aeralux

[aeralux]

"Take a Bite" - Jacaerys Velaryon

𝐍𝐞𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐰!𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐬 𝐱 𝐀𝐮𝐧𝐭!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Jacaerys gets fed up with his aunts' degrading words and insatiable appetite.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT 18+; reader being mean; Jacaerys also being mean; spanking; a little bit of degrading; reader getting what she asked for

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 4.7k

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: Reader is Alicent's and Viserys' eldest daughter. No description of the reader except that she has white hair. If you do not feel comfortable with the warnings, do not read. And if you do, I am not responsible for the media you consume. Thank you.

You were never considered a nice girl; the entire realm could vouch for that. As the eldest daughter of King Viserys and Queen Alicent, it felt like your sister Helaena received all the warmth and kindness.

At the same time, you were left with a different gift: the power to bend any man to his knees with just a flick of your hand.

This included your sweet nephew Jacaerys. With his gentle, brown doe-like eyes, he seemed like the embodiment of innocence. How could someone like him ever make you feel truly good when you were so accustomed to the rough, more thrilling caresses of your twin, Aemond, who approached everything with an intensity that was hard to resist?

Yet, despite all of this, you couldn't resist when your father, the king, decreed that you would be betrothed to Jacaerys. It was his weak attempt to heal the fractures in the family, binding you to a kind boy in hopes of mending whatever was broken.

Jacaerys was a sweet young man; that much was obvious. But he was perhaps a bit too sweet for your taste. His gentle touches barely grazed your skin, and his reverent kisses felt more like whispered secrets than passionate exchanges. At first, you tried to appreciate his tenderness, but it didn't take long for him to wear thin. 

You found yourself yearning for something more. Your new husband didn't fulfil the deeper desires you held within, leaving you at times longing for your twin. Aemond had a way of leaving you breathless, trembling, and utterly lost after each encounter. That was what you craved.

Jacaerys shuddered as he felt your cunt clench and ripple around his spent shaft, milking the last drops of his release from his softening length. The sensation of his thick, hot seed flooding your depths sent a dark thrill of satisfaction through him. But as he slipped out of your tender, abused flesh with a gush of your combined essence, a flicker of doubt and uncertainty crept into his lust-addled mind.

He narrowed his eyes as you looked up at him with that maddeningly coy smirk, your hooded gaze and teasing words stoking the embers of his pride and ambition. Jacaerys was the prince, the heir to the Iron Throne, and yet here you were, questioning his prowess, his ability to satisfy a woman as experienced and insatiable as you.

Jacaerys' jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek as he leaned down to capture your lips in a brutal, demanding kiss. He plundered your mouth, his tongue sweeping in to claim and conquer as his hands gripped your thighs, pushing them wider, baring your dripping, well-used cunt to his hungry gaze.

"Is that all you can manage?" you hissed, your voice dripping with mocking amusement as you let your fingers dance teasingly through the sticky essence dripping from your cunt. Your eyes gleamed with challenge as you arched a brow. "A quick fuck and a whining mess, that's what you are. I've had stable-boys fuck me better than this... You should bury your face between my thighs. At least try to make me feel good, yeah?"

You licked your lush, kiss-swollen lips slowly, deliberately, as your other hand drifted down to spread your glistening folds open, putting your cunt on full display. "Is that what you crave? To taste the proof of your momentary conquest, hmm?"

"Come now, Jacaerys," you whispered, your voice a provocative murmur, "Prove to me that you truly deserve the title of prince and lover. Spread me wide and make me actually cum."

Jacaerys shuddered, his eyes flashing with a mix of lust, pride and anger as he gazed down at your dripping, glistening folds, your mean words stoking the flames of his desire. Your teasing, mocking tone and provocative display of your cunt sent a surge of need crashing through him. He had had enough of your demeaning words and ridicule.

With a low growl, Jacaerys released your thighs and grabbed your hips, flipping you over onto your stomach in one swift, decisive motion. He pushed a pillow underneath your hips, lifting your ass up and presenting your dripping cunt to him like an offering.

"Fuck, look at this greedy little fuckhole, so hungry and desperate for more," Jacaerys snarled, his voice rough with desire as he nudged your thighs further apart with his own. He leaned down, his breath hot against your slick folds as he inhaled the heady scent of your arousal and the musky essence of his own release.

"Jacaerys! How dare you treat your princess so roughly!" you gasped, your voice ringing out in shocked outrage as you felt yourself flipped onto your stomach, your long white hair splaying out around you. "When Aemond hears that you misbehave-ahh!" Your words were cut off by a sharp cry as you felt the stinging slap of his palm against the tender flesh of your ass.

Jacaerys growled, his eyes darkening with lust and a hint of anger at your shocked gasp and mention of your brother. "Aemond is not here now," he said, his voice a low, dangerous rasp. "And you are mine."

To emphasise his point, Jacaerys brought his palm down hard against the soft, supple flesh of your ass, the sharp crack of the slap echoing through the room. He watched, enraptured, as the red handprint bloomed across your skin, marking you as his.

Jacaerys' eyes flashed with a dangerous light as he leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. "You forget yourself," he growled, his voice a low, menacing hiss. "I am still your prince, and you will address me with the respect I deserve."

His hand cracked against your ass again, the sharp sting making you gasp and arch beneath him. Jacaerys gripped your hips bruisingly tight, holding you in place as he ground his hardening cock against your dripping slit.

"I should punish you for such disrespect," he breathed, his voice rough with lust and anger. "I should fuck you until you can't walk until the only words you remember are 'my prince'."

"Is that what you want? To be punished and put in your place by your prince?"

You gasped, your heart pounding in your chest as you found yourself splayed out beneath your nephew, your long white hair fanning out around you like a silken waterfall. Shock and a flicker of hunger raced through your veins at his sudden display of dominance, your thighs trembling as he gripped your hips with bruising force.

"J-Jacaerys, I..." you stammered, your voice catching in your throat. You were not used to being spoken to in such a manner, especially not by your nephew. But as you lay there, your most intimate places on full display for his hungry gaze, you felt a confusing mix of outrage and a traitorous, shameful thrill.

A part of you wanted to fight back, to assert your own power and authority. But another part, a part you dared not acknowledge, quivered at the thought of finally being truly put in your place.

He chuckled darkly, a sound that sent shivers down your spine as his hand drifted lower, his fingers brushing maddeningly against your dripping slit. "Don't play coy with me, princess," he murmured mockingly, his voice a low, sensual purr. "I can feel how much you want this, how much you need to be put in your place by your prince."

Jacaerys circled your clit with a teasing finger, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp and clench around nothing. His other hand gripped your ass hard enough to leave bruises, kneading the soft flesh roughly. "You've pushed me too far, my dear princess. And now, you're going to pay the price."

He punctuated his words with another sharp smack to your ass, the stinging pain blending with the pleasure of his fingers teasing your aching, swollen folds. Jacaerys leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke, his voice a low, menacing hiss. "I'm going to tease this greedy little hole until it's weeping for my cock. I'm going to fuck you so hard and so long that you forget your own name. And if I decide to finally let you cum, it will be on my terms, not yours."

Jacaerys thrust two fingers deep inside your dripping heat, pumping them in and out of your clenching channel with brutal, punishing strokes. "Now, be a good princess and hold still. Your prince commands it."

You let out choked sobs, your body writhing beneath Jacaerys' punishing touch as he fingered your puffy cunt. Tears of humiliated arousal streamed down your flushed cheeks.

"Nnghh, Jacaerys! Oh gods..." you whimpered pathetically, your voice breaking as you buried your face in the sheets, your hips bucking involuntarily against his hand. "Mmff, fuuck! ... it's too much..."

Jacaerys growled, a dark, feral sound of satisfaction as he felt your body writhing and bucking beneath his touch, your choked sobs and whimpers music to his ears. He could feel your velvet walls clenching and fluttering around his pumping fingers, your arousal dripping down his hand and onto the sheets below.

"Don't you dare cum yet," Jacaerys commanded in a low, dangerous growl. "Not until I allow it. You don't get to find your pleasure until I say so."

He brought his palm down against your ass again, the sharp crack of the slap mingling with the obscene sound of his fingers plunging in and out of your dripping heat.

Jacaerys gripped your hair, wrenching your head back and forcing you to look at him as he continued his brutal assault on your most intimate places. "Look at you, my princess, sobbing and begging like a common whore," he taunted, his eyes glinting with cruel amusement. "Is this what you wanted? To be used and abused by your own nephew until you're nothing more than a desperate, cock-hungry slut?"

Curling his fingers inside you to rub against that sensitive spot that made you see stars. "You're mine. Your pleasure belongs to me, your body exists for my use. And I won't let you cum until I'm satisfied."

You thrashed and writhed beneath Jacaerys, your pussy gushing and creaming like a busted faucet as his fingers pounded into you. Tears of utter humiliation streamed down your flushed cheeks. You were sobbing like a wanton harlot, your body betraying your desperate need.

"Oh gods, Jacaerys! I'm s-sorry, I'm so sorry!" You slurred out between whorish moans and whimpers. "Please, please let your princess cum on your fingers like the needy slut she is. I can't... I can't hold back a-anymore!"

You hips bucked and grinded against his hand, fucking yourself on his digits like a woman possessed. It was so degrading, being reduced to this mewling, drooling mess by your own sweet nephew.

"I'm your slut, Jacaerys," you babbled out, too far gone to care how filthy your words were. "Please, I'm begging you, let me cum!"

Your velvet walls clenched and spasmed around his pumping fingers, trying to suck him deeper. You could feel your orgasm building, your clit throbbing and aching to be touched. You were so close, teetering on the edge of ecstasy.

Your pride and dignity had been fucked right out of you, leaving only a needy, begging, cum-drunk mess in their wake.

With a wicked grin, he suddenly withdrew his fingers from your dripping cunt, leaving you empty and aching.

"No," he said coldly. He pushed your thighs apart, exposing your glistening, swollen folds to his hungry gaze. "You don't get to cum that easily, slut. Look at this mess you've made, fucking yourself on my fingers like a bitch in heat."

He rubbed your slick arousal all over your thighs, your pussy lips, marking you with your own juices. The degrading action made you whimper and shed a few tears, but you were powerless to stop him.

Jacaerys brought his palm down on your ass with a sharp smack, watching as the red handprint bloomed across your skin. He spanked you again and again, each blow sending jolts of stinging pain and reluctant pleasure through your body.

You let out a squeal with each stinging spank, your body jerking and twitching beneath Jacaerys' punishing hand. Tears streamed down your flushed cheeks, dripping onto the sheets already soaked with your drool.

"That's it, take your punishment like a good little princess," he growled, his eyes glinting with cruel amusement as he reddened your ass. "Maybe this will teach you to respect your prince and keep your greedy cunt satisfied."

He continued to spank you, each blow pushing your thighs further apart, your dripping slit on lewd display. Your body was a mess of reddened skin and sticky arousal. And still, he did not let you cum.

"S-sorry... I... I d-don't... can't..." you whimpered and stammered incoherently. Not even sure what you were apologising for.

Your pussy pulsed, clenching around nothing and aching for release that was cruelly denied. You buried your face in the sheets, humiliated and desperate.

"Please... I'll d-do anything..." you sobbed, your voice breaking and cracking as you begged for mercy that wouldn't come. You were laid out like a feast before a starving man, your pussy and ass spread open for his burning gaze, ass reddened and burning from Jacaerys' relentless spanking.

Jacaerys smirked cruelly as he saw the desperate, debased state he had reduced you to. The once proud princess was now a sobbing, begging mess, your body laid out like a feast for his taking. He could see your tight little asshole begging to be filled just like your greedy cunt.

"Anything, you say?" Jacaerys taunted, his voice dripping with mocking amusement. "We'll see about that."

He leaned down, his face hovering over your dripping slit. You felt his hot breath against your sensitive flesh, making you shudder and clench. Then, without warning, he spat directly onto your pussy, the thick glob of saliva dripping down your folds.

"There's your prince's blessing," he said coldly, watching your face contort in humiliation and reluctant arousal.

He used his fingers to spread the saliva around, rubbing it into your swollen, glistening folds and your puckered hole.

"There, let that be a reminder of who you belong to," Jacaerys said, his voice rough with cruel amusement. "Your pleasure, your pain, your body, your mind... It's all mine to use as I see fit."

Jacaerys gripped your ass cheeks hard, spreading them wider, exposing you even more. He could see your pussy pulsing, aching to be filled, your tight little asshole clenching and winking at him. But still, he did not touch you where you needed him most, denying you the release you so desperately craved.

Whimpering pathetically, you could only let out choked, garbled noises as Jacaerys lewdly held your soft ass apart, exposing your most intimate places to his hungry gaze.

Tears streamed down your flushed, pretty face as you felt Jacaerys' eyes rake over your body, inspecting your holes like a piece of meat. It was degrading, humiliating, and yet... some dark, shameful part of you thrilled at being at the mercy of your nephew's cruel whims.

You were too far gone, too desperate and aching for release, to form any coherent words. All you could manage were pitiful whines and whimpers, sounding more like a cheap, wanton whore from the dank alleys of Silk Street than the esteemed princess you really were.

"J-Jacaerys," you stammered out, wanting his eyes anywhere else but your aching cunt.

Jacaerys chuckled darkly, his thumb circling and teasing your puckered hole, applying just enough pressure to make you clench and shudder. "Don't worry, dear aunt, I'm well aware of your sordid little affair with your dear brother Aemond. I'm sure this tight little asshole is no stranger to a Targaryen cock, hmm?"

He punctuated his mocking words by spitting crudely onto your asshole, watching with cruel amusement as you flinched at the lewd sensation. "Though I suspect even Aemond couldn't make you beg and plead like this. You're just a desperate, cock-hungry slut, aren't you? A filthy whore gagging for her own nephew's dick."

Jacaerys gripped your ass cheeks harder, spreading them wider. He could see your pussy clenching, aching to be filled, and he knew he had you right where he wanted you. At his mercy, desperate and debased, ready to do anything for release.

You shuddered with humiliation as Jacaerys cruelly brought up your shameful liaison with Aemond, your face burning hotter than dragonfire. A choked sob escaped your lips, your body writhing beneath him as you begged, "Please, Jacaerys, I can't endure this torment any longer! I need you inside me, fuck me!" Your juices flowed freely, dripping down your quivering thighs like drool.

He could see the shame and humiliation warring with the desperate need in your eyes, and it only fueled his desire to utterly ruin you.

"Please, please fuck me," Jacaerys mocked, his voice dripping with false sympathy. "Is that all you can say? I thought you had a silver tongue, but it seems all you can do is drool and beg for cock like a common whore."

He brought his hand down hard on your ass, the sharp slap echoing through the room. "You want me inside you? You want your prince to fill your greedy cunt and claim you as his own?" Jacaerys ridiculed, his voice rough with lust and cruel intent.

Without warning, he gripped your hips bruisingly tight and thrust forward, burying himself to the hilt inside your dripping heat. A guttural groan tore from his throat at the feel of your velvet walls clenching and fluttering around his thick shaft, gripping him like a vice.

"Fuck, you're so tight," Jacaerys snarled, his hips already starting to move, pounding into you with brutal, punishing strokes. "Such a perfect little pussy for your prince to use."

You let out a loud, wanton moan as Jacaerys finally buried his thick cock deep inside your aching, dripping cunt. Your back arched, pressing your tits against the sheets as you babbled out your desperate thanks. "Fuuuck yes, thank you, thank you, thank you!" You cried, your voice breaking with relief and overwhelming pleasure at finally being so thoroughly filled.

He set a relentless pace, each thrust pushing your body forward, your tits bouncing with the force of his fucking. The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with your desperate cries and Jacaerys' harsh grunts of pleasure.

"That's it, take your prince's cock like the eager little slut you are," Jacaerys growled, one hand fisting in your hair, wrenching your head back as he fucked into you harder, deeper. "This is what you were made for. To be a set of holes for your husband to use as he pleases."

Your body went completely limp beneath him, surrendering to the brutal pace of his fucking. You felt like little more than a ragdoll, your ass bouncing and jiggling with each powerful thrust of Jacaerys' hips. Tears of ecstasy streamed down your face as you gave yourself over to the sensation of being used so roughly.

"Harder," you demanded, your voice a ragged gasp between moans. "Fuck me harder, Jacaerys. Ruin me... break me. I need it, please..." you begged, too far gone in your pleasure to care about the shame of your words.

"As my princess commands," Jacaerys growled, his eyes flashing with dark promise. He gripped your hips harder, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh hard enough to leave bruises. Then, with an animalistic snarl, he started to fuck into you with even more force, each thrust shaking the bed and rattling the headboard against the wall.

The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with your ragged moans and Jacaerys' harsh grunts of pleasure. He could feel your body tensing, your pussy clenching and fluttering around his pistoning shaft as he pounded into you with wild abandon.

"That's it, take it all like a good little slut," Jacaerys panted, sweat dripping down his face from the exertion. "Scream for your prince, let all of Dragonstone hear what a desperate, cock-hungry whore you are for your husband."

He brought his hand down on your ass again, the sharp slap echoing through the room. "What a pretty slut my little princess is." He cooed mockingly.

You arched your back sharply, gripping the sheets until your knuckles turned white as you pushed your hips back into Jacaerys' relentless thrusts. A litany of broken moans and praise spilt from your lips. "Ohhh... fuuck yesss! Don't stop, please don't stop!" You cried out, your voice echoing off the stone walls. Your hair splayed out around you, the sweat glistening on your heaving tits. "S-so good... Jacaerys!" You gasped out, your eyes rolling back in ecstasy as he fucked you like he wanted to break you.

Jacaerys could feel your pussy starting to flutter and clench around his pistoning cock, your body tensing as your orgasm approached. He knew you were close, could sense the desperation in your voice as you begged him not to stop.

"Not yet," Jacaerys growled, his voice rough and commanding. "You don't cum until I allow it, remember?"

He gripped your hair, wrenching your head back as he leaned down to bite and suck at your neck, leaving dark marks on your skin. His other hand slid around to your front, finding your swollen clit and rubbing it roughly, in time with his brutal thrusts.

"Beg for it," Jacaerys demanded, his hot breath washing over your ear. "Beg your prince to let you cum like the desperate slut you are."

He could feel his own release approaching, his balls tightening as he fucked into you with wild abandon. But he held back, determined to make you beg for the privilege of climaxing on his cock.

You whined in desperation as Jacaerys' fingers found your aching clit, rubbing the sensitive nub in rough circles, making it even harder to hold back your climax.

"I jus-... I can't... I can't hold back!" You cried out, your voice breaking with the force of your need.

"Please, Jacaerys... I need... I need to cum," you sobbed brokenly, your cunt clenching and fluttering wildly around his pistoning shaft. The coil of tension in your core wound tighter and tighter, threatening to snap at any moment.

"Not good enough," Jacaerys grinned, his voice rough and demanding. "Beg properly. Beg your prince to let you cum on his cock."

Grinding his hips against your ass, his fingers rubbing your clit in tight, rough circles. The sensation was almost too much to bear, your body screaming for the sweet relief of orgasm.

"Come on," Jacaerys taunted, his voice dripping with mocking sympathy. "I know you can do better than that. Scream for me."

You couldn't hold back any longer, even if you wanted to. Shaking and trembling as the coil of tension finally snapped. "Ahhh!" You screamed, your voice echoing through the castle. Your pussy spasmed wildly around his pistoning shaft.

Waves of ecstasy crashed over you, your clit throbbing and pulsing as you gushed around Jacaerys' cock. You were dimly aware of your arousal dripping down your quivering thighs, the wet squelch of his shaft plunging into your fluttering cunt. But all you could focus on was the intense, overwhelming pleasure radiating from your core, consuming every fibre of your being.

"Fuck, Jacaerys!" You wailed, your back arching sharply as you pressed your heaving tits against the sweat-soaked sheets.

Jacaerys let out a guttural groan, his hips stuttering as he buried himself deep inside your spasming cunt. "Fuck, you disobedient slut. I didn't give you permission to cum."

Despite his words, he couldn't stop the intense pleasure that ripped through him, his cock pulsing and throbbing as it emptied inside you. He gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises, holding you in place as he painted your walls with thick ropes of seed.

He collapsed on top of you, his sweat-slicked body pressing you into the mattress as he caught his breath. For a long moment, he just lay there, his softening cock still nestled inside your dripping heat, basking in the afterglow of his release.

Finally, he lifted his head to look at you, his eyes glinting with dark satisfaction. "There now, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Jacaerys murmured, his voice rough and sated. "I think you needed that, dear wife. I think you needed to be put in your place and reminded of who you belong to."

He rolled off of you, his seed leaking out of your well-fucked hole and dripping down your thighs. The sight made him grin, pleased with how well he had fucked you.

You shuddered and whimpered as Jacaerys slipped his softening length from your aching, dripping core. A needy whine escaped your lips, feeling so deliciously empty and used. "Nngh... " you gasped, your chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath. Your long hair clung to your sweaty skin in tangled ropes, and your eyes fluttered open to gaze up at Jacaerys with a mix of lingering lust and newfound awe.

You could feel his thick seed leaking from your well-fucked, puffy cunt, dripping down your slit. The sensation made you clench reflexively, a shiver running through you.

Jacaerys smirked down at you. "There now, that's a good look for you," he purred, reaching out to trail his fingers through the mess between your thighs, gathering some of his release on his fingertips. He brought them to your lips, painting them with the sticky essence. "Taste it."

He watched as you obediently parted your lips, your small pink tongue darting out to lick his fingers clean. The sight made his spent cock twitch, already starting to stir with renewed interest.

Jacaerys rolled onto his back, pulling you with him so that you were draped across his chest. His hands roamed over your curves possessively, squeezing and kneading your ass, your tits, as if he were inspecting a prized mare.

"You're mine," Jacaerys said, his voice low and rough with lingering lust. "My personal princess slut, ready to service me whenever I desire. I'll keep you in my chambers, a warm, willing set of holes for your prince to use as he pleases. No need for us to sleep in different chambers anymore. Don't you think?"

He tangled a hand in your hair, gripping it tightly and forcing you to look up at him. "Do you understand, wife? Do you understand what it means to belong to me now?" Jacaerys growled, his eyes glinting with dark promise.

You gazed up at Jacaerys, your eyes meeting his dark, possessive stare. You nodded quickly.

"Yes, Jacaerys, I'm yours," you murmured, your voice still rough from your cries of ecstasy.

You nuzzled closer to him, craving the feel of his strong arms around you, his hands roaming your curves. The fight had been fucked out of you, all thoughts of Aemond or any of your other previous lovers gone.

"Please," you breathed, arching into his groping fingers as they squeezed and kneaded your sensitive flesh. "Keep me in your chambers, hold me." Your words were a shameless plea, a promise of eternal devotion.

Jacaerys' expression softened, his grip on your hair gentling as he gazed down at you with a mix of tenderness and possessive heat. "Shhh, it's alright, my princess," he murmured, his voice lowering to a soothing rumble. "You're safe now. You're with me."

"I want to keep you just like this," Jacaerys murmured, nuzzling into your neck and inhaling your scent. "Soft, sated, ready and eager for my touch. My princess, my love, my everything."

He captured your lips in a deep, sensual kiss - a promise of more to come. When he finally pulled back, his eyes were dark with renewed hunger.

"Rest now," Jacaerys commanded softly. "I'm planning on having you with child by morning."

tags: @bey0nd-1he-stars @venusbyline-blog

[aeralux]

Acrostic Music Tag Game

Task: Pick a song for every letter in your Tumblr URL.

I was tagged by @mourning-sapphire

Automatic - Red Velvet (ult K-pop group) Every Breath You Take - The Police (I love 80s music) Rush - Troye Sivan (the instrumental EATS DOWN) Amargura - Karol G (I major in Spanish and love Latin music) Last Summer Whisper - Anri (80s Japanese city pop is so goated) Ultraviolence - Lana del Rey (I mean... obviously) XXX - Kim Petras (she writes songs for the sluts)

If you want to do this then go ahead🧚 @bey0nd-1he-stars @knight-of-flowerss @therogueflame

[aeralux]

Where is your WIP list?

Imma make it, trust twin 😛😝

[aeralux]

What are the odds you write another smut with cregan and jacerys?

HIGH! I’ve been real horny recently with absolutely nothing to do so if you have ANY ideas… 😩😩😩🤪😌🤗

I also have to do a WIP list so everyone knows what awaits 🤓

[aeralux]

I didn’t even remember I had this in the drafts… might as well finish it tonight hehehe

[aeralux]

Every unhinged fic writer needs an equally unhinged friend who "yes ands" their ideas and encourages them to write all their most far fetched and insane stories.

[aeralux]

do you still write for hotd?

YESS! I just published a Cregan fic not that long ago

here <3

I've just been busy with life--a foreign country, now looking for a job and an apartment etc.

But I'll get back to writing more consistently once I've settled down :))

aera <3

[aeralux]

dear lord, please take all life problems and responsibilities away from fanfic writers but also make them financially stable and happy with nothing to worry about so they can happily focus on writing and posting fanfiction. amen

[aeralux]

"Prey" - Cregan Stark

𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐱 𝐖𝐢𝐟𝐞!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You loved your husband. Truly, you did. He did everything in his power to make you feel good, treating you as the most delicate flower, his little deer. But you wanted him to know you weren't all that easy to break.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT (18+); a bit of primal play; loving husband Cregan who just wants to make you feel good; rough(er) sex per reader's request

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 4.8k

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: No description of the reader (except that the reader has hair), no use of (y/n). English is not my first language. I am not responsible for the media you choose to consume. I finished and beta read this while extremely tired, so please do not even start with me, okay? Enjoy <3.

𐔌 . ⋮ 𝒶𝑒𝓇𝒶 .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ��

It was bitterly cold in the north, the kind of chill that seeped into your bones and turned breath into mist. Yet, there was a warmth to be found in your new life with Lord Stark. He seemed to know how to shield you from the sharp bite of winter. Wrapping you in furs, he ensured your chambers of Winterfell were among the warmest and cosiest in the castle.

His care for you was evident, though his expressions of love were often quiet and reserved. He seemed to hold back, as if afraid that he might hurt you somehow.

As your husband, he allowed you the freedom to practice the Faith of the Seven, even facilitating the construction of a sept within the castle just for you. It was a gesture that spoke volumes, a sign of his affection and respect for your beliefs. Cregan’s love was steady and peaceful, a protective force that enveloped you. He viewed you as his Lady of Winterfell, a fragile flower that needed shelter from the harsh winds and the unknown dangers lurking beyond the Wall.

Despite your reassurances that you were perfectly capable of handling life’s challenges—and your eagerness to even join him on hunts—Cregan still saw you more like a soft deer than a fierce wolf. Who could blame him? You had a beauty that had captivated the entire North, a vision that stirred admiration wherever you went.

His concern for your safety extended far beyond the winter chill, infiltrating every aspect of your life, especially in the bedroom. At first, his tender approach felt comforting. Cregan’s hands were gentle, his caresses like a soft breeze, treating you with an almost reverent care. But as time passed, you yearned to uncover another side of him, the warrior you’d heard about from your maids’ whispers.

Northern men were renowned for their power and vitality; tales of their prowess stirred a deep longing within you. You found yourself yearning for that fierceness, that raw energy. You dropped hints like breadcrumbs, letting your gaze linger on his strong arms, offering teasing touches during quiet conversations. Yet, no matter how suggestive or inviting you tried to be, nothing seemed to spark the fervour you craved.

As the sun dipped low in the sky, you spent another quiet day mending one of your husband's coats. A way for you to show your gratitude through these simple acts of care. You called the maids, asking them to fetch both of you warm drinks, eager to welcome Cregan back from his time in the yard.

When he entered, his cheeks were flushed from the crisp air, and a hint of snow clung to his clothes. You greeted him with a soft smile, setting the coat aside to focus on him. Taking a seat beside him, you placed your warm hand gently over his, feeling the strength in his grasp as the flickering candlelight danced around the room, creating a soft glow. The warm atmosphere wrapped around you like a comforting embrace, making the moment feel even more special.

“How has your day been, my Lord husband?” you asked, your voice soft in the quiet space. Cregan’s gaze met yours, and for a moment, the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you basking in the warmth of each other’s presence.

Cregan looked at his wife, his eyes softening as they took in your features illuminated by the flickering candlelight.

He squeezed your hand gently, his calloused fingers brushing against your soft skin. The contrast between you was stark, a warrior's hand and a lady's hand entwined.

Cregan leaned in closer, his voice a low rumble in his chest. "It has been a long day, my lady," he admitted, his voice low and tired. "The men are in good spirits, but the cold is taking its toll. I fear this winter will be a harsh one. And what of you, my dear? I trust you have not caught a chill in my absence?" He reached out with his free hand, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his fingers lingering on your cheek for a moment.

Cregan's gaze drifted to the coat you had been mending, a small smile playing on his lips. "You need not trouble yourself with such things, my love. I have a whole host of maids and servants to attend to such tasks." He brought your hand up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

A blush crept across your cheeks, but it was not solely from the winter's chill. The brush of his lips against your skin had ignited a different sort of warmth within you, a longing that had been growing with each passing day in his presence. 

"I want to," you replied bluntly, holding Cregan's gaze with unwavering intensity. Your eyes locked as you leaned in until your foreheads nearly touched. The warmth of his breath mingled with yours in the space between you.

"My lord, I wish to do this for you," you murmured, your voice low and fervent. "After all that you have done for me, after the care and protection you've shown me, it is my desire- no, my duty." You turned your hand in his grasp, interlacing your fingers tightly as you held his gaze.

Cregan felt a stirring within him at the intensity in your gaze, the way your fingers tightened around his. He could see the longing burning in your eyes, a hunger that went beyond the simple act of mending a coat.

Cregan's eyes searched yours, a battle raging within him. The urge to take you, to claim you with the passion of a man who had been starved of it for so long, warred with the need to protect you, to keep you safe from the coarser nature of his self.

He leaned in closer, his lips now a mere hair's breadth from yours, your name falling from his lips like a prayer. "You are my wife, my lady." His thumb brushed over your lower lip, tracing the soft curve. "But if it pleases you to care for me, to show me such kindness, who am I to deny you?"

His other hand slid up your arm, over the fur-lined sleeve of your gown, coming to rest on your shoulder. He could feel the warmth of your skin beneath, the way your body responded to his touch. It took all of his self-control not to have his way with you right there, to feel your soft curves pressed against him.

You let your hand linger on his, your voice dropping into something softer, sultrier. “But if I am your lady, I should at least act like it. Keep your clothes mended. Warm your bed.” You tilted your head, brushing your lips just shy of his jaw. “Among other duties.”

Cregan’s breath hitched. That was new.

His eyes darkened, the shift subtle but unmistakable. A muscle in his jaw ticked as he studied your face, and you saw it—that flicker of the wolf, straining at its leash.

“I do not wish to overwhelm you,” he said slowly, as if even speaking was a struggle.

You leaned back just enough to smirk. “Perhaps I’d like to be overwhelmed.”

The silence between you was charged, stretched thin with heat. You stood then, letting your fingers trail along his shoulder, your voice lilting with mischief.

“Or are the great wolves of the North all bark and no bite?”

That did it.

In a flash, Cregan was on his feet. You squealed—actually squealed—and darted away just as his hand reached for your waist. The candlelight flickered wildly as you flew down the hall, your laugh echoing off the cold stone walls.

“Get back here, little deer,” Cregan growled, his voice rougher now, the calm Lord Stark unravelling with every step he took behind you.

You ducked into a side corridor, skirts gathered in your fists, heart pounding with thrill. He was close—you could hear the heavy thud of his boots behind you, steady, relentless.

“You think teasing me’s wise?” His voice was closer now, and laced with amusement. “You’re tempting the wolf, girl.”

“Good,” you shot over your shoulder. “Maybe the wolf’s what I want.”

Cregan's eyes flashed with a hunger that made your heart race. He lunged forward, catching you around the waist and pulling you back against his chest. You gasped as you collided with the solid wall of his body, the breath knocked from your lungs.

"Careful what you wish for, my lady," Cregan growled in your ear, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. "The wolf has a very different appetite than the man."

He spun you around to face him, his hands gripping your waist tightly. His eyes raked over your face, taking in the flush of your cheeks, and the way your chest heaved with each ragged breath. He could feel the heat of your skin through the thin fabric of your gown, could feel the way your body trembled against his.

One hand slid up your back, tangling in your hair and tugging your head back to expose the column of your throat. The other hand gripped your hip, pulling you harder against him until you could feel every hard inch of his body pressed against yours.

"Gods, you drive me insane, woman," Cregan murmured, his breath hot against your skin. "So many times I've wanted to just rip your pretty little gown off and show you how a northerner really takes his wife."

Shuddering, you whispered his name like a prayer, breathless and needy. "Cregan..." Your voice trembled, eyes wide and vulnerable, gazing up at him through long, sooty lashes. You were a deer caught in the wolf's sight, knowing you were about to be ravished.

Your chest rose and fell with every uneven breath, labouring as you inhaled, the swell of your breasts straining against the confines of your gown. The delicious sting on your scalp sent jolts of pleasure-pain straight to your core.

"Please, my lord..." you mewled, your lips parted and inviting. "Show me. Take me. Ruin me. Claim your right..."

Another squeal burst from your lips as strong arms wrapped around your waist, lifting you clean off the ground. You squirmed, breathless with anticipation.

He pinned you against the cold stone wall, but his body was all heat, pressed flush to yours. His voice was low and wicked against your ear. “I warned you.”

And then, he kissed you. Hard. Thorough. Like a man making up for lost time.

When he finally pulled back, just enough for air, your eyes were dazed, lips tingling. He smirked, his voice gravel and fire. “You’ve got what you asked for now, my lady.”

You gave a breathless laugh. “Not nearly enough.”

He growled, a real, low sound in his chest, and bent to scoop you up in his arms.

Cregan carried you swiftly down the corridor, his long strides eating up the distance. He kicked open the door to your shared chambers, the heavy wood slamming against the stone wall. The room was dimly lit, the fire casting long shadows across the bed.

He tossed you onto the furs, your skirts riding up to reveal a flash of your smooth thighs. Cregan loomed over you, his eyes glinting in the low light. He shrugged off his cloak, letting it pool on the floor, before attacking the fastenings of his tunic, when he froze.

You were sitting up on your knees, eyes gleaming in the firelight. “No,” you murmured, holding up a hand, your voice sultry, commanding. “Let me.”

Cregan stilled. His chest rose and fell, heavy with breath, as he watched you.

You began with the outer fur-lined surcoat, undoing the clasp at your throat. It slid from your shoulders and down your arms, falling behind you in a soft heap. The next layer—the fitted kirtle—was laced tightly up your front. You met his gaze as you undid each loop with slow, deliberate fingers, one by one, the tension in the fabric easing with every pull.

“You think I'm delicate,” you said, your voice low and dangerous. “Fragile. Something to protect.” You loosened the bodice until the fabric gaped, revealing the thin linen shift beneath. “But I’m not. Am I?”

Cregan said nothing. His jaw clenched. His eyes darkened.

You let the kirtle slip down over your hips, pooling around your knees. Now only the shift remained—thin, nearly sheer in the firelight, clinging to your body from the warmth of the room and the heat rising from your skin.

Still, on your knees, you slowly lifted the hem of your shift. Just a little at first, baring the smooth skin of your calves, then your thighs. His gaze locked onto your hands, following every inch as more of you was revealed.

“You’ve been gentle for too long,” you whispered, bunching the shift around your hips. “Careful. Controlled. Dutiful.” You hooked your thumbs beneath the neckline and pulled it down over your shoulders—slowly—exposing the curve of your breasts inch by inch. “But I didn’t marry the Lord of Winterfell for gentle.”

The shift slipped off your arms and fell into your lap.

Now, fully bare in the golden firelight, you stood upright, bold and unashamed. Your voice dropped to a daring whisper. “I married the wolf.”

Cregan stood frozen, his eyes roving hungrily over every inch of newly exposed skin. The firelight danced across your curves, casting shadows that accentuated the swell of your breasts, the dip of your waist, and the flare of your hips. His gaze lingered on the juncture between your thighs, where a glistening dampness betrayed your arousal.

He swallowed hard, his throat clicking audibly in the charged silence. Slowly, deliberately, he reached out and wrapped a calloused hand around your throat, his thumb brushing over the racing pulse at the base of your neck. His other hand gripped your ass, fingers sinking into the soft flesh hard enough to leave bruises.

"You play a dangerous game, my little wife," Cregan growled, his voice low and rough with barely restrained desire."You think you can handle the wolf? The one that wants to pin you down and take you until you scream?" His grip tightened ever so slightly, a silent warning. "Until you beg for mercy? Until the only name you remember is mine?"

You gazed up at Cregan, your eyes sparkling with desire in the flickering firelight. A coy smile played at the corners of your lips as you felt his strong hand wrap around your throat, his thumb brushing over your racing pulse. You arched into his touch, pressing your body flush against his.

"I can handle everything and more, my lord. I've yearned for you to ruin me, to claim me so rough that I can't even form a single thought."

Cregan's eyes flashed with a primal hunger at your bold words. Without warning, he crashed his lips against yours in a bruising kiss, his tongue delving deep to stake his claim. One hand fisted in your hair, yanking your head back to grant him better access, while the other hand slid down to grip your hip, pulling you harder against the thick ridge of his arousal.

He walked you backwards until your knees hit the edge of the bed, then pushed you down onto the furs. Looming over you, he made quick work of his breeches, shoving them down his muscular thighs along with his smallclothes. His manhood sprang free, long, thick and hard, the engorged head already weeping with need.

Cregan crawled over you, settling his hips between your spread thighs. He reached down to run a finger through your slick folds, groaning at the wetness he found there.

He caught your wrists in one large hand and pinned them above your head, his hips rocking forward to grind his thick length along your slick folds. The coarse hair at the base of his shaft rasped against your sensitive folds.

"Gods, you're dripping," he growled, his voice rough with lust. 

He rocked his hips harder, the thick head of his cock catching on your entrance with each pass. His free hand slid down your body, calloused fingers skimming over the swell of your breasts and the dip of your waist, before settling between your thighs. He circled your clit with the rough pad of his thumb, the slick sounds of your arousal filling the room.

"Beg for it," Cregan demanded, his breath hot against your ear. "Beg me to ruin this tight little cunt and make you mine." He pinched down hard on your clit, sending pleasure and pain through you. "Go on, my lady. Let me hear that pretty voice scream for your husband's cock."

You gasped sharply as a hot sensation pierced through your core, back arching off the furs. Your eyes flew open wide, meeting Cregan's wild, hungry gaze. But the man you'd married, the lord you'd given yourself to, was gone. In his place crouched a beast, eyes black as night, pupils blown wide with primal lust. You shuddered under the intensity of his stare, feeling more like prey than a bride.

"Cregan," you whimpered, voice trembling. Fear and exhilaration warred within you as you gazed up at him, your heart pounding wildly against your ribs. Some dark part of you thrilled at the thought of being taken by this feral creature, claimed so roughly that you'd be forever marked as his.

"Please," you breathed, hardly recognising the needy, desperate edge to your voice. "Please, my lord...fuck me" This was no longer your gentle husband, but a wolf, an animal, a man consumed by the basest of instincts. And the Seven help you, but you wanted nothing more than to have him eat you alive. Let the whole castle know how the Lord of Winterfell fucks his sweet lady wife.

Cregan chuckled darkly, a wicked glint in his eyes. "Beg properly," he growled, grinding his thick length along your dripping slit. "You'll have to do better than that. I want to hear you scream it."

His fingers circled your entrance teasingly, not yet delving inside, as his thumb rubbed firm circles around your throbbing clit. Your hips bucked up against his hand, seeking more friction, more pressure, but he pulled away, denying you the release you craved.

"Beg for my cock like the desperate little slut you are," Cregan demanded, his voice a low, menacing rumble. "Tell me how badly you need to be split open on your husband's thick meat. How you can't wait to feel me pounding into your greedy drooling cunt until you're sobbing for mercy."

You trembled beneath Cregan, tears of desperate need welling up in your eyes. Your voice shook as you forced out the words, the tone of your voice foreign to your ears. "Please, my lord," you whimpered, your usual composure shattered. "I-I can't...I need..." A choked sob escaped your lips as you bucked your hips, seeking any friction against your aching, dripping core.

"Please, Cregan! I'm b-begging you...fuck me! I'm s-so empty, so desperate for your cock. I'll do anything, please...fill me!"

Cregan smirked wickedly at your desperate plea, his eyes glinting with dark satisfaction. "That's more like it," he purred, his voice a low, sinful rumble. Without warning, he slammed his hips forward, burying his thick length to the hilt in one brutal thrust.

A guttural groan tore from his throat at the feel of your tight walls clenching around him, gripping his shaft like a velvet vice. He paused for a moment, savouring the exquisite sensation, before drawing back and slamming in again, even harder this time.

"Ohhhh!" You cried out, back bowing sharply as Cregan's thick cock speared into your core, splitting you open in one brutal thrust. "Cregan!" Your voice shattered, a desperate wail tearing from your throat as you felt every rigid inch of him plunging deep, stretching you beyond what you thought possible. Your eyes rolled back, tongue lolling out as you were split open on his thick shaft.

"Yes, fuck, you feel so fucking good," Cregan snarled, his hips setting a deep, relentless rhythm. He hooked your legs over his shoulders, nearly bending you in half, allowing him even deeper into your core. The angle had him kissing your womb with every thrust, the head of his cock ramming against that secret spot deep inside that made stars explode behind your eyelids.

"Ohhhh, gods!" You whimpered, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks as you gazed down at the obscene sight of his shaft disappearing into your body. "It's...it's so big! You're s-splitting me in half!"

You babbled incoherently, feeling every veiny, rigid inch of him in your most intimate depths. Your tummy bulged obscenely with each savage thrust, the outline of his cock visible through the skin.

Lewd, wet squelching noises filled the room, the depraved sounds of your husband's heavy balls slapping against your ass.

You begged him not to stop, voice breaking on a wail. Drool dripped down your chin as you surrendered to the mindless ecstasy of being so ruthlessly fucked.

Cregan pistoned his hips at a relentless, punishing pace, the force of his thrusts rocking the heavy bed frame against the stone wall. He could feel your slick walls fluttering and clenching around his shaft, gripping him like a silken fist as he drove into your core again and again.

"Fuck, your cunt feels like heaven," Cregan growled, his voice strained with pleasure and exertion. He lowered his head to capture one of your bouncing tits in his mouth, sucking hard as he bit down just shy of pain. His hand slid down to your hip, gripping the flesh hard enough to leave finger-shaped bruises as he yanked you harder against him.

"That's it, take it all like the good little wife you are," Cregan snarled, his breath hot against your skin. "This cunt was made to be bred by me."

You were lost to the brutal pleasure, your mind fracturing with each savage thrust of Cregan's hips.

Your nails raked down Cregan's sweat-slicked back, trying to ground yourself. Incoherent babbles and sputters only leave your lips, becoming brainless by how incredibly good it felt. His cock dragging against your gummy walls.

"Hnn-... har-harder," you gasped, your hips bucking uncontrollably to meet his brutal pace. The noble lady reduced to a mewling, drooling mess by her husband's relentless fucking.

"As my lady commands," Cregan rumbled, his voice a dark promise before he flipped you over onto your hands and knees, your ass high in the air. This was new. He had never taken you from behind before.

He gripped your hips, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh hard enough to leave marks as he spread your soft cheeks. Admiring the view with a low hum.

Cregan's cock, slick with your juices, slid between your ass cheeks, the thick head catching on your puckered back entrance. You gasped, a thrill of nervousness and excitement shooting through you at the unfamiliar sensation. 

"Cregan?" you asked breathlessly, looking back over your shoulder at him with wide, uncertain eyes.

Your voice trailed off as Cregan's hand cracked down on your ass, the sharp sting making you clench around nothing."Shh, little one," he soothed, rubbing the reddened flesh gently. "Don't worry, my dear. I won't do anything you don't want me to do."

He leaned down to press a kiss to your shoulder, his lips trailing up the side of your neck to your ear. "But I am going to fill this sweet cunt until you're dripping with my seed," Cregan promised.

You gazed back at Cregan over your shoulder, your lips trembling and cheeks flushed, a sheen of sweat on your brows. Your legs quivered beneath you, knees weak from the relentless pounding of his hips. You were his, the little deer finally caught and submitting to the wolf.

"Please, my lord," I breathed, my voice hoarse from screaming his name. "Fill your wife's needy cunt with your seed." Even forming sentences seemed too hard for you. "I'm your prey."

Cregan smirked at your breathless plea, his eyes glinting with dark satisfaction. "That's right, you're mine now," he growled, his voice a low, possessive rumble. "My sweet little deer, all caught and ready to be bred."

With that, he slammed his hips forward, burying his thick length to the hilt in your dripping cunt. He set a slow, deep pace, the bed shaking and creaking beneath you with the force of his thrusts. The obscene sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the room, mingling with your desperate cries and Cregan's guttural groans.

His heavy balls slapped against your sensitive clit, the obscene sound of flesh meeting flesh echoing through the room.

Cregan's hand slid to wrap around your hair, tugging on it just enough to make you squeeze around him. "That's it, so good to me," he growled, his breath hot against your ear.

You let out a guttural moan with each deep, punishing thrust, your body jolting like a ragdoll. Drool dripped down your chin as you panted and mewled, eyes rolling back and fluttering shut.

"Mmmhhh...aahhhnn..." You whimpered pitifully, your upper body collapsing onto the bed as Cregan took you from behind like a beast in a rut. Ass raised high and presented for your lord's use, just as a good wife should be.

Cregan's breath came in harsh pants, his heart pounding against his ribs as he felt his release fast approaching.

"Fuck, I can feel you squeezing around me," Cregan grunted, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. "Your greedy little cunt is milking my cock, just begging to be filled with my seed." He punctuated his words with a sharp thrust, grinding his pelvis against your ass.

Cregan's rhythm began to falter, his thrusts growing more erratic as he chased his pleasure. "I'm close," he bit out through gritted teeth, his grip on your hips tightening even further.

"A-Cregan!" You cried out, your voice breaking as your body began to tremble uncontrollably. Tears of overwhelming pleasure streamed down your flushed cheeks.

Your nails dug into the bedsheets, fisting the fine linen as you felt your climax fast approaching. The intense, building pressure in your core threatened to consume you entirely. "P-Please, I n-need...I need you inside me when I...when I..." You couldn't even bring yourself to say it, too lost in the throes of ecstasy to form the words.

"I'm...I'm going to...ahhh!" Your cry of rapture echoed through the chamber as you felt your body stiffen, your walls clenching down on Cregan's pistoning shaft as your climax crashed over you.

Cregan let out a roar, your release triggering his own. With one final, brutal thrust, he buried himself to the hilt inside you, his heavy balls pulsing as he emptied himself into your spasming depths.

"Ahh!" Cregan bellowed, his voice echoing off the stone walls as thick ropes of his hot seed painted your insides. His hips jerked and shuddered against your ass as spurt after spurt of his cum flooded your womb, marking you as his.

He collapsed against your back, his weight pressing you into the mattress as he struggled to catch his breath. Cregan's heart raced against your spine, his skin slick with sweat and flushed with heat.

"Gods, woman," Cregan panted, his voice rough and sated. "I love you." He pressed a tender kiss to your shoulder, his teeth grazing your skin. "My sweet, perfect wife. My lady."

You turned around under him and gazed up at Cregan through heavy-lidded eyes, a soft smile playing at your lips as you tried to catch your breath beneath his solid weight that caged you. "I love you too, my darling wolf," you murmured, your voice low and sated. "You always know just how to make your lady feel cherished and desired." You reached up to caress his cheek, your fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. "Thank you."

Cregan leaned into your touch, his eyes softening as he gazed down at you. He pressed a gentle kiss to your palm, his lips lingering on your skin. "No, thank you," he murmured, his voice low and warm. "For being my perfect wife, for giving yourself to me so completely." He brushed a strand of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. "I am the lucky one, my lady." Cregan's gaze drifted over your face, taking in the flush of your cheeks, the sparkle in your eyes.

A slow, satisfied smirk spread across his face. "And I'm not nearly done with you yet," he purred, his voice a low, wicked rumble. "The night is still young, and I intend to spend every moment worshipping my beautiful bride." He rolled his hips, grinding his softening length inside you, a reminder of the pleasure to come. "By the time I'm through with you, you won't be able to walk out of this room."

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 (n my pookies) @bey0nd-1he-stars @targaryenprincess1 @knight-of-flowerss @venusbyline @therogueflame

[aeralux]

yk that trend where wives would get their cop husbands to chase them like they’re in pursuit to see if they can get away? yeah, doing that with cregan would unlock his primal play kink

The idea of Cregan chasing me around got me giggling and blushing OH MY DAYSSS WHAT A MAN

[aeralux]

Thinking about writing a Cregan smut with primal play. Cause I think it’s pretty obvious that man gives it to you like an animal in the bedroom.

Maybe some chasing around the castle of Winterfell before he finally catches you 😜😜

[aeralux]

wow i thought we were married

Nooo my wife!!! 😭

Don’t worry you’re still my nr 1 lady 🤍🤍🤍

[aeralux]

Do you like having sex with men or women more? Who is better in bed in general?

Well I’ve had sex with more men than women so I don’t have the best perspective on this.

But with one night stands men (obviously) very much focus on their pleasure and even do some things without asking first (hello? 🚩).

But the girl I went on a date with and had over was very sweet and caring and asked me how I was feeling and what I wanted to do.

With men the intimacy is good when you’re close/in a relationship. With women, seems like it might be good even when there is no previous relationship.

That’s my two cents on the matter. 🤍🤍😌

[aeralux]

Feel like I should do more wlw smuts now that I’ve actually been with a girl (officially a bisexual now, AND on pride month)

"undressed" - Rhaneyra Targaryen

𝐌𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧!𝐀𝐔 (𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠)𝐑𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐧𝐲𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: She was the sun. And the sun sets when she wants. But you were the moon. Some nights, you lit up the whole sky. Other nights, you disappeared without warning—left the world to figure itself out in the dark.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: slight angst; fluff; WLW yearning; eating out (both are absolute munches); soft fluff

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 5k

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: No description of the reader, no use of (y/n). English is not my first language. I am not responsible for the media you choose to consume. This made me horny af writing it 🤭.

𐔌 . ⋮ 𝒶𝑒𝓇𝒶 .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

Loving Rhaenyra was easy. Too easy.

Loving Rhaenyra was like being kissed by a salty breeze near the ocean, cooling your skin on a burning summer day.

Like savouring a chilled beer while laughter flowed freely among friends, the world faded away in that perfect moment.

Her kisses tasted of her mint chapstick, because she hated the sweet berry flavours everyone else seemed to love. You could still taste the remnants of her last cigarette on her tongue as she leaned close and whispered sweet nothings into your ear.

You really couldn't imagine loving anyone else. Ever.

Rhaenyra was the type of girl who wore obscure band tees but blasted 2000s top hits and danced with you like no one was watching. She would wrap her arms around you from behind, holding you close as if she feared you'd vanish like smoke if she let go.

She scribbled poetry in her worn notebooks, filled with half-finished thoughts and feelings, but she always crossed out the lines before you could read them. When you pout in frustration, she'd lean in with a mischievous grin, planting a peck on your nose.

Why would you ever love another?

But loving Rhaenyra wasn’t always warm sun and lazy Sunday mornings.

Some days, it felt like drowning in glitter—beautiful, but suffocating all the same.

She had a way of disappearing mid-conversation, eyes drifting to somewhere you couldn’t follow. Of changing the song halfway through, just because the vibe felt off. Of smiling like she knew something you never would.

You once caught her crying on the fire escape at 3 a.m., mascara smudged like bruises under her eyes, cigarette ash falling onto her thigh. She laughed when she saw you and said something flippant about the moon being too close and too big tonight.

She never explained what that meant. You didn’t ask.

Loving Rhaenyra was easy.

But keeping her? Keeping her was like trying to hold light in your hands.

She was the sun.

Rhaenyra brightened the room with her warm smiles and sparkling eyes. She could lift your spirits and make even the gloomiest days feel better.

But when the clouds came, that’s when the trouble started.

Ignoring your questions and sad eyes.

Vanishing for hours, sometimes days, with no explanation. How she’d come to you barefoot, cheeks flushed from the night air, smelling like her Virginia Slims and cold wind. She wouldn’t lie, exactly—she wouldn’t answer.

You knew she couldn't be tamed. She was the sun.

And the sun sets when she wants.

You were her moon.

With your big, pretty eyes—the ones she said she loved the first time she saw you. You’d caught her attention just by sitting there, quiet and still at some stranger’s party, playing with the host’s black cat.

She felt drawn to you. Over and over again, her eyes found you.

Not loud. Not reckless. Just… patient. The kind of girl who knew how to wait someone out without ever chasing.

She was the sun, golden, loud, eyes burning when looking at her too long.

But you were the moon.

Slower, quieter. But no less unpredictable.

Some nights, you lit up the whole sky.

Other nights, you disappeared in your own mind without warning—left the world to figure itself out in the dark.

And sometimes, you pulled away too hard. Said the wrong thing with a voice too calm, too cold.

Left her waiting at a café with two untouched coffees, not answering your phone, not because you didn’t care, but because caring too much made your hands shake.

You hurt her without meaning to. The way people do when they don’t know how to be held.

And she—bright, burning Rhaenyra—took every silence like a storm.

“I don’t know how you do that,” she whispered. “The most intriguing girl at the party, not even saying a word.”

You didn’t answer then. Just smiled, soft and slow. Because you knew she’d come back. Not because she had to.

But because she wanted to.

But it wasn’t that simple.

There were weeks between then and now. Weeks of "coincidences", of seeing her across crosswalks and pretending not to notice when she doubled back.

Catching her eye in the corner store while picking up oat milk and trying not to stare when she smiled.

You saw her again outside the animal food shop on Main. She had a bag of cat treats under one arm and was arguing with the cashier about whether or not cats could be pescatarian.

You almost laughed. You didn’t.

But later, at home, you looked up the answer. Just in case she asked.

Another time, you passed her in the park. She was walking someone else's dog—big, unruly, leash looped twice around her wrist. You didn’t stop, didn’t say a word.

But her eyes met yours for half a second too long. And that half-second lasted the rest of your afternoon.

It was like that for a while.

Small moments. Half-glances. Tension that felt like an unfinished sentence between you.

She was the kind of girl who lit cigarettes she never finished. You were the kind who brought extra lighters just in case.

Eventually, it added up to something.

Something like a look across a party, a quiet smile.

And then—

She crawled into bed beside you, notebook in hand. “Don’t laugh,” she said, passing it over. “This one’s about you.”

You try to bite back a smile, brushing a strand of golden hair behind her ear. "Is it the first one?" You asked quietly, not wanting to be too hopeful.

She hesitates, eyes flickering to the ceiling like the answer might be up there.

“No... But it’s the first one I didn’t cross out.”

You don’t say anything for a moment. Just take the notebook from her fingers and hold it gently, like it might burn if you’re not careful.

Rhaenyra watched as you carefully opened the notebook, her eyes following your fingers as they gently turned the pages. She had a habit of chewing on her bottom lip when she was nervous or anxious, and right now, that lip was caughtbetween her teeth.

As you read the words she had written, Rhaenyra's heart raced. She had never shown anyone her poetry before, not like this. It was a part of her soul, a piece of her that she kept hidden away from the world. But for some reason, she wanted to share it with you.

I’ve wondered why, the sun and the moon never meet only for such a fleeting moment do they hold each other

was it fate or was it a mistake when my eyes found yours the others looking away an eclipse

You looked up at her, your eyes meeting hers. In that moment, the rest of the world faded away. It was just the two of you, wrapped up in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, the poem a palpable symbol of the connection between you.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice soft and sincere. "For sharing this with me."

Rhaenyra smiled, a genuine smile that lit up her eyes. "Don't make me regret it," she teased, but there was no real bite to her words.

"It's beautiful," you murmured, your voice low and soft. "You're beautiful."

Rhaenyra felt a warmth spread through her chest at your words, a gentle heat that had nothing to do with the beer she'd been sipping earlier. She leaned in closer, her minty breath ghosting over your cheek as she whispered back,

"Beautiful... I wouldn't go that far," she murmured, her thumb brushing over your knuckles.

"Rhaenyra," you said, feeling a lump in your throat as you gazed up at her, the soft glow of the lamp casting a warm light around her. "This is... this is beautiful. I-... no one has ever," you breathed, struggling to find the right words, your heart racing with emotion, unable to finish your sentence.

Rhaenyra didn't say anything as her heart skipped a beat at seeing the glimmer of unshed tears in your pretty eyes.

Slowly, giving you time to pull back if you wanted to, she cupped your cheek, her palm warm and soft against your skin. Her thumb brushed away the tear that escaped, and she leaned closer until her forehead rested against yours.

"I don't want to make you cry."

She held you like that for a long moment, just breathing you in, feeling the gentle rise and fall of your chest against hers. Then, with a soft sigh, she pulled back just enough to look you in the eye.

She paused, searching your face, trying to gauge your reaction. Then she shrugged, a little self-consciously.

"But I wanted you to see this one. I wanted you to know..."

She trailed off, biting her lip again to find the right words. Finally, she just shook her head and laughed softly.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful... Sometimes I wonder if you're too good to be true."

With that, she closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a soft, tender kiss. It was a kiss that spoke of longing and want and something that felt dangerously like love. A kiss that made your heart race and your toes curl.

You kissed her back fiercely, your fingers tangling in her hair, holding her face close to yours. You couldn't let her pull away, not now, not when you needed her so desperately. You craved the softness of her lips, the warmth of her skin, the way her heartbeat raced against your own.

She kissed you back just as fiercely, her fingers gripping the hem of your shirt, anchoring herself to you. She poured all of her longing, all of her want, into that kiss. She wanted to devour you, to consume you, to make you a part of her.

"So pretty," you whispered against her mouth, a giddy laugh escaping your lips between kisses. Tears streamed down your cheeks, the saltiness mixing with the fresh taste of her minty lip balm. "I can't... I won't let you go... not tonight"

Your words were a breathless plea, a selfish demand. For once in your life, you wanted to be greedy. You wanted to keep her, to hold her, to make her yours. The world could wait, the future could fade away. In that moment, there was only her and you, lost in a tangle of limbs and racing hearts.

When you pulled back to whisper against her lips, your words sending shivers down her spine, Rhaenyra felt a fierce surge of emotion. She couldn't let you go either, not tonight. She refused to let this moment end.

"Then don't," she breathed, her voice low and rough with desire. "Keep me. Hold me."

Rhaenyra pushed you down onto the bed, hovering over you, her hair falling around you both like a curtain. She looked down at you with eyes that blazed with intensity, a fierce, almost feral look on her face.

"Tell me what you want," she demanded, her voice a low, breathless rasp. "Tell me how you want me, and I'll give it to you."

"I want you," you blurted out before you could stop yourself, the words spilling from your mouth like a secret longing you had held inside for too long.

The blushing glances and fleeting touches had been lovely, each one igniting a warmth in your chest. But now, as you lay there, you craved more. 

"I want you," you repeated, this time with a confidence that surprised even you. "Here. With me. Every night." Your voice shook slightly, a mix of hope and fear churning within you, ready for the possibility of rejection. The quiet space between you felt charged.

Rhaenyra's breath caught in her throat at your words, a fierce surge of emotion welling up inside her. She searched your face, her eyes roaming over your features as if trying to memorise every detail.

"Every night," she repeated softly, a hint of wonder in her voice. "You want me... here... with you."

She leaned down, pressing her forehead against yours, her lips just a hair's breadth away from your own. You could feel the heat of her breath, the racing of her heart.

"I want that too," she whispered, her voice raw and honest. "I want to wake up next to you, to fall asleep with you in my arms. I want to fight and make up with you and everything in between."

You chuckled softly, feeling a wave of relief wash over you as you gazed up at Rhaenyra, your eyes sparkling.

"Good," you whispered, your voice breathless and light. "I don't wanna get undressed for a new person all over again."

You reached up, gently tucking a stray lock of her hair behind her ear, your fingers lingering on the soft skin of her cheek.

"I don't wanna kiss someone else's neck and have to pretend it's yours..."

Your thumb brushed over her lower lip, tracing the soft, plump flesh, as you held her gaze captive with your own.

Rhaenyra shivered at your touch, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment as your thumb brushed over her lip. When she opened them again, her gaze was intense, filled with a hunger that made your heart race.

"Then don't," she breathed, her voice low and rough. "Don't pretend with anyone else. I don't want to share you."

She leaned into your touch, her cheek soft and warm against your palm. Then, suddenly, she straddled your hips, pinning you beneath her.

"I want to be the only one who gets to see you like this," she murmured, her hands sliding up your sides, pushing your shirt up and off. "The only one who gets to touch you, to taste you."

She leaned down, her breasts pressing against yours as she nipped at your neck, her teeth grazing your skin. "I want to be the only one who gets to hear you moan my name in the dark, who gets to feel you shake in my arms."

You gazed up at Rhaenyra, your heart pounding in your chest as you slid your hands slowly up the sides of her body, relishing the feel of her soft, warm skin beneath your fingertips. With a gentle tug, you pulled her white tank top off, exposing the smooth, toned curves of her torso.

Your hands eagerly sought out the soft, supple mounds of her breasts, kneading and caressing the delicate flesh. You could feel her nipples hardening beneath your fingertips as you teased and circled the sensitive peaks, drawing breathy gasps from Rhaenyra's lips.

"You are the only one," you whispered, assuring her.

"Good," she breathed, her voice ragged with need. "You're the only one I want to touch me like this."

She rocked her hips against yours, the heat of her core searing through the fabric of her thin lace panties. Her hands slid down your sides, over your stomach.

"Lift your hips," she commanded, her voice low and demanding. As you complied, she pulled your panties off in one swift motion, leaving you bare and exposed beneath her.

She took a moment to drink in the sight of you, her eyes darkening with lust. Then, with a wicked grin, she shimmied out of her panties until she was just as bare as you.

"Now, let me show you how much I want you," she purred, before trailing kisses down your body, pausing to pay attention to your breasts, before moving lower, lower, until she was nestled between your thighs.

She looked up at you, her eyes glinting with mischief and desire. "I'm going to make you scream my name until you forget every other girl's name but mine," she promised, before diving in and putting her mouth on you.

"Oh god, Rhaenyra...!" you gasped, your back arching off the bed as her tongue delved between your slick folds.

Your fingers tangled desperately in her messy hair, gripping tight as jolts of electric pleasure coursed through your veins. You could feel your hole clenching around nothing as she teased your puffy clit.

"Gods, yesss, please don't stop...!" you begged shamelessly, too lost in sensation to care how desperate you sounded. Your eyelids fluttered shut, eyes rolling back as you surrendered to the intense, building ecstasy.

Rhaenyra growled against your slick flesh, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through your core. She spread your lower lips wide open with her thumbs, exposing your most intimate parts to her greedy mouth. Her tongue delved deep, fucking into your tight channel with long, hard strokes. She lapped up your dripping arousal, moaning at the taste of your essence on her tongue.

"Fuck, you taste so good," she panted against your sex, her breath hot and heavy. "I could eat this pretty pussy for hours." To prove her point, she sealed her lips around your clit and sucked hard, flicking the sensitive bud with the tip of her tongue. Two fingers plunged knuckle-deep into your clenching hole, pumping in and out, curling to stroke that special spot inside that made your toes curl.

Rhaenyra was relentless, her tongue and fingers working in tandem to drive you to the brink of ecstasy. She could feel your walls fluttering around her invading digits, your arousal dripping down her chin as she feasted on your cunt like a woman starved.

"Mmm, you're so fucking wet," she purred, pulling back just enough to blow cool air over your soaked, throbbing sex. "I love how needy you are for me, how much your pretty little pussy is dripping."

She plunged back in, sucking your clit hard as she fucked you with three fingers now, curling them just right to hit that spongey spot inside that made you see stars. Her other hand slid up your body to pinch and roll your nipple between her fingers, sending sparks of pleasure-pain straight to your core.

"That's it, baby," she encouraged, her voice muffled against your sex.

"Holyfuckingshiitt," you whined desperately, your back arching sharply off the bed as her tongue delved deep into your dripping, aching core.

The obscene noises of her feasting on your pussy filled the room, mingling with your loud moans and gasps. She could feel your arousal dripping down her chin, coating her fingers as they pumped mercilessly in and out of your clenching, greedy hole.

Rhaenyra could feel your walls starting to flutter and clench around her fingers, your body tensing as your climax approached. She doubled her efforts, sucking hard on your clit as she fucked you with three fingers now, her thumb rubbing tight circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves.

"So pretty, baby," she urged, her voice a low, rough growl against your sex. "Come on my tongue."

She could feel your body trembling, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps. She knew you were close. With a final, hard suck on your clit, she pushed you over the edge.

Your pussy clenched down hard on her fingers as your orgasm crashed over you, your juices gushing out to coat her hand and drip down her wrist. Rhaenyra moaned against your flesh, the sound vibrating through you as she worked you through your high, her fingers pumping slowly as your walls spasmed and fluttered around them.

Finally, as the aftershocks started to subside, she pulled back, her face glistening with your arousal. She licked her lips, savouring the taste of your release.

"Fuck, that was so hot," she panted, crawling up your body to capture your lips in a searing kiss. You could taste yourself on her tongue, making your head spin.

You gazed up at Rhaenyra, your chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath after the intense orgasm she'd just given you. Your faces were both glistening with the evidence of your arousal.

"Rhaenyra," you breathed out, your voice hoarse and shaky. You reached up, gently cupping her cheek, your thumb brushing over her swollen lower lip, smearing the slickness there. "How can I possibly repay the favour?" You giggled breathlessly, smirking as you bit your lip.

Your eyes shone with devotion and desire as you looked up at her, a soft blush colouring your cheeks.

Rhaenyra smirked at your words, a wicked gleam in her eye. She nipped at your thumb, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin.

"Oh, I can think of a few ways," she purred, her voice low and full of promise.

She swung a leg over to straddle your face, her dripping pussy hovering just inches above your mouth. With one hand, she gripped the headboard for support, while the other slid down to spread her lower lips open, exposing her needy hole to you.

"Go on, baby," she breathed, her voice heavy with desire. "Put that pretty mouth of yours to work. I want to feel your tongue inside me, worshipping my cunt."

She rocked her hips, rubbing her slick folds against your lips, coating them with her arousal. The scent of her desire filled your nostrils, musky and intoxicating.

"Fuck," you breathed out, youe voice already rough with want. "Such a pretty pink pussy."

You leaned in, your tongue darting out to take a long, slow lick up her dripping slit. You moaned at the first taste of her, the flavour exploding on your tongue - tangy and sweet. You licked again, more firmly this time, your tongue parting her lower lips to delve inside, to lap up the slickness gathered there.

"Yes, just like that," Rhaenyra gasped, her grip on the headboard tightening. "Don't be shy, pretty girl."

You could only moan in response, the sound vibrating against her sensitive flesh as you obeyed her command. You licked and sucked, your tongue swirling around her clit before dipping back inside her hot, tight channel. You could feel her arousal dripping down your chin, coating your neck, and you loved every second of it. You wanted to be covered in her essence.

Your hands gripped her ass, pulling her harder against you, encouraging her to grind on your face, to take her pleasure from you. You wanted to feel her come undone above you, to hear your name falling from her lips like a prayer and a plea.

So you licked and sucked and worshipped her pussy with everything you had, your arousal building with each of her breathy moans and gasps.

Rhaenyra threw her head back, a low moan tearing from her throat as she ground her dripping cunt harder against your eager mouth. Her hips rolled in a sensual rhythm, smearing her slick arousal all over your lips and chin, your cheeks and nose, marking you with her essence.

"Yes, fuck yes, just like that," she panted, her voice ragged and desperate. "Lick my pussy, baby. Suck on my clit. Make me come all over your pretty face."

She reached down, tangling her fingers in your hair, holding you in place as she rutted against you. Her grip tightened, bordering on painful, as her pleasure increased. She could feel her climax building, the coil of heat in her belly winding tighter and tighter.

"That's it, don't stop," she urged, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. "I'm gonna... fuck... I'm gonna come!"

With a final, hard grind of her hips, she came undone. Her pussy clenched and spasmed, gushing her release all over your face and into your mouth. She cried out your name, a ragged scream of ecstasy, as her orgasm crashed over her in intense waves.

You gazed up at Rhaenyra, your vision blurred by the tears of effort stinging your eyes and the slickness of her release coating your face. Strands of your hair clung to your skin, damp with sweat beads. You blinked rapidly, trying to keep your eyes on her.

You couldn't form any coherent words, too lost in the haze of lust and desire. All you could manage was a low, guttural moan against her sensitive flesh, the sound vibrating through her as you desperately licked and lapped up every drop of her sweet nectar. You couldn't get enough of her taste, her scent, the feel of her trembling body above you.

Your fingers dug into the firm globes of her ass, pulling her harder against your mouth, holding her in place as you worshipped her with your tongue. You wanted to be smothered by her, consumed by her pleasure, a willing sacrifice to the princess above you.

As her shudders began to subside, you looked up at her with hazy, half-lidded eyes, a drunk expression on your face. You opened your mouth to speak, but all that came out was a breathless, incoherent babble.

"Mmm... Rhaenyra... you... taste... so... good..." you managed to stammer out, your voice rough and wrecked.

With a low, almost feral growl, you sealed my lips around her clit once more, sucking gently as you slipped two fingers back inside her fluttering channel. Helping her ride out the final waves of her intense orgasm.

Rhaenyra collapsed against the headboard, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. She looked down at you with hooded, satisfied eyes, a lazy smirk playing on her kiss-swollen lips.

"Fuck, that was good," she panted, her voice hoarse from screaming your name. She reached down, gently cupping your cheek, her thumb brushing over your lower lip. You could feel the sticky evidence of her release smeared across your skin, and the taste of her arousal still lingered on your tongue.

She lifted her body off you, her hair a wild mess of damp blonde strands around her face. Her eyes were hazy and unfocused, the blue irises nearly swallowed up by the black of her pupils. She had a fucked-out, blissed-out look on her face, and you knew you were the cause.

Rhaenyra leaned in closer, until her forehead rested against yours. You could feel the heat radiating off her skin, the way her chest rose and fell with each shuddering breath.

"Look at you," she murmured, reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from your face, her fingers trailing over your cheek. "You're a fucking mess, and it's all because of me."

She leaned down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, tasting herself on your mouth.

Pulling you with her so that you were tangled together, your limbs entwined, your bodies pressed close. She wrapped her arms around you, holding you tight against her as if she never wanted to let you go.

You giggled breathlessly as Rhaenyra pulled you on top of her, instinctively wrapping your leg around her waist. Nuzzling your face into the crook of her neck, you inhaled deeply, savouring the scent of her perfume mixed with the musky aroma of your lovemaking. A contented hum escaped your lips as you breathed in her comforting, familiar fragrance.

"Mmhh," you hummed, your voice still rough from the passionate cries that had spilt from your mouth moments before. You pressed soft, lingering kisses along the column of her throat, tasting the salt on her skin. Your fingers traced idle patterns on the smooth expanse of her back.

You could feel the steady thrum of her heartbeat against your chest, the rise and fall of her lungs as she caught her breath. In that moment, wrapped up in her arms, you felt a sense of contentment and belonging. As if you were exactly where you were meant to be, with the person you were always meant to be with.

Rhaenyra held you close, stroking your hair as you nuzzled into her neck. She could feel the soft, even breaths you took, the gentle kisses you pressed against her skin. A sense of peace and rightness settled over her, a feeling of coming home.

"You're so fucking pretty," she murmured, tilting your chin up to look at her. Her eyes searched yours, a soft smile playing on her lips. "I don't ever want to let you go."

"I won't go anywhere... not this time," you murmured, intertwining your fingers with hers. You gazed into her intense blue eyes, your own reflecting the same depth of feeling.

A small, shy smile tugged at the corners of your mouth as you whispered, "I'll stay. If you do the same..."

You sealed your promise with a soft, lingering kiss, pouring all your devotion into it. "Just don't ever ask me to leave... because I won't."

Rhaenyra's heart clenched at your words, a fierce surge of emotion welling up inside her. She knew in that moment that she would move heaven and earth to keep you by her side. No matter what it took, she would make this work.

No more late nights spent outside without a word, leaving you in the dark. No more dead phone batteries, your concerned calls going unanswered.

"I won't," she vowed, her voice low and fierce. "You're mine now, and I don't share what's mine."

Rhaenyra returned your smile, her eyes shining with unshed tears of happiness. She squeezed your hand, reinforcing the promise you'd just made. She held you close, your naked bodies pressed skin to skin, heart to heart.

"Stay with me," she breathed against your mouth.

"I'll stay," you breathed out against her lips and smiled.

You won’t hold back anymore. You’ve made up your mind to stay, even when your feelings get too strong and when she shines so brightly that it feels like you might get hurt. Maybe there’s something good about being warm, about enjoying her attention, even if it makes you feel a little scared.

Rhaenyra smiled softly, her heart swelling with a warmth she had never known before. She pulled you closer, your naked bodies moulding together like two puzzle pieces finally clicking into place.

"Good," she murmured, nuzzling into your hair. "Because I don't think I could let you go, even if I wanted to."

[aeralux]

You just devour every time I swear

sundress | aemond targaryen

Summary: the annual targaryen summer party, a sundress, and almost getting caught.

Pairing: modern!aemond targaryen x fiancé!reader

Fic warnings: smut (MDNI), rich boy!aemond, semi-public sex, no panties and the heat has aemond acting dizzy, quickie in the sun/shenanigans in the garden, sundress kink, oral (f), fingering (f), being taken from behind, Aemond get's a little nasty and doesnt care that you're sweaty, almost getting caught, realising that you do infact like fucking when there's high stakes.

Word count: 11.2k

authors note: summers here and so am i with some smut, no beta just vibes and the will to live (ill catch and mistakes later and rage about it to myself)

masterlist

The Red Keep Estate

Aemond wasn’t sure if it was the relentless glare of the sun that was causing the dull, pulsing ache behind his eye, or the more likely culprit—the oppressive weight of yet another year spent sitting stiffly at this table in his mother’s garden, surrounded by family members who he’d rather lose another eye than see again.

It was a common tradition, something that had been going on much longer than he had even drawn breath, that everyone would gather at the estate during the summer for a week and pretend that they didn’t hate each other for a few moments. Every summer without fail, he’d drive out here from his place in the city, sit there and pretend he didn’t loathe his half-sister and the entitled brood she’d brought with her, nor his uncle's side of the family with the cousins that hated him. Truth be told, even his own siblings tested the last of his patience, Aegon and Daeron were too similar to mesh with his personality, and Helaena was too drawn in to be decent company.

It was something that he truly dreaded, that was until you came into his life.

While, no, he still didn’t ever want to come home for the summer and sit with his family, the idea of being there was made at least a little sweeter on his tongue by the inclusion of you in his life. Despite dating for 3 years, and now engaged, he hesitated at first to even bring him with you on these trips, he feared what proximity to his family might undo what the two of you had so carefully built together—feared that the venom and rot that clung to his bloodline might somehow seep into you too. That a single weekend at the estate might unravel everything, reduce the rare calm he’d found in you into ashes.

But surprisingly you took to the challenge easily.

You often softened his edges, dulling the sharpness he carried into every interaction he was forced to have, and gave him something to focus on that wasn’t raw frustration or contempt for his family. Aemond was truly and desperately thankful for you in his life, not just in this regard, but in every way possible.

While he usually didn’t want to attend most years, this year was especially filled with reluctance, but for good reason. At the beginning of summer, he had proposed to you, and he was set on making this summer about just the two of you. Wanting to celebrate your life together, relaxing, and getting things in place to eventually start planning a wedding. Being both busy people, all he wanted was to jet away to some sun-struck island in Essos and pretend that he couldn’t hear his phone ringing for 3-4 glorious weeks.

But things hadn’t gone to plan, and he was still kicking himself for it.

Just days before your departure, the two of you in your bedroom—your suitcases open and half-filled on the bed as you moved quickly between drawers, deciding what to bring, picking out his clothes because he thought you dressed him best. All while he sat in the bay window, silent as the night with arms resting on his knees, his gaze fixed on you while you fluttered around like his little butterfly.

“What about this one, baby?” You had mused while holding up a soft blue dress, the fabric thin for the weather and silk, floor length and low backed, “Is it too much?”

Aemond could have melted at the way you turned from the closet; eyebrows pulled in that way he loved as you looked to him for an opinion. You never realized how beautiful you were in the quiet moments. How he could fall in love with you all over again just watching you stand in your shared space, caring about the little things.

“No, my love…” He sighed softly, standing up from the bay window to approach you, his hands meeting your waist instantly as he pressed himself to your back, “However, it would look a lot better if we were on the beach, or by the sea, not at my mother’s house.”

You only smiled softly at him, lowering the dress as you looked back at him, a gentle twitch to your lips that had him relaxing instantly, “It won’t be that bad…”

“You know I hate it.” He sighed softly, head dipping down to press a kiss to your nape, “I can see my mother whenever during the year, the rest of them… I can live without…”

You didn’t answer straight away.

Instead, you hung the dress back into your closet before turning in his arms, a sweet sigh passing your lips your own wrapped around his neck. You tilted your head slightly, face soft and fingers sinking into the back of his long hair. Trying to calm his frustration in any way you could, fingers brushing the back of his scalp in a soothing rhythm.

His eye had closed at your touch.

“I know,” you whispered, and that was all it took—no rebuttal, no platitudes. Just quiet understanding. That was always the difference with you. “We only have to stay for a week, max, then what about we go on a smaller vacation, before you have to go back to work, hm?”

If he had the strength, he would have cancelled the whole bloody trip, and taken you to that island for the whole time instead. Somewhere warm and blue and so far away from his family that he might have forgotten their names eventually. Somewhere your skin would taste of salt and sunlight, and he could pretend that the rest of the world didn’t exist.

He imagined you in that blue dress you just showed, walking barefoot through the pale sand of Volantis, the wind playing with your hair, your laughter carrying in the breeze. He imagined the two of you tangled in white sheets of your bed beneath an open window, your moans getting lost to the sea, the ocean murmuring back just beyond the glass.

He imagined no phones, no work, just long days, warm nights, and the chance to breathe with you.

But instead, he’d nodded, leaning down as he kissed your forehead and said, “Alright.”

And just like that, the island faded into a dream.

Now here the two of you were, stuck at his mother’s estate for about a week and a half, surrounded by everyone he hated.

As expected from his mother, the garden was in full bloom, the air heavy with the sickly-sweet scent of everything that grew on the ground. But none of it could disguise his barely concealed disdain for the situation still. Aemond still dreamed to be on a beach, but instead, he was here, jaw tight, hands folded, playing his part beneath the merciless summer sun.

He sat stiffly beneath the shade of the veranda, the collar of linen his shirt already sticking to his neck. At your instance this morning, his hair was up to try and cool him and he nursed some sweating cold drink his mother thrust into his hand.

He had little interest in talking to his family who were sparse around the grounds, his brothers off somewhere on the other side of the estate most likely getting high. His mother tucked down by the firepit, sharing conversation with his half-sister and their new baby. While his uncle was chatting mindlessly to the welp of his nephew, the familiar bunch of brown curls made Aemond want to launch the crystal glass he held at them.

So instead, his eye settled on you, chatting to his sister with the same thought he’s had for weeks; he wasn’t supposed to be here. That it was supposed to be just you and him alone. Not surrounded by his brother’s booming laughter echoing through the estate like a war drum, or rolling his eye at his uncle’s passive-aggressive barbs wrapped towards his side of the family, or his mother’s carefully worded guilt.

From his seat, he could see you clearly across the garden, standing with his Helaena near one of the tables of food laid out for everyone. Your posture open, your expression kind, as always. You laughed softly at something Helaena said, showing her the ring on your finger while tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you listened to her fawning.

Aemond watched the way the sunlight caught you, how natural you looked even here, even surrounded by people who barely tried to hide their judgement towards each other.

He envied your patience sometimes, your grace.

And then, there was that dress.

The blue one you’d held up for him in your shared bedroom, voice playful, eyes bright. He hadn’t forgotten. He never would. And now, seeing it on you, draped so deliciously over your form, catching the summer breeze, it stirred something low and possessive in him, curling in the pit of his stomach.

You were truly radiant to look at even from here, all light limbs and grace. He never got the chance to ever just look from a distance, be he ate it up, the way one moment you leaned down to look at something your sister-in-law pointed out in the flower beds, and the next you twirled gently, fingers dancing across a cluster of blooms. His lips twitching as your laughter rang loud.

Aemond couldn’t look away, he didn’t care who else was watching, you were his fiancé and he’d look at you as much as he pleased.

The soft blue silk hugged your body in all the right places, loose enough to seem delicate but not so loose that it hid anything from a trained eye—his eye. The low back dipped scandalously, your skin glistening faintly under the sun, which he knew was a salty mix of sweat and the vanilla oil you put on this morning. The way the fabric shifted with every step made something inside him still.

He knew he was looking particularly hard, but it was something to do while he ignored everyone else, then he saw it. It was a single moment, a trick of movement. A subtle shift of the fabric as you stepped sideways. There was no lining of your usual panties, no outline beneath the waist, nothing beneath.

Nothing.

His breath hitched, his jaw tightening with restraint and the glass in his hand suddenly felt too fragile, too full. You weren’t wearing anything under the dress. He swallowed hard, gaze darkening, his eye dragging down your silhouette with a different kind of focus now. Everything else around him blurred—no more idle chatter, no clinking glasses or rustling leaves.

Just you. The curve of your hip as the silk slid over it. The gentle press of your breasts beneath the fabric, untethered and entirely his to imagine. The faintest imprint of your body when you turned toward the sun, arms stretched as you lifted your hair to cool your neck.

Did you do it on purpose?

He wouldn’t put it past you, you were clever like that and quietly bold. While you were never one for unnecessary attention, you did know how to drive him mad without a single word.

His hand flexed involuntarily around the glass, and he had to force his breathing to slow.

The idea of you wandering around his mother’s garden like that, unapologetically free, a secret beneath silk, set every nerve alight. It was torture, beautiful, exquisite torture.

It was like you could feel him looking from across the way as you turned your head to him, your eyes locking with his for a single, knowing second.

And in that second, Aemond knew you knew.

You smiled.

Just the softest curve of your lips, but to Aemond, it was a detonation powerful enough to knock the air from his lungs. You knew that he’d seen, that he was looking, that he couldn’t not look.

The way your head tilted slightly as you turned back to Helaena, the way your fingers played idly with the fabric of your dress as you listened—it was all intentional now.

Not for the others, not for the garden, not for the family sipping wine and gossiping between each other. This was just for him, a private performance only he could appreciate from across the perfectly manicured lawn.

Aemond felt something dark stir in his chest—want, frustration, and a deep, aching need to be anywhere else with you. Somewhere far from all of this pretence. Somewhere he could peel that dress from your body with the care of a collector unwrapping silk, not in haste, but in worship. Somewhere your laughter wouldn’t echo politely in a curated garden, but loud and breathless in a room where he could pin you to the edge of a sunlit window and finally, finally, take what you so clearly wanted him to.

The dress moved again as you stepped away from the two of you stepped away from something Helaena was showing you. He could see more now, the way the dress clung to your waist, the curve of your hips, and lower, the long line of your thighs pressed close together beneath the whisper-thin material.

And gods, there was nothing between you and the silk, not even a scrap of lace hugging the outline of you.

He wasted no time as he placed his glass down on a table, jaw flexing softly as he crossed the garden with quiet precision, his stride purposeful yet unhurried.

The afternoon sun beat down around him, but he felt cool, focused, locked in on you and nothing else. You were still standing with his sister, back partially turned, posture relaxed but too perfect to be unintentional. Helaena was still mid-thought, likely describing some dream or curious insect she’d found near the hedge.

You were nodding, listening with that soft expression that made people feel like the only one in the room. But Aemond knew better. That wasn’t real focus—not when you were glancing toward him every few moments from the corner of your eye, barely tilting your chin, barely shifting your weight, just waiting.

He didn’t stop when he reached you. Didn’t offer a polite smile. Just brushed one hand lightly along the small of your back and leaned in close, low enough that only you could hear.

“I know what you’re doing,” he murmured, his voice rough, breath warm against the shell of your ear.

You froze for the smallest fraction of a second.

Anyone else might’ve missed it—but he didn’t, the slight pause, the way your breath caught just barely. The way your fingers flexed by your sides. Then, just as quickly, you recovered—offering Helaena a small, practised smile, nodding gently to whatever she’d just said, even as Aemond’s presence curved around you like a second skin.

He let the silence stretch between the three of you a moment longer before speaking again, this time to his sister.

“Helaena,” he said smoothly, stepping just a little closer, “Would you excuse us for a moment?”

Helaena blinked up at him, always dreamlike, never quite anchored to the present. “Of course,” she said without question, her attention already drifting elsewhere, perhaps to the butterflies gathering near the stone fountain or a shadow falling across a petal in the wrong direction.

She wandered off without further comment.

You didn’t move.

Now it was just the two of them.

You turned to face him, finally, and your expression was soft. No smile, not at first—just calm, steady, like you’d been waiting. There was no defiance in your eyes. No games. Only warmth. Maybe a little shyness. Maybe a little more.

His gaze moved over you, the way the neckline of your dress skimmed the tops of your breasts, the way the silk followed the line of your body with every breath. The way the light passed through it in places towards the end of the skirt.

“I should be angry,” he said quietly, his voice lower now, more serious. “Or at least annoyed.”

You looked up at him, still calm. “Are you?”

He hesitated. Then, after a pause, allowed himself the truth.

“No.” Your lips curved, just slightly, it wasn’t a smirk, nor was it teasing. Just soft, a delicate move of your lips.

As if you knew he was trying very hard to keep himself still.

“I wasn’t trying to start anything,” you said. “It’s just too hot out here, and it's more comfortable this way.”

“I know,” He sighed, that was the maddening part.

There was nothing calculated in your choice. Not a trap. Not a test. Just instinct. And yet it left him feeling like a match held too close to a flame.

He watched you for a moment longer, taking in the way your skin glowed faintly with the heat of the sun, and the breeze fluttered your dress just enough to remind him why he was here.

He reached for your hand, his touch gentle but firm, fingers curling around yours with a soft tug to come with him. You let him like always take it without hesitation, your body falling into step beside him as if the two of you had done this a thousand times before. But this time felt different, this time, he didn’t bother with subtlety.

He didn’t speak as you moved through the garden together.

The afternoon was warm and close, the sunlight broken into patterns by the dense latticework of vines and trellises the further went down his mother’s garden. Petals falling from overgrown blooms to gather along the gravel like quiet confetti.

You passed the manicured hedges that had thousands spent on them, passed by the ornate dragon head fountain his grandfather had insisted on decades ago, and finally, further still, down to where the air grew quieter and the garden became more unruly.

At the far end of the estate, where the formal landscaping gave way to something looser, greener, lived the greenhouse—an enormous, stone structure that was left untouched, half-shrouded by climbing ivy. His mother adored the look of it as it was, and he knew spent her mornings there, thinking and pretending the rest of the house didn’t exist.

The air here smelled of earth and green things, of the memory of rain, even though it hadn’t stormed in days. Aemond led you to the back of the greenhouse, surrounded by hedges and completely covered, where there lay old stone tables that probably once got used for gatherings, but now left untouched in favour of everything towards the front of the garden.

And he couldn’t help but find himself instantly pressing you against the nearest stone table.

The stone tables behind his mother’s greenhouse were warmed by the sun, nestled deep in the lush bushes and florals she kept here, and completely detached from the rest of the garden party. The sun was just as merciless out here, at the bottom of the garden, as it was near all the tables, the familiar bite on your shoulders and the sweat beading in your hair reminding you exactly what time of year it was.

The sun, however, showed no such restraint.

It was just as merciless down here—if not more so.

The bottom of the garden trapped the heat like a basin, and you could feel pressing in on you the longer you stayed where you were. The familiar bite of the sun nipped at the tops of your shoulders, even through the silk of your sundress, all while sweat began to bead along your hairline, dampening the fine strands at the nape of your neck. The air was thick, steeped in the scent of grass, flowers, and just sheer heat.

While Aemond dragged you down here, you couldn't help but look over your shoulder, just subtle enough to confirm no one was watching, no one had followed.

But even if they had, it would have been difficult to spot anything beyond the foliage of colour and growth. His mother had planted this place like a secret, and now you were tucked in it like one.

And you were glad for it because Aemond had turned into a man possessed.

His usual control had evaporated the moment you’d slipped away with him, holding himself off just until he got out of sight of everyone else.

Now his hands gripped your waist with a quiet urgency, fingers flexing on you like he was trying to memorise the shape of you with each pull. He really wasted no time as he pressed you into the edge of the table, his mind taken over with the kind of surety that made your breath catch, his lips finding the soft spot just beneath your ear, his touch trailing like fire over your dress and down to your thighs.

His hands weren’t still, they couldn’t be.

They skimmed your sides in slow, desperate passes, fingers brushing the fabric of your dress, then slipping lower to the backs of your thighs. Digits sinking into the silk of your dress and flesh, you felt the strength coiled beneath his skin as he gripped you, the subtle shift of his body as he gathered you into his arms. With a smooth pull, he lifted you effortlessly onto the stone table, your back arching slightly at the sudden contrast between your heated skin and the rough stone beneath.

You clung to his shoulders, half for balance and half because you couldn’t bear to let him go, your fingers curling desperately into the linen fabric of his shirt. Your legs parted instinctively as he pushed between them. Your world was narrowed to just him, his breath against your neck, the heat of his palms as they roamed your body with reverence and hunger in equal measure.

“Aemond—” You giggled softly, head tilting back as his lips feasted on your skin with wet kisses, “Baby, people are going to realise we’re missing…”

It was a soft familiar grunt he gave as his lips left your neck and instead silenced you with a kiss—breathless, tasting the drink he had earlier and just pure want.

“Don’t fucking care.” He grunted again between kisses, his hand tugging at the material of your sundress, pulling it up to your thighs. “You’re the one that decided to go fucking commando for a family get-together.”

His lips moved over yours hungrily, one hand threading into your hair to tug at the warm strand, the other pressing firm against your lower back to keep you close. A shiver rolling down your spine as his fingers brushed the skin exposed by your dress.

Every part of him was alive with tension, his jaw tight, breath shallow, touch urgent as if he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to worship you or devour you right on the table. You could feel the hammer of his heart where your bodies pressed together, wild beneath layers of linen.

His hand fisted in the hem of your sundress, dragging it higher with rough impatience, the delicate fabric bunching at your hips as he pressed forward with each kiss. The backs of your thighs met the warm stone again, but it was short-lived as your legs came up around his hips to keep him from tipping you back onto the table completely.

You gasped into his mouth when his fingers sunk into your thighs pulling them higher on his hips; fingers firm, exploratory, like he needed to map every inch of you again, despite knowing it by heart. He pulled back from the kiss just enough to look at you, and gods—his eye was dark, blown wide with desire, the faintest flush colouring his pale cheeks from you and the sun. His hair, silvery and soft, had fallen into his face from his bun, strands catching in the corners of his lips before you reached up and brushed them back with trembling fingers.

“Gods, you test my fucking patience sometimes…” He murmured, hand skimming up your thigh to tug you as close as possible, your arms coming up around his neck. “No panties, really?” He asked again.

“I told you, it’s too hot…” You smiled faintly, your lips meeting the corner of his mouth as his head angled to you, his face furrowed with lust and annoyance. “Plus, you wouldn’t have even noticed if you weren’t staring at me so hard.”

“Can you blame me?” He hummed faintly, fingers skimming up the inside of your thigh, gripping onto the softness there, “You’re the only thing interesting to look at here, walking around in your pretty dress.”

His lips finally met your neck—slow, unhurried. His mouth moved lower, to your shoulder, brushing against the thin strap of your dress, biting ever so softly at the skin there. His hand at your waist slipped beneath the fabric, fingers finding the bare skin of your lower back. His thumb dragged across it, slowly, like he was relearning it all by touch.

His slow descent down was like a man going to pray, fingers gripping skin, lips knocking loose straps, breath meeting the tops of your breasts. It was sheer worship from Aemond the lower and lower he sunk into the ground beneath him, your body sat like his personal goddess on the stone table as he did.

You felt like something sacred in his arms.

You exhaled softly the lower he got, fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt as your head tilted back just enough to let him continue.

While the sun had warmed your skin, his mouth made it feel hotter.

Everything else around you, the garden, the house, the soft rustle of trees. It blurred out behind the closeness of his breath. You ate it up, leaning into it without resistance, your palms moving and bracing behind you, chin tilted down to watch him. He looked at you like you had no idea how divine you looked there and it nearly undid him.

Aemond’s fingers dug into your thighs with a bruising grip as he eventually dropped to his knees in front of you, it was like he physically couldn’t bear another second without having you. He didn’t care that gravel bit into him—sharp against his knees, probably tearing at the fabric of his linen trousers.

But he didn’t seem to feel it, and if he did he didn’t care.

He reached for your knees first, thumbs stroking the inside of them slowly before he slid his hands up your legs, insistent on pushing your dress higher. His eyes feasted on the exposed skin as the silk bunched in the cradle of your hips, exposing more of your thighs to the warm air, Aemond’s attention never wavering.

And gods, the sight of him—there, between your legs, silver hair falling loose around his face, his hands gripping your thighs—stole the breath from your lungs.

He didn’t speak.

All that mattered at that moment to him was you, your body laid out before him on the table, flushed and breathless in the shadow of the greenhouse.

Your eyes widened as the motion hit you all at once, his urgency, his hunger, and your breath caught somewhere between your ribs as you leaned further back instinctively. Your palms flatten more against the warm stone table to steady yourself, your bottom half tilting to meet him without thought.

The sun beat down through the branches above, casting a shadow on the two of you, but it was the heat between your legs that had you reeling. The warm air licked against your exposed skin, brushing over your inner thighs, and your core—which was already damp with anticipation, already aching for him.

The small breeze there felt absolutely obscene in how intimate it was, catching the slickness gathered there, making you painfully aware of just how ready you were.

It was no secret that Aemond loved sinking between your thighs, feeling your legs bent around his broad shoulders, thighs parting as he pulled you closer, anchoring you to him with a desperation that made your core flutter.

The stone bit into your skin; but it was forgotten the moment his hands shoved the rest of your dress up—hands rough, impatient—bunching the fabric around your hips in one swift motion.

Aemond didn’t pause, didn’t breathe.

His mouth was on you almost instantly, lips dragging along the inside of your thigh in frantic, open-mouthed kisses, warming up the already hot skin there even further. It was circling desperate the way his breathing came in sharp bursts out his nose, like he was barely holding himself together while also breathing you in.

He wasted no time as his arms hooked around your legs, hoisting them over his shoulders with ease, locking you in place as he pressed closer. So close you could feel the need in him, the hunger, the desperation to taste you, to lose himself in your cunt.

He was starving.

“Baby,” One of your hands flew down to his head, fingers sinking into his soft hair to try and stop him, “I’m all sweaty, are you sure you don’t want to wait—”

“I really…,” He glanced up at you as he pulled your legs tighter around his shoulders, lips following keenly and shifting your hips to the edge of the table, closer and closer to the wetness gathering on your inner thighs, “…do not give a shit”

“Aemond…” You giggled softly, your face heating up as you tried to nudge his head away from your cunt, “Are you sure…”

He only tutted before he dove in properly, his eye closing slightly as his tongue slid out to lick a strip up your core, fingers digging further into your thighs. As always, it was instant the way he drew sounds from you, your lips parting with an airy moan, and fingers twitching in his hair as he started to lick you up. Aemond was always fond of going down on you, it wasn’t uncommon for him to wake up for work slightly earlier than needed and sink under your shared covers to bury his head in between your thighs, and it seemed like being hidden at the bottom of his family’s estate was no different.

His tongue glided between your folds with the eagerness of someone who was destined to spend the rest of his life drinking you up, fingers grasping at your thigh as his tongue circled and sucked at your clit. His mouth opened wider to accommodate his tongue travelling down to tease at your entrance. Aemond knew how to love you in many ways, but his favourite was with his mouth, wasting no time as he dipped into your entrance and started to thrust his silver tongue in and out of you, curling the appendage with each push in.

Your breathing stuttered in your chest as you shifted on the rough stone under you, hips pushing forward towards his mouth and tongue, small hiccups of pleasure spilling out as your fingers tightened in his hair. You couldn’t help but roll and shift your hips with him, chasing every single flick and movement of his head.

His tongue slipped in and out with ease into your gummy walls, nose nudging your clit while he tasted you. Your throat begged to let any of the noises building in your chest out, your teeth sinking into your lip to muffle each pant, each whine, each moan. Aemond had your toes curling in your sandals at the feeling, your heels digging into his back to draw him even closer, the burning spreading up your abdomen, forcing soft pants out of you.

“Oh gods…” You managed to moan out softly, the sound meshing with the distant call of birds and the breeze as you bloomed under his touch. “Fuck, baby, we’re going to get caught…”

"Mmm," Aemond hummed against you, ignoring your protests and worries as his eye lazily looked up at you. Watching you unfold under his touch with a greedy look in his eye. He was as into this as you, his pupil blown out and his nose glinting with the wetness of being buried in your cunt, ready to drown in you if you’d let him.

Between the heat of the outside and burning in your core, you were a mess on the table, drowning from the inside out as you felt the sweat start to gather more and more. It beaded on your neck and ran down your spine, gathered behind your knees, but you couldn’t bring yourself to push him away. You were as needy as him, as greedy as him, and it was too good to give up, even if you risked getting caught.

It was filthy, but the idea of that alone has your core fluttering even more around his tongue.

Aemond had found that rhythm that had you writhing, shifting, begging, and wishing you could moan freely into the air. Everything sparked the muscles in your legs to twitch in Aemond’s hold, thighs squeezing his head slightly as you were pushed closer and closer to your peak. It was equal measures of utterly delicious as it was sheer depravity.

The pressure in your stomach was building in a steady upsurge, budding and blooming like the flowers around you and curling up your abdomen like roots taking hold. It was getting harder and harder to keep every single noise in, and that feeling only grew as one of his hands slipped down from your hips, fingers creeping along your thigh with purpose. You knew what he was doing, but it still had you whining between your teeth all the same.

As his tongue slipped out your walls, he hummed like was eating his favourite meal, that look in his eye getting stronger as he decided to swipe back up to your clit, sucking and nipping in a way that had your hand flying finally to your mouth. While one of your hands tugged at his strands urgently, the other flew to cover your lips, teeth sinking into the skin there to finally moan out into your palm.

You knew it was coming before you could even say anything, and he had no shame as he teased your entrance with the tip of a finger. His touch was light and teasing, as he prodded at the puffy folds with gentle pressure.

“Do you want one, or two, my love?" he murmured against you, his bottom lip slightly pulled back on your clit as he asked.

Your eyes briefly looked up to the sky at that, like you were begging for the gods to grant you mercy from the demon buried face first in your cunt, but all you could do what take whatever he was giving you on the chin. A small whine bubbling in your throat as you looked back down at him. Your palm left your lips briefly to give him a response.

“Two…” You couldn’t help yourself, between his lips kissing softly at your clit and his fingers brushing softly at your core, you just couldn’t help yourself.

He chuckled slightly at you, amused by your insistence despite the situation. The sound vibrated against you, a shiver rolling up your slick spine at the feeling.

"Greedy girl," He murmured with a nip to your bud, his tone low and filled with promise.

With that, his fingers began to slowly push into you, gently but persistently, as he sunk each bump in, his movements slow like he wanted you to feel every single ridge. You could he wanted to make you feel every touch and sensation fully. "Is that what you needed, love?"

Your lips parted with a choked breath; brows furrowed with pleasure as he scissored his deft fingers in your sweet cunt, this mouth working in tandem to tug you closer and closer to that sweet abyss waiting at the end.

The hand that had been covering your mouth was forgotten, grasping onto your knee instead. Your nails sank into the sun-reddened skin as you mewled and whined softly under his caress. The hand that was tangled in his strands moved back behind you, bracing you again, to help shift your hips to the very edge of the table; uncaring that your lower spine was screaming.

You were tight around his fingers, walls clenching and relaxing the closer and closer you got to your end, it was sweet blissful torture rolled into one. Aemond didn’t stop, he didn’t hesitate, the sound of your mewls egging him on and on, curling his fingers to brush that spot inside of you as he lapped and lapped like a man completely parched of water.

The two of you were out in the open but you felt like you were in a pressure chamber the way your skin slicked and you shook on the table. Your lungs desperate for air and your body begging for release. The blooming heat from before had transformed into a blistering sun in your stomach, one that was fraying your nerves and burning at your core with a power that only Aemond could give.

The world seemed to narrow down to the sensation of him—his hands, his weight, the way his breath mingled with yours. Each movement, each press of his fingers, stoked the fire deeper, a slow and relentless burning that threatened to unravel you entirely.

It was sudden the way you broke.

You came with a broken, desperate whine, your head thrown back in helpless surrender for him. Every muscle tightening and trembling as waves of it crashed through you. Your breath hitched, ragged and shallow, as the world tilted and blurred for a few seconds.

The moment stretched into silence as his mouth started to slow down, and you clung to that feeling of lingering warmth, shivering with exhaustion and the drawn-out heat, your heartbeat pounding in your ears like a quiet, steady drum.

Aemond pulled away from your core with a look in his eye, the lower half of his face soaked with your slick as he looked up at you. He often looked at you like you were magic, some kind of personal goodness for him to worship, but now he looked at you like he was ready to give his soul to see you. You were practically a puddle on the table, face flushed beyond measure, hair curling at your temples from the sweat, nipples pebbled and pressing against the silk of your sundress. He had undone you in every way possible, and the worst part of all?

He wasn’t done.

“Baby…” You panted softly watching as your legs slipped off his shoulders, his body rising with a hum as his free hand moved to wipe some of your wetness that was coating his face, sucking his fingers off like it was no issue.

“Look at you,” he said softly, more thought than a compliment like he couldn’t quite believe what he’d made of you.

You opened your mouth to speak, but all you could manage was a shaky exhale, fingers gripping the edge of the table as you tried to sit fully up again. Your eyes tired as you found yourself looking him over, you could see just how much the experience had affected him as well. If the bump in the front of his linen pants was anything to go back. His arousal clear against the dark fabric, his length most likely aching.

He leaned in with a twinge of his lips, close enough that your noses brushed, his lips barely touching yours. “You can’t even sit up straight.”

You tried to glare at him, you really did, but your eyes fluttered shut instead. “I hate you sometimes.”

That earned the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth—his version of a smile. But it didn’t last, the heat in his expression was still there, you knew that look well and you knew exactly what it meant.

He pulled back slightly, hand dropping to your arm.

“Up,” he said quietly. “Come here.”

You didn’t hesitate, you never did, as you reached for his shoulders and let him help you stand, legs wobbling slightly under you. Your hands gripped him more for balance than anything else. The stone table scraped softly against your skin as your hips shifted up and off it.

The silk of your dress dropped back down as you stood, back to brushing your ankles as his hands met the small of your back, fingers brushing the skin.

“Turn around,” Aemond murmured against your temple, voice low and firm, his hand trailing down your back to start tugging you. “And lean over.”

There was no room for teasing in his tone, no joking smirk. Just that same intensity that came with him, he wasn’t asking because he wanted to for fun, he was asking because he needed to.

Like putty in his hands, you turned without a word, still catching your breath from your orgasm, your hair sticking to the nape of your neck. And like he requested you bent forward just slightly, placing your hands on the table, feeling the roughness of the old stone against your fingertips again.

The breeze shifted around you with a noise from the bushes, cooling the skin of your back, fluttering the hem of your dress slightly like a kiss from the earth. Aemond stepped in behind you again, close enough for you to feel the heat radiating from his body, even without the press of his chest.

But you could hear the breath leave him when he looked down.

One hand smoothed over your hip, fingers curling as he pulled the fabric of your dress further up until it gathered at your waist completely again. His other hand settled on your stomach, thumb pressing into the soft flesh there, holding you still as he leaned in, mouth near your ear.

“Still too hot for panties?” He murmured, voice quieter now, edged with the faintest bit of a smirk in his voice. Still turning over this whole thing in his mind.

You managed the barest smile. “You’re never going to let this go, are you?”

That earned another quiet sound from him—something between a breath and a huff, not angry. Just hungry, and patient.

His grip on your stomach tightened slightly, grounding you in place, and his other hand drifted down between your thighs again, arms catching the fabric of your dress so it didn’t slip. His touch was deliberate, slow, like he had no intention of rushing now that he had you exactly where he wanted you.

You inhaled sharply at the contact, your hands bracing against the table as your head dipped forward, jaw going slack as he stroked at your sensitive folds again. Making sure you were still ready for him.

Aemond’s lips grazed the curve of your neck, then your shoulder, breath hot against your skin.

“Gods,” he murmured, almost more to himself than to you. “You’re still shaking.”

You were, you could feel it in the way your legs trembled, in the way your body leaned into the table, pressing your hips against the stone to ground you. It was clear in the way your breaths came in short, shallow bursts, no matter how hard you tried to steady them. He wasn’t wasting time as his hand slid a little lower down between your thighs. Cupping you properly now, and all you could do was bite your lip as your hips jerked forward, instinctive and helpless under his touch.

“Still feeling greedy,” he asked after a beat, he was toying with you now.

You wanted to answer, gods you tried to, but all that came out was a sound; something soft and broken, caught between a breath and a whimper. Aemond hummed faintly behind you, clearly pleased that he’d gotten you back for the lack of underwear and riled you up to this extent. His fingers slid slowly through your slick again teasingly before retreating; drawing a quiet noise from your throat at the loss.

Then his hand on your stomach moved, dragging it slowly over your torso, up your waist, slipping beneath the bunched fabric of your dress to find your bare chest. Palm warm over the curve of your breast. He didn’t care that your skin was clammy and covered in sweat, only that your nipples were pebbled against the fabric, budding in the soft blue silk from the arousal. His hand squeezing softly at your breast while his lips met the nape of your neck, kissing the red skin, sucking softly to leave behind he was even there.

His fingers closed around the weight of your breast, thumb brushing slowly over the hardened nipples beneath the silk before he gave a soft, deliberate squeeze—just enough to make you arch slightly into his touch, mouth falling open in a soundless gasp. Being behind you wasn’t always his favourite way to take you, but being out in the open, with his warmth behind while were forced to look out, and the fear of getting caught. It was erotic, it was sinful, it was something you never knew you needed.

You could feel his fraying restraint, his hand still kneading softly at your chest, his mouth dragging wet heat across your shoulder, the weight of him behind you, cock still pressed against your rear unmoving.

Holding himself there, letting you feel everything before he ever gave you more.

You felt the shift before you heard it—the slight change in the way his body moved behind you, Aemond’s hand left your waist only briefly, and then you heard it—soft, deliberate—the quiet clink of his belt buckle coming undone and his zip being pulled.

Your breath caught at that; he wasn’t teasing anymore.

The tension between you had changed in an instant, it felt thicker now, every action now weighted with more intention. He wasn’t just begging to eat you out on a table outside, you felt him behind you, the heat of him pressed along your back, his hand efficient but unhurried as he unfastened his trousers.

You didn’t dare look back and you didn’t have to, the air shifted with him and it was like foliage around you knew that, the breeze dipping for a moment. His presence was heavier the closer he pressed. One of his hands returned to your hip, moving from your breast and holding you in place with steady pressure, the other returning brushing down the curve of your lower back, then pausing at your rear.

You could hear his breath now, low and deep.

But barely.

You stayed where you were, bent over the table, hands flat against the warm stone, dress bunched high around your hips. Your chest rose and fell steadily, despite the flutter in your ribs, despite the way your knees threatened to give at the feel of his length barely brushing you.

Aemond’s palm slid across your rear squeezing softly, silently reassuring you. And you let out a soft breath as you felt him lean in, his chest pressed to your back, his breath skating along the nape of your neck.

“Still with me?” He murmured.

You nodded, just once, voice trapped in your throat.

“Good,” he said, barely a whisper now, lips ghosting the shell of your ear, a silent kiss.

Time felt endless his hand curled back around your hip, his other adjusting himself behind you, and you felt it—his cock brushing against the inside of your thigh, hot and heavy, leaking against your skin. The tip soft and damp with pre-come, the movement smearing it against your leg.

A quiet gasp left your lips, but you silenced yourself instantly as you bit down on the inside of your cheek, trying to brace for what you knew was coming. But even then, the anticipation was unbearable.

He was barely touching you, you felt his hand shift to guide himself, the tip brushing your folds in a slow, careful line, not pushing in, just feeling, poking around your puffy core with intent—teasing you just a bit more before he caved and sunk himself in.

The move made your spine curl in a reflex you couldn’t control, and your teeth sunk deeper into your cheek at the sound that threatened to spill out. Begging to be released as he passed over your clit with just enough pressure to make your knees weaken.

You tried to shift back further, hips moving on instinct, but his hand tightened on your hip in warning.

“Ah ah…” he tutted in your ear, soft but commanding, “Patience.”

You exhaled sharply at that, biting back a frustrated whine that bubbled in your throat again. Your hands gripping the stone table harder, nails scraping the stone, palms damp and unsteady against the rough surface, your arms trembling just slightly from holding still. But still, you stayed right where you were, breathing shallow, and he finally began to press into you.

Every inch of him dragged a sound from your throat you couldn’t hold back, your head dipping forward as your body adjusted around the stretch with a whine. The first inch stretched you slow and steady, heat flaring sharply between your hips as your breath caught, throat clenching around the soft, broken noise that escaped you.

Your fiancé was thick, that much you always knew, but from behind the angle was deeper—impossibly so. You felt every ridge, every shift of muscle, the slow give of your body as it opened around him. The pressure built and built with every inch he sank in, a slow, insistent push that filled you to the brim, making your legs shake, your belly coil tight with heat that was different from before.

You whined softly at the intensity of it all, head dropping forward, strands of your hair clinging to your damp skin. Aemond wasn’t going to stop until he was buried in you completely.

He groaned low in his throat, the sound barely more than a grumble, quiet and hoarse, and finally his hips met your backside with a final, grounding press. You could feel him there, rooted deep, his cock pulsing faintly in your walls as they clenched around him.

He didn’t pull back instantly; he didn’t even move, he just held you, flush against him.

“Fuck,” He whispered, voice rough and thick with restraint as his head lingered beside yours, breath warm as he huffed out.

And gods, you couldn’t even speak.

Your jaw hung open with parted lips, but all that came out were shallow, panting breaths.

Your lungs struggling to pull enough air in to keep you sane. Your eyes fluttered open slowly, your skin prickling as your gaze dropped to the table beneath you. The stone was warm and rough under your hands, scraped faintly beneath your fingertips, grounding you with its texture as you tried to stay present in the moment.

Your vision was hazy at the edges, but you forced yourself to cast your gaze up and look. Trying to focus on the garden surrounding you. You focused on the details: the ivy creeping up the edge of the greenhouse wall in the distance, the leaves stirring slightly in the breeze, the birds that would occasionally caw from the trees, and the heat of summer pressing in around you.

This part of the garden was hidden—tucked far behind the hedges and down a sloping path few people bothered to follow. You knew that. Aemond knew that. And still, the awareness of being exposed in the open air, with your dress bunched around your waist, your fiancé buried in your guts and sweat slipping slowly down your spine, made the entire thing feel sharper.

More dangerous, more real, and fuck it was a turn-on.

You could feel him still catching his breath behind you, his chest expanding with every inhale, the tension radiating off his body as he held still. So still it made you ache, for movement, for release.

“Baby, please.” You gasped softly, hips undulating, wiggling in an attempt to get him to move. You rolled back against him just slightly, enough for friction.

The effect was immediate.

His grip on your hips tightened, his fingertips digging in harder around your plush hips, the hold coming with an edge of warning that sent another shiver down your spine. He drew in a sharp breath through his nose.

“Careful,” he murmured, voice low and strained. The word rasped against your skin, right beside your ear, a whisper pressed with heat.

You whimpered, the sound soft and aching, you were trembling again, legs unsteady, body thrumming with need.

Aemond stayed there for another breath.

Then, finally, he shifted, it wasn’t a full thrust, not yet.

But it was enough to make you gasp as he pulled back a fraction of an inch, just enough for you to feel the drag, the ridges of his length, before sliding back in just as slowly, hips pressing flush to yours once more.

This time, you did moan, quiet and shaky and pathetically undone.

“Gods,” Aemond muttered behind you, almost to himself. “You feel—fuck, you feel good.”

Then he did it again, fingers clenching on your hips at another slow pull, hips drawing back but he gave torturously measured push, and that was the rhythm he set. For being out in the open he was unhurried, deep, and devastatingly intentional.

And you could do nothing but take it, mouth panting, desperate.

His pace remained devastatingly slow, like he had all the time in the world to pull you apart piece by piece, fuck you like you were in the privacy of your own home.

Each stroke was deep and measured, dragging along every quivering inch inside you, igniting fresh heat with every push. The slap of his hips meeting yours echoed faintly in the still air, a notion that felt entirely forbidden to begin with.

Your knuckles tightened against the edge of the stone table as your hands sought something to hold, something to keep you grounded while he moved. It was pathetic but you couldn’t even look down anymore; your vision was too glassy, heavy-lidded, barely able to focus on anything beyond the overwhelming feel of him. It left your eyes fluttering and unfocused on the distant. Focused only on the way your body received him so greedily, so helplessly, your breath catching with each press of his hips, every grunt he made behind you.

His mouth dragged open along the curve of your shoulder, tongue tasting the sheen of sweat there before he found the bead that had begun to slide down from your hairline to the slope of your spine. He caught it with his lips, licking it away before it could even fall. That’s where his teeth followed, nipping just beneath it, leaving a sign he was even there.

You whimpered at that, sharp and helpless, and your head tipped forward again, your mouth falling open as your legs trembled beneath you. Aemond grunted against your skin, one hand releasing your hip just long enough to press flat against your stomach, drawing you back into him, flush and locked.

“Fucking perfect,” he rasped dragging his nose up your neck to speak against your ear, voice harsh, broken, possessed. “So sweet like this, for me…”

But you could feel everything in technicolour.

In the way his cock throbbed inside you with every pulse of your walls, in the trembling of his breath, in the way his hand shook slightly against your belly from the sheer force of keeping himself together. Focused on not finishing too soon, on giving you more.

He fucked you like he needed it to survive—like you were the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth, his salvation and his sin wrapped into one soft, trembling body bent over stone beneath the sun. His little beauty, ripe for the taking, as fresh as the flowers around them.

And then, just as he shifted slightly, looking changing his angle enough to make your body jolt with pleasure, enough to pull a low, broken moan from deep in your throat—you heard it.

Footsteps.

Voices.

Just faint, somewhere nearby, the sound softened by grass.

The world seemed to still.

Aemond froze mid-thrust, his hands going rigid on your body as the sounds grew clearer—muffled conversation, slow and aimless, the kind of idle garden stroll that meant nothing except the risk of everything.

Your heart froze, panic slicing through the haze of pleasure like a lightning strike.

Your body stiffened instinctively, suddenly hyper-aware of your position—of you bent over the table, your dress bunched obscenely around your waist, Aemond still buried inside you, cock pulsing and warm and unmistakable.

You didn’t move, couldn’t, you felt like an animal in headlights.

Your breath hitched in your throat as the voices came closer—one male, one female.

Familiar in cadence, it was two of Aemond’s family members; Jace and Baela. Baela was laughing lightly, a casual remark about the estate, something utterly mundane. But you barely processed the words, your heartbeat swimming in your ears, trying to focus on the direction they were coming from.

It was hard to tell but it seemed like it was just beyond the hedgerow, on the other path that led down to the lake, the one that was no more than ten or twelve steps from where you stood.

Aemond didn’t speak, he didn’t even breathe, from what you could feel of him.

His entire body was taut behind you, jaw tight, arm still curled protectively around your waist, hand still pressed to your stomach. His chest was pressed flat to your back now, shielding you as best he could, and you could feel his head lower near your shoulder, his breath brushing hot and fast against your skin.

They passed slowly, too slowly for your poor heart, their footsteps crunching faintly over gravel, voices still low but close enough to reach through the thick green of the hedge like a warning. You couldn’t see them, not fully, but you could hear everything; from the rustle of their clothing, to the occasional murmur of pleasantries, and then…

“Did you hear something?” Jace asked.

A pause that had you nearly stop breathing.

“I doubt it,” Baela replied casually. “Probably just birds again, it’s far too hot for anyone to be out here this long.”

At that, they kept walking, the voices growing softer and the crunch of their steps began to fade.

You didn’t move a single inch, not until the last of the sound slipped back into silence.

Only then did Aemond draw in a breath behind you.

It shuddered through his chest like a dam finally breaking, and you could feel the tension leave him in the way his grip shifted, fingers loosening on your skin. His forehead dropped briefly, pressed to your shoulder, his body still draped over yours like a shield, still pressed deep inside you.

You exhaled a laugh that was barely audible, thin and slightly hysterical with leftover adrenaline as you panted from fear and pleasure.

“Gods, we could’ve been caught,” you whispered, barely able to speak.

Aemond didn’t answer right away, his breath still uneven, and then kissed the slope of your neck, slowly, his lips dragging gently over sweat-damp skin.

“They wouldn’t have gotten far,” He murmured darkly, a quiet edge to his voice that sent a new shiver down your spine. “I wouldn’t let them see you like this.”

Your body clenched around him involuntarily at the sound of that, and he groaned softly, hips rocking once out of reflex. He wasted no time as he pulled back slightly, just enough to move again, and this time there was something new in the way he moved, less restraint, more need.

A lingering tension from what had almost been lost.

He didn’t even blink before he thrust into you again, it was deeper now, more purposeful. Your knees twitched slightly, a gasp tearing from your throat as you shifted forward with the movement, hips pressing back to the edge of the table.

“Still want me to stop?” he whispered, voice ragged and close to your ear.

You shook your head silently, unable to speak, the only sound from you a whimper as he began to build that rhythm again—unforgiving, but careful.

A man who knew your body and exactly what it could take.

Hearing Aemond’s grunts in your ear only pushed you further, the arousal, the feeling warming your guy with each movement. Much like the summer sun, you felt him everywhere, from his breath that hit the side of your neck to the slamming of his hips against your plump flesh as he drove his cock into you relentlessly.

His hips met yours with a force that bordered on desperation, the slap of skin a steady rhythm echoing through the thick quiet of the secluded space. Every motion sent shockwaves through your body; jolting you against the table, his body pressing into your spine, into your lungs where the air caught and stuttered.

You were coming undone.

Not just from the friction of his length, or the depth, or the heat of the afternoon pressing down on both of you—but from him. From the way he moved like he needed you, like this something carved out of devotion and frustration and longing.

Your moans had softened into breathless, broken gasps, caught between whimpers and whispered fragments of his name.

And he drank it in, all of it.

The sounds, the shuddering in your legs, the way your warm cunt welcomed him again and again without hesitation, your sweet walls fluttering around his cock, squeezing him in the way that only you could.

Aemond lips brushed the shell of your ear again, his voice low and fraying at the edges. “You take me so well.… always so good for me.”

Your fingers clutched the stone again, grounding yourself against the swell of pleasure building, your head dropping forward as your body trembled around him, helpless under the rhythm he set—deep, steady, ruinous.

Aemond’s hips rolled with increasing urgency, the slow burn of time passed without touch, without space to breathe, and now that he had you here—hidden and pressed close, surrounded by sun-warmed stone and heady blooms.

The garden blurred around you the closer you got to that edge.

The sound of your own breath, ragged and uneven in your throat. The weight of his body against yours. The way your limbs trembled, your muscles tightening with every thrust, coiling you closer and closer to that breaking point.

Aemond’s hand at your stomach flexed again, his grip no longer as controlled as before, his composure slipping just beneath the surface.

You knew he felt it too, that pull to the end.

Your back arched slightly, your hips rising to meet his thrusts even more, the tension rising through you like a tidal wave threatening to crest. And behind you, Aemond groaned, quiet and hoarse and wrecked. His mouth finding your shoulder again, his breath hot where it brushed across your damp skin.

“I’ve got you,” He whispered, more breath than sound. “Just let go for me, sweetheart.”

The words hit you harder than the motion of his thrusts—more than the rhythm of them or the friction. You let them carry you, sinking into your hazy mind until your body began to unravel, your breath caught in your throat and your fingers curled against the stone tight.

It could have been seconds or years, it made no difference to you, as you came quietly.

There were no sharp cries into the space, no frantic desperation clawing at your throat, just a trembling surrender to the pleasure. A slow-flooding warmth through your limbs, one that tightened your insides, and had your head dropping forward as your body shook under his hands.

You felt yourself tighten around him, pulling him deeper, and it was all it took to get him there too.

Aemond buried himself one last time and held.

“Fuck.” He grunted as he pressed in deep, the sound he made low and quiet, rough against your shoulder, his grip tightening as he followed you over the edge.

For a moment, he went completely still, breath catching, chest rising sharply against your back—then slowly, slowly, he began to relax, his forehead pressing gently to the space between your shoulder blades.

You stayed like that for a while.

Neither of you speaking. Neither of you moving.

Just two silhouettes in a patch of garden no one ever visited, birds humming nearby, and the sharp scent of grass warmed by the sun. The stone beneath your palms was rough, and grounding, and his skin against yours was warm, familiar.

Eventually, he pulled back just enough to ease the weight off you, his cock sliding out of you with a gentle whine out your lips, and a breath at the feeling of his seed slipping down your thigh. He caught it with his fingers, pressing them into you briefly to try and clean you up without anything on hand, but you knew you’d be waddling back to the main house with shame covering your face and your skin.

His hands were careful, steadying, as he moved to smooth out your dress. Letting the silk drop down gently like a whisper on your skin. He pressed a soft kiss to the base of your neck, then to your shoulder, and finally leaned his cheek there for a brief moment, letting his breathing even out.

“You alright?” he asked softly, his voice hoarse but warm.

You nodded without looking back, your voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah… better than alright.”

A faint chuckle escaped him, small and genuine, and he helped you turn around slowly. Holding your waist while you found your footing again, your legs wobbled slightly, but he steadied you.  Pull you close to him. When you met his gaze, his expression had softened: no longer clouded by lust or frustration, but something else.

Something quieter. Fonder.

You reached up your hand, and smoothed his hair away from his damp forehead, brushing your fingers through the strands that had fallen loose from his bun that was barely hanging on.

“Still think no panties is a bad idea?” you murmured, smiling faintly.

Aemond leaned in, brushing his nose along your cheek in a fleeting gesture of affection.

“Probably,” he replied with a slight smirk against your skin. “But I’d be more than happy to do that again if you decided to go commando the rest of the trip.”

You stood there for a moment longer, foreheads nearly touching, the scent of summer between you and the distant chatter of family still lingering faintly somewhere from the top of the garden.

“Is that a promise?” You grinned with a slight chuckle, a teasing glint in your eyes.

“Always.” He huffed, shaking his head as he dipped down to kiss you.

[aeralux]

Been really inactive lately due to it being my final month in Spain. Me and my friends explored the city and other parts of Spain. I had so much fun and every day was packed with activities, truly I only just slept in my room and then in the morning until evening was out again.

Possibly when I’m back home I will write new one-shots and fics, because I do miss writing. But at the moment I’m trying to spend as much time as possible with the friends I’ve made here.

This semester has truly been a dream. 🌊🌺🐚

aera xx 🥥🌿

[aeralux]

make him crumble so bad during sex that he turns out to be nothing but hungry desperate animal for you