you only grew closer to Halaena. You bond with her because of the love the both of you had with animals. But her family and Rhaenyra's family have grew distant after what happened with Aemond. Thus you only met her only for a few times before spending the rest of your time with the Blacks.

‌Over the years the family grew more possessive towards you. You're basically adopted by them. Spending time with the family basically means you could get hurt, so Rhaenyra will always keep guards with you at all times. Daemon wanted to train you just so you could at least have a basic knowledge on self defense, but Jace claims that it will never happen. You don't need self defense because you're already safe with the family, the dragons are already protective towards you, plus people speak highly of your kindness. There is no one who will harm you.

‌Unknown to the family, your step-mother has finalized her plans for you. With the help of the witch, they created a poisonous apple, able to blend in with the other fruits inside the castle. Your step-mother whoever is still confused as to how the apple would only be eaten by you, but her worries are vanished when the witch decided that she herself could bring the apple to you. Your step-mother didn't care about how much she had to increase the pay, as long as you're gone forever then she'll be happy.

‌Soon the witch arrived in Kings Landing, disguising as a new servant as she works around; spying on you. She noticed how you're not always alone, people will accompany you everywhere you go. More so the prince, who always clings to your side whenever he got the chance. But the witch noticed how at night you'll always slip away from your chamber, going to the kitchen to grab a small snack. It'll be the perfect plan for her.

‌As Jace walks you to your room, he couldn't help but feel...off about today. Something about being watched by someone yet he couldn't find anyone. You asked Jace what's wrong, noting how he's always frowning as if deep in thought. "It's nothing, my love. Just felt it's wrong to leave you behind today. Something has been bothering me," Jace sighed.

‌"[Name]," Jace called you softly as he grabs both of your hands in his. "Whatever you do, do not go outside tonight. I've had the feeling that we're being watched but I'm hesitant if it's only my paranoia. But I'll talk to my mother, see if she also noticed something strange."

‌You nodded and agreed, ignoring the heat rising on your ears as Jace kissed your forehead before hugging you. You slipped inside as Jace walks away, sighing deeply before apologizing inside your heart to Jace. You waited for a while before slipping away to the kitchen, deciding to only grab a few snacks before coming back.

‌You thought you'll be alone, but you noticed a servant peeling some apples. Maybe for tomorrow? You've never seen a servant working this late but you decided to ignore it and instead searched for food.

‌"I'm sorry, my lady. But we've run out of our food," The servant answered when you asked her. You pouted, stomach grumbling loudly as you excused yourself from the kitchen. "Wait, my lady! If you want, you could have this apples. It might not full you, but at least you'll have something in your stomach," The servant smiled as she grabbed an apple from the rest. "Here, try it. It's very delicious."

‌You thought you heard her voice changed but ignored it when the apple was shoved in your hands. It did look delicious and you're hungry, so you took a bite. You hummed at the taste, wanting to take another bite. But your head grew dizzy, your vision getting blurry. You tried to grab onto the servant but it's as if she disappeared from the kitchen. You couldn't stay awake, falling to the ground as the apple rolled away. The witch smiled as her planned work, disappearing to the dark; leaving only you in the kitchen.

‌When a servant girl found you lying on the ground, she panicked and called the guards to alert the family. Daemon would be the first one to arrive, heart clenching at the sight of you lying there lifeless. He ordered the guards to bring you into your room as he noticed the rest of the family arriving. Rhaenyra would cry at the sight of you, following you as she holds your hand in hers. Daemon would hold Jace back, knowing how angry and confused the boy is at the gruesome sight. Luke will cry but helps Daemon at calming Jace down before he goes to see you, not wanting his brother losing his temper once again.

‌The maesters did everything they could do, but nothing worked. They told the family that you didn't die. You're still living yet unresponsive. Daemon would yell at them for not trying their best, Rhaenyra would shakily asked if there's any cure for you.

‌But after a few days, it seems the maesters have given up, telling the family that they don't have a clue what's going on. Jace would be livid, already staying by your side since you collapsed. He yelled at them for their incompetence, threatening that he'll kill them. Daemon would try to calm him down, Rhaenyra dismissing the maesters as to not cause more casualties.

‌The family would be devastated. Rhaenyra would visit you with Joffrey, talking to you about her day. Luke will sometimes join her but he couldn't stay too long. He couldn't stand seeing you in this state, wanting you awake again to play and joke around with him. Daemon would be too busy finding the culprit, interrogating people before killing them if they're no use to him. No use to you.

‌Jace would look calm on the outside, but on the inside he'll be devastated. Like Rhaenyra he will stay besides you for long periods of time. Brushing your hair as he talks about his day, talking about how Vermax missed your daily visits. If it's too much, he'll cry softly besides you; begging for you to come back to him. He regrets not telling you how he truly feels, regret building inside his heart as he holds your hand tightly.

It didn't help how Vermax would act more restless without you. Jace would have a hard time calming him down, Vermax could probably feel from the bond how his rider was also feeling restless and hopeless. Jace would also be haunted by your animal friends visiting your room when he's with you, shooing birds away when he noticed how they'll stay there.

‌One day, Jace feels so defeated as he saw you still lying lifeless on the bed. He would sit by your side, brushing your hair as tears fall through his eyes. "[Name], my love. I'm sorry for not helping you that night. I feel...so defeated. I can't—I can't look at you anymore in this state. It's torturing me inside to just be here and not be able to help you. I'm sorry, my love. I truly am."

‌Jace would feel terrible as he holds your hand. He'll reach up and brush your hair behind your ear as he kissed you softly on the lips. As he pulled away, he brushed his tears away, not noticing how your eyes fluttered. He'll sigh as he hold his head in his hands but his heart will stop when he heard the bed rustling. Jace will think he's gone crazy, but his holds his breath as he heard a soft voice. "Jace? Is that you?"

‌Jace would not believe it at first, but when he looked up, he saw you blinking your eyes. He would laugh incredulously, grabbing your face in his hands as he asked, "[Name], my love. Can you hear me?"

You would nod, making his smile even more wider as he hugs you tightly. He'll scream for the guards to notify his family, kissing your face softly as he repeats the words 'I love you' over and over again. You would be confused yet somewhat happy. You don't remember what happened after collapsing, so it must've been a big thing if Jace is acting like this.

‌Rhaenyra and Luke will be happy. Hugging you tightly before asking if you were okay, which you are. You're just confused when Jace told you you've been unconscious for the past few weeks.

‌Daemon would arrive late as he finally found the culprit, but he'll deal with it later when he noticed you're finally awake and healthy. He'll hug you before making sure you're alright and well.

‌The family would be more possessive and protective towards you after the incident, making sure you're comfortable and happy. Jace would be stuck to your side, now brave enough to tell you about his feelings as he wanted to marry you in the future. Rhaenyra would support it fully, happy that you'll officially be apart of her family. Dayana would be in tears, stressed out after not being able to meet you as you're unconscious.

‌Daemon will eventually ask you about you're background, wanting you to be fully honest if you want him to catch the culprit. The family would be by your side as you told them about your past. They'll be livid and angry at your step-mother. Daemon finally convinced that it was actually her doing all this time.

‌Days will past, you and Jace grew even more closer and told people about how you're lovers. He'll always be by your side, hand placed on your back as he softly whispered about how much he loves you; making you giggle and slap his arm when he whispers about something more dirty.

‌You ignored it when Daemon is back from his 'journey', bringing back a child resembling your step-mother. You ignored Daemon's bloody clothes as he talked to Rhaenyra about something. You ignored a bloody cloth with something bloody inside, almost shaped like a head. You don't want to worry about that.

‌Yet you worry about the child. So from then on, you treated the boy as if he's your sibling. Not wanting the weight of his mother's wrongdoing being put onto him. You're happy with your life now, you just hope in the future you'll be happier building your own little family with Jace.

#hotd #house of the dragon #yandere #yandere hotd #yandere house of the dragon #series #princess!reader #jacaerys valaryon x reader #hotd jacaerys #jacaerys x you #jacaerys x reader

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beary-rambles · 1 year

Text

Flowers

Summary | In a world where the dragons do not dance it's time for Jacaerys Velaryon to choose a wife as the heir to the iron throne. When House Targaryen invites all the eligible ladies in the seven kingdoms to meet the prince, chaos follows. In comes you, a lady from a minor house who makes an impression on a certain prince.

Pairing | Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem!Reader

Taglist (Open)

schedule

Chapter One: Introductions

Summary: As a lady from a very minor house you are very displeased to be journeying so far away from home for a boring trip. but your first morning tells you this trip is going to much more interesting than you thought.

Chapter Two: Aftermath

Summary: After the first morning of the event emotions run high for both parties. A calm before the storm of sorts occurs.

Chapter Three: The Garden

Summary: You come to find it's hard to avoid someone when the one person they want to talk to just so happens to be you. especially when that someone just so happens to be the prince this whole event is for.

Chapter Four: Worries, Worries and Worries

Summary :After a brief yet meaningful conversation with daemon, jacaerys has only one goal in mind. You.

Chapter Five: The Opening Feast

Summary: The opening feast is a wonderful event, though you are feeling a little miserable, a certain person helps make the event a little more bearable. Though it is not who you thought it would be.

Chapter Six: Odd....

Summary: You have a very... Odd? Second morning. You didnt think it was possible to get anymore unbelievable than yesterday. But it had.

Chapter Seven: Oh.

Summary: Jacaerys reflects, is annoyed by his family and learns some troubling news.

Chapter Eight: Fight it out.

Summary: Many things happen at the training grounds, many unexpected things.

Chapter Nine: Truce? Truce.

Summary: what could joffery possibly mean by a truce ? and what does rhaenrya targaryen, the queen, want with you ?

Chapter ten: Afternoon tea

Summary: Queen Rhaenrya invites you to have tea with her but your mind is still running wild. Your conversation ends up being more important to you than you thought.

Chapter Eleven: A challenge

Summary: prince jacaerys has a very terrible day and makes some rushed and quiet frankly stupid decisions.

Chapter Twelve: The question.

Summary: The prince has shown up at your doorstep! what could he possibly want?

Chapter Thirteen: The Grand tourney!

Summary: its finally time for the grand tourney! but you happen to be stuck in your head

Chapter Fourteen: Calm before the storm

Summary: it is the aftermath of the tourney and the surprises that come with it

Chapter Fifteen: The final dance

Summary: there is a week grace period between the final big ball and the tourney were you and jacaerys begin to spend a lot more time together. all seems to be going well, a little too well, maybe there is something bad coming on the horizon

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fairysluna · 1 year

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tw - smut (oral f!receiving, an*l sex), targcest.

Your mouth was hanging open as your eyes were clenching shut. Your nails gripping at the carved table in front of you as multiple gasps and whines escaped your swollen lips. The pair of hands of your twin brother were spreading your arse cheeks as his tongue wandered around your soaked folds making your legs tremble and your hips twitch.

Two of his fingers were buried in your puckered hole, stretching you open to receive him once again. His fat tongue sucking and licking on your swollen clit while you couldn't stop pressing yourself against his face; his mouth would make the most obscene sounds as it collected your juices, slurping and drinking from your arousal until your eyes would roll to the back of your head. You were able to hear him whimper; tasting you was enough to make him impossibly needy and hard, he would simply lose his mind whenever his tongue lapped over your sweet cunt. His cock was already pressing against his pants, causing a slight pain on him that, for some reason, would only increase the arousal on him.

You came undone on his tongue, moaning his name in such an erotic way that he felt his cock twitch with excitement because he knew what was next to come. He stood up, standing behind you and he was quick to remove his fingers from your tight hole and take them to his pants, quickly and impatiently unbuckling them to free his pulsing erection, desperate to fill you. He grabbed your hips with a soft touch that, somehow, managed to feel rough at the same time; you whimpered once you felt his fat head teasing your folds, pressing against your swollen clit which was still throbbing for the previous orgasm. You heard him spit, and then you felt how it fell right on top of your arse. His long fingers managed to spread it around your hole.

It took him a few seconds to replace his digits with the tip of his aching cock, pushing inside you slowly, trying not to hurt you. Your eyes widened and your legs shook, his thickness stretching you open in a delicious but painful way that made you cry and moan at the same time. His lips let a low groan escape, reaching your ears and making you squeeze around him. With one push you felt his sack against your skin, you were completely full of him, your cunt drenching and your skin gleaming with a coat of sweat; proof of the burning desire that grew within those four walls. He moved, and you almost screamed, overwhelmed by the pleasure.

His hand covered your mouth. "Sh…" he whispered against your ear, his voice and breathing shaky and unsteady, "be quiet for me, angel, you don't want them to find us here, do you?" You could only shake your head, tears filled with lust already soaking your flushed cheeks.

"N-no, Jace…" You mumbled under his hand, barely able to form coherent words as he resumed his movements, going slowly but slightly harder. You were receiving him so well, taking him and making him feel so good that he soon had to bite his lip to silence his lustful sounds. His free hand soon reached for your clit at the same time he sped up his thrusts, pounding against you with a new strength that almost made you faint. The stimulation was too much, your poor pearl being abused by his fingers as he became harsher with each movement, with each sound you would make. He soon lost his self control, and let the dragon come out.

You let him use you, you let him take whatever he wanted from you, because in a few more weeks you both will be married, and because it wasn't a sin as long as he didn't take your maidenhead.

At least that is what he told you.

BOLD MEANS I COULDN’T TAG YOU

GENERAL TAG LIST - @borikenlove @aemondsversion @jvpit3rs @watercolorskyy @kravitzwhore @valeskafics @clairacassidy @aemondx @randomdragonfires @theminesofmoria @gothtargaryen @melsunshine

JACE TAG LIST - @ganymede-princess

#drabbles #dark!jacaerys #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys fic #jacaerys x you #jacaerys x twin!reader #targcest #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys valaryon x reader #jacaerys smut #jace velaryon #jacaerys targaryen #jacaerys strong #hotd smut #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd x y/n #hotd x you #hotd x reader

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blakeswritingimagines · 7 months

Text

Please, my king (Kinktober Day 4)

Warnings: Blowjob in a public area, Roughness, Hair pulling, Facefucking. Degradation,

Word count: 1k

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

You bit down on your lower lip as if you couldn't believe you both were actually going through with this idea, having been talking and teasing the idea of an intimate time in the throne room while Jacaerys sat on the iron throne letting his fantasy become real of being a ruler even if for a moment with you. Before it actually came true one night you kneeled before him as your heart pounded in your chest and he sat on the iron throne looking down at you even as neither of you were king or queen at least not yet. You placed your hands on his bare thighs looking up at him as you leaned closer kissing his tanned thighs and letting your warm breath hit his excited cock "What is it my king wants?". He stared down at you as you kneeled before him, smiling slightly with a nod of his head. His eyes move up as you lean forward, taking a long breath as you do. He looked back down at you, leaning over and running his hand through your hair lightly before he started unbuckling his breeches, "I think you know....Now get to work."

You slightly leaned up as you lightly pressed your lips against his own and smiled as you whispered against his lips "I'll be gentle I promise my king" Smiling as you placed small kisses on his thighs before taking his cock down your throat and moaned at how heavy it felt on your tongue while your moaning vibrated around his length as you started bobbing your head up and down. The heat of your breath over his flesh makes him tremble slightly as you lean up, kissing him deeply, it makes him forget himself for a moment or two but he snaps back to reality quickly. Your hands resting on his thighs flex under your touch, tilting his head back as he lets out a low whine. His hand takes yours, holding it with love as you begin moving your mouth up and down. His face flushes slightly at your motions making him close his eyes and shiver.

You continued bobbing your hand up and down sucking more as you enjoyed yourself, while pleasing Jacaerys in such a way while he sat on the Iron throne of all places, gently massaging his thighs as you hallowed out your cheeks to make this good for him and something to remember whenever he is in this room. The soft moans are almost continuous as you continue with your motions. There is the tiniest of wobbles as one of his arms rests on the arms of the chair, letting you move and suck as you wanted. He looked down and caught your eyes meeting his briefly. He gave you a wink and a smile before he leaned his head back "That's it, you were made to be my little cockwarmer baby." His eyes closed as he relaxed back more with a groan. His breath was catching in his throat as he tried to take the sensations into himself and process them without letting them overwhelm him too quickly. Your hand is a warm reprieve against his leaking hard cock as your lips are a welcome embrace. His fingers grip your hair tightly and you hear the low growls from his throat as you move your lips along him. He looked down at you, watching your lips stretch around him as you moved, watching the motion of your lips. Watching makes it better somehow.

You listened to him closely and only pulled away as you looked up at him, wiping away the saliva keeping you both connected while your hand moved up and down around his cock as your spit and his precum made your hand glide. Leaning down as you licked at the tip taking in his salty taste before looking back up at him and shrugging playfully as your tone sounded sweet and innocent "You can move your hips if you like…or be as rough as you want." Leaning down as you took his dick back into your mouth starting to suck again only gagging when you took him further down your throat. He groaned quietly at your throat constricting around his cock, his fingers digging into your hair in both pleasure and delight. His hips do begin to move in rhythm to your head bobbing, his hips moving slowly but firmly as he held your head in place using you for his own pleasure, his other hand gently brushes your cheek before loosely placing it around your throat moaning again as he felt his own cock bludging your throat in such a way as you took him "Such a good little cockdrunk slut for me," knowing nothing would be better than him on of the bench of the throne. It felt so powerful to use you like this.

Moaning around his length again as he did, in fact, move his hips, which only caused his cock to go down deeper down your throat causing you to gag around him more until you took a few deep breathes through your nose, moving your head more as you looked up at him taking in the way he looked as he lost himself in the pleasure of his eyes shut tightly, his hair becoming sweaty and sticking to his forehead, his lower lip nearly bleeding due to him biting it so roughly while you continued as if it was nothing. Jacaerys felt his body react suddenly, shaking and shuddering with each touch, with each movement. His breaths turned deep and heavy, his heart raced faster, his own body reacting to the intensity of the moment "I'm gonna cum baby, take it all for me." He looked down at you with a pleased sigh before he chuckled "Be a good baby."

You moaned around his length again before pulling away when he came, looking up at him and sticking out your tongue showing all the pearlescent cum that came from him, closing your mouth and swallowing it all before sticking out your tongue again showing it all had gone down your throat before you started to fix up his pants like nothing had just happened. He panted as you pulled away and looked at you. His eyes are wide now, wide with the intensity of what just happened. "That was…" He tried to start to speak but couldn't even find the words, his voice breaking. His hand gently takes hold of your chin, raising your eyes to meet his. "You were wonderful."

#jacaerys x you #jacaerys velaryon x reader #hotd jacaerys #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys valaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon smut #house of the dragon #kinktober 2023 #kinktober

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valaenatargaryensdragon · 1 year

Note

jacaerys and his valyrian looking twin sister giving jaehaerys and alysanne reborn! they're betrothed early on by their mother and grandsire and can't get enough of one another. no war and they marry right when they're of age, and he totally has a breeding and lactation kink with her after so many kids, feeding from her breast to relax himself from his duties as heir and serving on their moms council as she's queen. to the point rhaenyra is so concerned that sets her aside like you're always with child is everything okay and she's like noo I want this.

A/N: I hope you like it! I feel like this would look better as multiple parts or? Cause this is supposed to be a duration of their life so I tried like doing a summery.

pairing: Fanon!Jacaerys Valeryon x twin!Reader

summary: jacaerys and his valyrian looking twin sister giving jaehaerys and alysanne reborn! they're betrothed early on by their mother and grandsire and can't get enough of one another. no war and they marry right when they're of age, and he totally has a breeding and lactation kink with her after so many kids, feeding from her breast to relax himself from his duties as heir and serving on their moms council as she's queen. to the point rhaenyra is so concerned that sets her aside like you're always with child is everything okay and she's like noo I want this.

Word count: 2,4K

Warnings: Fluff, incest, no war, smut, P in V, breeding kink, fingering, lactation kink, humping

Masterlist 1

Masterlist 2

"Jace" You moaned wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He hummed against the skin of your neck, placing soft kisses there, teasing you. He grinded his hard on against your exposed and wet cunt.

"Jace, please" You lifted your hips trying to get more friction. Jace chuckled against your throat and raised his head to look at you. A smile adorned his face. You looked back at your husband of almost fifteen years, you two were married on your six and ten namedays, the celebration became two or technically three.

The realm rejoiced and congratulated you two when the King himself ordered fourteen days of celebrations, seven in Jace's honour and seven for yours. There were feasts of all kinds for the nobles in the Red Keep and also there were tents that were put up in the streets for the smallfolk.

You and Jace were always meant to be together, you were born together after all. Jacaerys was born with his Strong brown hair and eyes but you had your mother's white-blonde hair and her lavender eyes. You and Jace shared a room ever since you were born and refused to leave one another. When you two became ten namedays old rumours floated around that your two began fondling each other, they were untrue of course but it caused a stir but still you two refused to be separated from each other.

Queen Alicent suggested betrothing you to her son Aegon and all hell broke loose, Jace threatened to steal you away if anyone tried taking you away from him. Your mother feared he would do like King Jaehaerys did with Queen Alysanne and refused the match. By the time you two were ten and three you finally were betrothed much to your joy.

Jace refused to leave your side and when he would train in the courtyard he demanded you come and watch him. Still your innocent nature won and you made friends with your uncles and aunt, especially with your aunt. You would read with her book about insects, she out of love for them but you out of curiosity. This released some of the tension between your brothers and uncles and they made some kind of truce.

When Aemond claimed a dragon you were the once to advice Jace against taking the knife with him sparing your uncle's eye from a horrible fate. Now Jace and Aemond sparred together with all their eyes intact. Luce was closer to Aemond however, both forming a friendship of sorts, well a friendship of sarcasm and friendly insults.

Aegon resumed his ways of drinking and whoring himself much to the dismay of everyone. When the time came your grandsire himself attended all the feasts of your wedding despite his reclining health. Jace refused the bedding ceremony even when you said you were alright with it. Ever since that night you two became obsessed with each other, fucking like rabbits, the location and time never mattered either.

"What is it, sweet wife?" Jace asked. One of his hands sneaked down between your bodies rubbing a comforting hand over your bump before resuming down to your cunt. You sighed in relief at the feeling of his fingers toying with you pearl.

"I need you, lēkia" Brother. You mewled. Jace leaned down claiming your lips with his swallowing your sounds of pleasure. He pushed a finger inside of your sopping hole. Your head fell back, eyes screwed shut. He dropped his head down to your breasts, so full and big from feeding all your children. His lips unconsciously opened and wrapped around your right nipple and he began suckling.

After your wedding in a couple of moons while you were pregnant with your eldest your grandsire passed in his sleep leaving the throne for your mother. You were devastated but you knew life went on. Your mother made Jace the heir and sent you both to Dragonstone as the rightful owners. Ever since you lived there along with your children.

First came your sweet Maerion (now four and ten), a boy with your hair and eyes but was the spitting image of his father. Eleven moons later he was followed by Valaenya (Now four and ten), a girl who looked and acted as her father. She usually asked why she was your only daughter with her father's hair, that you loved so much. A year lated you had Gaelora (Now three and ten) who had your hair and eyes as well, the troublemaker who gave her father a run for his money, she always followed Jace and Maerion around with her own wooden sword and demanded to train alongside them. Your fourth child was born quiet much to your horror and had to be supervised for a while before he was handed to you alive and healthy, Rhaegor (One and ten) a boy with fair hair but brown eyes. He was a quiet kid and some people believed him mute but he only spoke when he felt like it. Your fifth and sixth children came together like you and Jace, your twins Daenerys and Daemion (Now ten of age). Daemion had his father's hair and your eyes while Daenerys had your hair, like Maerion, Gaelora and Rhaegor but her father's eyes. Daemion enjoyed sword fighting like his older brother Maerion and older sister Gaelora. Daenerys however enjoyed embroidery along with Valaenya and they usually made insect shaped handkerchiefs for their aunt Helaena who would send them ones back with their favourite flowers. Your seventh child who was now seven namedays, your girl Visenys who had your fair hair but her eyes were a dark violet looking almost black, she was a dreamer like Helaena which made you uneasy because sometimes she would wake up from nightmares or simply seeing visions leaving her shaken. You had ordered for her to always have a bottle of nightshade in her chambers for whenever she could no longer bare the dreams. She was fair haired but with her father's eyes and his height. Then came Saenya , she had your hair and eye colour, a girl of now five namedays, she was quiet and collected, barely cried even as a babe. She learned High Valyrian faster than the common tongue. She enjoyed playing with animals and already had two kittens she found in the gardens of the Keep. Your ninth child was a boy named Laenor in honours of your father, or the one in the public's eyes at least. He was brown haired but with lavender eyes. Your tenth child and last with surprisingly a gap of two years between him and his older brother, a boy with brown hair and eyes named Jaeron and he was one name day old.

"Shh sweet sister, your husband will care for you" Jace promised. He pushed himself down until he was face to face with your stomach, swollen with your eleventh child or maybe more from the size of it. He placed a kiss on a small bruise there from a kick earlier. He resumed down to your cunt, dripping with need.

he pushed three fingers inside of you, knowing you can take it. You moaned loudly running a hand down to touch your own clit. Jace let you knowing you got off to pleasuring yourself to the thought of him of course.

"Is this good, sweet wife?" Jace asked curling his fingers upwards. You arched your back off the bed, rolling your hips to take his fingers deeper.

"So good" You answered. He smirked leaned down to place a kiss on you clit as he pushed your hand away. His tongue took the job of abusing the button to your nerves and suckled.

"Yes!" You cried rolling your hips down onto his face. Jace slurped moving down to tease your opening with his tongue while his fingers pumped in and out of you. He shook his head from side to side rubbing the tip of his nose to your pearl.

"Cumming" You warned, you always came fast when pregnant. Something about him still desiring you while pregnant did it for you. Jace hummed against your private parts granting you release. You clenched your thighs around his head, probably strong enough to crush his skull, but he was a dragon and nothing hurt him. He loved suffocating against your pussy and if he were to die like this he would be happy. Your legs shook with each wave of pleasure before falling on the mattress again. Jacaerys lapped at your release not wanting to waste a single drop. You shivered overwhelmed with pleasure but did not complain.

"Did so well for me, sweet wife" Jace rose up to lay beside you. He helped you roll to your side. Your shuddered feeling him rub his cock against your entrance. You pushed your hips back needy.

"Fuck me, brother, please" You begged. Jace pushed his cock inside of you slowly to not hurt you. He pushed himself up so he could take your nipple on his mouth. His other hand moved to grope at the flesh of your behind bouncing with each snap of his hips. You cried curling your hands around the sheets. Jace moaned against your nipple as warm milk filled his mouth.

You were due any day now which is why you were in the keep, you always insisted on giving birth in the keep to be close to your mother who was too busy to travel to Dragonstone and back all the time. With the amount of children that you had she would have to move there instead of living in the Keep.

"Fuck, yes" You whined head rolling back. Jace quickened his pace feeling his balls are about to explode for you, for your cunt. His hand kneading your behind moved to your belly feeling your child move inside annoyed by the movement of your hips. He or she were probably dizzy from the movement.

"Harder, Jace, fuck me harder" You begged sobbing from the the pleasure. Your hand moved to tweak your other breast letting the milk roll down your fingers and soak the sheets. Your other hand moved down to play with your clit.

"Fuck darling" Jace growled, holding on to your hips, jackhammering inside of your hole. Your clenched around him, with the movement of his cock inside of you and your fingers teasing yourself you came with a loud cry that was probably heard by the entire Keep, you have heard people talk about you before about having heard you and Jace coupling. You smirked proudly back then knowing the women were jealous that your brother-husband was able to make you cum unlike their husbands.

"Good girl" Jace growled spilling his seed inside of you. You relaxed feeling exhausted from the act and being pregnant at the same time. You turned to look at Jace over your shoulder whining as he pulled out. He leaned over to kiss your lips sweetly.

"Let us bathe, mother is expecting us for supper" Jace reminded. You groaned annoyed allowing him to help you off the bed and over to the bathtub. The maids had gotten you water earlier to bath which was now cold but you did not care right now, it helped push down the temperature of your body from your coupling earlier.

After bathing you put on a simple gown, you had more pregnancy gowns than normal gowns at this point. You and Jace walked side by side to the great hall where the supper was to take place. Your children had their own table along with Luce's and Rhaena own three daughters, Aegon and Helaena's three children and your youngest brothers.

"Oh dear, come sit down" You mother moved to your other side to help you walk over to your seat. You sighed in relief once you no longer had to hold up your own weight.

"Thank you mother" You smiled brightly at her. Jace kissed your forehead before moving over to Luce so they could speak to one another.

"Are you alright, darling?" Your mother earned your attention again. You quirked up an eyebrow in confusion at her question.

"I- yes, why mother?" You tilted your head to the side. The sound of children's laughter sounded like music to your ears, it was like the balm to all your wounds and worth every second of pain you endured.

"I mean this is your eleventh child, are you not tired?" She asked. She placed a hand on your cheek as if you were a small child all over again.

"I am not, I enjoy it" You shrugged. Her eyes held a weirdness to them, she could not believe that someone enjoyed pregnancy, something so painful and exhausting.

"Are you sure? Is Jace forcing you? believe me I will punish-" You placed a finger to her lips making her stop talking. You giggled shaking your head from side to side. You turned to look at Jace laughing with Luce and Aemond about whatever men found fun. You could feel yourself growing wet again, he had grown to be the tallest one of them three and he had muscles that you heard rivalled those of Harwin Strong, your rumoured father.

"He is not forcing me, I want this" You could not even move your gaze away. Watching how his muscles flexed when he moved to pat Luce's shoulder. How his back tensed when Aegon joined before relaxing again seeing as Aegon was not drunk as usual.

"I see" You snapped back to reality and looked at your mother who was smirking at you. Your fave felt like it was on fire and you turned to look down on your belly, that covered your lap. Your hands ran over the smooth silk that covered your skin feeling butterflies in your stomach, or maybe your child or children were moving around.

"I am glad you are happy, dear" She patted your hand. You smiled at her nodding before it was wiped off quickly. You grabbed her hand forcefully making her pause shocked.

"My labours, mother" You explained. Her smile dropped and she immediately helped you back up calling Jace over to help you back to your rooms.

That night you had your eleventh child, a girl with white-blonde hair but some brown streaks popped through the tufts of hair and when she opened her eyes they were of different shaded, her right one was lavender and her left was dark brown so you named her Alyssa like your great-grandmother who had the same mismatching eyes just with different colours.

#jacaerys imagine #jacaerys fic #hotd jacaerys #jacaerys valaryon x reader #jacaerys fluff #jacaerys smut #jacaerys x oc #jacaerys targaryen #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys x you #house of the dragon imagine #house targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd imagine #hotd smut #requests #request

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its-actually-minicika · 1 year

Text

The Harshest Winters (18+!)

Part 4;;

Pairing(s): Jacaerys x Reader x bookcanon Aemond;

Warnings: all of them lmao - dubious consent, canon typical violence, lack of Jacaerys, death, blood and gore, Aemond - who forces the reader into holy matrimony in this one (oh yes it's happening), and of course engages in petty masturbation (it's not THW without him going ham on his own hand ♡)

Word Count: 15k+ (wowza i know)

Author's Note: Low and behold, part 4 is here!! Originally, this was supposed to be a 4 parts series, but that obviously isn't the case anymore. THIS TOOK SO LONG AND I'M SO SORRY - I had major issues with the tag list, and at some point, tumblr wouldn’t let me post this; I unfortunately couldn't solve those problems, no matter how hard I tried, so most of you haven't been properly tagged :") This update is a hot mess, and I haven't actually had the time to read through all the paragraphs that I wrote. I SHALL BE BACK TO EDIT

A huge thank you to everyone who's still following the story, though, and I hope you enjoy!

A war is in its midst.

When everyone else is readying themselves for the following decisive battles, you and Aemond are busy playing house.

Things get heated in Harrenhal, and one must decide when and where to pick their side.

The contact of the hot water upon Aemond’s ivory skin made the man shudder in naught but blinding pain. Achingly slow movements, followed by slow grunts echoed throughout the room – and Lady Tully stilled upon the silken sheets, moving her eyes over the book’s page for the thousandth time since he returned; thus driving all her peace away.

The baths Aemond determinedly took in the raptures of the late-night hours never failed to make her uncomfortable, and keep her on edge. Even so, being forced to hear the pained man move with such little stability and lack of confidence almost teetered the girl to the brink of madness.

Harrenhal had been in shambles since its proud conqueror beckoned his return on dragon back that very eve. Two young maids shouted for maesters, and Alys Rivers nearly caused a scene. As he got off his leather saddle, the Prince all but collapsed from tiredness and blood loss.

'He commanded his features to turn brave and taciturn,' his paramour had told her, 'as to not let a single hint of his condition spread throughout the Keep. My poor Aemond.'

The fool had been reached by an arrow.

An impressive feat, one had to agree – and wonder further on the identity of the courageous shot.

‘Struck right between his shoulder blade and chest,’ she had heard some lost girl utter, ‘It is a miracle he’s still alive.’

… Or the Gods’ cruelest punishment, the Lady compelled within her thoughts.

“Mmhh…” Aemond’s rugged breath deterred the girl to raise her glassy orbs from the confinement of the wilting pages. She schooled her eyes to stay above any level of indiscretion, and gingerly followed the trail of blood mixed with dirt, that seeped into and dirtied the once clear water.

Now that her curiosity was quenched, she could freely look away again.

Half a heartbeat later, she relented and surrendered in the face of his quarrelsome state. The Prince bit the inside of his cheek again, and raised his hand up to allow droplets of liquid to trail past his wounded shoulder… but to no avail.

“You could call in a maid, you know.” Her raspy voice descended upon his struggling body. Sooner than she may have liked, the Bliss of Riverrun closed her eyes, and concentrated on the languid noises that the Prince was making.

Seconds felt like pending minutes, until Aemond One-Eye graced her with a reply.

“I don’t need a maid to help me.”

Then that was that, the young woman soon concluded, returning her attention to the opened book.

'The Philosophies of the Riverlands', however, provided little to no aid to the situation at hand – and her overall station.

For she knew, perhaps far too well, that she had to play a different game than the one they'd engaged in, months prior to her imprisonment in that cursed place.

Insufferable man… she vexed him cruelly inside her head, I hoped by now you would be dead.

She raised one leg from the mattress that embedded her, and shifted it, so as to allow her limbs to hang lowly by the edge of the bed. Her thoughts formed and went as they pleased, but the girl settled on one final reach.

He hadn't even allowed Alys to help him undress. Suggesting her now was a deliberate waste of her time.

Not only that, but she still had to win his trust. Somehow, she promised herself, no matter what it takes, she'd do it.

Forcibly she rose from the bed, and made her way slowly towards his wide basin, fixating her eyes on the stone floor ahead. Her throat closed in on itself, and the girl pursed her lips into a tight line, whilst exhaling through her nose. It took a while for her to calm herself.

"... What about me?" She asked in a leveled tone.

Her gaze met his piercing orb, and the Lady nearly took a small step back. His face long washed the wave of shock from his sharp, Targaryen features – Aemond awaited her next words with a quirked up brow and a slight bite o'r his inner cheek. He seemed more than interested in her meek suggestion.

His wordless approval had left her speechless and, for a while, only her heartbeat emerged in her ears.

The Prince Regent trailed his eye hungrily over her extended arm. He took in a sharp breath as she grasped the rough sponge from his hand, and drained it of the putrid smell. She confidently brought it up to him – and teasingly trailed it over his hard chest, down to his lower abdomen, up again to his slouching shoulder.

"This… will hurt you a little bit." She whispered to him, skillfully averting her face from the man in question.

He gritted his teeth harshly, and almost let out a groan from his parted lips – with his dexterous and long fingers, he gripped the edge of the wooden basin, but dared not to look away from the kneeling Lady – choosing, instead, to focus on singling out her every soft and hard feature.

On her end, (Y/N) dabbed the piece of cloth over his wound gently, chanting inside her head to remain small and taciturn.

He shan't get more of a reaction from me, she promised herself through the span of an agonized huff, as she focused in on the task at hand.

Aemond's white skin revealed itself from the washed patches of dirt, and the Prince sighed a deep breath of contentment, as he felt his body be unintentionally caressed by her. His eye fluttered close, and a slight furrow of his tantalizing brow indicated the uncommon pleasure he took from their sporadic intimacy.

The two remain in awkward silence - the only noise that reached the girl's ears being the rattle of water and the occasional hiss from Aemond.

"... I'm sorry." She strained herself to whisper, whilst her hair fell seemingly out of place. "This looks as if it's painful."

The Prince Protector mirrored her stance, and glanced at her through the thick curtain of long, silver hair – the lilac in his eye complimenting the heatwaves of fire that danced across his marred skin.

"It's not painful." His gruff voice echoed in reply.

"... You –" The Lady began, but stopped on her tracks to level her voice again, by the aid of coughing in the back of her hand.

"You don't have to pretend in my company, you know."

She graced him with a forced smile, one she hoped seemed light enough to fool him. "Even if I wanted to, I couldn't make fun of you."

Her eyes trailed over to the harsh stone floor, wrinkling at their sharpened ends – "When I was three and ten," she began, "My youngest brother betted against one of the stable boys: that he could ride faster than anyone on his horse, Middle." Her eyes spasmed close at the memory, and the girl wistfully smiled to herself, "The fool scraped his knees in that dreadful race. Middle threw him right out of his expensive saddle."

As she spoke, she brought the rough cloth over Aemond's shoulder blade, right above his wound, and began scrubbing the dirt that adorned over his skin.

"He didn’t want anyone to know what had happened, so he made me clean it, in the stead of a maester." The Lady let out an airy laugh, as her nose scrunched up with a pang of fondness. "I have never seen a boy get so worked up over a simple scratch before."

Aemond hummed in admission – half relieved by the distraction she was offering, and half worried by the impending pain he would soon feel. He shifted from inside the basin, as if to reach for the sponge in her hand himself, but the girl simply laid her hand away.

Her musings came to an abrupt end. She retreated on her steps lightly, and offered the Crown Prince a quirked-up brow.

"You need to stay put, Prince Aemond. Otherwise, I risk causing you more harm than good." She swallowed thickly, and only shook her head, "Your wound needs thorough cleaning, Your Grace. And it is too far in the back for you to clean it by yourself."

She glanced at his face anew, and let out a tumbling sigh as he nodded his head again, trying his hardest to relax into her touch once more.

Part of him remained put up – the bulk of his chest and shoulders still gloriously hunched over, ready to bolt up at any given moment.

"... I hate to admit it. I thought he was exaggerating then – with the discomfort which he feigned was feeling."

Her lips pursed into a tight line, as she glanced quickly at the laying man, "But how can one make fun of another's state of pain?"

A sympathetic look was shared between them.

Her eyes softened in admission to his furrowed brows and descended features. In that exact light, she couldn’t help but notice how much he resembled her Jace.

"Pain makes us human. And it's a reminder for us: to really cherish our times of incandescent joy."

The break of a cold sweat kissed over Aemond's forehead; droplets of which gathered at the base of his left eye, where his leather eyepatch stayed secured.

The girl pushed down a disdainful puff, as her eyes trailed him over, from the rosy blotch of skin, back to his hawk-like eye.

"Leather retains heat." She murmured before she could catch herself.

The Targaryen Prince expelled a deep breath, and, as her hand came to rest over the buckle that secured his patch into place, he primed his lips into a downturned arch.

"It can't be good for you to always keep it on."

"The sight of it frightens others. I don't want it to frighten you."

"I've seen you without your eyepatch before."

"That was different. This time… is different."

The latter of his words sent a shiver down her bent spine. Nothing is different, she was aching to say. Her lips pressed anxiously together, and the girl offered Aemond a curt nod. Just as she was about to pull her hand away from the nape of his neck, the Prince's wet palm came up to stop her.

His fingers shakily entwined with hers. The deep callouses of his hand scratched the softness of her open palm.

For a while, Time herself froze before them.

(Y/N) came to avert her gaze, but Aemond's eye feverishly searched for the relieving clash of hers. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and the Lady of Riverrun nearly choked onto the clogged-up air.

His silver locks curled slightly at their ends – the dampness of the room striking its claim over his perfectly straight strands of hair. In his own right, Aemond could be called beautiful. His striking Targaryen features might have ensured the favor of many young maidens, were it not for his rash and impetuous attitude, the bite that rested in his character – which no doubt spread like a disease over his life at Court.

"Look at me." Against his better judgment, and his innermost turmoil, Aemond allowed her small fingers to trail over the buckle of his blinder again. He drew out a comforting sigh, and, with her hand still in his, gently slid the leather off.

He sucked in a quiet breath, as the coldness of the air enveloped his throbbing eyelids.

The poise in his composure was cracking at the seams, with the passing of each second, during which she settled to remain silent.

Eventually, her hand came to rest over his face again. Her dexterous fingers began to leisurely wipe the sweat from his brow, his eye, by submerging them into the lukewarm water, and bringing them over and over to his clenched face.

"I'm sorry." She settled on to say instead, once the breaching of kind words failed to meet her. "No one deserves to be left without an eye. No one deserves such appalling cruelty."

"You appear to be sorry an awful lot this evening, My Lady." Aemond choked under his breath, taken aback by her gentle movements and sainty utter.

"I spend the better part of my days in the company of my own thoughts." She huskily reminded him, "... It's been increasingly easier for me to reflect on my past mistakes."

Wordless from her hoax admission, and desperate to feel her hands explore him further, the Targaryen Prince rose heavily from the dirtied water – his chest coming directly to her field of vision.

The girl let out a cutting gasp, as she turned swiftly on her heel, refusing to glance at his modesty, not any longer than she'd already had.

Her eyelids fluttered close, and she shifted from one foot to the other, but to no avail. For in spite of her desire to run away, the Lady found herself hammered in place.

The proximity between them laid out to be a problem – Aemond let out a frustrated sigh, and turned her head around with the clasping of his untouched arm. Two of his fingers came to rest at the base of her cheek and chin; the Prince let out a satisfied hum, as her body trembled in slight shock at their change of position.

"Gevie…" He muttered to no one but himself.

His cock stood proudly at attention, kissing over his prominent abdomen, trailing long past his belly button. Every now and then, white pearls pooled to the base of his length, weeping from his angry tip, trailing past his stones in the reach of the water below him.

"Look at me." He breathed again, and his sweet Lady obeyed.

She threw him a dejected look: half harsh and cold, half hardened and scorned. The tips of her ears matched the redness of her pale cheeks. Her eyes cast their curious glow throughout every corner of the room, yet stayed away from the scorn of indiscretion that called out to her, only centimeters below her swollen lips.

Aemond's thumb flicked once over her crimson labium, but the man sighed, seemingly discouraged, and settled upon gripping her dainty wrist instead.

"Gaomagon daor sagon zūgagon, issa dōna jorrāelagon. Nyke kivio ao naejot sagon gīda."

The gentleness that oozed from his voice could have had anyone fooled. But not her. The translations of the words he muttered against the skin of her wrist were lost on her, but the Lady of Riverrun still singled out a most protruding word.

He had never failed to call her 'his tormenting love'.

The girl's breath rose and fell with each agonizing word that befell over her face.

"Mēre tubis ao jāhor jaelagon issa." Aemond sighed against her wrist.

'I would sooner die than spread my legs for the Usurper's kin. I would sooner die than spread my legs for the Usurper's kin. I would sooner die than spread my legs for the Usurper's kin.'

Her words rang harsh and true inside her head – and, much like it was back then, her heart harbored no honorable intent towards the Trident's Terror.

He burnt your entire homeland, she chastised herself harshly, He killed thousands. Every day, even more find their end by the breath of his dragon. By the way of his wrath.

The ache in her heartbeat rang loudly inside her ears – her every pore aligned with her wish to run away, and her mind was screaming at her to retreat to a corner.

Comparing him to Jacaerys was a laughable feat.

"Let's… just finish getting you cleaned up, Your Grace" She struggled to finally suggest out loud, through the timid inflection of her outwardly calm voice.

She slithered her face away from his grasp, and began draining the sponge of the dark mud again.

Aemond sighed, and lowered himself back into the cold water – his lone eye never leaving the mould of her smaller frame.

"I heard that conversation… sometimes distracts the ill from the discomfort of the cleaning process, Your Grace."

Now turned to his exposed back, the girl's hand wavered over his punctured shoulder. She waited three, perhaps four seconds, before her arm finally breached contact with the wounded flesh.

Aemond took in a sharp breath, but remained otherwise silent, until she prompted him to speak again.

"How… how did such a thing even come to happen?"

Aemond's chest rose and fell with each labored pant. His eye remained tightly closed, his jaw awfully set. Her question registered into his mind, and a reply formed at the former base of his thoughts.

For a while, however, the One-Eyed Prince remained quiet – weighing the option of telling her the truth rather carefully.

"A Frey company was marching South." He hissed as her light hand came over his flesh, applying soft pressure in its wake. "The fog of the morning masked them from me – but Vhagar's shadow still went right above their heads."

The woman brought her free hand to rest over his lower back, and her fingers rubbed soothing circles into the dampness of his skin. "It was… very lucky that you didn't get more hurt."

She scorned herself inwardly, but kept her curiosity at bay. She wouldn’t ask him whether the company had risen victorious, or if he burnt all those men to the ground.

The latter option, in any case, seemed more than likely.

The Crown Prince tensed visibly, but didn’t scoot away from her soothing touch. A deep sigh parted from his cracked lips, and the man revelled at their sudden closeness.

He ached to talk to her, to plead with her to welcome him inside her heart – and into her bed. He could feel his own beat loudly, and his body trembled in unquenched lust and rage.

Still, he knew it was too soon for that.

Not once during their rash acquaintance, did the girl before he talk with so much interest about his day with him.

His thoughts trailed to Alys, and Aemond wondered if half her new admission was owed to her – if indeed the two women secured a friendship within the last two weeks, if his whore became her confidant, if she breathed in her trust in him.

He would have to talk to her later. Thank her, if he was feeling apt and generous.

(Y/N)'s breath caught in the shell of his ear, and the Targaryen Prince nibbled at his lower lip. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down; the coldness of the water gave him the strength to concentrate, by the sliding of small ripples down his exposed chest and abdomen. The ache of his wound was a small price to pay, if only to feel her knuckles working against his back.

"There we are. All done, Your Grace."

She rose up from her kneeling stance, wincing at the sudden change of perspective, and at the throb of her tired knees. She gingerly presented the clean set of clothes and bathing robes to him. Her head remained turned to the side, and her hand instantly let go of the heavy clothes, the moment his palm came into contact with them.

In the stead of returning to sit idly by their resting place, the woman graced him with a final look, and let out a faint mutter. "I'll leave you to it."

She wavered but a moment, and turned her stare to the ruined clothes; the ones that Aemond had so carelessly discarded on the floor, as he prepared for his undeserved nightly soak.

The shadow of a long-laid plan gleamed beneath her silent gaze.

"I can wash them for you tomorrow – after my bath. It might be wiser to keep the nature of your wounds hidden. The maids needn't worry over how much blood you lost."

Aemond's brows furrowed in slight shock, and the Prince remained wordless in the face of her sensible suggestion.

And yet her eyes spoke with so much sincerity, that he gleefully allowed the pang of hope to warm his unforgiving features.

"As you wish." He rumbled out, while forcing himself to move his stare to the folded clothes before him.

His eye trailed back to his hands' agile ministrations, and Aemond soon began to roll over his linen breeches, covering his half-hard cock with the help of the rough material.

A throaty groan etched from deep within his throat, however, as he reached for the pristine shirt.

The girl stopped in her tracks, and a deep scowl settled over her fair features.

The struggle he was undergoing would have been music to her ears – were it not for the solidarity of her position. For the millionth time that night, she reminded herself of her plan and her desperation to escape.

Thus, unbeknownst to her own better judgment, the Lady compelled herself to seek him further.

Although her words failed to assist her, the way she gingerly reached, with her hand wide and outstretched, made Aemond aware of her pending intent.

Their bodies were inches apart. The girl sucked in a hurried breath, and neglected to exhale it as the oxygen hit her lungs.

Aemond was burning up – and whether that was from the lack of fresh air within the confining room, or the first telltale sign of fever, or her – he was lost on saying anymore. His weakened arm slithered into the sleeve of his shirt, though the pain was long forgotten.

And instead of focusing on his poised movements, his glassy eye ran hungrily over her face and hypnotic features.

(Y/N)'s fingertips grazed over the light material. Her tired eyes softened at the familiar feeling. The threat of tears beckoned at the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them all away in a hasty movement. Melancholy ate away at her, far more often than she knew was wise to allow.

Still she remembered, if only for a moment, the raptures of Jacaerys' warm embrace. And how, in the heat of summer, that very same cloth felt against her heated cheek.

They must have had the same seamstress, the same tailor. Of course, she thought to herself in a bitter manner, after all, they are both Princes.

… Were.

But if she closed her eyes, she could pretend – No, she chastised herself fully, such a thing just cannot be. And you'd be a fool to attempt to it.

The magnetic pull between them trebly pried the two souls together. And it would be yet another minute, until (Y/N) finally took a step back, opening her mouth to announce the end of her intimate task.

Her eyes fell on the stone hard floor, and she carefully turned her back around him.

The long waves of her hair shifted over her modest nightgown, covering her mounds of flesh with a slight shift to the left.

"I'm going to sleep." She pathetically uttered, as the warmth that emanated from Aemond's form not moments prior, still fell heavily over her slight frame.

Mechanically she gripped the satin sheets and engulfed herself with them – a slight comfort came over her, as the coldness of the unused bedding fanned gently over her scorched limbs.

Aemond remained stuck in place, and a heaved breath rumbled from within his chest. The red in his cheeks would have put both their Houses' seals to shame – For once, he was glad she wasn't looking his way.

***

The rest of the night was spent in washed quietness.

And his Lady might have made it up: the dip at the edge of the bed, the smell of fresh pine and wildfire that caressed her in her sleepy state, and the slight "Thank you" that dabbled from her captor's lips.

“You plan to ride on dragon-back again? So soon?” The echo of Alys' voice carried her worry throughout the silent clearing.

The first rays of sunlight caught flame into her raven hair, lighting her features in such a way, that it accentuated her every perpetual scar and wrinkle. The fire inside her eyes could rival the one of a trueborn Targaryen, were it not for her strong outer appearance.

Aemond moved his body at a leisurely pace, not even bothering to throw the woman one of his usual vexing looks.

"Do you think dear nuncle will put a stop to the siege of the Twins, should the word spread about my condition?"

His cutting words rendered the woman speechless, and the Rivers witch simply clicked her tongue, whilst glancing at the green grass below her.

"War awaits no one, my dear." He asserted definitively, as he gripped onto Vhagar's long bridles.

The mighty beast let out a shaken roar, as Aemond winced once his wounded shoulder made light contact with her dark-green scales.

"Gīda ilagon, Vhagar. Sagon nykeēdrosa... Sȳz hāedar." He instinctively reached for her, and caressed her lower belly with one of his gloved hands.

At their calm exchange, Alys bit over her lower lip, harshly enough to draw her own blood. "You should stay." She managed to draw out, "At least a while – going in search of your uncle today, instead of tomorrow, won't make a difference to your brother's cause."

But her voice of reason reached deafened ears. For Aemond Targaryen was set on paying the debt he owed. The debt he agreed to take on, the moment his dragon clasped onto Lucaerys, swallowing the bastard whole.

"Everything matters at war, Alys." He hummed impatiently, while snapping his head in her general direction. "What do you think will happen to you, should Daemon reach Harrenhal? Your pretty head will rest near mine, impaled on a sharpened spike."

But if she told you to stay put, you would do just that, wouldn’t you? Her bitter thoughts chewed her conscious away.

Alys spat out a lowly curse, as she shifted uncomfortably in place. "Daemon Targaryen was here once, not long before you. He didn’t kill me then."

"Because you didn't matter back then." The Prince Protector of the Realm hissed through painfully gritted teeth, "You were no one to him. You were a wet nurse who merely spread her legs for him."

The man turned his back to her, as he wordlessly bound Vhagar's bridle over his wrist again and again.

"And last I checked, your cunt failed to inspire him."

Her mouth parted in a silent protest, and her green eyes widened in partial distress. "Still I should remain in luck," She choked out through a breathless laugh, "for it has never failed to inspire you."

"You are perfectly right," Aemond's laughter was humorless and brash, "And it is because of this loose cunt that Aegon nearly lost the support of Storm's End."

The Prince spun around on his heel's end, and trapped the woman in between his hard chest and restless dragon. "Sometimes I think you cost me more than you're worth." He whispered calmly into her ear, while trailing his index finger over the sharp edge of her jaw. "For speaking back to me, I could have you executed."

The finality of his words drew her body closer to the ancient beast, and Vhagar let out a displeased grunt. Amusement pulled at the corners of his downturned mouth.

"Still you should remain in luck," He mocked her with an airy laugh, "I find myself in an exceedingly good mood today."

The back of his hand came to play with a loose lock of her messy braid, and the Prince smiled at her stance and her bewildered look. "But you've been a most useful asset, haven't you, my dear?" He obliged her with a teasing smirk, "Lady Tully responded well to you, hasn't she? Tell me," He paused momentarily, as he trailed his hands to the narrow middle of her waist, and back up again. "Have you kept up your training with her?"

Alys' face fell into a frown, as she staggered a frustrated look. Aemond was toying with her.

"That dull book she pretends to read at night has the maps of three secret passages hidden amongst the latter pages. Two of them lead to that cell into the West Wing – but of course, she doesn't know that. The third one leads to the stables of Harrenhal."

Aemond hummed pleasedly, and the man soon took a wide step back, allowing his paramour enough space for proper breathing. "You did well." He smiled wistfully, "I should reward you well tonight. You may think of something you desire. I will see to it once I return."

"I would very much like you to stay and heal today." She urged him not a heartbeat later, surprising even herself with the intensity of her tone.

Aemond's composure broke with the licks of roaring laughter – one that was empty, and fell devoid of any feelings of fondness or grief.

"Think of something else." He urged her coolly, and dismissively pushed past her, to reach for his dragon's saddle.

"'Tis a good thing you shall never be a wife, Alys. The role of the worried wench doesn't suit you one bit."

"Keep feeding her half-truths and lies." He encouraged the woman with a final reach over her hand. He squeezed once over her balled-up fist – acting as both a promise, and a taciturn warning on what should happen, should she let him down again. "Regarding whatever else she may have to say… you'll report it back immediately."

With that, the Kinslayer of the Trident took off, leaving the promise of bone and ash behind his dragon's menacing ascend.

The Eyrie was, on all accounts, smaller even than Maegor's Holdfast. Inside the stronghold nestled the Arryns, hidden deep beneath the illusion of the smallest stronghold of the main seven Kingdoms. Despite its intermediate size, the Keep of the Giant's Lance deemed itself one of the safest places to be – Hardly a lie, especially now, Cain Waters ineptly hummed, once his wobbly feet carried him over the stoney threshold.

Despite its less-than-imposing size, and lack of sheer volume, (Y/N)'s sworn shield felt himself smaller than ever before.

How would he dare account for his whereabouts? Reason his shortcomings?

How could he hope to explain to his Lord that not only did he return empty-handed, without his beloved granddaughter on horseback – he returned without the notion of a hand at all?

Between the two strange figures with whom he traveled, it was Mira Florent who rested loyally by his side – her strength and stability allowing the Waters bastard to lean into her, if only for a fleeting moment, during the ascend of the narrow stairs.

"Take heart," She whispered, "Your Lord is a kind and understanding one. You won't be facing trial for this."

His mere reply was a solitary grunt, and a quick smile, dejectedly thrown her way.

Between the two strange figures with whom he traveled, Albar had remained behind. The mute man shrugged his head decidedly when Cain gestured towards the waiting castle, and Mira explained to him that the Vale scarcely left him feeling safe and wanted.

And he understood, perhaps far too well – the feeling of dejection a bastard boy felt, as he stepped foot into the land of his birth.

***

He'd been granted the comfort of a Maester and a hot soak, almost immediately after his appearance at the Arryns' Great Door.

The Lady of the Vale proved to be a kindred spirit, capable of great nurture, despite her lack of heirs to her family's ancestral throne. She gasped loudly at the sight of him. Her eyebrows furrowed in grave distraught, and her lower lip trembled as the healers informed her of the state of his right hand.

Her searching eyes reminded him of the ones of his own mother – neither particularly warm nor cold towards him, but fair and just in their own accord.

She almost decided against calling upon him to the Trouts' Black Council, but the young Oscar Tully had entirely different plans.

His eyes, as they were, were socketed by a deep, but elusive brown. They spoke and reminded him of a whole different tale than the one of his fair, poor Lady.

And it was Oscar's eyes, so similar in shape to hers, who bore ghastly holes into the back of Ser Cain's skull. His arm rose up, as if to cut off the man's retelling – his nostrils flared up in disgust, and his face twisted into a painful scowl.

"So what you're telling me… is that you failed to bring her back."

Cain's eyes hardened at her brother's words, and the knight nibbled on his lower lip, in an attempt to calm himself.

Although a brave and honest man, he dared not look in the eyes of Lord Grover Tully – he dared not see what lay beneath his wilted face. Thus, all his attention focused in on the chirping lass.

"Aye, my Lord." He mustered up to tell him, "I lost her to the One-Eyed Prince. We escaped Harrenhal, and managed to get as far as the Saltpans, but –"

The boy scoffed at his attempt to pardon and explain himself. He nodded affirmatively, and scrutinized Cain with his piercing gaze.

"You returned with an empty hand, Ser Cain. You failed: miserably."

His back straightened in an attempt to appear bigger, and the hot-headed lass rose from his chair in a hurling daze.

"Because of you, my sister is in the hands of that cycloptic freak. Because of you, we don't know anything about her whereabouts. She could be tortured, enslaved, sullied – worse!"

Lady Jane Arryn clicked her tongue in disbelief, and beckoned her guard to guide the boy back into a sitting stance.

"That is quite enough, Oscar." She asserted calmly, "We have no evidence of such a feat."

"Of course we don't!" The young Lordling huffed annoyedly, jolting on the brink of madness, "The deranged cripple wouldn't reply to any of our ravens!"

His face contorted animalistically, the freckles on his face being taken by the deep shade of crimson that coloured in his plumper cheeks. "And with you here, Waters, we don't even have the certainty that (Y/N) is still alive!"

"Oscar." Grover's deep voice echoed a warning through the quietness of the tiny Keep.

As if struck in the face, the youngest of the Tully brothers shifted in his seat again. "My sister's fate is breached unknown," He cried out in a collapsing tune, "She's our family, grandfather, my only sister! Pray tell, why does it look as if I'm the only one who gives a damn?"

The graying Lord and the narrow Lady both leaned towards a perplexing look. But before any of them could reply to his laid-out challenge, (Y/N)'s brother urged them further, as he hissed through his gritted teeth. "It would have been better for you not to return at all, Ser Cain. It would have been better for all parties involved to have sent me in his stead, Grandfather!"

His shoulders slouched forward, and the brazen boy fought with Grover's intense stare. "Had I failed, I wouldn’t have even returned at all." Oscar roared over the silent council, proclaiming his intent with a defying raise. "I would sooner have died, than see her be taken by that monster again."

"What would you have had me do, boy?!" Grover Tully raised his voice in turn, "You fool. Would you have had me send you away for her? Do you think your death would have made you a martyr?!"

Cain's lips pursed into a tight line, as the Riverlords before him bickered further. Even Lady Jane Arryn seemed to be left speechless, unsure of when or how to stop their arguing.

Family feuds were neither one's strongest suit.

"Do you think," His Grandfather uttered, "that if you were to die, anyone would remember you fondly?!" The red in his cheeks matched the one on his grandson's face, and the elder Lord broke out into a coughing fit. "Your sacrifice would mean nothing. And when the dust settled over Westeros, and the war was done, you would just be another casualty. Another body to burn in a communal."

Almost immediately, his eyes softened, and their deep creases faltered on his face.

The Lord of Riverrun grunted in fatigue, but still rose himself securely on his two able feet. He marched towards the huffing boy, and placed a wrinkled hand over his sweaty forehead, urging him to quiet down.

"It's not about glory, Grandfather." He spat out lowly, as his ears began to match his fiery locks of curly hair. "It's about family. Our family. It's about ensuring its survival."

The older man gave the lass a curt nod. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand, and turned to the knight with a downturned smile.

"There wasn't a knight more fit for the task than Ser Cain." He confirmed his judgment with a tired gesture in his direction. "He was knighted at five and ten. You are over your seven and tenth birthday, boy, and haven’t been even mirthed a squire."

Oscar sucked in a protesting breath, feeling the eyes of everyone in the room fall before him. His brows furrowed in a dangerous quarrel, and his blood ran hot. "Yet even with all the skill in the world, he still failed."

Lord Grover was losing his patience, "Yes, grandson, that he did! He failed, despite all the signs that pointedly told us otherwise – do you think you'd do an equitable job? When you haven't even once crossed swords in a Joust or Tourney?"

Nearby the aching knight, Lady Arryn renowed her position.

She whispered to her waiting guard, and the man took a step ahead, hitting over the chantry with the hilt of his sword.

The noise that erupted grabbed the attention of both grandson and grandfather.

"The turn of events marked by Ser Cain's departure means we need to readjust our plans." She commanded their heed calmly, "It is… unfortunate; that Lady Tully's sworn shield failed to protect her. Yet here we all stand, warming our bottoms on a mine of gold."

Cain should have been grateful for the distraction she was offering. All the displeasure surged upon him evaporated within the click of her tongue, and less conventional language – still, even he had to remain weary on the subject he opened.

"On a mine of gold?" Oscar spat out sharply, feeling his self-control disperse by failing him again. "My Lady, do you think my sister's condition is a situation of great rejoice?"

The Lady's blue eyes cut through the boy deeply, and the young man closed his mouth in embarrassment, before sitting down again.

She reached for the goblet of wine, and wet her lips with it, "Our strategical situation couldn't be better. Not once have we had a spy of Harrenhal successfully return. In truth, we didn’t even think it possible." Her lithe hand pointed towards the bloodied knight, and her eyes glimmered in mischief, "Yet here stands our living proof."

She elegantly rose from her ivory throne, and signaled the man to take a seat at the bent table. As he gingerly followed her lead, the woman spared him with a kind glance, and met his glance with her deep azul gaze.

"From what I gather, you spent the better part of a month undetected in the Strongs' Keep. Is that true?"

Cain nodded stiffly, and rested his bulky hands over his tired knees. "Yes, my lady. That I have."

"And you were knighted at fifteen?" She alluded to what was early spoken.

"Yes, my lady."

"By Lord Hunter Redwyne." She urged him to clarify, through the edge of a quirked-up brow, and the callings of a small smile pulling at her dusted lips.

"Yes, my lady. The very one."

Lady Jane hummed, seemingly satisfied by his short answers. She turned her attention to Lord Grover and his tiresome grandson, and merely asked Ser Cain again.

"And you faced the Kinslayer in combat, cut by a Valyrian blade, and lived to tell the tale?"

"... Aye, my lady."

Oscar's eyes remained unyielding. But Grover Tully glanced at the man before him, and offered him a wordless bow.

"Tell me, Ser, how would you like to command your own battalion?"

"You have to be patient." Alys chastised her deeply, as her luring features turned from flaccid to sharp. "Hardly enough time has passed since your last attempted escape – Aemond is still very much on edge."

The Lady's eyes turned to her. With the bridge of her nose scrunched up, and her fair features molded into a desperate plea, the girl looked more like a lost child, than an able and resourceful Lady.

Alys regarded her as such, and sighed deeply as she grasped onto her shoulders carefully.

"If I wait any longer, it'll be too late. I've already wasted three moon turns in this cursed Keep. I have to return to my family." The Tully spoke decidedly, leaving behind no room for arguing. She took a seat before the tiny mirror, that breached her modest vanity – a recent gift from Aemond, deduced by him to make her feel more like a proper lady.

The image that reflected within it looked at her like a dire stranger. The green silks she was dressed into, the pristine, braided hair that framed her pale cheeks perfectly; She was the vision of a flawless royal, a soft and polite maiden, untouched yet by the spoils of death and war.

'Would this be enough?' She asked herself desperately, whilst gripping the edge of her chair painfully.

Was this what Aemond had always wanted? The proof of her lack of autonomy, finally presented to him on a silver platter, as he returned from war every night?

Was he, perhaps, congratulating himself, every time he glanced at her, thinking himself master of the universe for making her arch and kneel?

Alys shook her head once more, and rested a hand over her bouncing knee.

"Patience is a virtue, Lady Tully. You needn't put yourself through any more unnecessary risks."

The Lady of Riverrun shook her head vigorously, finally snapping herself back to reality; Her actions were defying, and devoid of any capacity. Alys felt herself more confounded by the second. "I'll help you plan this thoroughly." The wood witch adverted. Her head quirked to the side in an encouraging gesture, and the girl nodded feverishly in reply.

Her green eyes widened in fair delight, and Aemond's lover lowered her gaze over the girl's book. "You memorized the passages well enough. Very soon, you shall put your knowledge to practice."

(Y/N) let out a tired sigh, and graced the older woman with a pleasant smile. "I'm lucky to have you, Alys" She played with her rings as she spoke, "Thank you. For everything."

As the elder woman finally left her Quarters in favor of bringing out the order for dinner, (Y/N) let out an aggravated groan.

Her long pretense would surely make her nauseous. But she would be a simpleton indeed, to place all her trust in Alys.

The walls preleened with the doom of silence. A cold breeze dug its way deeply into her spine, and the silent taste of passing and demise left a sour taste in her parted mouth.

***

Aemond began dinner as he wontedly did every day – praying to the Warrior to grant him strength in battle, to the Smith, to mend all that was left broken, to the Father, "to shine his light", and lead their souls out of the brink of darkness.

Each and every time, without fail, the girl would bring the pristine napkin to her mouth, masking the obvious way her lips would quirk into a most unyielding smile. His pious speech, and the way his hands painfully clasped together, begging for the blessing of resolve, made her scoff in blinding wonder.

Was he even aware of the words he mostly muttered? Did he ever stop to assess himself throughout the day, and realize the sin in which he debaucherously bathed in?

As his speech came to an end, the Lady preleened forward, grabbing a hold of the boiled-up stork.

How lovely it was to sit between comfort and chaos.

"You've never been one to speak much during our time spent together." Aemond remarked through the rumble of a solitary hum. "Yet I had hoped this last week softened your resolve, My Lady."

Her eyebrows rose in slight discomfort, as her eyes focused on the leisure movements of his bigger hands.

So he was softening up.

She opened her mouth almost immediately, but her hesitant eyes danced around his blinding stare. Her plump lips pressed into a hard line, and she exhaled loudly through her nose, in an attempt to ground herself.

"Not at all, Your Grace, I assure you." The cluttering of her fork came to a hoisted end, as Lady Tully aligned her head to focus directly on the One-Eyed Prince. "I should love nothing more than to talk to you… Please, do advise me on what you would like most to hear."

She fidgeted nervously with her silver rings – a quirk she developed whilst imprisoned in the Strong's Keep – and gingerly awaited his reply.

Your Grace. Your Grace. Your Grace.

The stillness in her speech and eyes drove the man effectively wild.

"Aemond." He stilled her faction through the reign of a distorted sigh.

She regarded him with a petrified stance. Her hands fell heavy over her legs in the wake of anticipation.

"... I-I beg your pardon?"

"Aemond." He repeated his name again, "We already break bread and sleep in the same bed." His lilac eye rose from his plate, and singled out her reddened cheeks. The man paused a while, as if to weigh his words carefully, and his cold, glassy orb, hungrily ran over her form. "It seems inevitable that we'd call each other by our given names. Yet you never once said mine throughout."

The girl could feel her throat dry up. While still maintaining his awkward stare, she reached for the glass of wine that rested by her left side. She wrapped her hand around its stem, and brought it to her paling lips.

The liquid courage slid down her throat in a quick, though burning manner, and (Y/N) had to swallow down an erratic cough. Her brows furrowed amidst, as she picked her words out slowly.

"I have called your name before, Prince Aemond. Many times throughout the moons, in fact."

He smiled at her perturbed reply, and shook his head in coy distraught.

"Not without the honorifics." The man clarified in a pleading tone, his voice growing hotter now. "... Just say my name." He sighed defeatedly. His hand gripped the edge of the table, silently, as the Targaryen Prince could feel his mind running with a thousand thoughts per passing minute.

The silence ate at him alive. She drowned the wine in a swift swing, and slouched forward to pour herself another glass.

She was too sober for this.

Lucaerys, Jacaerys, Cain.

Part of her wanted to pluck his eye out. Part of her wished nothing more than to make fun of him. Laugh, perhaps, at his desperate indiscretion. Do something – anything – to gauge a reaction out of him.

Any sort of reaction, that would make her pestering feelings for him leave her heavy soul.

Surprising even herself, adamantly going against her own wishes, the woman caught herself breathing out.

"... Aemond."

Unexpectedly he moved, by jumping to his ready feet, fully disregarding the oak chair as it hit the floor in a most perused manner.

The pang of noise alerted her, and seemingly, the guards outside. A while they remained in silence, listening in to the clash of metal that announced their unsure shifting.

But they wouldn’t come inside. The girl was lest aware of that.

As time pressed on, Aemond remained hammered in place, heaving out his weighty breaths and clasping his hands in aching fists.

Her eyes momentarily left his shadow – to turn again towards the poach of wine, and empty another glass in rapid gulps.

The heavy atmosphere inside the room hung lowly over their tired heads. (Y/N) resumed her mellow eating, wincing at the shakiness within her hands. She grabbed another piece of the boiled meat, though Aemond's stare soon made her drop it, and the girl clicked her tongue in disbelief; grabbing it instead with a piece of cloth, and securing it into a tight knot.

This time, it was her actions that had failed her. And perhaps it'd be her ready words that would prevail.

"Aemond." She spoke again, this time more confidently than before. The bitter liquor was burning her throat, her chest, her heart. She felt her limbs heavy – with both anticipation and frustration - borne out of lack of relief. She wanted to slap him, to hit him, to crush him beneath her feet.

She wanted to run away, to stay confined, forever inside this room, forever astute to what was going on in the outside world.

She wanted to feel something.

She wanted…

"Yes." Aemond encouraged her softly, and her attention came back to the raptures of the present tense. "There we go." He worded out, keeping his tone barely above a whisper.

Neither could tell when or how it happened – but Aemond's body was inches away from touching hers. The heat emanating from his beating heart washed over the meek form of the tipsy Lady. His Lady.

She gulped painfully, and the Prince could feel how his hands started spasming with the need to feel her. His nails bit the inside of his calloused palm, leaving deep and angry marks inside them.

His prominent veins shifted with his every faction. His face morphed into hopeful disarray.

"There we go." He repeated gently, "I want to hear your laughter. You never once laughed with me."

Her stare was hard to decipher. And yet confliction danced across her face. Aemond turned serious, and the stammering of his hands came to an untimely end. His eye bared holes into her reddened face; and the Lady humorously thought, if only for a moment, that it was a lucky thing he didn’t still have both his eyes. For such a stare would be embedded in her subconscious, bringing forth her swift undoing.

The corners of her mouth felt painful to bend and break. Shakily she smiled at him, and opened her mouth in shocked reclusion.

A shy laughter erupted from her unquenched throat, and the woman shuddered, surrendering the reins of reason to the drunken thoughts that sieged her.

Her laughter wasn't her own. The languid movements of her hands, that trailed over Aemond's chest, were not her own.

His finger came to caress her cheek. Her nose. Her brow. Her lips. Her mouth. The Crown Prince sucked in a dangerous breath, and secured his left arm loosely around her waist.

"Good girl," He spoke tenderly, his voice going from gruff to rough, "Such a good girl for me." His fingers combed through her messy braids, marking their swift undoing – taking a step back, he could feel the heat leave his head, in the favor of traveling lower, to meet the almost flaccid cock confined in the tightness of his pants. "Say my name again. Laugh again." He commanded in a pleading meowl. His lips twitched in anticipation, and his eyes trailed lower, lower still, from up her face, down to her soaring bosom.

"Aemond."

"(Y/N)."

A solitary look of shame was shared between them. Perhaps pushed forward by the only remaining faction of rationale, the two placed a step in between each other, but even that proved to be too fickle of a barrier to keep them whole apart.

Aemond reached to cup her face with his own trembling hand – on her end, the girl's digits trailed over from his high cheekbones, down to his prominent cupid's bow, in an all but gentle caress.

"Avy jorrāelan." He hissed through painfully gritted teeth, allowing his head to rest in the crook made of her shoulder blade and neck. "Avy jorrāelan." He repeated, the vulnerability in his voice making him lose the hold he had over himself.

"Se Jaes emagon qrimbrōstan issa naejot jorrāelagon ao." His feathered breath came into contact with her dainty neck. (Y/N) gasped lightly, as she felt the first of his many kisses being tenderly placed over her jaw and neck.

Her head was pounding, and her eyes were screwed shut, as the coldness of the wall hit her in perused waves. The impropriety of the soft moans and sighs that filled her ears to the brim left her confused and wanting.

The worst of it was that she didn’t know whether they came from her or him.

She felt as though her head was being harshly held below the water, and the girl clawed at her dress to loosen her tight bodice, which seemed to constrict even her erratic breathing.

Aemond's attention moved from her earlobe back to her lips. He felt how her hands contorted sporadically, and he placed his own palm over hers, to put an end to her hasty movements, and give her a sense of calmness. His fingers suddenly entwined with hers, as his form hovered above her. His throat etched with a lousy moan, and his mouth finally crashed with hers.

(Y/N)'s eyes opened at the shocking scene, and her lips suddenly parted, either to beg or to protest against him, but Aemond's hot tongue found entrance into her warm cave – deciding instead to deepen the kiss, and press himself further against her smaller form.

The outline of his throbbing cock molded against the shape of the woman's thigh, and the Prince Protector of the Realm let out a pleasured hiss, once her insistent writhing ended up brushing up his weeping tip. "Jaes, ao istan vēttan syt issa." He mumbled against her swollen lips, "Sepār jurnegon skorkydoso īlon kostagon fāelor hēnkirī."

She let out a fatigued whimper, and swiftly turned her head around, putting an abrupt end to their meek and vicious pecks.

"What's wrong, hmm? Dōna hāedar… ȳdra daor hakogon qrīdrughagon hen issa sir."

Aemond's lips were soft and tender, leaving behind an almost vivacious bite over her exposed parts. His pace had been filled with an animalistic hunger; the longing inside his eye caught her unprepared, and her lips parted with the desire to feel something – anything – that his palpable mouth would keenly offer.

(Y/N) shuddered with her eyes closed, and grabbed a hold of his long, white hair, leading the man closer yet to her swelling heat.

The way in which he held her should have felt so very wrong. But at that moment, the only thing she could do was extend her arm back up to him, and guide him with an insistent pull over his silky locks: encouraging him to bring forth his descent upon her lips.

She disregarded the way a figment of her psyche screamed at her. To stop her ministrations, to slap his calloused hands away from her. For if she kept her eyes closed, and focused solely on the shape of him, then she could almost pretend that the man before her had nothing to do with her beloved Jace.

She could almost pretend that he was Jace.

Aemond's pupil was left blown wide – so much so, that the lilac of his iris could almost be left neglected. He wrapped his hands around the lady's thighs, and hoisted her up to meet him by his narrow hips. Both moaned into the other's mouth, and the Prince soon found his way into the raptures of the silken bed.

His heated cock kissed the outlines of her soaked cunny. Aemond sighed deeply over the arch of her neck, and pawed away at her untouched bodice.

(Y/N)'s hands rested still upon his eyepatch, and, with a swift and hasty movement, she yanked it off his sculpted face.

"We need to stop…" She moaned, defeated, and felt how Aemond's body stiffened up below her, as the harsh realization finally hit them both.

She had uttered the words aloud.

Half expecting him to blow out fuming, the woman tried to pry herself off his fevered body, but his hands reigned like iron shackles over the inside of her spreading thighs.

"Do we?" He whispered lowly, whilst leaning in to steal another kiss from her again.

"We shouldn’t." She strained herself to say once more, and Aemond nodded, still chasing her lips with his.

She melted into his reluctant touch, and hummed against his beating heart. His hands dug deeply into her resting sides; his fingertips scattered over her translucent spine, leaving their possessive mark. "This isn’t right."

"I know, I know," He gasped, "Seven Hells, I know…"

"Yn nyke istan zarvīzis," He pressed a finger over her swollen lips, "Nyke emagon issare sīr sȳz se… sīr, sīr zarvīzis."

With the last ounce of her strength, she bit over his lower lip, dragging a wanton moan from out of his rosy lips.

"Ao aehron raqagon ao ȳdra daor jaelagon bisa..." He chanted, while latched onto her burning sear, "Yn ao jaelagon issa sepār hae olvie. Ao mazilībagon syt issa – sepār hae qosaevaerī."

His High Valyrian had made her dizzy. And at first, she tried to pay his words her mind, she tried to grapple and understand what he was saying.

A starved meowl left her panting lips.

"You can tell me to stop," The words that poured out of his mouth washed upon her like a rippled tide, "You can tell me to stop… and I will..."

Her body quickly arched against him; her shaky hands came to rest over his hips. She laced her mouth again with his, expecting rough, dominant kisses – but Aemond's hands propped themselves loosely against her cheeks, his thumbs pliantly stroking her with untoward devotion. His single eye drank her in with reverence.

"Please…" He whimpered into her mouth, "Avy jorrāelan." He confessed to her, again and again, trying his hardest not to take her against the cold floor – and not fuck her straight into the messy mattress.

Her limbs felt heavy. Lacking their autonomy. The body she was nestled in still wasn't her own.

"... Why?" She asked him disdainfully, sporadically, as his index finger came to pry open her haughty entrance.

His eye widened in perplexed ruin, but the Prince soon stumbled over his words again.

That bastard Jace must have taught her the gist of that.

"... I wish I knew." Came his sole and sincere reply.

Just like that, her eyes welled with the threat of tears.

His hands, his hold, his voice, his mouth. It was all wrong. In truth none could ever hope to feel right.

Flashes of her old lover, of his baby brother – who was so small the last she'd seen him –, of her sworn shield came into view. All of them, gone as if they never were. All of them, with their memories trampled deep beneath her sprawled-out form.

She wasn't a woman of the Faith. Not after what had happened. Not after the spoils of war that she, herself, felt like angry whips upon her skin. But her eyes fluttered close, and she begged the Mother for forgiveness, whilst a tear rolled off her ticking cheek.

She brought a hand to her wobbly lips, and began to violently rub away any remaining trace of Aemond's presence.

She was disgusted. With him, with herself, with the world, with the image of her Jace – that surged in her mind the second she blinked, the moment that she jolted awake in her misery.

On his end, (Y/N)'s display of pure abhorrence failed to falter Aemond's lustful grief. Why, if she did not desire him, did she fall into his arms again and again?

Love was the death of duty. And longing was the doom of all.

"Fucking cock tease…" The Prince growled, grief-stricken, "How much longer are you going to give into me, just to push me away?"

His patience had been running thin. The ache in his breeches was long forgotten. In its stead, the urgent sting in his heart dragged the man into the pits of madness. "What is it this time?" He groveled over her closed legs again.

Her recuperation had been jovial and quick. Adrenaline replaced the pain and shame, and the woman tried to get off the bed, put as much distance as she knew how in between her and the ravished Prince.

For the first time since he came to be, Aemond would not let her escape his clutches. As she moved backwards, he persisted forward – following her wobbly feet throughout the room with the spare of his predatory eye.

"Y-You said –" She tried ceaselessly to accuse him. "You said you wouldn't –"

"And you're right. I meant every. Single. Thing. I told you." He growled into her frightened ear, as his hands came to cage her, trap her under the seclusion of the hard, stone wall.

"You're mine." He hissed desperately, as he clasped her jaw to face him. "You've always been mine, you fucking harlot. From the moment you stepped foot into Harrenhal, your life belonged to me."

Perhaps Aemond was right, and she was nothing but a harlot. A treacherous swine that hung onto whatever he could give her - so starved and devoid of love and warmth, that she'd dare to stoop so lowly with him.

Aemond descended his unquenched rage over her exposed neck, and began leaving tender love bites all over, in spite of her lackluster pleas.

(Y/N)'s head felt like it was about to explode. She felt sick to her stomach – the wine and the distraught both built up inside of her. All she wanted now was to be left alone. For Aemond's touch felt oddly comforting, and her tired eyes began to close. "You drive me insane." She heard him choke.

She wanted to open her mouth. To urge the Prince to stop; but her word hole was sewn shut, taken over by the grip of feared confusion. While his hand hoisted her up by the waist again, her hand went around him, to grab onto whatever she could find. Finally, she stopped at the dragon-glass dagger, that securely latched onto Aemond's waist. Effectively, she wrapped her fingers around its silver hilt, and sheathed it out of its confinements.

"I swear on whatever God you want me to, I'll slit your throat if you don't stop touching me –" She wailed into Aemond's form, as she felt him stiffen up in tumultation.

His nostrils flared up at her attempt to intimidate him, and yet… his face looked most serene, as the cutting edge of the dagger reached close to his ivory skin. She raised her brows at him in utter surprise; for she expected him to surrender. His arms snaked away from her, and Aemond watched her intensely with his piercing gaze.

She could kill him, consequences be damned. And if she faced trial for this, then at least she'd have taken out a Green and Vhagar.

Her hand was shaking. Her breathing became erratic. She'd held a blade on multiple occasions; she'd fantasized about cutting Aemond's throat more times than she could bring herself to count. And yet…

His lack of movement – of worry – rattled her endlessly. She wanted to scream at him, to push him, to cut him. But for some reason couldn't bring herself to do it.

The realization that she just couldn’t do it made her almost drop the knife from the tight hold she'd kept it under.

"Why aren't you the least bit worried?" She spat out lowly, with her body trembling and her jaw set tight.

Aemond remained quiet and taciturn. His eye fixed her face carefully, and his hand gently wrapped around her quivering wrist. "Come on now…" He whispered to her, and watched how her eyes filled with the endless tears of frustration, how the hot droplets rolled down her reddened cheeks.

It would take another moment for her to drop the blade.

A moment she would forever grow to resent.

"I fucking hate you." She hissed through a breathless sob.

Oh, how she wished to hate him. Hate him as she did when they first clashed swords. Hate him as she did when she heard Jace talk about Lucaerys' death.

"Liar." Aemond rasped in acknowledgment.

And, just like that, the damage had been done. The blade rested back into his hand within an instant, and Aemond hit the wall behind her with murderous intent. "Fucking liar." He whispered again, breathing less and less sporadically, trying to wash his nerves away.

"I have been so good to you. But no matter what I do, it'll never be enough for you. Hmm?" He shook his head adamantly, and dug his fingers into the cold tiles of the cursed stronghold. "I am a patient man. But I will not wait a minute longer."

Her face twisted into a painful scowl, and the girl pushed over his chest roughly, but Aemond was quick to deny her exit. "This is not ideal," He muttered lowly to himself, "Yet you need to be taught a lesson."

"What are you d–"

Her words died upon her lips. Aemond hummed in dissatisfaction, and immediately brought the blade into her view.

She let out a scream of pure horror, but his pliant mouth silenced her with a scorching kiss. Her whole body was shaking, and the Prince Regent let out a frustrated sigh.

"Cease your crying, you hateful woman." He chastised her cruelly, "The fucking Gods sent you to ruin me."

At that moment, she wasn't above pleading. Her knees wobbled in place, and her orbs frantically searched for a way out. For something to grip and swing at the man before her.

Aemond's eye softened at the sight of her. Despite the pang of guilt he felt, a teasing and self-assuring smirk formed at the corners of his upturned lips.

So Jacaerys hadn't told her. He never mentioned their Valyrian way to her.

His triumphant feat soon washed away, as her trembling hands came into contact with his. "Ÿdra daor dīnagon, issa gevie Dāria. Nyke jāhor dōrī jaelagon naejot ōdrikagon." He told her adherently, truthfully, despite the obvious language barrier.

He took a moment to regain his composure. Grab a hold of her balled-up fists and remember the ancient words he'd only ever read about in his history books.

"Hen lantoti ānogar. Va sỹndroti vāedroma."

He ripped the sleeve from his linen shirt, and placed it over their entwined fingers.

"Mēro perzot gīhoti. Elēdroma iārza sĩr. Izuli ampā perzī."

The blade finally pressed down, over the softness of his left palm. Aemond winced at the sudden pain, and made a mental note to only nick the frightened girl with it, when the time came for that.

"Prūmĩ lanti sēteksi. Hen jenỹ māzīlarion. Qēlossa ozündesi."

(Y/N)'s eyes widened to a comical amount. Somewhere along the way, it seemed, she grew aware of Aemond's intent. She refused to show her hand to him, placing them both behind her back, and holding on for her dear life.

He let out a disapproving grunt, and reached his bloodied hands to her, yanking her right hand from underneath her strong grasp.

"No! No –!" She kept on screaming, and the guards outside shifted in place, before they fell under their oath of silence once again.

The cold and slick edge of the dragon glass pressed lightly against her writhing palm. Aemond made a smaller cut, and carried on with his rapid mumbling.

"Sỹndroro öñö jēdo. Rỹ kīvia mazvestraksi."

His very fist came to cut over his lower lip. His gory hand then reached for her jaw, hammering her in her place, and a sharp sting reflected on her weary stance. Aemond profited off the moment, to ease the dagger into her waiting mouth.

The metallic taste flooded her senses – the girl saw red before her eyes, and failed to register how his fingers came upon his and her forehead, painting them over with a ghastly symbol.

The Targaryen Prince reached for her hand again, and pressed her wounded palm cohesively with his.

"Following the tradition of my House from before the Doom of Old Valyria, I, Aemond of House Targaryen, bind myself to (Y/N) of House Tully, by blood, by soul, by life –"

"NO!"

" – And I pledge to her: that we are now one flesh, one heart, one body. Now and forever."

As he finally pried his limbs away from her trapped body, Aemond allowed his lips to feathery trace over her twisted mouth. She glanced at him, with wide-set and teary eyes.

"Fuck your fucking pledge."

Some grand venue she received.

A single question hung loosely into the air.

"Are you going to rape me now?"

She scarcely registered her own words as they left her mouth.

Aemond's eye widened at her query, and the Targaryen bit over his lower lip, as a deep grimace morphed the fairness of his features. He looked almost dumbfounded by her made assumption.

As soon as it came, the look of utter betrayal left his face.

"You would slit my throat with the knife." Was his mere reply.

***

Sometime along the night, he left.

The mighty roars of Vhagar registered themselves in the far-away distance.

That night, and only that night, she allowed herself the sacrilege of prayer. And she did so, again and again, pleading to the Seven for a blind arrow to reach his neck.

On the back of Vhagar, Aemond shuddered away from the impossible waves of heat, that licked deliciously at his stiffened cock; whenever her breathing would reach his ears, he felt tortured, trapped beneath the swell of lust and wanton desire.

Despite his abhorrent decision, he knew what their marriage meant. He knew all too well what his cruel bind had done, and yet… he felt no plausible remorse for the situation at hand.

The support of Storm's End, Floris Baratheon, Alys – mere casualties compared to the brink of having her, to knowing that she was finally his, as he was wholly hers.

Eventually, she'd have to love him. Eventually, she'd learn to do so.

A marriage wasn't a marriage until it was consummated. But he would give her, as he had promised, the illusion of choice, if nothing else.

As the cold night's air whipped his face again and again, and as Vhagar's thundering resounded over the burnt trees of the Riverlands, Aemond sighed, and brought a shaky hand to the strings of his breeches.

Scared as she was, his Lady made for a beautiful bride. It was such a shame that he didn’t get to see her wear the traditional Targaryen gown.

The pad of his thumb trailed over the cut he'd made – the same cut that now rested over her extended palm.

The flesh would scar, he thought, well pleased; whenever he looked at her, he'd get to see how she was undeniably his.

A possessive growl etched from his parted lips. Images of her paling skin, of her laugh. Her smile. The way her eyes bore into him, as if she always knew something he didn’t.

Leisurely, he began to pump his cock. Below him, Vhagar let out an anguished roar.

"Nyke gīmigon, Vhagar. Gīmigon."

Droplets of precum rolled over his clenching digits, coating his knuckles and the base of his shaft in a translucent, but thick ropes.

He groaned desperately, aching to relieve his frustration deep within her, but alas…

His gruff moans filled the air around him; and Aemond could feel his climax building up, as visions of her flooded his thoughts.

How she would feel underneath him. How she would writhe on the edge of bliss, begging, pleading for him to finally take her.

He could feel her legs wrapping around him, and feel himself sliding inside her with ease, praising her for being so good to him.

He wrapped Vhagar's bridle tight over his arm, and secured himself better in his leather saddle. His grip tightened around his dripping cock, but it was just not good enough.

The pace with which he fucked his hand picked up in a wilding speed. Aemond sighed in pleasure, and felt his hips move to their own accord. His breathing became rugged. His very mind was not his own.

He wondered what other scars her body bore. What the story behind them was, and how many of them came by his swift undoing.

Would she lie down and let him take care of everything? Or would she want to stay on top, jumping up and down on him, each time with a harsher thrust?

His hips rose and fell with his less than gentle pace, and the man pushed his length deeper into his steadfast grip.

He knew that if she let him touch her, he wouldn't be leaving her bed for weeks. He would pull countless orgasms from her, time and time again, until she begged for him to stop. He would have her so full of his seed, so the Gods' help him, that she would swell with his child – his trueborn child – before the rise of the first rays of sun.

Feeling his release beckon, the Prince set on a final rhythm, one that left his loins more in need than ever. With a loud hiss, he pushed himself inside his fist one final time, spilling his seed onto the saddle beneath him.

He panted wildly into the night, and suddenly opened his lustful eye, allowing a tear of ecstasy to roll off his scarred cheek.

"Se Jaes daoriot rȳbagon naejot nykeā vala raqagon issa. Yn nyke jāhor jikagon va issa knees se kostilus zirȳla naejot ivestragī issa emagon ao. Ao issi issa rōva botagon se se olvie rivaestra lambraes aohvra."

He couldn't keep up the charade with her. He would tell her all about it, once things finally settled down.

Word in Harrenhal traveled fast.

First it was her brash arrival. Then her impromptu marriage.

No one dared to talk to her. Yet she was never without the indiscreet eyes that followed her about.

Her situation wasn't without its ups and falls: Aemond felt no need to guard her as stiffly anymore – For where would the former Tully go, now that she bared his Targaryen name?

She was allowed to breach into some castle corners, always in the company of hefty guards, of course, and basked herself in some new acquired perks of freedom.

On the same account, whilst Alys remained loyal to her role as her lady-in-waiting, the tension between them couldn't have been more pain-strikingly high.

"I never asked for this. You must believe me."

She gave the younger woman a domineering stare, and only shook her head, obliged.

"And yet here you stand, inside his bed."

Word in Harrenhal spread fast – like a fire left unattended, like the so-called "Targaryen madness".

But a new, particular rumor gobbled the attention of everyone present.

Daemon Targaryen was to return to the Riverlands. And with him and Caraxes, he'd bring forth the formerly wild dragon, Sheepstealer, mounted by none other than Nettles.

The Lady had been acquainted with the bastard girl before – when the Sowing of the Dragon Seeds reveled in their first borne crops.

Another troubling report came forth. King's Landing had been secured by Rhaenyra.

When (Y/N) heard the news be whispered, she almost collapsed on her knees in glee. This must have marked the end of it. Surely, the usurpers would be put through the sword, leaving all to be well, and right again.

The Greens would die. They would face trial.

The Greens.

Indeed, word in Harrenhal spread fast. And she'd just been made the wife of the cruelest of them all.

Dread filled her insides. Her eyes cast their darkened shadow over the walls of the cursed Keep. A single, fundamental truth raised strongly from her anxious wallowing.

If Daemon Targaryen should find out about her marriage to his nephew, and get to her first… naught of the loyalty of the Riverlords would have a single say in her decided fate. And she would meet her end by the way of his blade, Dark Sister.

Now, more so than ever, it was pivotal for her to escape.

The clock was ticking.

And she was running out of time.

***

Her last day in Harrenhal was spent making plans. She'd rubbed her temples a myriad times, and paced about the room in a dizzying trot.

It wasn’t enough for her to disappear – she had to ensure everyone else thought she was gone.

When Aemond returned, she beckoned his call by jumping to her ready feet. The girl took him in, in his devillished state, and merely raised her brows at him. Whenever she saw him, the nick on her palm and lip itched at her relentlessly.

Neither was willing to recognize aloud what had transpired two moons ago, but both knew the inevitable punishment that would come with Aemond's actions.

He took a seat by the edge of their bed, and took his dagger out to play with it.

In vain he had asked Alys to share with him what she could see. She laid in broken, cradling her forming bump – the one she so desperately tried to hide away from him. The one thing that once meant her protection and raise in rank, now could very well heed out her doom.

Her green eyes raised from the floor below them, and Alys merely shook her head.

"There is fire, my Prince. Fire, and blood, and death."

"Going out to face two dragons is a death sentence." His deep voice rumbled through the silent chamber, "I can't afford that risk anymore with you involved."

And there it was. The silent admission of what he had done.

"We'll have to move from Harrenhal. You'll get to meet Daeron in Oldtown."

Was he sorry for what he did?

"It was about time you got acquainted with the rest of the family."

Aegon's cause was lucky that Storm's End was already too involved. They couldn't turn in their banners to the other front. Not now.

"It's a wonderful idea." She uttered in a glacial tone, barely above a whisper. "When will we depart?"

Sharpened orbs came in contact with the loneness of a purple eye.

The man took in a sparring breath, and hummed at her obedient retreat. The Prince's fist clenched over his cutting wound, and he nodded his head firmly.

"Should we be graced with the Gods' favor, issa jorrāelagon, then on the morrow," He explained, "but no sooner than that."

The girl's brows furrowed in discontent, as Aemond faltered in pressing the matter further. He rubbed the bridge of his nose with the aid of two long fingers, and heavily rose from his seat.

"Don't wait for me tonight. I shall return to you in the morning. I have unfinished business to attend to."

Lack of air. And crippling fear.

Her tiny world had been thrown into the arms of chaos. But everything fell so perfectly into place.

As soon as Aemond had mounted Vhagar, as soon as her father of wings died upon the night's first watch, the woman sprung to her feet, and began her soul's ascent into the pits of the Seven Hells.

She started off by breaking in her tiny mirror, placing a goose feather pillow below and over it, to somehow mask the clefty noise.

Her long hair was the first to go. She began cutting it swiftly, using big and brisk movements to chop off as many of her luscious locks as she possibly could.

She ripped the mattress of the bed open with one of the bigger shards, and revealed Aemond's dried-up shirt, that she had tucked well under after washing it, long preparing it for that occasion.

Her stomach churned as her hand went to her chamber pot. Risking her own deniability, she submerged her digits deep within it, letting out a victorious huff as she brushed across a piece of cold felt.

The insides of the sack revealed fermented meat – putrid, more like. She scattered the final remains of it over the stone floor like a mad-woman, and ripped the latter pages of the book Alys had gifted her.

She would take the passage to the stables, and simply hope for the best.

Her eyes searched feverishly about the cluttered room, but the hammering in her heart stilled only as she gaped upon the lower left corner of the wall full of banners.

There it was. Exactly where Alys told her it was going to be.

She tore into the mattress further, spreading the wool around, and grabbed a hold of a piece of wood from the crackling fire.

May she be forgiven for what she was about to do.

Her shaky hands grasped the lumber strongly, and she let it roll in the middle of the room, allowing it to fall with a loud bang.

***

The sound of wailing screams echoed inside her head, scratching at her ears, to the point of making them almost bleed. The heat of the fire she caused fell over her skimpily clothed back, and the disgust she felt with herself was palpable against her tongue.

With every turn she took, she made herself another promise. She would not rest until the war would see its end. She'd never sleep warmly again, and forever remind herself of the sacrifice she had to make – of all the lives that she undoubtedly ended, if only to meet her selfish ends.

For once, this was not just Aemond's doing. This was her fault all alone.

Blinded by rage, and seething with fury, her feet carried her down the crooked set of stairs. The woman brought a hand up to her face, and coughed wildly in the back of it. She'd have to make a bold turn soon. Then the outside world would heed, and she would be free again.

With just a twinge of luck, the guards should think that whatever was left of her room collapsed upon herself inside. Her burnt hair and clothes would create the wanted look – the meat would add the unmistakable smell of rot and death, and the lack of an actual body would take days to figure out.

And she prayed. She prayed, she prayed, she prayed: that no one else knew of the passages that she was threading through below.

Her eyes could barely see in front of her. Smoke rose to unforgiving levels, and the Lady swore it could be cut even by the dullest knife. As she reached the crossroads of the secret tunnel, her hands came to grapple at the breeches' pockets, turning them inside out – trying to find the torn pages of the book she'd just previously carried.

A sigh of relief rumbled from within her throat, as the pads of her shaking digits stroked across the withered, olden pages.

Her relief would be short lived.

Boney hands snaked around her, and the girl nearly screamed – until the familiar scent of mint and wild berries floored her senses.

"Alys?!" Her voice let out in an exasperated high. "Alys, we need to hurry!"

But her able hands still hesitantly clung to the soft material of her shirt, digging so deeply into it, that she could rip it in a downward pull.

"You –" She began to say, but cut herself short as she momentarily closed her eyes.

No matter what, she couldn’t tell the Lady before her that she'd have sent her upon her death.

"You took a wrong turn. This isn't the right way towards the South Gates."

The adrenaline flooded her veins. Her heart was pumping wildly against her ears. Lady Tully only nodded, failing to process that Alys had, in fact, never given her access to such an option on the crudely drawn map.

"This way, (Y/N) – came quickly!"

Two sets of legs descended further into the murky passages of Harrenhal. At one point, the smoke had gotten so very thick, that both women had to feel their way out, by touching the corners of every tunnel that they surpassed.

When all seemed lost, Alys finally spoke, "Over here!" She yelled out to her, and latched onto Aemond's dampened shirt.

They stumble into each other, as the small opening of the stifling cellar reaches the South Gates. The witch stops hastily on her heel, and the young Lady nearly busts their cover.

A raid of soldiers came flocking out, with what then looked like tens of thousands of squealing maids. So frightened by their own demise, they bumped into the oak doors and onto each other – choosing to, instead of unlocking the main Gates, reach and pull at the other's hairs, cursing loud and wildly.

Alys let out a bemused huff at their perused antics, but her reglament was short lived; as one of the smarter lassies reached for the illustrious piece of wood, and opened the doors with the loudest of creak.

"Now's our chance," The Lady of Riverrun whispered to her fellow escapee, grabbing onto her wrist harshly, and dragging her out and into the light. "Mingle in the crowd, Alys –"

"My Lady, do not stray far –"

The older woman let out a staggering breath, as she raised her skirts to follow suit on the trail left by the hot-headed girl.

She is Elmo's daughter alright, she disarmingly told herself, Just as hopeless and reckless as he once was.

Alys almost tackled her to the ground, as Lady Tully succumbed herself deeper into the burnt out forest. She gripped onto her hands with hers, so harshly, that she'd definitely leave her mark. "I thought I had told you not to stray far."

The breathless form of the lost child before her appeared to be enough to soften a tad of her resolve. "When I tell you something, I expect you to do it."

Whilst chastising her deeply for her foolhardy behavior, the woman searched her pockets, and pushed out two quarter silvers into her trembling hands.

"You'll go towards the Rushing Halls and buy yourself a mule from the Half Calf's Inn."

As the younger Lady nodded feverishly at her late advice, Alys clasped her cheeks with her hands, and brought her head further towards her. "You'll keep a straight line to the Green Fork. You won't stop to eat or drink – you won't stop until you reach Hag's Mire. Make sure to cover the cut on your hand with this." As she spoke, Alys pushed a black glove into her resting hands.

The Bliss of Riverrun threw the witch a bewildered look. Her eyes searched adamantly for hers, and the woman panted out in pure wonder. "How did you know I intended on migrating North?

"I've already seen you do it." She shook her shoulders promptly, "I've already seen you succeed."

Her green eyes softened, if only for a blazing moment; but the crackling of the trees behind them snapped her out of her inward trance. "Don't waste anymore time. Your diversion was smart, but he will try to find you."

The girl reached down, to squeeze her hands, perhaps, in a wordless display of gratitude and affection. Her soft fingers interlaced over her boney knuckles, and Alys muttered a faint blessing over the twisted arch of her furrowed brow.

The Lady turned around, but not before pausing and shooting the witch one last fiery look. "Come with me." She offered determinedly, and shook her head strongly as Alys took a step back. "He'll try to punish someone for it. You're his next available girl." She begged her to see to reason.

"My place remains here. By his side."

(Y/N)'s eyes hardened at her thorough admission, but she strained herself to shoot the wet nurse back with a curt nod.

"I shan't forget what you did for me." She promised her elder with a minute smile.

"A heads-up when you next decide to set the whole stronghold on fire would be most appreciated…!" She lightheartedly told her, despite the obvious wabbling of her lower lip.

(Y/N) nodded, but remained hammered in place for another while. Alys' hand reached to cup over her face, but a brisk moment of clarity was quick to change her mind.

"Go, you foolish girl…!" She snapped, "Make good use of that promise you made."

Her feet began moving on their own accord. Her mind was blazing with all of the unfinished tasks at hand.

She would run towards the Rushing Halls. Buy a mule. Retreat towards Green Fork. Reach the Twins.

Her road shall lead to Winterfell. If Forrest Fray remained the same kind fool that he once was, she should have no trouble sending Cregan Stark a raven.

And if she could reason with Jacaerys' friend, take in his testimony of protection, perhaps her life wasn't lost just yet.

The gusts of wind ran through her shortened and unkempt hair. Aemond's clothes hung loosely over her, and the stench of fire and ash filled her nostrils with something else other than hopeless dread.

Never before in her life, did the girl run so fast.

Taglist:

Translations:

Gevie… = Beautiful;

Gaomagon daor sagon zūgagon, issa dōna jorrāelagon. Nyke kivio ao naejot sagon gīda. = Do not worry, my sweet love. I promised you I would be patient;

Mēre tubis ao jāhor jaelagon issa. = One day you will desire me;

Se Jaes emagon qrimbrōstan issa naejot jorrāelagon ao. = The Gods have cursed me to love you;

Gīda ilagon, Vhagar. Sagon nykeēdrosa... Sȳz hāedar. = Calm down, Vagar. Be still. Good girl;

Jaes, ao istan vēttan syt issa. = Gods, you were made for me;

Sepār jurnegon skorkydoso īlon kostagon fāelor hēnkirī. = Just look how perfectly we fit together;

Dōna hāedar… ȳdra daor hakogon qrīdrughagon hen issa sir = Sweet girl… don't pull away from me now;

Yn nyke istan zarvīzis. Nyke emagon issare sīr sȳz se… sīr, sīr zarvīzis. = But I've been patient. I've been so good and… so, so patient;

Ao aehron raqagon ao ȳdra daor jaelagon bisa... = You act like you don't want this…;

Yn ao jaelagon issa sepār hae olvie. Ao mazilībagon syt issa – sepār hae qosaevaerī. = But you want me just as much. You ache for me – just as badly.

Ÿdra daor dīnagon, issa gevie Dāria. Nyke jāhor dōrī jaelagon naejot ōdrikagon. = Don't cry, my beautiful Princess. I would sooner die than hurt you;

Valyrian Wedding Vows: Blood of two, joined as one, ghostly flame, and song of shadows, two hearts as embers, forged in fourteen fires, a future promised in glass – the stars stand witness, of the vow spoken through time, of darkness and light;

Nyke gīmigon, Vhagar. Gīmigon. = I know Vhagar, I know;

Se Jaes daoriot rȳbagon naejot nykeā vala raqagon issa. Yn nyke jāhor jikagon va issa knees se kostilus zirȳla naejot ivestragī issa emagon ao. Ao issi issa rōva botagon se se olvie rivaestra lambraes aohvra. = The Gods don't listen to men like me. But I would go on my knees and beg them to let me keep you. You were once the bane of my existence… and now, you find yourself the center of it.

#aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #the harshest winters #aemond imagine #aemond fanfiction #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys strong #house of the dragon #jacaerys valaryon #jacaerys imagine #jacaerys angst #aemond smut #bookcanon aemond targaryen #dark aemond x reader #dark aemond targaryen #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #yandere aegon targaryen #unhinged aemond yep yep

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its-vannah · 1 year

Text

Labyrinth | Jacaerys x Reader

A/N: This was so fun to write, y'all.

Warning: Death, arranged marriage, age gap, mentions of marrying young

Midnights Masterlist

You had spent nearly your whole life betrothed to Cregan Stark. Although he was quite a bit older than you—nearly seven years—your parents had agreed that it would be a good match.

Throughout the years, you had felt a sense of comfort in knowing what your future held. You were to be wed at seventeen, something your parents had insisted on as it was neither too young nor too old, with child before your twentieth name day, and a respected Lady of the House of Stark.

I'll be getting over you my whole life

But that all came crashing down when Cregan was killed in battle. For the first time in over a decade, you felt a sense of instability.

"It only hurts this much right now"

Naturally, your family still wanted you married off. After searching for and wide for a suitor, they settled on someone you never would have expected: Jacaerys Velaryon.

It only feels this raw right now

But you were devastated. You had grown to see Cregan as a friend. Although you hadn't been in love with one another, you felt comfortable in each other's presence, which was something not many Lord's and Ladies could say about one another.

That everybody just expects me to bounce back

On the way to Dragonstone, your mother had warned you not to dwell on things you couldn't change. Your heart broke at her words. You loved Cregan, couldn't she see that you were grieving?

Never trust it if it rises fast

Not daring to respond to her comments, you turned away from her, gazing out the carriage as you neared the castle.

Breathe in, breathe through, breathe deep, breathe out

The closer the carriage came to the castle, the more your heart began to pound in your chest. What if the prince wasn't looking for a wife? Would he even acknowledge your presence? What is he like? Is he kind of cruel?

All of these questions raced through your head as the carriage doors swung open.

The man who had opened the doors held out his hand to you, which you took gratefully as you climbed down the stairs.

Finally meeting the man's eyes, realization hit you: this wasn't a commoner, this was the prince.

He smiled gently at you, your hand still in his. Bowing, he pressed a kiss to the top of your hand, gazing up at you, "It's a pleasure to meet you, my Lady."

Was what I was thinking the whole time

As much as you hated yourself for it, grief practically went out the window at that moment. The kids he had placed upon your hand ignited a spark deep inside you. Never in your life had you felt the way you did in that moment.

Lost in a trance, you only snapped back to reality when he released your hand, introducing himself to your mother.

Still in a state of shock, you took a deep breath, looking around the courtyard.

It can't last

You could get used to this. But your mind was telling you it wouldn't last.

-------------------------------

Queen Rhaenyra walked side by side with you in the gardens, a gentle smile on her face as you passed by countless rose bushes.

"Tell me, Lady Y/N, were you close with Lord Stark?" She asked, putting a sympathetic hand on your back.

You sighed, "We had become friends over the years, and I knew him well. I miss him greatly, but I wasn't..."

Trailing off, you remembered that she never asked you whether or not you loved him. So you refrained from sharing that bit.

"Wasn't...?" The Queen asked, "Did you love him?"

You know how much I hate

Damnit.

Shaking your head, you met her blue eyes, "No, my Queen, I don't believe I did. Not in the way a woman should love her husband. But as a friend."

She nodded, "I believe you'll find happiness with my son. Jace was good friends with Cregan, as well, so this hasn't been easy for him. But before Lord Stark passed, Jace promised him that he'd take care of you."

Just like that

Your head snapped towards her, "Why in Westeros would he do that?"

Rhaenyra laughed at your sudden curiosity, "My son is a man of duty and honor. He cares deeply for those around him, and he wanted to ensure that you would be taken care of, as he promised his old friend. He didn't want you married off to the next man offered his hand."

Lost in the labyrinth of my mind

Your head was spinning. Had he really done all of this to ensure that you wouldn't be married off to man who could care less about you, only your ability to provide heirs.

Reading your silence, a small smile spread on the Queen's lips, "I'm rather tired, Lady Y/N. I believe Jace is in the study I'd you'd like a word with him. I have some manners to attend to."

Patting your back once more, she turned and walked away.

You were beginning to like Dragonstone—but once again, your head warned you against getting attached.

-------------------------------

Walking past two guards standing on opposite sides of the door, you cleared your throat when entering the study, "Pardon, Prince Jacaerys, but do you have a moment?"

The young prince turned towards you, the soft light from the window shining down on his face.

Smiling, he took a few steps towards you before sitting on the edge of his desk, "What can I do for you, my Lady?"

"I wanted to thank you."

He raised a brow, "For?"

How'd you turn it right around?

"The Queen told me of the measures you took to ensure I wouldn't be married off to someone who wouldn't provide or care for me," You explained, "It touched me to know that someone cared about my well being despite never having met me."

You would break your back to make me break a smile

"Well," He said, clearing his throat, "I know you now."

Crossing the room to stand beside you, you placed a hand atop his, "Really, my Prince, thank you. For everything."

He smiled down at you, "It was the honorable thing to do. And I stand by my choice. But I can't help but say I'm surprised."

"Surprised? By what?"

Jace bit down on his lips, "Cregan never told me how beautiful you were. How kind, observant."

Uh-oh, I'm falling in love

Heat spread across your cheeks at his comments, "I thank you, Prince Jacaerys."

Oh no, I'm falling in love again

"Call me Jace, please, we'll be wed soon enough."

Oh, I'm falling in love

A smile on your face, you nodded, "Thank you, Jace."

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nightskyslayer2 · 1 year

Text

Aegon x sister!wife!reader x Jacaerys SMUT

Part II (Part I)

Aegons right palm rested on the tree near y/ns face and his left one held up the skirt of her dress, resting on her back and yanking her even closer by the hips. His smirk never left his lips, he was eagerly looking down at his sisters bare ass and chuckled. “No panties huh?…” he pushed his torso into her so she could feel his precum leaking boner pressed against her bare cunt. Both of them moaned out loud at the touch, y/n desperately pushing up against him in need. In response to that Aegon just chuckled again. “Oh look at yourself y/n…” he smiled and took a grip of her white hair again, pulling her upper body closer to his. “You’re mine.” Her brother claimed and spat on her cheek, his drool running now her jaw and one of his hands resting on her belly form behind now. “…all mine” he whispered again and guided his cock through her wetness while moaning into her neck.

Y/n couldn’t even say a word, she was so overwhelmed and aroused, if her brother hadn’t held her in place she would’ve passed out. Aegon was now ramming his cock into y/n forcefully, he was so rough with her, she even was struggling to keep her eyes open. Hot tears were rolling down her cheek in need as her nails were violently digging into the bark of the tree, trying to stay steady and upright. Both of them were a moaning mess but when the young princess had gathered enough will to keep her eyes fully open for a moment, intentionally wanting to look back at her husband, she saw what her eyes couldn’t believe in a million years.

“Aegon!…” she tried to collect herself and get her husband to stop or slow down but it wasn’t quiet working. “Aegon!” She alerted again and reached behin her to rapidly tap on her brother to get his attention. “Aegon, Jacaerys is watching…” she finally managed to say between shaking moans.

Jacaerys initially wanted to go look for the couple, as Viserys had asked for them but what the young prince had found wasn’t quite what he expected to see. He was standing a few trees away from them, probably been standing there for a good minute. He was unbelievably ashamed but he couldn’t bring himself to leave nor look away. His hand was gently palming his boner over his trousers as he watched them in aze. The moans coming from y/ns mouth were pure heaven to him, intoxicating his state and making him wish he would be the cause of them.

But when y/n looked over and spottet him jace got quite scared and instantly paralysed. What the heck was he doing? They had eye contact for a few seconds, before Aegon finally left his rage trance as he had realised y/n was alerting him and especially said their nephews name.

Aegons pace slowed and his head shot to the right, where y/ns head was directed at. When he saw the pathetic Jacaerys standing there and where his hand was placed he couldn’t prevent his laugh, now only gently pushing his cock in his wife while yelling over at Jacaerys. “Enjoying yourself nephew?!” he laughed again and waved him over, wanting him to come closer and get a better view. “You’re already in big trouble Jace, might as well make the most of it huh?”

Jacaerys hesitantly made his way near them and stopped at the three next to the couple, still a good arm length away. Aegon grinned and leaned in to y/ns ear. “I’m going to breed you over and over again, may this make Jacaerys stop it if he finally sees your swollen belly and cock drunk face” Aegon grunted as he abruptly started to fuck y/n harder against the tree again, now that Jacaerys was closer. The white haired princess gasped at her brothers sudden actions and tightly gripped a part of the trunk, filthy moans escaping her mouth as she still looked intensely at the blushing Jacaerys.

Her eyes squeezed shut for a brief moment as her brother let out this rage on her. Aegon grinned while being out of breath, looking down, watching his cock disappear in his sister over and over again. “No matter how often I fuck her- she’s always so fucking tight and narrow for me” he grabbed jace by his short hair and pulled him down to where his wetness covered cock met y/ns cunt. Aegon laughed under his unsteady breathing when Jacaerys let out a whine. “You want her don’t you? You’re desperately touching yourself at the thought of her every night aren’t you?” Jace felt so embarrassed yet so incredibly horny as he and y/n still held eye contact. “Every fucking inch of her belongs to me Jacaerys.”

Aegon growled and stopped his movement, making y/n whine and cry out at the loss of friction between her legs. “Look at her. She’s so needy for me.” The older Targaryen bit his lip hard and kneaded her ass with his rough hands. Then his face lit up in mischief.

“Fuck yourself onto me sister, and suck Jaces fingers.” The princess didn’t even need a second, she immediately started to rock forwards and backwards fucking herself on her brothers cock and slowly looking up at Jacaerys again, waiting for whatever he chose to do next.

Jace was beyond aroused because of the action happening in front of him and yet super scared because of Aegons behaviour. Y/n being so incredibly eager for pleasure and behaving like a fucking whore for Aegon made him question if he’d ever be able get over her now. Jace hesitantly lifted his left hand, reaching for his aunt in the most erotic disbelief. His hand was shaking so much, but the intense eye contact with y/n made him forget about Aegon every now and then. Y/n then gently placed her hand around his wrist and brought his fingers to her mouth herself. Jace almost came instantly as soon as he felt her wet muscle gliding around his digits. He moaned, looking down into y/n lilac orbs, his free hand now found its way into his trousers.

Aegon bit his lip, he loved his wife eagerness but he couldn’t stand her slow pace anymore so he grabbed her by the hips and took over again. He hit her left cheek, leaving a burning red spot he grinned down at. Then for the first time he had looked over at Jacaerys, the boy clearly enjoying is as much as the two did. “You see Jace. This is all you’ll ever get. You may watch us in the shadow but y/n is mine. She’s always been and she’ll always be.” Jacaerys slowly looked over at him too, the young men now facing each other. Jace was still a flustered mess, mouth still open and whimpers coming out of it every now and then. Aegon just smirked in triumph. “She’s all mine.”

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen smut #aegon ii targaryen x you #aegon imagine #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x you #hotd aegon #house of the dragon #aegon targaryen x reader smut #Aegon II targaryen smut #hotd jacaerys #jacaerys strong x reader #jacaerys valaryon x reader #jacaerys valaryon x you #jacaerys velaryon #Jacaerys Velaryon x reader smut #jacaerys valaryon smut

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amisa-k · 8 months

Text

how would the characters of the “house of the dragon” react to the fact that someone offended you

alicent

she will not hesitate to use her influence as a queen to send this person out of court.

daemon

that person is already dead.

rhaenyra

will also use her influence, perhaps ask for help from viserys so that the offender is punished as severely as possible.

aegon

enter into a verbal confrontation with the one who offended you and make fun of him publicly.

aemond

will kill him long and painfully.

jacaerys

will stand up for you and use physical force if necessary.

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sapphire-writes · 10 months

Text

Sweet Fruit masterlist

pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon & Snow!Reader

rating: mature/explicit/18+

summary: As Jacaerys travels to Winterfell to obtain the support of the North, he becomes enamored with Cregan Stark's bastard sister.

status: complete (4/4)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

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ethereallocs · 11 months

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Let Me Show You-Jacaerys Velaryon x Targaryen!Reader Cousin

This is based on an anonymous request…

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Targaryen Reader! Cousin

Content/Warning: !!🔞 PLUS ONLY!!, Smut, slight femme dom action,Incest, p in v penetration, masturbation, blow job, fingering, and choking.Characters have been aged up.

Summary: A rainy day in a quiet a library can lead to a lot of mischief…

As children you and Jace were always very close and now that your mother and father, Rhaenyra and Daemon had married it only made the two of you closer. The two of you were either seen together often either sitting under the Godswood whilst you ready to him, or sparring one another and in most cases you bested him. Now the two of you were betrothed and there couldn’t be a better match.

You weren’t what the realm would call a maiden. If you were being honest your maidenhood had been gone for quite sometime now and your curiosities about your soon to be husband often kept you up at night. You would find yourself coming undone when your fingers would find there way to your heated and soaking core. Today it was a gloomy day and you and Jace decided to take each others company within the library. And this would be the day you would find out what your sweet cousin was capable of.

“Dubazma?” “Cousin?” , you spoke in a sing-song almost teasing tone trying to gain Jacaerys’s attention. You knew he didn’t understand much of the old language but he looked up and smiled at you boyishly. “Yes, Y/N?” The question that was ready to leave your lips was rather blunt, but it had to be asked. “Have you bedded a woman, Jace?” His cheeks flushed in embarrassment and he wasn’t too sure how to respond, since he had not bedded any woman for the matter. “Oh, you haven’t. Jace you’re still a virgin…?”

Your tone mocking him, but you also found it rather cute. The innocence he still held within his eyes. Biting into the lush flesh of your bottom lip, the many ways you could corrupt him simmering in her mind. “Have you every thought about it, Dubazma?” You giggled mischievously walking around to his side of the table letting your fingers dance along the smooth surface on your way to him, wrapping your arms about him, your hand rubbing along the fabric that covered his chest. “I..I do not know what you mean, cousin.” He trembled from your touch. His cock hardened instantly, threatening to peek through the fabric of his pants.

“Don’t play coy, cousin. I’m sure you do…you are a man..are you not, Jacaerys?” You whispered the warmth of your breath hitting his skin caused a shiver to go down his spine. “Yes, Y/N I am.” His breath hitching in his throat, feeling your breasts pressing against his back. “So I’m sure you think about a beautiful maiden coming undone on your cock. Yes? And I know you must touch yourself.” You were a little nymph causing chaos. Running your fingers across the part of his pants where a slight pique was seen. His body tensed, the heat within his stomach growing hotter with every touch from you.

You reveled in how nervous you made him. Your soft lips laying chaste kisses on his neck. The hand that teased his pulsing member quickly found it’s way within his pants feeling the warmth and girth of his cock. Your cunt was already dripping from your own arousal, your thighs rubbing together to relieve the ache. “Y/N…this isn’t a good idea..what if we’re seen? You giggled, “They’d have to marry us on the morrow I suppose.”

Squeezing his cock a moan came from you both and the desire within you had to be satiated. Removing your hand you ducked underneath the table quickly freeing the throbbing beast from its cage. Even with you feeling him you couldn’t have imagined how well endowed he was. You licked your lips and smiled up at him while he watched in complete silence. He was in awe and just how naughty you were and how turned on he was by it. “Please, let me show you, ñuha zaldrīzes.” “my dragon.”

Your tongue licked from the base to the tip of his cockhead. He watched you in amazement, feeling nothing but pleasure radiating through him. You smile up at him slowly taking the entire length into your mouth and down your throat barely gagging. “Oh Gods…”, he groaned his head leaned back and his jaw slacked. You watched him underneath hooded eyes filled with lust.

You moaned at the taste of him, while your fingers found your clit rubbing slow intense circles around it. Your juices dripping down your inner thighs. He writhed within his seat keeping his hands to his sides barely keeping himself together. You smirked to yourself and pulled away not wanting him to explode just yet. Getting up you sat on the wooden table hiking up your skirts so your bare ass rested against the smooth surface. Legs wide you exposed your needy cunt to him.

“Do you want to try something for me, my love?” He was too busy staring at that pretty little cunny of yours to hear so you grabbed his chin making him look at you. “Y…yes.” He responded before you crashed your lips into his. The kiss was a mess it seemed to be his first you thought. Teeth clashing, lips desperately trying to find one another he couldn’t hold back anymore and grabbed your waist pulling you in closer.

You pulled away and he followed wanting your lips against his again. “Can you lick me too, my Prince?” You mused leaning back slightly on your hands. He but his lip hungrily. “Yes, but I’m afraid I won’t be any good at it.” You giggled and leaned forward kissing him again before leaning back. “That’s alright, I’ll teach you.”

He pulled you in your ass now on the very edge your legs resting over his shoulders while he was underneath the skirts of your dress. He inhaled your scent and growled lowly and how your smell enticed him so. “So first…open up my cunny and you should see a small bud.” He did as he was told and quickly found what she was describing brushing a finger past it slightly causing her to jump. “Yes, that’s it. So your going to lick that with your tongue, not to rough or too soft. But, with enough pressure that it feels just right.” He hesitated but did as she said, cooing from the taste of her only stopping to be reassured that he was pleasing her.

Her hand reached to run through his short brown locks and he continued his sweet assault on her clit. Her hips bucking into him every now and then making his nose hit her sensitive bundle of nerves almost sending her over the edge. “You’re doing so good…” You can barely get your words out and with your reactions, Jacaerys is growing more and more confident. He begins to take control lapping and sucking vigorously. Your back arches from the immense pleasure you were feeling.

“Oh Gods..yes…yes..” Your almost there ready to come undone on his tongue at any second and then he stopped causing you to chase after that high that was slowly leaving you. He peeked from your dress standing to show he throbbing cock. Which looked rather painful with how aroused he was. He looked at you his eyes begging for relief from this torment and you knew exactly how.

Grabbing his cock you led him to your entrance. Lining him up with you properly your violet eyes stayed on his and in an instant it’s like something clicked within him and he knew. His hips bucked forward slowly pushing himself into you. The stretch was different than what you experienced before, but the way he filled you up was amazing. Your back arched and his wrapped his arms around your waist feeling your slick walls taut around him.

After letting himself and you get use to one another he began pumping into. His cock reaching places you didn’t even know existed. “Oh..fuck, Jacaerys.” You tried your best to stay quiet in this library, but it was impossible. Your sighs and cries of passion echoed about the walls and anyone nearby could definitely hear you. Is this what he was missing? He thought to himself, burying his face into your neck. His teeth sinking into your flesh while his hands grabbed onto the soft plush flesh of your ass.

He growled like an animal taking what was his and you had no idea he had it in him. He was usually so sweet, but right now he was giving you exactly what you wanted. You could feel yourself getting close to your pique again and he hesitated knowing his climax was soon approaching as well, but he pressed on kissing you desperately moaning and growling into your mouth in excitement. “Mmm..please keep going..I-I’m going to come…”

Burying his face into your chest his moans grew louder and his pace picked up until your slick painted his cock causing him to spill his seed inside of you. Stream after stream of his seed filled your womb and you sighed in relief. He panted heavily kissing your lips, face and neck. Wanting to do it again, but the giggles of hand maidens quickly brought the two of you out of your orgasmic haze. “I think that wedding might be coming sooner than we expected, ñuha zaldrīzes.”

To be continued?…

I hope you all enjoyed!!!! It’s supposed to be a one shot, but if you’d like me to continue let me know in the comments. 💙

#jacaerys x you #jacaerys valaryon x reader #prince jacaerys #jacaerys strong #jacaerys fic #jacaerys smut #hotd jacaerys #fic rec #hotd fanfic

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beary-rambles · 1 year

Text

Flowers | The Series | Chapter One | Introductions

Summary | As a lady from a very minor house you are very displeased to be journeying so far away from home for a boring trip. but your first morning tells you this trip is going to much more interesting than you thought.

Pairing | Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem!Reader

Warning’s | Avoiding the use of y/n like a plague, Aegon being an asshole (what's new), not proofread, basically a big set up chapter with more exciting things to happen later on ;). Probably ooc characters as i haven't even finished watching the show yet LOL

Word count | 2k

series masterlist

Any house is free to join House Targaryen for Jacaerys bridal choosing celebration starting on the first day of the next moon cycle these festivities will last-

You can't be bothered to remember the rest of the dreaded letter your family had received along with the rest of the seven kingdoms. Yet another bump in the road brings yet another sigh to rise from your throat. “I don’t see the point in this mother.” Your mother scoffs as she continues to stare out the window, “we are a minor house with little funds, little land and nothing to offer. I must ask once again… why we are wasting our time with this.” The words you speak are true, House dunn a minor house from the reach had barely anything to offer anyone especially not the heir to the iron throne. Your mother turns to you with a glare, “Do not speak about our house like that.” the look on your face makes your mother sigh and soften her face, “look, sweetheart, maybe we can’t impress the prince but there will be numerous other lords there for you to impress, either way i have a feeling we will come out of this moon cycle with your betrothal set.”

You throw your head back with a groan, “Why must i be betrothed now i am still young-” Your mothers face turned back into her hardened glare to which you turned to your father who sat next to her, staring out the window. “Father” he sighs, “you must make her see reason there is no point in this-” “there is no arguing with your mother you know this better than i.” with a sigh of defeat you lean back in your seat as your mother thanks her husband.

Kings Landing is within sight now as you turn back to look out the window, the place you’ll sit and watch as all the young (and even old) women of the court throw themselves at the young prince ‘we’re not even there yet and i cannot wait to go home’

The carriage stops suddenly causing you to still up. Your father sticks his head out of the window, “what's happened?” “A tree is blocking the path lord… I do not believe I can move it.” Curious, you move to look out the other window and see a rather large tree blocking the path and the surrounding area. Your father groans before he answers, “Is there another path we can take?” “Of course sir but it would take much longer to see it-” you turn to your mother with a small grin who gives you a pointed look, “See mother this is a sign from the gods that we should not be here!” She glares and sticks her head out the window, “Take the other path and take it now before we miss the opening introduction.” Defeated you fall back as the carriage begins to move once more.

The throne is cold, colder than expected. With each fake smile and extravagant gift accepted, Jacaerys could feel the chair poking him as if to tell him his false actions and words are not appreciated. His lips are almost sore from the amount of hands he’s had to kiss, his cheeks hurt from the fake smile that has sat on his face, He could even argue that his eyes hurt from having to watch as these ladies try their best to impress him and the angry looks from their mothers or the pointed looks from their fathers that turned into large and proud smiles had the prince turned in their direction ‘when will this end? How did mother do something this humiliating for months?’ He remembers when his mother proposed (more like insisting) this event in Jacaerys honor. The council quickly approved as they felt Jace was old enough to marry and it would show the strength and unity of the realm if they all gathered for a ceremony like this. He remembers when the rest of the family was told, “So he’s going to be paraded around the keep like a prized pig.” Aegon giggles and receives a sharp look from his mother. His brothers weren't any better, Luke especially teased his brother as Joffrey laughed along. “The festivities should be fun, it’ll be nice to see them keep so lively.” Jacaerys gives Helaena an appreciative smile, she is able to tell he is beginning to feel upset.

This morning in his room as the servants were finishing up with getting him ready for today his mother had come into the room and shooed away the servants who bowed as they left, “your grace.” “there's no need for that jacaerys im your mother.” She walks over to him as he looks in the mirror, she puts her hands on his shoulders. “I had to do something similar as a younger lady.” Rhaenyra starts, she moves her hands to the top of his head gently stroking it, “You’re lucky I had to leave home for a couple of months.” She says with a grin as she tries to joke with him but with his shoulders tensing up and his face hardening she can tell he did not take it that way. “I will not let you down your grace.” she sighs as she turns him towards her, puts her hands back on his shoulders. “Jace.” she says and his face softens, “Relax.” He sighs as he looks down, not being able to look at his mother, his queen, the women he is supposed to follow in the footsteps of, in the face. “I Just don’t want to let you down.” She grabs his face softly and makes him look at her in the eyes, “there’s nothing you could do to let me down my sweet, all you need to do is face the day my son.”

He closes his eyes and relaxes once more as his mothers words ring in his head, ‘relax’ “i believe that's everyone my prince.” a genuine smile finds its way onto his face as he stands to address the crowd. He scans the crowd as he thinks ‘no one was memorable, they have three daughter i only remember two, was she always wearing that dress i thought it was blue no maybe i'm mixing her up with someone else’ He stops his own thoughts with a clap of his hands and everyone turns to look at him, “I thank everyone who has come today with my greatest appreciation, i hope everyone enjoys these festivities-” his speech was interrupted with a band as the doors shot open.

“I cannot believe we’ve almost missed it!” your mother says as she pulls your arm through the halls quickly following the guard leading them there, “you’re hurting me-” “oh shush and hurry.” “I am hurrying.” You grumble but shut up as your other arm is holding a heavy book knowing you're unable to stop her. With another tug at your arm from your mother as her feet quicken as you race through the large halls. Your father follows closely behind with a thoughtful look on his face and his arms full of a rather large bouquet of flowers, though you’re unable to ask as you arrive at the main hall, your mother turns to you and fixes your hair lightly and your father hands you the large bouquet and the door opens with a large bang. All the heads whip back towards you and you feel your skin burn from all the stares. “It seems we’re rather late.” your father mumbles and receives a quick slap to the arm from your mother as she smiles at the crowd.

“House Dunn my prince there was an incident on the road.” Your father smiles at the guard as your mother pushes you forward, “you first.” she mumbles in your ear as you walk forward with your head down. The eye’s continue to follow as you make your way to the front of the room before the throne. “Your grace.” your father says as you all bow. “We are so sorry for the late arrival-” your father continues but you aren't listening to him you can't not when you can hear the people around you. “Is she really wearing that?” “house dunn? I've never heard of such a house” “why would you bring the crowned prince a book of all things? It looks old even how terrible " "I bet they can’t afford anything better.” “flowers? Why would anyone bring a boy flowers?” The skin on your body suddenly feels hot, your face burns and the dress you wear feels tight. You want to leave. You’re brought back by your mother taping you on the back, “My daughter,” Your father presents you. Dreadfully, you lift your head to face the prince. You give you a curious look as you bow down once more, “your grace.”

He walks down the steps before the guard next to him can stop him and takes the book from your hands. “Might I ask you what this book is about, My lady?” Your face continues to burn as he inspects it. The words of the people in the room ring around in your head. “It's an old history book, your grace.” The whispers start once more as you continue but his eyes remain locked on you, “I got it during my time in Pentos, the shopkeeper said it contains history that remains unwritten in many of the texts of westeros. I've read it numerous times in a fascinating read-'' The words you say suddenly sound ridiculous to you and you stop, “Many apologies for your grace.” A larger smile graces his face if you were anyone else you would believe to be genuine. “There is nothing to apologize for I am sure I shall enjoy reading it as well.” you cannot meet his eyes as he passes off the book to one of the guards and eye’s the flowers in your hands. “I assume these are for me as well.” He sounds assumed and takes them from you before you could let out a quiet yes.

“They are White Clovers, your grace.” You say before he can ask, “ These grow on the outskirts of our lands. Every flower has a meaning. I picked these myself specifically for today…” Before you can blurt out more your mother pinches you on the arm. You can hear the quiet gasps of the women around you. ‘She picked them herself, how barbaric.’ Your skin is starting to hurt from how much it is burning, resisting the urge to run out of the room you take a small step back. His look turns thoughtful as he continues to stare, “and what does this mean?” he fills in the gap you left with a small step forward of his own. “Remembrance, I hope you shall remember me, my prince.” Your voice is small as you watch him give off the flowers and lift your hand to grace it with a kiss. “I shall, my lady.”

You finally meet his eyes in shock, you lose your voice for a second as you look into his mesmerizing eyes you feel as though you could get lost in them, the brown of his eyes captivates. You take in the rest of his face as well, he is much more handsome than you expected, the type of handsome you will never forget. The smile his face holds makes him look even better, he looks like a prince from the storybooks you read as a younger girl. You feel envious of the women who he will choose as she will get to wake up and stare at his face for as long as she shall wish.

He smiles at you once more before he turns to your father, “Thank you for coming.” Your father smiles and says some more but you cannot wait. You rush a bow and move quickly to the back of the room; the eyes are still following you; it feels like an itch that you cannot scratch. Jacaerys closes out the ceremony but you cannot be bothered to pay attention to his words as all you want to do is to leave once he closes out and he moves to leave you rush to leave but cannot help but take one more glance at the prince, out of the corner of your eye you swear you saw him take a look at you as well.

------

a/n: I wanted to make this gn! Reader but i felt like fem reader made more sense sorry :( I chose house Dunn for the house as it has no prominent figures yet has a signet so you can feel free to insert whoever you want! still a little rusty from not having written in forever so sorry in advance. For some clarity I'm basically going off the fact that Otto doesn't succeed and Rhaenyra is named queen, everyone lives in the keep and are happy and alive . Also Baela is never betrothed to Jace but Rhaena and Luke are betrothed! Aemond and Helaena are married instead because Aegon doesn't deserve her.

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