#Lucerys velaryon x fem!reader smut | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aeralux · 4 days ago

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Dumb & Poetic 2- Lucerys Velaryon

(part one/part two)

Modern!Lucerys x Reader

Summary: A clash of egos. A rich boy and a scholarship girl. Sounds like a match made in hell. So, obviously, your professor pairs you up for the semester's most important project. A week alone on the sea with the entitled Lucerys... How ever would you survive?

Modern!AU; Enemies to Lovers; Collage!AU

Warnings: SMUT 18+; masturbation (m! and f!); mentions to vaping; sexting; slight Addam x Reader; oral (f! receiving); anal play (he literally just touches the hole a few times, nothing goes in); foul language (no degradation); creampie (reader is one the pill); nipple play; big D! Lucerys (tall guys are 9/10 packing)

Words: in this part 20k (all smut basically OOPS)

Notes: No description of the reader (just that she has hair). English is not my first language. Technically this could be read on its own also. There is a love confession in this one FINALLY. RISE MY LUKE GIRLIES; RISE I SAY!!!!! If you do not agree with any of the warnings, do NOT read.

As you stood outside your dorm, duffel bag slung over one shoulder, you took a long drag from the vape Baela had gifted you, the sweet flavour of apple dancing on your tongue. You couldn't help but think about Lucerys' texts from earlier in the week, the ones that kept replaying in your mind like a broken record.

"I've sailed through storms far worse than any limits your boy could imagine...". Was he taking a jab at Addam? Probably. The arrogance of that man, always needing to one-up everyone and everything. But then again, Lucerys had always been a bit...much. Intense and overwhelming in every way.

You took one last pull from the vape, the smoke curling from your lips as you exhaled. Then, with a deep breath, you squared your shoulders and set your bag in front of you. And as much as you hated to admit it, you couldn't wait to see what would happen.

Lucerys pulled up to your campus in a sleek, black Mercedes, the silver accents glinting in the morning sun. He had risen early to oversee the final preparations for your journey, determined to ensure everything was perfect. As he stepped out, his eyes immediately found you, drinking in the sight of your form and the way the sunlight caught the strands of your hair.

Lucerys approached you with a confident, almost arrogant stride, a smug smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. He bowed low, his eyes never leaving yours as he reached for your bag. "Good morning, princess," he murmured, his voice low and smooth like velvet. "I trust you slept well?" He straightened up, holding your duffel bag in one strong hand. His other hand reached out to take yours, his long fingers curling around your palm in a possessive grip.

Lucerys led you to the car. He opened the door for you, a flourish of gentlemanly gallantry that made you feel a flicker of something suspiciously like admiration. He had always been so arrogant, so infuriatingly self-assured. But he had his moments, moments when he almost seemed... like a real man.

As you settled into the soft leather seat, Lucerys slid beside you, his long legs stretching out. He turned to you, a slow, wicked grin spreading across his face as he started the engine.

"I hope you don't get seasick easily, baby," he murmured, his voice low and heavy with unspoken promise. His eyes met yours, a dark, intense look that made your heart skip a beat in your chest.

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on your glossed lips as you turned to face Lucerys. "Baby? Since when did princess turn into baby?" You teased, your voice dripping with sarcasm. You could feel the rumble of the engine beneath you.

Lucerys' eyes flicked to yours, a wicked glint sparkling in their depths. You could see his jaw clenched, the muscle twitching slightly, as he fought back a retort. But you weren't going to let him get to you that easily. No, you had to stay strong and keep your wits.

You settled back against the leather seat, crossing one leg over the other. The skirt you wore riding up just a fraction, exposing a sliver of thigh. "I hope you have good music taste," you continued your tone light with an undercurrent of challenge. "The port's about half an hour from here, and I am not about to listen to shitty music for that long."

Lucerys paid no attention to your words, his blood running hot as he watched you cross your legs, the hem of your sundress riding up to reveal a glimpse of soft skin. He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry as the desert. It made him want to pull over and kiss that smirk right off your face until you were breathless and panting, asking for more.

You reached out, your fingers hovering over the touchscreen display. You could feel the heat of Lucerys' gaze on you, and practically hear the gears turning in his head as he tried to devise a suitable response. But you paid him no mind, focusing solely on scrolling through the radio station options, determined to find something worthy.

"Don't worry, princess, I have excellent taste in everything," he murmured, his voice low and heavy with unspoken meaning.

He turned his attention to the road, his eyes narrowing as he merged onto the highway. The speedometer climbed steadily. Lucerys glanced at you, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth as he reached out to turn up the volume on the radio.

The sound of classic rock filled the car, a familiar guitar instrumental, making you smile. Lucerys bobbed his head slightly to the beat, his fingers tapping against the steering wheel in time with the music. "This is one of my favourites," he said.

You smirked as the opening riff of Creep filled the car, rolling your eyes at Lucerys' predictable musical choice. "Of course you would listen to Radiohead," you teased, rolling your eyes. You inhaled deeply as the salty sea breeze rushed through the open window.

Glancing over at Lucerys, you couldn't help but admire him behind the wheel. His strong hands gripped the steering wheel, and his veins showed clearly. As your eyes trailed over his chiselled features, you felt a flutter in your stomach, a feeling you tried desperately to dismiss.

But as you watched him, you couldn't help but imagine those strong hands on your body, exploring every curve and contour. You shivered slightly at the thought, a warmth spreading through your core as you squirmed in your seat. Would his touch be rough and demanding or slow and teasing?

You crossed your legs tightly, trying to ignore the growing ache between your thighs. You could feel your panties growing damp as dirty thoughts filled your mind - Lucerys pinning you against the wall of the cabin, his hard bulge grinding against your ass as he ripped your dress off with a growl. The image made you bite your lip as you pressed your thighs together even harder, desperately trying to relieve some of the pressure building there.

You knew you shouldn't be thinking such filthy thoughts about your best friend's cousin, but you couldn't help it. There was just something about Lucerys that brought out parts that craved to be claimed and fucked until you couldn't walk straight. You just prayed that he couldn't read your mind and see the lewd fantasies playing out there because if he did...

Lucerys glanced at you, noticing how you squirmed in your seat. He couldn't help but smirk as he caught you admiring him, your gaze lingering on his hands gripping the steering wheel. He knew exactly, what you were thinking, and could practically see the dirty thoughts.

"Is the music not to your liking, princess?" Lucerys asked, his voice low. He didn't take his eyes off the road, but he could feel the heat of your gaze on him, burning into his skin. He knew you were admiring his body.

"No, I like it," you replied with a casual shrug.

Unbeknownst to you, Lucerys was lost in thoughts about you, far more intense and depraved than you could ever imagine. The air between you crackled with unspoken tension as his gaze lingered on you, revealing a desire beneath the surface of his composed exterior.

Lucerys's cock twitched in his pants as he thought about sliding his hand up your thigh, feeling the heat of your skin and the dampness of your panties. He wanted to tear them off and expose your glistening pussy, rubbing his fingers along your slick folds.

He could feel your velvety walls clenching around his fingers as he pumped them in and out, his thumb circling your clit. His other hand would be busy groping your tits, pinching and tugging at your nipples until they were stiff little peaks.

Lucerys's cock was rock hard now, straining against the confines of his pants. He wanted to free it, to take your hand and wrap it around his thick shaft, showing you just how big and hard he was because of you.

He wanted to make you stroke him, to feel your soft hand pumping his hard cock as he thrust into your fist. He wanted to hear you moan as he fucked your hand, his hips snapping forward again and again until he came all over your fingers.

But more than anything, Lucerys wanted to bury his face between your thighs, to inhale the scent of your arousal as he licked and sucked at your clit. He would bring you to the brink of orgasm with his mouth before sinking his hard cock deep inside your tight, wet cunt and fucking you until you screamed his name.

He knew he should focus on the road, on getting you to the port safely. But all he could think about was bending you over the back seat and taking you from behind, pounding into you with all the lust and desire that had been growing between you for months.

You sighed in relief as the port finally appeared, the marina stretching before you. At least there would be more room on the yacht, some much-needed breathing space from the charged atmosphere between you in the confines of the car.

As Lucerys pulled into a parking spot and put the car in park, you turned to him with a curious arch of your brow. "So... which one is yours?" You asked, nodding towards the various vessels bobbing gently in the water. The yachts ranged from modest sailboats to luxury mega-yachts.

Lucerys smirked confidently, as he followed your gaze towards the marina, a glint of pride in his eyes. He stepped out of the car and walked around to open your door, offering his hand to help you out. As you took it, he led you towards the dock, his stride purposeful and self-assured.

"The Sea Dragon," he declared, gesturing grandly to a massive, opulent yacht that dwarfed some of the surrounding vessels. It was a magnificent sight. The name "Sea Dragon" was emblazoned in elegant, gold-leaf lettering.

Lucerys couldn't help but puff up with pride as he watched your eyes widen in awe. He lived for moments like this - showing off the wealth and status of being a Velaryon. And he especially loved seeing that look of wonder on your beautiful face, knowing that he was the one who put it there.

"She's a custom build," he explained, his voice thick with superiority. "Nobody else has a yacht like her."

As you both approached the bridge, Lucerys placed a possessive hand on the small of your back, guiding you aboard. The deck was polished to a mirror sheen, and the railings were made of intricately carved, polished wood.

"Welcome aboard," he murmured, his lips curling into a smirk as he led you towards the salon. Inside, the space was even more breathtaking - all rich, plush fabrics, gleaming woods, and state-of-the-art technology. A grand staircase swept up to the upper deck, and floor-to-ceiling windows offered stunning views of the surrounding sea.

"This is... incredible," you breathed, taking in the sight before you.

Lucerys grinned at your reaction, looking immensely pleased with himself. "I'm glad you like it," he said, his voice low and smooth.

But what caught your eye was the master suite at the back of the boat. The king-sized bed dominated the space, dressed in crisp white linens and a mountain of pillows. You could picture Lucerys sprawled out on that bed, his dark hair against the white sheets, his brown eyes burning into yours as he beckoned you to join him...

Lucerys followed your gaze to the master suite, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he noticed where your attention had been drawn.

"Wait..." you exclaimed, a sudden realisation dawning on you. Your gaze darted around the area. A frown creased your brow as you looked up at Lucerys, disbelief written across your features. Did he honestly expect you to share the same bed with him, just like that? The very idea sparked a whirlwind of bewilderment and desire within you.

Lucerys leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, his grin widening at your expression. “Something wrong, princess?” he asked, his voice dripping with mock innocence.

You turned to him, narrowing your eyes. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” you said, gesturing toward the bed. “This... this cannot be the sleeping arrangement.”

He shrugged, his brown eyes twinkling with amusement. “It’s the only room with a bed. Unless you’d prefer to curl up on the carpet, this is your best option.”

Your mouth opened and closed as you struggled to find the words. “My best option? Are you out of your mind? We can't just sleep next to each other.”

“Oh, we can,” he said, stepping closer, his grin turning downright devilish. “The question is whether you’ll manage to get through the night without tossing me overboard.”

Heat rose to your cheeks as you tried to ignore the mental image his words conjured—Lucerys beside you, his warm, solid presence just inches away. You folded your arms across your chest, raising an eyebrow in defiance. “I’m serious, Lucerys.”

He stepped closer, his voice softening, though his teasing edge remained. “Look, you're sleeping next to me, princess,” he said, gaze locking onto yours. “We’ve got work to do, and we’ll both need sleep to keep the boat running. So unless you want to start hallucinating from exhaustion, I suggest you suck it up and deal with it.”

You hated how logical he sounded, even when he was infuriating. “Fine,” you said through gritted teeth. “But we’re drawing a line. A big, imaginary one, right down the middle of the bed. You stay on your side, I’ll stay on mine.”

Lucerys raised an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth twitching with suppressed laughter. “You’re seriously suggesting a pillow wall?”

“Exactly,” you said, grabbing a few pillows from the bed and piling them in the centre like a makeshift barricade. “Cross this line, Velaryon, and I swear—”

“You’ll what?” he interrupted, his voice dropping just enough to make your breath hitch. “Hit me with another pillow? I’m trembling.”

You scowled, ignoring the heat in your cheeks as you shoved the last pillow into place. “Just stay on your side,” you snapped, turning away to unpack your things.

Lucerys watched as you busied yourself with unpacking, a smirk still playing on his lips. He couldn't help but chuckle softly at your huffiness, finding your irritation adorable. As you bent over to put your bags away, he let his gaze linger on the curve of your ass, remembering how he had imagined gripping and squeezing it just moments before.

You straightened up and turned to face him, catching him staring. Lucerys quickly looked away, trying to hide his smug grin. "Is there something on your mind?" you asked sarcastically, folding your arms.

Lucerys shrugged, still smirking. "No, nothing at all," he lied smoothly, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "I was just thinking about how comfortable that bed looks. I might take a little nap."

With that, he sauntered over to the bed and flung himself onto it, stretching out languidly. He made sure to take up more than his half of the bed to rile you up. Lucerys closed his eyes and pretended to doze off, a small smile on his face as he listened to you moving about the room.

Despite his feigned sleep, Lucerys couldn't stop his mind from wandering to inappropriate places. Lucerys shifted slightly, feeling his cock starting to harden at the thought of burying himself deep inside you. He bit back a groan, trying to will away the unwanted arousal.

Lucerys forced himself to focus on something else, anything else. He was in deep trouble, and he didn't know how he would get through the next few days without losing control.

You glanced at the clock, noting it was only 10 AM. You smirked as you snatched a pillow from the bed, throwing it at Lucerys' prone form. "Wake up, sleepyhead," you called out teasingly, "We have a schedule. The weather's perfect for setting sail."

Lucerys startled, his eyes flying open to meet yours. You couldn't help but feel a rush as his gaze raked over your body.

You turned and sauntered onto the deck, the warm sun and salty air enveloping you. You tilted your face to the sky, letting the sun kiss your skin.

You knew Lucerys was probably watching you, and you could feel his eyes burning into your back. A secret smile played at the corners of your lips as you walked to the railing, looking out at the blue waters stretching before you. The yacht gently rocked with the waves.

Lucerys followed you onto the deck, his gaze locked onto your retreating form. He couldn't tear his eyes away from your hair dancing in the breeze.

As he approached you, he noticed how the wind had made your sundress flutter, giving him a tempting peek at your smooth, toned thighs. He swallowed hard as he imagined running his hands along your legs, inching higher and higher until he reached the heat between your thighs.

Lucerys stepped beside you, leaning against the railing and mimicking your pose. He could smell the salt and sunscreen on your skin, a combination that made his head spin. "It's a beautiful day, isn't it?" he murmured, his voice low and smooth.

You glanced over at him. "It is," you replied, turning your gaze back out to the horizon. "We should head out now. We have a schedule to upkeep."

Lucerys nodded, his eyes still lingering on your profile. "You're right," he agreed, straightening up and heading towards the bridge. "I'll just go set up everything in. the cockpit."

"I'm trusting you with my life here," you teased, flashing him a playful grin. "Don't screw this up."

His smirk widened at your words. "Don't worry, princess. I know exactly what I'm doing," he said, his voice dripping with arrogant confidence.

Rolling your eyes, you reminded him of your schedule. "We must be at the next marina by 2 AM at the latest. Don't you dare make us late."

Lucerys just laughed as he turned to head towards the bridge, leaving you alone on the deck. You watched him go, admiring the way his hair fell across his forehead.

Shaking your head, you returned to the berth, setting your clothes and the snacks I had brought in your bag. You popped a seasickness pill, hoping it would be enough to keep your stomach settled on the long journey ahead. The last thing you needed was to spend the entire trip with your head in the toilet.

Taking a deep breath, you slipped a sheer swimsuit cover-up on. You knew it would drive Lucerys crazy, but you couldn't help yourself. It was hot and sunny, and you would not sweat the entirety of the day.

Lucerys couldn't help but let his gaze linger on your figure as you made your way towards the cabin, admiring how your swimsuit was visible from under the sheer fabric. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of you.

Lucerys gulped, feeling his cock stir to life in his shorts. He could see every inch of your tanned skin on display, from your toned legs to the swell of your breasts. The way the fabric of your swimsuit hugged your ass.

He forced himself to look away and focus on preparing the yacht for departure. Lucerys double-checked the navigation system to ensure it was in good working order.

As he was about to head out, he paused, glancing back at you. You looked like a goddess, and he felt his heart race just looking at you.

He imagined pushing the fabric to the side and exposing your tits to the sun and his hungry gaze. His cock was rock hard now, tenting obscenely in his shorts. He palmed himself through the fabric, groaning softly as he thought about burying his face between your tits.

Lucerys knew he couldn't keep thinking like this. He needed to focus on piloting the boat, not on fucking you senseless. But the way your bottoms rode up between your legs made it hard for him to concentrate.

Taking a deep breath, Lucerys rubbed his bulge a final time before you made your way next to him.

You glanced at Lucerys, biting your lower lip nervously as you sat beside him. You could feel his eyes roaming over your body, taking in every curve accentuated by the thin fabric of your swimsuit and coverup.

"I, um, hope you don't mind," you stammered, a blush spreading across your cheeks as you tugged at the hem of your coverup. "It's just so hot out and I wanted to be comfortable. I hope that's okay..." Your voice trailed off, and you looked down, suddenly feeling shy under his intense gaze.

You couldn't help but squirm a little in your seat as you felt his eyes lingering on your body. The way he was looking at you made you feel both excited and apprehensive at the same time.

Trying to change the subject, you cleared your throat and nodded towards the GPS screen. "Have you set up the navigation yet? We should start heading to the next port soon." You kept your tone casual, but there was an undercurrent of tension in your words.

It was an ongoing game of push and pull between you. From heated glances and shy smiles to flirtatious banter aimed at provoking one another, it was driving you crazy. You couldn't help but wonder: Was it having the same effect on him?

Lucerys's gaze flicked away from your body and back to the GPS screen as you spoke. He swallowed hard, trying to regain his composure and focus on the task. "Don't worry about it," he said, his voice slightly strained. "You look... nice." He caught himself before he said 'hot', not wanting to risk making you even more uncomfortable.

"Yeah, navigation is all set," Lucerys replied gruffly, grateful for the change of subject. He pointed to the screen, highlighting the route they needed to take. "We'll sail for about 8 hours before reaching the next marina. We have already planned the course and I have checked the weather forecast."

As he spoke, Lucerys couldn't help but let his eyes wander back to your exposed skin. He imagined sliding his hands over your waist, feeling the dip of your hips as he pulled you closer.

"So, besides teasing the hell out of me, what do you have planned for the journey?" he asked, his tone coming out more flirtatious than he intended.

He smirked at you, leaning back in his seat and stretching his arms behind his head. This caused his t-shirt to ride up slightly, exposing a strip of his toned stomach.

You glanced at him, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of your glossy lips. "I was actually wondering if you could show me how to steer the boat," you said, arching one brow. "Just in case you get tired and I don't accidentally throw us off course," you added with a teasing lilt to your voice.

As you spoke, you leaned forward slightly, giving him an enticing view of your chest.

"I know this is expensive equipment and everything, but I'm a quick learner. I promise," you continued. "Besides, it might be fun to take control... for a change," you sighed, letting the double meaning of your words hang in the air between you.

Lucerys's gaze lingered on your breasts for a moment longer before snapping back to your face. He felt his breath hitch as you leaned forward, your tits just inches from his face.

"You want to steer the boat?" he asked, his voice slightly hoarse. He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. "I mean, I'm not sure if that's the best idea. This is a complex vessel, requiring a lot of skill to navigate properly."

He tried to think logically, but you were making it hard to do so. And even though he might not admit it, he did think you were smart and capable of steering the yacht.

"Alright, princess, I'll show you," he said, slightly rough. He could feel his mind reeling at the thought of you taking control, of you directing the boat - and perhaps directing him.

He stood up, gesturing for you to take his seat. As you brushed past him, he caught a whiff of your scent. It made his head spin and his cock throb, squeezing his eyes shut.

Lucerys watched as you settled into the captain's chair, your legs spread slightly apart. He imagined kneeling between them and burying his face inside your wet, tight cunt.

Shaking his head, Lucerys took your hand in his, guiding it to the wheel. "Okay, princess, here's what you need to do..." he said, his voice low and smooth. "Keep the boat steady and straight, just like this."

As you sat in his seat, Lucerys reached out to place your hand on the wheel, his fingers brushing against yours. He guides your hand to grip the wheel properly, his breath catching slightly at the contact.

"Okay, so first thing's first - you always want to keep your eyes on the horizon," he instructed, leaning in closer to point at the distant line where the sea met the sky. As he did, his chest pressed lightly against your shoulder, his breath warm against your ear.

"And your grip should be firm but not too tight," he continued, his voice lowering to a murmur. "You have to be in control, but not so much that you're fighting the boat's natural movement."

"Just like that," he purred, his lips grazing your earlobe. "Keep it steady, princess. Don't let anything distract you from the task at hand."

Your heart raced as the boat cut through the glistening waves, the salt spray misting your skin. You gripped the polished wood wheel tightly, your knuckles white, as you stared straight ahead at the horizon. The sun glared brightly, reflecting off the blue sea. You blinked rapidly, trying to keep your focus.

A shiver ran down your spine as you felt Lucerys' strong hands cover yours, guiding the wheel. His touch was electric, sending tingles up your arms and straight to your chest. You had to bite your lip to stifle a moan that threatened to escape.

"Am I doing good?" You asked softly, a tremor in your voice. Your pulse pounded in your ears as you waited for his response, praying he couldn't hear it. You didn't dare look at him, afraid you would lose control. Both control of the boat and control of yourself in his presence. The heat of his body against your back was intoxicating. You inhaled deeply, trying to calm your nerves.

Your hair whipped around your face in the breeze, bits sticking to your gloss. At this moment, all you cared about was impressing him, pleasing him. Making him proud.

You prayed he didn't notice how flushed and flustered you felt, how desperately you wanted to lean into his touch. You swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly dry.

"Please, just tell me I'm doing okay," you breathed out, your voice barely audible over the roar of the engine and the crashing waves. You needed his approval and craved his validation.

Lucerys leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. "You're doing amazing, princess," he murmured, his voice low and smooth. "Keep your eyes on the horizon and your grip steady. You've got this."

His hands remained covering yours on the wheel, his fingers intertwining with yours. You could feel the rough calluses on his fingertips.

Lucerys's chest pressed against your back as he leaned over you, his breath hot on your neck. "Just like that," he purred, sending shivers down your spine. "You're a natural at this."

Despite the heat of the sun and the breeze off the ocean, you felt a different kind of warmth spreading through you at his praise. Your heart raced as you tried to focus on the horizon. But it was hard to concentrate on anything else with Lucerys's strong body pressed against yours.

"Lucerys, I..." you started to say, but your words trailed off as you lost yourself in his closeness. Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt his lips brush against your neck, barely a touch but enough to set your skin on fire.

Lucerys seemed to sense your reaction, and he pulled back slightly, giving you some space. "You're doing great," he said, his voice a little rougher than before. "Just keep going like this, and we'll be at the next port in no time. Just follow the route on the screen."

Lucerys couldn't take his eyes off you as you confidently steered the boat, your hair whipping around your face and your skin glistening in the sun. The way you handled the wheel with such ease was incredibly sexy, and he felt his cock twitching again in his shorts as he watched you.

He knew he needed to get ahold of himself before he did something rash. Clearing his throat, Lucerys excused himself. "I'll be right back," he said gruffly, stepping away from the captain's chair.

"Yeah... Are you okay?" you asked him, slightly concerned for his sudden need to leave. All you received in reply was a curt nod as you watched him walk toward the bathroom.

Lucerys quickly walked to the lavatory, shutting the door behind him. As soon as he was alone, he let out a low groan, palming his aching cock through his shorts. He couldn't believe how turned on he was, how desperate he was to fuck you right then and there.

Lucerys unzipped his fly, freeing his thick, hard cock. It sprang up, already leaking pre-cum and throbbing with need, making him whimper. He wrapped a hand around it, stroking it slowly as he thought about burying it inside you.

Lucerys gripped his cock tighter, pumping it faster as he imagined you bent over the captain's chair, your bottoms pushed aside as he rammed his thick shaft deep into your dripping pussy. The image of your ass bouncing against his hips as he fucked you hard and fast, making lewd slapping sounds echoing through the cabin.

Lucerys stroked his cock faster, the lewd sounds of his hand pumping his shaft filling the small bathroom. He gritted his teeth as he pictured you spread out before him, your top ripped off to expose your perfect tits, your nipple stiff and begging for his mouth.

"Fuck..." he whined, squeezing his dick tighter as he imagined licking and sucking at your nipple, rolling it between his teeth and tugging on it. He wanted to mark your soft flesh, to leave his claiming bites all over your body.

Lucerys continued to stroke his aching cock faster, panting softly as he lost himself in his lustful fantasies of you. He imagined you looking back at him over your shoulder with those piercing, lustful eyes as he pounded into you from behind, your tits bouncing with each powerful thrust of his hips.

He could almost hear your needy moans and cries of pleasure as he fucked you harder and faster, his balls slapping against your clit. His hand moved like a blur on his shaft, squeezing and pumping, chasing the release he so desperately craved.

"Shit, fuck..." Lucerys grunted under his breath, feeling his orgasm fast approaching. His cock throbbed and pulsed in his grip as he imagined filling your tight cunt with his hot, thick seed. He wanted to pump you full of his cum, to watch it leak out of your stretched, fucked-out hole as he pulled out.

With a final, harsh thrust of his hips, Lucerys came undone. Thick, creamy ropes of cum erupted from his cock, splattering against the bathroom wall and floor as he rode out the intense waves of his climax. He gripped the edge of the sink tightly, his knuckles turning white as he struggled to stay silent, not wanting to alert you to his lewd activities, slumped against the wall, trying to catch his breath as he came down from his intense orgasm.

After a few intense moments, Lucerys finally caught his breath. He grabbed some tissue paper to clean up the mess he had made, wiping his softening cock and throwing the soiled paper in the toilet before flushing it away.

Lucerys took a few deep breaths, trying to regain his composure before stepping out of the bathroom and making his way back to the main cabin.

He couldn't help but feel a rush of desire and shame as he watched you, remembering the fantasies that had just played out in his mind. He knew he needed to get ahold of himself before he did something rash.

You glanced over at Lucerys, your brow arched in concern as you took in his dishevelled appearance. "You alright? You rushed off pretty suddenly," you teased, your voice laced with playful worry. "Don't tell me the big, brave captain is getting seasick?" You smirked, your eyes sparkling with mischief as they raked over his wind-tossed hair and flushed cheeks.

Your hands still gripped the wheel, keeping the boat on course as you studied Lucerys intently. You couldn't help but feel a thrill at the thought that maybe, just maybe, his sudden disappearance and dishevelled state had something to do with you. The way he looked at you, with those dark, hungry eyes, made your heart race and your skin prickle with goosebumps.

"Seriously though, are you okay?" You asked, your tone softening with genuine concern as you searched his face for any sign of illness or distress. "We're in the middle of the ocean, and I don't fancy swimming back to shore if something happens to you," you joked, trying to lighten the mood.

As you spoke, you couldn't help but let your gaze linger on his broad shoulders and muscular arms, remembering the feeling of his hands covering yours on the wheel. You swallowed hard, pushing down the flutter of nerves and excitement in your chest.

"Just say the word if you need a break," you added, your voice a little breathless. "I can handle the helm for a while longer." You flashed him a warm, encouraging smile, eager to ensure he was all right and ready to continue our journey together.

Lucerys felt his cheeks flush even redder at your teasing question, realising that his sudden disappearance must have seemed suspicious. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to play off his apparent flustered state.

"No, no, I'm fine," he said, forcing a laugh. "Just needed a moment. Too much sun, I guess." He shrugged, hoping that excuse would suffice. He couldn't exactly tell you the real reason - that he had snuck off to jerk off in the bathroom because he was so fucking turned on by you.

Lucerys's gaze drifted down your body, taking in the tantalizing peek of your cleavage that was on display thanks to your leaned-forward position. He had to force himself to look away before he lost control and pounced on you right then and there.

"Thanks for the concern though," he said, his voice strained. "I really do appreciate you taking the helm. It's impressive, seeing you handle the wheel with such confidence." His eyes flicked back to your face, his expression softening with what almost looked like admiration.

Lucerys knew he needed to pull himself together, to act like the seasoned sailor and not a horny teenage boy. "Just keep going like this, princess," he instructed, his voice low and smooth. "Nice and steady. You're a natural at this."

"This looks good on you," Lucerys murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Seeing you captaining the boat with such confidence... fuck, it's kind of sexy." He swallowed hard, realising he had spoken his thoughts out loud.

Lucerys quickly stepped back, clearing his throat. "Uh, I mean... you look good doing anything," he corrected, trying to backtrack. "But I like seeing you in your element like this."

He knew he was treading on thin ice, saying things that flirted with the line of propriety. But he couldn't help himself when it came to you. Every moment in your presence felt charged with a crackling energy, an electricity that made his skin tingle.

You whipped around as you stared at him in disbelief. "Did I hear that right? Did you just call me... sexy?" You asked, your voice pitching up in an incredulous giggle.

Lucerys felt his cheeks burn even hotter at your unbelieving reaction to his slip of the tongue. He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly feeling like a teenager again instead of a man.

"Don't read too much into it," he said, waving his hand dismissively. "It was just a slip of the tongue." He tried to brush it off, but the way he avoided your gaze made it clear he was lying.

Lucerys shook his head slightly, trying to dislodge the lustful thoughts. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," he said, his voice a little strained. "I just... I think you're beautiful. But I shouldn't have said it out loud like that." He rubbed the back of his neck, looking away in embarrassment.

Despite his flustered state, he couldn't deny the way his cock hardened in his shorts at the thought of grabbing your tits, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh. He wanted to dip his head down and take one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and licking until it hardened under his tongue.

"Anyway, just focus on steering the boat," he said, his voice a little hoarse. "The faster we get to the next port, the faster we can... get some rest." The last two words came out a little strangled, betraying the true meaning behind them - that he desperately wanted to fuck your brains out.

You reluctantly stepped away from the wheel, your arms aching from gripping it for so long. "Alright... you can take over," you said, your voice a bit strained as you stretched your arms above your head, trying to work out the kinks. "My arms are starting to cramp up."

As you moved aside, you couldn't help but glance at Lucerys, a hint of shyness in your eyes. You fidgeted with the hem of your short coverup, suddenly feeling self-conscious under his intense gaze.

"I can keep you company though if you want," you offered awkwardly, your cheeks flushing slightly as you switched your gaze between him and the floor.

Lucerys felt his cheeks burn even hotter at your shy offer, realizing you must have noticed his flustered state. He quickly shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck in a nervous gesture.

"No, that's okay," he said, trying to sound casual even as his voice came out a little strained. "I've got this. I'm used to navigating on my own, with or without... company."

Lucerys took a deep breath, trying to collect himself. "Why don't you go and... relax for a bit?" he suggested, gesturing vaguely towards the cabin. "You've earned a break after steering us this far."

He forced a smile, hoping it would put you at ease even as he internally cursed himself for his evident awkwardness. He knew he needed to get a grip before saying or doing something he would regret.

Lucerys couldn't help but let his gaze linger on your body as you stretched, your cover-up riding up to expose a strip of your midriff. He swallowed hard, his mouth going dry at the glimpse of skin. Fuck, you were gorgeous, and he was quickly losing his ability to think straight around you.

"I'm fine, really," he said, his voice rougher than he intended.

Lucerys knew he needed to regain his composure before he acted impulsively, like pulling you into his arms and kissing you until you were both breathless. He had to remember his place, even though every fibre of his being screamed at him to cross the line and take what he desired.

Instead, he approached the wheel and gripped it firmly as he gazed at the horizon, trying to concentrate on anything other than the alluring sight of you. "I'll call you if I need anything," he promised, his tone slightly strained.

You hesitated, a flicker of uncertainty crossing your face as you searched Lucerys's expression for any hint of what you might have done wrong. "Okay..." you replied softly, a slight frown tugging at your lips.

Puzzled and slightly hurt by his sudden dismissal, you turned and wandered slowly towards the bedroom, your bare feet padding softly on the polished wooden floor. You could feel his gaze on your back, burning into your skin as you retreated.

Lucerys let out a low groan as he watched you walk away, his eyes glued to the mesmerizing sway of your hips and the tantalizing peek of skin. He hated feeling like he had to push you away, but he knew it was for the best. He couldn't trust himself not to act on his basest instincts around you.

As he gripped the wheel tighter, he took a deep breath, trying to will away the throbbing ache in his cock. It was hard to focus on anything but the urge to march into that bedroom and take what he wanted from you.

Reaching the bedroom, you climbed onto the plush bed, the silky sheets cool against your sun-warmed skin. You laid back, staring up at the ceiling.

As you lay there, you couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted between you, the easy company and flirtation of before replaced by a sudden tension. Did you say something wrong? Did you offend him? The thought made your stomach twist uncomfortably.

However, your contemplation was interrupted by a loud ding from your phone.

"Heyyy! How's the trip, beautiful?"

A text from Addam. You giggled as you read his message, blushing like a schoolgirl at the endearment. At least someone still found you charming and desirable.

"Heyy! The trip is going well atm. Lucerys has been surprisingly okay... so far"

You attached a selfie you had taken earlier, showcasing your round ass in the skimpy swimsuit as you posed provocatively in the mirror. You knew he wouldn't mind seeing that.

Addam's eyes widened as he saw the seductive selfie you had sent, his heart pounding in his chest at the sight of your gorgeous ass barely contained by the scanty swimsuit. He licked his lips hungrily, feeling his cock stiffen in his pants as he drank in every delectable inch of your curves.

"Fuck, you look good enough to eat," he typed back, his fingers trembling slightly as he tried to focus on the screen. "I wish I was there with you right now, bending you over and fucking that pretty ass until you screamed."

Addam's cock throbbed insistently in his pants as he stared at the photo, his mind racing with filthy thoughts of all the things he wanted to do to your sexy body. He palmed himself through his slacks, biting back a groan.

"God, I want to grab two big handfuls of that perfect ass and spread your cheeks apart, exposing your tight little holes. I bet that hot cunt of yours is dripping wet right now, desperate to be filled by a thick, hard cock," he typed back, his breath coming faster as he imagined pinning you down and pounding into you without mercy.

Addam knew he shouldn't be saying vulgar things, but he couldn't help himself. The sight of your gorgeous curves consistently reduced him to a lust-crazed beast. "I want to fuck you so hard, right there on that bed. I bet Lucerys is just as turned on by you as I am - has he tried anything yet? I wouldn't be surprised if he couldn't resist your charms any longer."

He hit send, hoping you would understand the intensity of his desire, even as part of him felt a pang of jealousy at the thought of you with Lucerys.

You gasped aloud as you read Addam's scandalously suggestive message, your cheeks flushing a deep pink. You couldn't believe he had actually written such vulgar words! The Addam you knew was always such a perfect gentleman. Had your trip with Lucerys brought out a hidden, carnal side of him?

With trembling fingers, you rapidly typed a teasing reply, hoping to stoke his jealousy and desire.

"You'd be happy to know he hasn't tried anything... yet. But I don't know how long he could resist me. You should have used your chance when you had one ;)"

You hit send before you lost your nerve, biting your lip to stifle a giddy giggle. The knowledge that you had Addam worked up into such a frenzy sent thrills of excitement racing through your veins. You knew you shouldn't lead him on like this, but you couldn't help yourself. You were feeling bold and you craved the attention.

You felt a damp patch appearing on the crotch of your bottoms, and you shivered. Addam's crude words had gotten you embarrassingly aroused. You squirmed on the bed, squeezing your thighs together as you imagined Lucerys's hands instead, groping your ass just like Addam had described. The thought of him pinning you down and fucking you hard sent a rush of wetness flooding your core.

You nervously glanced at the time, realizing you still had hours left until you reached the pier. Suddenly, being cooped up in the bedroom seemed far too dull. You had to find a way to pass the time.

Addam's heart raced as he read your teasing reply, his cock throbbing almost painfully in his slacks at the thought of Lucerys resisting the urge to fuck you senseless. He couldn't blame the guy - if he were there with you, he knew he wouldn't be able to hold back from pinning you down and burying his face between your thighs, lapping at your dripping cunt until you screamed.

"Fuck, you can't say shit like that and expect me not to go crazy," he typed back, his fingers flying over the keys. "If I was there, I would have already had you spread open and begging for cock, you teasing minx. I bet that pretty little pussy is fucking soaked right now, isn't it? Desperate to be filled and stretched by a big, hard dick?"

He paused, trying to collect himself before continuing. "I should have never let you go on this trip. I should be the one pinning you down and pounding into your needy cunt until you're screaming my name. Instead, I'm stuck here, achingly hard and leaking just from thinking about Lucerys seeing you in that sexy little swimsuit."

Addam's heart pounded as he hit send, hoping his message would stoke the flames of your arousal. He desperately wished he could be there with you right now, worshipping every inch of your glorious body until you were writhing and begging for his cock. But for now, he could only keep talking dirty to you, imagining you getting wetter and hotter with each filthy word.

You whimpered aloud as you read Addam's shamefully lewd messages, your core clenching with need. "Fuck," you gasped, your hand drifting down to cup your aching sex through the damp fabric of your bottoms. You bucked your hips desperately, trying in vain to find some relief from the throbbing ache between your thighs.

"Addam, you can't tease me like this! :(" You sent back, your fingers trembling as you typed out a pouty message. His vulgar words had you dripping wet, but it was Lucerys's touch you craved. You were trapped on this damn boat with him for a week, and you had no way to relieve the constant, gnawing desire burning through your veins.

You squirmed on the bed, squeezing your legs together as you imagined Lucerys finally snapping and pinning you down, yanking your swimsuit to the side, and sinking his hard cock deep into your soaked, needy cunt. The thought made you moan, your fingers pressing harder against your cloth-covered slit.

But alas, it was just your fingers, not Lucerys's, bringing you closer to the edge. You were stuck in this cabin, at the mercy of your lewd fantasies and a frustrating lack of satisfaction. You just prayed you could make it through the rest of this trip without completely losing your mind.

Addam's eyes widened as he read your desperate plea. He couldn't stand the thought of you suffering from such an intense, unfulfilled desire.

He paused, trying to find the right words to soothe you even as his own cock throbbed insistently, aching to provide the relief you craved.

"If it gets too bad, baby, don't hesitate to take matters into your own hands," he messaged, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "I want you to touch yourself for me, to imagine it's my fingers sinking deep into your hungry little holes as I finger fuck your cunt until you're dripping and begging for more."

Addam's heart raced as he typed out his scandalously suggestive message, his cock pulsing with need as he imagined you touching yourself for his viewing pleasure. He knew it was wrong to encourage such wanton behaviour, especially since you were stuck on a boat with his rival, but he couldn't help himself.

"Fuck," you typed, sinking your fingers deep into your soaked, needy cunt as his filthy words sent shocks of pleasure racing through you. "It feels so fucking good, but I can't help imagining it's your big, thick cock stretching me open instead."

You bucked your hips, plunging your fingers in and out of your dripping sex as you pictured him and Lucerys taking turns fucking you senseless. The mental image of the two tall, handsome men using you like a little toy, their hard cocks claiming your hungry holes over and over, made you throb with desire.

"Mmm, I'm so fucking wet thinking about you and Lucerys taking turns pounding into me until I'm a brainless, cock-drunk mess," you wrote. "Please Addam, I need your touch so badly. I wish it was your fingers sinking into my tight little pussy right now."

Addam groaned as he read your passionate, erotic message, his cock jerking in his pants as he imagined sinking his fingers deep into your dripping, needy cunt. He couldn't believe how brazenly you spoke of your fantasies involving both him and his competitor. It was so wrong, but it only made him want you more.

He paused, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he typed out his following message. "You like the idea of Lucerys and I taking turns pounding into your tight little holes, don't you? Of us using your sexy body for our pleasure, fucking you senseless until you're nothing but a brainless, cock-drunk slut?"

He paused, his cock leaking pre-cum into his boxers as he imagined the delicious sight of your slick walls gripping his cock hungrily. He started palming himself slowly over his slacks, groaning at the friction.

You gasped softly, sinking two fingers knuckle-deep into your soaked, aching sex. Your hips bucked instinctively, as you plunged them in and out, coating them with your dripping arousal. The obscene wet sounds of your fingers pumping into your hungry cunt filled your ears, making you flush with humiliation and lust.

"Fuck, I'm so fucking wet," you panted silently, trying to muffle your desperate whimpers. You couldn't let Lucerys hear you touching yourself like this, couldn't let him know how you were shamelessly fucking yourself on his boat.

Not that it mattered - the expensive silk sheets beneath you were already damp with your juices, a tangible testament to your shameful need.

"Please," you silently begged, even as a part of you felt guilty for lusting after Lucerys while toying with Addam. Tossing the phone to the side to focus on bringing yourself to a peak.

As Lucerys steered the yacht towards the setting sun, he couldn't help but hear strange noises coming from the berth. Mewling and soft whines stemming from behind the bedroom door.

Curiosity overcoming him, Lucerys quietly approached the bedroom door, pressing his ear against it to listen more closely. The sounds of your soft moans and the slick, wet noises of fingers plunging into a dripping cunt filled his ears, making his cock immediately stiffen in his pants. He swallowed back a groan as he realized it was you touching yourself.

Lucerys stumbled back from the door, his face flushing bright red as he processed the incredibly erotic sounds coming from within the bedroom. He couldn't believe his ears - was that really you, moaning and panting so desperately as you fingered your needy little cunt? You had always turned down his subtle advances yet now you were fucking yourself on your shared bed?

His cock started to slowly harden in his pants as he listened to the obscene wet sounds of your fingers pumping in and out of your soaked folds. He palmed roughly through his jeans, biting back a groan at the delicious friction.

Lucerys knew he should walk away, and give you privacy and space, but he found himself unable to tear himself away from the door. He was utterly transfixed, his body burning with lust as he listened to you pleasure yourself so wantonly.

Panting heavily, you collapsed back onto the damp silk sheets, your body still trembling from the aftershocks of your intense climax. "Oh fuck," you gasped out loud, completely oblivious to the fact that Lucerys had been listening in.

Your hair was splayed out messily around your head, clinging to your flushed face as you tried to catch your breath. You could feel your heart pounding wildly in your chest, and your skin was flushed and tingling all over. The wet spot on the sheets beneath your ass had grown larger, a testament to just how desperately aroused and worked up you had been.

Lucerys closed his eyes and groaned under his breath as he heard you cum, whining loudly. He apprehensively staggered away from the door, breathing heavily and unevenly. He knew there was no way you didn't hear that groan he'd let out.

He left quickly before you could find out that he had heard you. Lucerys groaned softly as he staggered back down the hallway, adjusting his pants to try to hide the massive erection that was now straining against the fabric. He knew he should have walked away when he realised what was happening behind that door. But the sounds of your desperate moans and the slick, wet noises of you pleasuring yourself had been too much for him to resist.

He stumbled into the little galley kitchen, pouring a glass of cold water. He downed it in one long gulp, hoping it would take the edge off the fierce lust burning through his veins. But it was no use.

Lucerys knew he couldn't go back out there like this, not with his cock this fucking hard and aching for your touch. He needed to calm down somehow.

Shaking his head he slowly made his way back to the wheel.

Lucerys groaned softly as he stepped back onto the deck, his cock still straining against his pants. He tried to focus on steering the boat, but his mind kept drifting back to the sound of your desperate moans.

Hopelessly trying to regain his composure, Lucerys gripped the wheel tightly as he stared out at the darkening horizon. The salty sea breeze washed over his flushed face, but it did little to cool the burning desire coursing through his veins. He couldn't stop from imagining the erotic image of you splayed out on the silk sheets, your hair tangled and skin glistening with sweat as you brought yourself to a climax.

Lucerys shook his head slightly, trying to dislodge the lusty thoughts. He knew he shouldn't be thinking about you like this, especially after overhearing your display of self-pleasure. But fuck, the way you had moaned and whimpered, the obscene wet sounds of your fingers plunging into your dripping cunt... it had set his blood on fire.

He adjusted himself in his pants, trying to find a more comfortable position for his painfully hard cock. It was useless though, and he knew he would have to take matters into his own hands eventually. The question was, would he be able to resist the urge to storm back into that cabin and pin you down, sinking his aching shaft deep into your needy hole until you were screaming his name?

Lucerys swallowed thickly, trying to focus on the task at hand. They still had hours left until they reached the pier, and he knew he would have to keep it together. But fuck, it was going to be a long night with you just a few feet away, your scent still lingering in the air and your desperate moans echoing in his mind.

He took a deep breath, gripping the wheel tighter as he stared at the darkening sea. He had to get a grip, had to keep his lust in check. But deep down, he knew it was only a matter of time before he snapped and took what he wanted - before he had you naked, wrists bound and legs spread wide as he fucked you into submission.

Slowly and hesitantly, you exited the bedroom, feeling bashful and flustered after your private activities. You quickly changed into a tight top and denim shorts, wanting a change of clothes after the intense session you just had. Your hair was still slightly dishevelled, and your eyes had a dreamy, faraway look as you approached Lucerys at the helm.

"Hey there," you said softly, a faint blush still colouring your cheeks as you glanced at him.

You bit your lip, feeling a twinge of embarrassment as you remembered how loudly you had moaned and whimpered while touching yourself. You hoped Lucerys hadn't overheard your display. The thought made your blush deepen.

"We should be at the pier in two hours, right?" You remarked, trying to change the subject to something more neutral. In truth, the boat suddenly felt a little too small and claustrophobic, especially with the sexual tension hanging heavily in the air between you. You needed fresh air and a distraction before you lost your mind from your constant desire for Lucerys's touch.

Lucerys tensed as you approached, his body still thrumming with lust. He took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to regain his composure before turning to face you with a strained smile. "Hey," he replied shortly, his voice slightly hoarse.

He could feel the sexual tension crackling between you, as thick and heavy as the humidity in the air. He knew you must have heard him groan, must have known he had been listening to you fuck yourself stupid on the bed. Lucerys clenched his jaw, trying to hold back the filthy words that wanted to spill from his lips.

He swallowed thickly, trying to push away the lustful thoughts that had been consuming his mind. "Yeah, about two more hours," he replied, slightly raspy.

He couldn't help but notice the way you blushed and bit your lip nervously. Did you know what you had done? Did you have any idea of the effect your wanton moans and the slick sounds of you fucking yourself had on him? Lucerys wondered.

He turned his gaze back to the horizon, watching the sun slowly sink below the waves. The sky was painted orange, pink, and red–casting a warm glow over the water. But even that breathtaking sight paled to the beauty of you standing beside him, still flushed and dishevelled from your private activities.

"It's a beautiful night," he said lamely, hating how awkward his voice sounded. He wanted to say so much more, to tell you how desperately he wanted to bend you over the railing and fuck you until you screamed, but he held his tongue.

Lucerys shifted his stance slightly, trying to alleviate some of the pressure on his painfully hard cock. Take a deep breath, Lucerys told himself, trying to calm down. He knew he had to keep it together, to act like a gentleman in front of his guest. But fuck, it was getting harder and harder to resist the temptation you presented.

You glanced at the stunning sunset, the vibrant oranges and pinks streaking across the sky, taking your breath away. It was absolutely gorgeous but not as breathtaking as the way Lucerys looked right now–his chiselled jaw clenched, and his eyes darkened with hunger. You could feel the sexual tension rolling off him in waves, making your skin prickle.

"I thought I'd come to keep you company..." you said softly, dropping your gaze shyly. You perched yourself on the seat beside, clutching your phone tightly. It buzzed occasionally with messages from Addam, but you couldn't bring yourself to care right now. Not with the way Lucerys was looking at you, his eyes roaming over your body like a physical caress.

You crossed your legs, feeling the soft denim of your shorts stretch across your thighs. You could feel Lucerys's gaze lingering on your backside, and you had to resist the urge to squirm. Did he know what you had been doing just moments before? Could he hear the echoes of your desperate moans and the slick sounds of your dripping cunt? The thought made you blush, and you looked away, trying to hide your flushed cheeks.

You could still feel the lingering ache between your thighs, the throbbing emptiness that cried out to be filled. And god, you wanted him to be the one to do it. You wanted to feel his strong hands gripping your hips, his hard cock sinking deep into your tight heat as he fucked you hard and fast, just like you had imagined earlier. The thought alone made you clench around nothing.

"Thanks. I was already getting bored here," Lucerys said softly, voice low and slightly rough.

"Did you have a good rest?" He asked teasingly, hoping to get a reaction out of you, hinting at the desire coursing through his veins. He knew he shouldn't ask, but he couldn't help himself. He wanted to know everything about you, even the most intimate details.

You tensed at Lucerys's question, feeling embarrassment wash over you. "A good rest?" You repeated, your voice coming out slightly breathless. "I, um. I guess you could say that," you mumbled, unable to meet his intense gaze.

"I just, um. I was talking with Addam for a bit. He texted me," you said lamely, trying to change the subject. You sat up straight, clutching your phone tightly like a lifeline. In truth, Addam's texts had only fuelled your lust, making you crave Lucerys's touch even more.

Lucerys quirked an eyebrow at your mention of Addam, a flicker of jealousy flashing in his eyes. He leaned back slightly, crossing his arms over his chest as he studied your flushed face with a critical gaze. "Addam, huh? I see," he replied curtly, his tone sharp.

He couldn't help but wonder what had transpired between you, and it left a bitter taste in his mouth. However, he kept his suspicions to himself, not wanting to accuse you of anything without solid proof. Instead, he changed the subject, hoping to lighten the mood. "Well, I'm glad you could join me out here. It's a beautiful night, isn't it?" he remarked, gesturing toward the stunning sunset painting the sky.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, your cheeks still burning with embarrassment. "Really?" You asked, surprised by his sudden change of heart. "Cause you sent me away when I offered to stay with you before," you pointed out, still unable to meet his intense gaze. You could feel his eyes boring into you.

Lucerys tensed at your comment, his jaw clenching as he fought back a surge of jealousy. He knew he had been a bit of an asshole before, pushing you away when you offered to stay with him. But he had been so fucking pent up and frustrated, desperate to keep his distance from your tempting body and the way it made him feel.

But now, with the way your cheeks were flushed and your eyes avoided his, he couldn't resist. "I know, and I'm sorry for that," he said softly, his voice rough with emotion. "I just... I didn't want to make things awkward between us. But fuck, I want you here with me now," he whispered, more to himself.

"Tell me," he rasped, his voice low and rough with lust. "What were you really doing in there, sweetheart? Don't try to hide it from me. I heard every fucking sound, every desperate moan and whimper that spilt from your pretty little mouth."

You glared at Lucerys defiantly, your eyes flashing with indignation. "Oh please, don't flatter yourself," you said with a bitter laugh, rolling your eyes. "Just because I have needs doesn't mean I'm some slut. I'm not that easy."

You leaned closer, your voice dropping to a low, teasing him. "Maybe I just have a vivid imagination. Perhaps I was thinking about how good it would feel to have a real man's hands on me, making me come undone."

You couldn't admit that you had instead been thinking of him the whole time, opting for a little white lie. "Or maybe you're just jealous that Addam has the power to get me so worked up. You can't stand the thought of me wanting anyone but you, can you?"

Lucerys felt angry at your accusation, his eyes flashing with an intense, jealous fury he couldn't fully hide. But he quickly tried to reign in his temper, not wanting to let on just how much the thought of you wanting anyone else bothered him.

"Don't be ridiculous," he said shortly, his voice tight and strained. "I couldn't care less who you fuck yourself stupid thinking about. It's none of my business," he bit out, crossing his arms over his chest.

But even as he said it, Lucerys could feel the jealousy burning like acid in his stomach. The idea of you coming undone to someone else's touch, imagining Addam or anyone else bringing you to a screaming climax... it made him want to put his fist through the wall. But he refused to let you see how much it got under his skin.

Instead, he turned his gaze back to the horizon, watching the last rays of the sunset dip below the waves. "Besides, I thought you had better taste than to settle for a loser like Addam," he said coldly, unable to resist the jab. "Guess I was wrong."

You glare at Lucerys defiantly, your eyes flashing with resentment as you lean in close, jabbing a finger at his chest. "Fuck you, Lucerys!" You hiss, your voice shaking with anger and frustration. "You're the real loser here, you goddamn hypocrite! How dare you judge me for having needs when you were the one listening in on my private time like a fucking pervert? That's beyond messed up!"

Your cheeks flush an even deeper shade of red, but this time it's from rage rather than arousal. You can't believe the nerve of this guy, toying with your mind like that and then having the nerve to accuse Addam of being the loser.

You are so pissed off that you're trembling slightly. You step closer to Lucerys, refusing to back down as you stare him down angrily and disdainfully.

"And another thing, you smug bastard," you continue, your voice dropping to a low, threatening purr. "I'll fantasize about whoever the hell I want, whenever the fuck I want. Got it, asshole?" You snap, your eyes boring into his with fierce intensity.

You can feel the anger radiating off you as you stand there, your heart pounding in your chest and your breath coming fast and hard. You won't let this jerk make you feel ashamed.

Lucerys felt a pang of guilt at your accusation, realizing he had indeed overstepped a serious boundary by listening in on your private moment. But despite his feelings of remorse, he couldn't deny the way your fierce anger and indignation only served to turn him on even more. The fire in your eyes, the fury that rolled off you in waves... fuck, it was intoxicating.

But he refused to back down, his pride and jealousy fueling his stubbornness. "Temper, temper," he taunted, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth despite the anger in his eyes. "I didn't realize you were so easily provoked, princess. Guess I hit a nerve, huh?" he mocked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Lucerys had never been one for games, and he was tired of playing nice. He wanted to grab you by the hair and drag you off to his bed, fucking the attitude right out of you until you were a mewling, obedient mess.

He leaned in closer, invading your personal space as he stared down at you with a challenging glint in his purple eyes. "And you're right, I am a fucking hypocrite. I shouldn't have listened to your little solo session. But you can't blame a guy for being curious," he defended himself, his gaze dropping to your heaving chest before slowly trailing back to your flushed face.

"Curious?" You scoffed, rolling your eyes at his flimsy excuse. "More like a fucking creep, listening in on private shit. I don't care how rich and powerful you think you are, that's not normal," you snapped, jabbing your finger harder against his chest.

But even as you seethed with anger, you couldn't ignore the way your pulse raced at his proximity. Damn him for being so infuriatingly hot, even when he was acting like a manipulative asshole.

"So what? I'm supposed to just forget about it and be grateful you decided to grace me with your presence now." You spat bitterly, hating how breathy your voice sounded. "Newsflash, Your Highness - I don't give a fuck about your title or your money. You don't get to dictate who I fantasize about or what I do in my private time."

You crossed your arms over your chest as you glared at him mutinously. "You want to know why I was thinking about a real man's touch?" You hissed. "Because I'm fucking tired of boys who are too scared to go for what they really want. Guess that's why you still rely on your daddy's cash and status to get you laid, huh?"

It was a low blow, but you were beyond caring.

Lucerys froze for half a second, his smirk faltering as your words hit him like a slap. His brown eyes darkened, the teasing glint replaced by something sharper, something that burned. He leaned forward, stepping into your space, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off him.

“You want to talk about going for what you really want?” he said, his voice low and dangerous, carrying an edge that sent a shiver down your spine. “Fine. Let’s talk about it.”

His gaze locked onto yours, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe. The playful arrogance was gone, replaced by raw intensity. “You think you’ve got me all figured out, don’t you? Daddy’s cash, daddy’s status, the perfect little heir who’s too scared to make a move.” He let out a low, humourless laugh, shaking his head. “But here’s the thing, princess: I don’t need anyone’s help to get what I want.”

His voice dropped, barely above a whisper now, and the air between you felt charged, electric. “And if you really think I’m too scared to go for it, maybe you don’t know me as well as you think.”

His gaze flickered down to your lips, lingering for the briefest of moments before snapping back to your eyes. “So tell me,” he continued, his tone equal parts challenge and provocation, “if I’m just a boy hiding behind his daddy’s money, what does that make you? The girl who can’t stop thinking about him?”

The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating, as his words hung in the air. He didn’t move, didn’t back away, waiting for your response like a predator waiting to strike. There was no smirk this time, no playful banter. Just Lucerys, raw and unfiltered, daring you to challenge him.

Your jaw tightened, and you refused to step back, even though his proximity made your pulse hammer in your ears. The way he looked at you, like he was peeling back every layer and exposing something raw and vulnerable, made your skin prickle with defiance. If he thought he could rattle you, he had another thing coming.

"Thinking about you?” you scoffed, your voice sharp and biting. “Don’t flatter yourself, Velaryon. You might like to believe you’re the centre of the universe but trust me, you’re barely a passing thought.” You took a step closer, your chin tilting up in challenge. “And if you think I’m the one who can’t stop thinking about someone, maybe you should look in the mirror.”

His lips parted, but you didn’t let him speak, pressing on with a venomous smirk. “What’s wrong, Lucerys? Mad that someone finally called you out? I can’t help it if your fragile ego can't handle the truth. You act so untouchable, as nothing fazes you, but here you are, standing so close it’s like you’re trying to prove something. So what is it? What are you trying so hard to convince me of?”

You let your words sink in, watching the flicker of something in his eyes—anger, desire, or maybe both. “Face it, Velaryon,” you said, your voice softening but losing none of its sharpness. “You don’t intimidate me, and you never will.” You leaned in just enough for him to feel the weight of your defiance, your voice dropping to a whisper. “So go ahead. Keep talking about what you want. But don’t act surprised when you find out you’ll never have it.”

You clenched your fists at your sides, trying to keep your breathing steady as Lucerys stared you down, his smug, infuriating smirk firmly in place. That smirk—God, it made you want to scream, to shove him off the boat, to—

“Are you done?” he drawled, tilting his head as if you were an amusing sideshow act. “Or are you planning to stomp your feet like a spoiled little brat some more?”

“Brat?” you spat, your voice rising despite yourself. “Oh, that’s rich, coming from the guy who’s never worked a day in his life! You think you’re so superior, but underneath all that charm, you’re just another spoiled, overgrown man-child!”

His smirk fell, just for a second, but it was enough to give you a flicker of satisfaction.

“Say what you want about me,” he said, stepping closer, his tone low and deliberate. “But at least I’m honest about who I am. You, on the other hand? You’re so busy trying to act like you don’t care, like you’re above it all, but it’s bullshit. You care. More than you want to admit.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “What the hell are you even talking about?”

Lucerys leaned in, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “Oh, come on. You can’t seriously think I haven’t noticed the way you look at me when you think I’m not paying attention. Like you’re trying to figure out whether you hate me or…” His eyes flicked to your lips, just for a heartbeat, before snapping back to yours. “Or something else entirely.”

Your heart thundered in your chest, the heat of his words wrapping around you like a vice. You opened your mouth to fire back, to tear him down with the sharpest words you could muster—but what came out instead made your blood run cold.

“I was actually starting to like you, but clearly, that was a mistake.”

The words tumbled out before you could stop them, hanging between you like an admission of guilt. Your stomach dropped, dread coiling in your gut as you saw the shift in Lucerys’ expression.

His brows shot up, and for the first time since you’d met him, he seemed genuinely taken aback. But the surprise didn’tlast long. It melted away, replaced by something darker, something more serious that made the space between you feel suddenly, impossibly small.

“Starting to like me?” he repeated, his voice low and rough, like he was testing the words, tasting them on his tongue. “Funny, because I haven’t just liked you. I’ve been losing my goddamn mind over you since day one.”

You blinked, your breath hitching as the confession slammed into you with the force of a wave. “What—”

“I’m serious,” he interrupted, his tone fierce, desperate. He reached out, his hand brushing against your arm. “You drive me insane. Every word out of your mouth, every look, every time you roll those pretty eyes at me—it’s like you’re in my head, and I can’t get you out. Believe me, I’ve tried.”

His fingers tightened slightly, grounding you as your mind spun. “And you think I’m scared?” he continued, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I’m not scared of you. I’m scared of what you’re doing to me, how you’re making me feel things I don’t know how to handle. You say you want a real man? Fine. Here I am, standing right in front of you, telling you I want you.”

Your pulse raced as his words sank in, each one like a spark igniting a fire in your chest. But instead of pulling away, instead of shutting him down like you’d always done before, you stayed frozen in place, your body betraying you as your breath came quicker and shallower.

A part of you wanted to give in, to let him consume you completely as he desired. But you couldn't. You had to stay strong, to keep your head clear. You had to step back, couldn't let him consume you whole.

Distracted, you found yourself blurting out, "Make sure you save the data from today's sail..." Your voice sounded strained and thin to your own ears. You were acutely aware of every place where your bodies touched, every point of contact sending sparks skittering across your skin.

The words felt hollow, a pathetic attempt to sound unaffected, but you couldn’t care. Without waiting for a response, you shoved the door open and stepped outside, letting it slam shut behind you.

The cool sea breeze hit you like a wave, sharp and stinging against your flushed skin. You leaned against the railing, gripping it tightly as if it could anchor you, your heart pounding so hard it felt like it might break free of your chest.

You stared out at the endless expanse of water, desperate to quiet the storm raging inside you. But it was no use. His words still echoed in your head, wrapping around you like a siren’s song you couldn’t escape.

Lucerys felt his heart clench painfully in his chest as you tore yourself from his grasp and fled, leaving him standing there alone with the weight of his confession hanging heavily between them. He watched you go, his eyes dark and haunted as he struggled to process the whirlwind of emotions coursing through him.

For a long moment, he stood rooted to the spot, his mind reeling as he tried to make sense of the intensity of his feelings for you. He had never experienced anything like this before, this all-consuming, desperate need to possess and be possessed by another person. It was terrifying and exhilarating, and he didn't know how to handle it.

But as the initial shock wore off, Lucerys felt a surge of determination rise up inside him. He refused to let you slip away that easily, to run from the undeniable chemistry that crackled between you like electricity. No, he would chase you to the ends of the earth if he had to, until he had you exactly where he wanted you - naked, willing, and completely at his mercy.

Lucerys stood there, his heart pounding wildly in his chest as he stared at the empty space where you had just been. He could still feel the ghost of your touch, the way your body had pressed against his, soft and warm and achingly perfect. Fuck, he wanted you so badly that it physically hurt, like a constant ache in his gut that only your presence could soothe.

He dragged a hand through his hair, his fingers trembling slightly as he tried to regain his composure. This was new territory for him, this intense, overwhelming need to have someone, to claim them and make them his own. He'd never felt anything like it before, not with any of the countless women who had thrown themselves at him over the years. With you, it was different. It was everything.

Lucerys's mind raced as he tried to figure out his next move. He knew he should give you space, let you cool off and come back to him on your own terms. But the thought of you slipping away, of losing you before he'd even had a chance to truly have you... it made his heart hurt.

No, he couldn't let that happen. He wouldn't. He would chase you down, corner you, pin you against the wall until you had no choice but to listen to him. To hear him.

Lucerys took a deep breath, his jaw clenching with determination as he kept sailing the boat towards the marina. In just a few hours he will have you... with no distractions.

Lucerys's mind raced as he kept sailing, his thoughts consumed by you. The way you felt pressed against him, the taste of your skin, the sound of your breathy moans... it was all he could think about. He couldn't focus on anything else, not even the task.

As the sun began to set and the marina came into view, Lucerys felt a surge of anticipation and nervousness. He knew that once he had you alone, he wouldn't be able to control himself. He would take you, claim you, make you his completely.And God help him, but he couldn't fucking wait.

Lucerys's hands gripped the wheel tighter, his knuckles turning white as he steered the boat towards the dock. He could see the lights of the marina growing closer, the sound of music and laughter carrying across the water. But all he could focus on was you, the way your body had felt against his, the scent of your skin lingering in his nose.

He knew he should slow down, should take his time docking the boat. But he was too impatient, too desperate to get to you.

Your heart hammered wildly in your chest as you sat on the deck chair, desperately taking long drags of your vape. But no matter how much smoke you inhaled, your nerves only seemed to worsen. You couldn't shake the memory of Lucerys' intense confession, the way his eyes had burned into yours with such raw, desperate hunger. It made your skin prickle and your core throb.

As the dock came into view, panic washed over you. There was no escape now, no way to avoid the impending confrontation with Lucerys. You were trapped on this damn boat, just the two of you and the pounding of the waves against the hull. You knew you couldn't run from this, from him, not with only one bed on board.

Hastily, you jumped up from the chair and made your way to the cabin, needing to compose yourself before you faced him. You caught your reflection in the mirror - your hair was a wild mess, your eyes were wide and wild, your cheeks flushed a deep, telling pink. You looked like a wreck, like a woman on the verge of losing her mind... and maybe you were.

You paced around the small space, your breaths coming in short, sharp gasps. You felt like a caged animal, desperate to break free but unable to escape the predator stalking you from the shadows. Lucerys... fuck, why did he have to be so intense, so consuming? Why did he make you feel this way like you were drowning in a sea of your own desire?

The engine suddenly stuttered to a stop, jolting you out of your panicked thoughts. Shit. He was here, he was close, and you weren't ready. You weren't sure you would ever be prepared.

Your heart raced as you crept toward the window, peeking out at the marina and holding on to hope that he had somehow forgotten your heated conversation earlier. But deep down, you knew it was futile.

Lucerys climbed onto the dock, his muscles flexing beneath his shirt as he secured the boat to the pillar. He could feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins, his heart pounding in anticipation of seeing you again. He knew you couldn't run from him forever, that eventually, you would have to face the undeniable connection between you.

As he strode towards the cabin, Lucerys took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing thoughts. But it was no use - all he could focus on was the pounding of his heart, the desperate ache in his gut that demanded to be filled by you.

He pushed open the door to the cabin, his eyes immediately finding yours in the dim lighting. For a moment, he stood there, drinking in the sight of you - your wild hair, your flushed cheeks, the way your tits heaved with each panicked breath. Fuck, you looked like a fucking goddess, like a dream made flesh. And he wanted to ruin you, to claim every inch of your body until you were marked as his and his alone.

"You can't run from this," Lucerys said softly, his voice low and rough with emotion. He stepped closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours as he invaded your space. "From us. I won't let you."

Your heart raced as you turned around and pressed your back against the cool glass window, your breath catching in your throat as Lucerys approached you with slow, deliberate steps. You were trapped, cornered, with nowhere to run or hide.

"L-Lucerys," you stammered out, your voice shaky and breathless. You could feel the blood rushing in your ears as he invaded your space. You tried to meet his intense gaze but found yourself unable to hold it for long, your eyes darting nervously away.

You could see the hunger burning in his eyes, the raw, desperate need that made your core throb and ache with longing. You knew you should be fearful, should be running for the hills at the sheer intensity of his obsession. But instead, you felt a thrill of excitement.

Lucerys grasped your chin firmly, forcing your gaze to meet his as he loomed over you. He could feel the way your breath hitched, the way your pulse raced beneath his fingertips. It made him feel powerful, and invincible, like he could take on the world and emerge victorious. As long as he had you.

"I meant what I said earlier," Lucerys murmured, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip and leaving a trail of fire in its wake. "I'm fucking obsessed with you. I can't think about anything else, can't focus on anything but you."

Lucerys leaned in closer, his face mere inches from yours as he pinned you against the window with his hips. "Don't you get it? I want to fucking devour you, consume you until there's nothing left. I want to ruin you for anyone else, make it so you can never even look at another man without thinking of me."

You gasped quietly, a soft sound that escaped your lips as you turned your face to the side, biting your lower lip to suppress the intensity of sensations. Your eyes fluttered shut for a brief moment, savouring the tension that hung between you. Your back instinctively arched against him, the warmth of his body sending shivers down your spine, your chest brushing against his deliciously.

"Don't make empty promises," you breathed softly, your voice barely above a whisper, as your gaze met his. Looking up at him through your lashes, your pupils wide with desire, your heart racing in the stillness of the moment.

Lucerys's eyes darkened with lust at your breathy words, his grip on your chin tightening slightly. "Empty promises? I never make empty promises," he growled, his voice a low rumble in his chest. "I always follow through... on everything."

To prove his point, Lucerys crashed his lips against yours in a bruising kiss, making you gasp softly. A breathy mewl escaped your lips as Lucerys claimed your mouth in a searing kiss. He was pouring all of his longing and frustration into the heated embrace. Lucerys licked into your mouth, his tongue delving deep to taste you, to claim you.

Your own desire ignited like a wildfire in your veins, and you found yourself kissing him back with equal passion, your hands sliding eagerly under his shirt to caress the hard planes of his chest.

Lucerys tore his mouth from yours, both of you breathing heavily as he attacked your neck next. He sucked and bit at the sensitive skin, determined to mark you as his own. "Fuck, you taste even better than I imagined," he panted against your throat, his fingers sliding under your shirt to caress the soft skin of your stomach.

Lucerys' hands were everywhere, groping and squeezing, igniting sparks of pleasure that made you writhe against him. When his mouth found your neck, you threw your head back with a whimper, your fingers clawing his chest as he sucked and bit at your racing pulse. You felt dizzy, drunk on the sensation of finally having him touch you like this, his touch leaving you breathless and aching for more.

Your hips rolled instinctively against his, feeling the hard, thick length of his cock against your lower stomach. It made you throb, made you clench around the emptiness inside you, desperate to be filled by him. You wanted to touch him everywhere, to map out every inch of his toned body. Your hands slid lower, teasing along the waistband of his pants, your heart pounding.

Lucerys shuddered as you touched the waistband of his pants, his hips bucking forward involuntarily as he sought more of your touch. He was already so fucking hard, his cock pressing against the confines of his jeans, begging to be freed.

Unable to resist the temptation of your tits any longer, Lucerys slid his hands up your sides, pushing your shirt up and exposing them to his hungry gaze. He cupped the soft mounds, his thumbs brushing over the stiff peaks of your nipples, feeling them tighten even further beneath his touch.

"Fuck, I've wanted this for so long" Lucerys growled, his voice rough with lust. "Can't wait to get my mouth on these perfect tits."

In a flash of movement, Lucerys ripped your shirt over your head, tossing it carelessly to the side. He dipped his head and took one hardened nub into his mouth, suckling and flicking it with his tongue as his hand continued to knead and squeeze the pillowy flesh. He sucked hard, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud as he palmed the other tit roughly.

"Oh god, Lucerys!" You whimpered, your back bowing off the window as pleasure rocked through your body like a tidal wave. Your fingers knotted in his hair, gripping the silky strands tightly as you held him against your heaving chest. "Don't stop, please don't stop..." You begged, your voice high and breathy with need.

Each hard pull of his mouth on your sensitive nipples sent bolts of electricity through your nerves, stoking the heat building between your thighs. You could feel yourself getting close already, teetering on the edge of a massive climax from his relentless suckling alone.

"Please, Lucerys, I'm so close already," you panted, looking down at him with glossy eyes. You moaned shamelessly, too lost in pleasure to feel any shame.

Lucerys smirked at your needy state, and he's barely even touched you. "I haven't even touched you, and you're already ready to come undone."

Lucerys moaned against your tit, the vibrations sending delicious shivers through you. "Such a needy little thing," he murmured, his hot breath fanning over your damp flesh.

Lucerys lapped at the hardened bud once more before releasing it, admiring how it glistened with his saliva, blowing cool air over the damp peak.

You tangled your fingers in his dark hair, tugging him up as you crashed your lips against his in a frenzied kiss. You poured all of your pent-up desire into the heated embrace, your tongue colliding with his as you ground your hips against his straining erection.

Your hands roamed greedily over his muscular chest and back, mapping out the hard planes and ridges you'd dreamed about touching for so long.

Breaking the kiss with a gasp, you gazed up at Lucerys with hazy eyes, your chest heaving and flushed. "I don't care if you're teasing me," you panted, a wicked grin on your lips. "I just need you..."

Lucerys's eyes darkened with primal hunger as he drank in the sight of your flushed skin. He could see the desperate need in your body, hear it in the way your voice trembled and broke as you spoke. It inflamed him, making his cock throb and leak in his jeans.

In a flash of movement, Lucerys swept you into his arms, carrying you towards the bed. He tossed you down onto the bed, drinking in the sight of your dishevelled figure against the tangled sheets.

Your heart raced as Lucerys tossed you onto the bed, a gasp escaping your lips at the sudden movement. You could feel the heat of his gaze on your skin, the way he drank in every curve and contour of your body like a man starved.

"I want to watch you touch yourself," Lucerys demanded, his voice a low, commanding rumble. "Show me how you make yourself feel good."

"Don't be shy now," Lucerys purred, his voice a low, seductive growl. "You had no problem doing it earlier," he teased with a wicked grin.

He reached down and palmed himself through his jeans, groaning at the feeling of his own hard, aching flesh.

Blushing under his intense scrutiny, you slowly unbuttoned your jean shorts, sliding them down your legs along with your soaked red thong. A testament to the desire that had been building inside you for so long. You could feel Lucerys's eyes on you, watching your every move with rapt attention.

Meeting his gaze head-on, you brought your fingers to your mouth, sucking on the digits and coating them in your saliva. Keeping your eyes locked with his, you trailed them down your body, skimming over the swell of your breasts, and the dip of your waist, before coming to rest at the apex of your thighs.

You could see the hunger in Lucerys's eyes darken as you began to touch yourself, your fingers circling your sensitive clit in slow, teasing circles. You couldn't hold back the moan that slipped past your lips, your hips bucking slightly as pleasure sparked through your core.

"I wasn't thinking about Addam," you panted, your voice high and breathy with need. "I was thinking about you. I'vewanted this for so long, wanted you for so fucking long."

You plunged two fingers knuckle-deep into your dripping cunt, crying out at the sudden intrusion. The wet, obscene sounds of your fingers pumping in and out of your soaked pussy filled the room, mingling with your wanton moans and whimpers.

Lucerys's pupils were blown wide with lust as he watched your fingers disappear into your glistening folds. The obscene sound of your fingers pumping in and out of your sopping cunt filled the room, making his cock throb and leak in his jeans.

He could hardly believe his eyes as you pleasured yourself, it was the most erotic sight he had ever seen.

Unable to resist, Lucerys quickly shed his own clothes, nearly ripping them in his haste to be naked with you. His cock slapped against his stomach, long and thick and leaking heavily, and the swollen head flushed an angry purple. He wrapped a hand around the throbbing shaft, squeezing hard as he watched you debauch yourself for his viewing pleasure. A bead of pre-cum formed at the tip, slowly dripping down the impressive length.

Your breath caught in your throat as Lucerys's massive cock sprang free, the sight of his thick, pulsing shaft making you moan. You could feel your pussy clenching and dripping, aching to be filled by him.

"I need to taste you," Lucerys panted, his voice strained with desperation. "Need to eat your pretty pussy."

"Please, Lucerys," I whimpered breathlessly, spreading your legs even wider in wanton invitation. You used your fingers to hold your swollen, glistening folds open, revealing the soaked flesh. "I need your mouth on me."

Lucerys's eyes flashed with hunger as he crawled onto the bed, settling between your spread thighs. The scent of your arousal filled his nostrils, making his mouth water and his cock throb with need.

He leaned in close, his hot breath fanning over your dripping slit. "Fuck, you smell divine," he growled, his voice a low rumble in his chest. Unable to resist any longer, Lucerys dove in face first, his tongue delving deep into your soaked cunt. He licked a long, slow stripe up your slit, moaning at the taste of your arousal.

He started with a long, slow lick up the centre of your slit, savouring your exquisite flavour. He could feel your body tremble beneath him, your juices flowing freely onto his tongue. He whined in appreciation, the vibrations rumbling through your core.

Lucerys focused his attention on your sensitive clit, flicking and circling the tender bud with the tip of his tongue. He sucked it between his lips, his cheeks hollowing as he drew hard on the sensitive flesh.

Needy whimpers and pitiful mewls spilt from your lips, your body writhing with pleasure as he devoured your needy cunt.

Gripping your thighs, he spread you even wider and buried his face in your pussy, sucking and licking and feasting on your soaked flesh like a man starved. His tongue delved deep, fucking into your tight channel and lapping up every drop of your essence. He could feel you clenching around the invading muscle, greedily trying to suck him deeper.

"Fuck!" You squealed, your voice pitching higher with each flick of his tongue over your swollen clit.

He could feel your clit throbbing against his tongue, puffy and sensitive from his relentless assault. He focused his attention there, flicking and circling the tender bud with the tip of his tongue before sucking it hard into his mouth. His cheeks hollowed as he drew on the sensitive flesh, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body.

Lucerys's hands gripped your ass, squeezing the firm globes roughly as he feasted on your dripping pussy. He spread your legs even wider, opening you completely to his hungry mouth.

"Oh god, yes! Just like that," you whimpered breathlessly, your eyelids fluttering in bliss. "It feels so fucking good, Lucerys!" You mewled, your head tipping back against the pillow as he ate you out with wild abandon. You could feel your pussy dripping and clenching, your juices flowing freely into his hungry mouth. He was unravelling you, breaking you with his tongue, and you never wanted it to end. Your skin burned as Lucerys feasted on your dripping sex like a man starved.

You let out a sharp cry of ecstasy, your fingers tangling urgently in Lucerys's hair, gripping the strands tightly as you held his mouth right against your aching, dripping sex.

Lucerys groaned in approval as he felt your fingers grip his hair, holding him tightly against your dripping sex. He loved how desperate you were for his mouth, for his touch. It spurred him on, making him double his efforts to bring you to the pinnacle of euphoria.

He could feel his own cock throbbing and leaking against the sheets, aching to be buried deep inside your soaked, clenching cunt. The erotic sounds of your pleasure spurred him on, his own hips rocking against the bed as he rutted against the sheets.

"I'm so close," you whimpered breathlessly, body starting to convulse uncontrollably beneath Lucerys. Your thighs quivered and shook as if experiencing a tongue-lashing for the very first time.

Lucerys could feel your body beginning to tremble and convulse beneath him as your climax approached. He could taste your arousal increasing, your juices flowing freely onto his tongue and chin. He lapped at your dripping slit, not wanting to waste a single drop of your essence.

"Don't stop, Lucerys!" you mewled desperately, fisting your hands in his dark locks and grinding your dripping sex against his face. "I'm... I'm going to..." you panted, unable to finish the sentence as the first waves of your climax crashed over you.

"Fuck yes, come on my tongue," Lucerys growled, his voice muffled against your dripping flesh. "I want to taste your cum, feel you gush in my mouth."

A guttural moan tore from your throat, your inner walls clamping down rhythmically around nothing. You were drowning in ecstasy, a sensation only Lucerys could invoke.

Lucerys's own hips rocked against the bed, his throbbing cock leaving a trail of sticky pre-cum on the sheets as he rutted desperately against them. The taste of your arousal, the sounds of your pleasure, the feeling of your body writhing beneath his touch - it was almost too much for him to bear. Your release was intoxicating, and he lapped at your cunt greedily, not wanting to waste a single drop of your essence.

Gasping whimpers escaped your lips, and your chest heaved as you tried to come down from the mind-blowing climax that had just ripped through you. Your pussy clenched around nothing, still greedy and aching to be stretched and filled by Lucerys.

Waves of remaining pleasure shuddered through your body, leaving you trembling and weak in the aftermath. You gazed down at Lucerys through hooded eyes, seeing the smug grin on his face as he licked your release from his lips. You wanted to be annoyed by his arrogance, but you were too lost in bliss to muster up any genuine irritation.

Lucerys looked up at you with a smug grin, his chin glistening with your juices. He licked his lips slowly, savouring the taste of your climax. "You taste heavenly, princess," he purred, his voice a low, satisfied rumble.

Still nestled between your trembling thighs, Lucerys pressed soft kisses along your inner thighs, helping your body come down from the intense high. He could see the way your pussy fluttered, still greedy for more. It made his cock throb with the need to be buried deep inside your tight heat.

"I could do that all day," he murmured, his voice a low rumble in his chest. "Eat this pretty pussy until you're dripping and begging for my cock." Lucerys pressed a final, lingering kiss to your sensitive sex before crawling up your body, trailing his fingers over your heaving breasts and down your sides.

You gazed up at Luke through hooded eyes, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. "Luke," you mewled needily, your voice still shaky from your intense climax. "Gimme your cock," you mumbled, wrapping your small hand around his thick, throbbing shaft. You stroked him slowly, marvelling at how your fingers barely closed around his impressive girth.

Lucerys shuddered, a needy whimper escaping his lips as your small hand wrapped around his throbbing shaft. He could hardly believe this was finally happening, that he was finally feeling your touch on his aching cock. It was almost too much.

"F-fuck, your hand feels so good," Luke groaned, shuddering as your fingers wrapped around his aching shaft. His hips jerked forward instinctively, seeking more of your touch. "I've dreamed about this for so long, about you touching me like this."

Luke's breath hitched as you slowly stroked his thick length, feeling each throbbing vein and ridge beneath your palm. Pre-cum leaked from the swollen tip, dripping down to coat your fingers and aid in their glide along his shaft.

"I need to be inside you, princess," Luke panted, his voice strained with desperation. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of your hips, gripping you tightly as he fought the urge to rut against your hand like a beast in heat.

"Mhm," you nodded eagerly, agreeing with him. You needed to feel him inside you. Now. "Lucerys," you breathed out, gazing at him with hooded, desire-filled eyes. "I want you to take me however you please. Use me..." you trailed off, your voice hitching with anticipation.

Your nails raked lightly down his chest, leaving faint red lines in their wake as you tugged him closer, desperate to feel his heavy weight pressing down on you. You arched your back, pushing your breasts up and out, silently presenting them to him as you spread your legs wider in invitation.

"Lucerys..." you whimpered needily, your hair fanning out around you against the pillow as you stared up at him with pure, unadulterated lust. "Fuck me. Fuck me hard and don't stop until I'm begging you to stop."

"Oh, and I'm on the pill, so..." you smirked, biting your lip. "You can fill me up if you want."

A shudder rippled through Lucerys at your obscene words, his cock jerking in your grip, a spurt of pre-cum dribbling from the tip at the thought of filling you with his seed. "Fuck, yes," he growled, his voice a low, roughened rasp. "I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk; until the only thing you remember is the feeling of my cock splitting you open."

He could hardly believe his ears, scarcely able to process that this goddess was offering herself to him entirely. Lucerys pushed your thighs apart roughly, settling between them. He rubbed the swollen head of his cock through your dripping folds, coating himself in your arousal. Then with one swift, hard thrust, he buried himself balls-deep inside your tight, wet heat.

A guttural moan tore from Lucerys's throat at the feeling of your walls gripping him like a vice. "Fuck, you're so fucking tight," he panted, fighting the urge to come instantly. He paused for just a moment, letting you adjust to his size before he began to move.

"Ah!" You screamed in pleasure as Lucerys entered you in a quick movement, your body arching off the bed at the sudden penetration. "Move, now!" You whined in a high-pitched, needy tone, your hips bucking up eagerly to urge him to start thrusting inside you. You could feel every thick inch of his hard cock stretching you open, filling you. The sensation was incredible, better than anything you had ever felt before.

Lucerys moved your knees apart, pushing them into your chest. Holding you in a rough mating press. He began to move, pulling out until just the tip remained inside you, before slamming back in with a grunt, burying himself to the hilt. He set a hard, fast pace, the bed creaking beneath you with each powerful thrust.

"Take it, princess," he growled, voice strained with lust as he fucked into you relentlessly. "Take my cock like the greedy little thing you are." His pubic bone slammed against your clit with each thrust, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you.

You could only mewl and wail in ecstasy as Lucerys was abusing your sopping cunny. Each forceful thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body, leaving you a quivering, writhing mess beneath him.

"L-Lucerys!" You cried out, your voice cracking as he thrust into you wildly. "L-love your c-cock, I love it s-oo much!" You babbled incoherently, your voice broken by his hips snapping into you and your cries of ecstasy.

"I know you do, princess," Lucerys panted harshly, his face contorted in pleasure above you. "I can feel how much you love it. Your hungry little cunt is sucking me in." Your cries of pleasure spurred him on, making him fuck into you even harder, even faster.

You wouldn't be surprised if the boat rocked by now, the force of Lucerys's thrusts shaking the very foundation of the vessel. It was as if he was a man possessed, driven mad with lust and the primal need.

Abruptly Lucerys stopped his motions and flipped you onto your stomach with a grunt, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he loomed over your prone form. "On your hands and knees, princess," he commanded, his voice low. "I want to you from behind."

You arched your back, pushing your hips up and presenting yourself to Lucerys, your dripping sex and puckered hole fully on display. You gazed back at him over your shoulder with hooded, lust-drunk eyes and a coquettish smirk playing at your swollen lips.

"Mmm, how long have you thought about this?" You purred teasingly, your voice a breathy murmur. "I've touched myself thinking of you, imagining you're bending me over the nearest surface." You rocked your hips back against him invitingly, your round ass jiggling slightly with the motion.

His touch had set something ablaze in you. Never in a million years could you have pictured yourself acting like this, saying such depraved things.

"Don't tell me a strapping young man like you hasn't thought about bending me over." You reached back to spread your cheeks, putting your most intimate places on obscene display for him. "Here's your chance, Lucerys..."

Lucerys groaned, a desperate, whiny sound escaping his throat at the erotic sight of you presenting yourself to him. "Oh, you have no idea," Lucerys panted, his voice strained.

"Fuck, you have no idea how many nights I've lain awake, stroking my cock and imagining this moment," Lucerys panted, his voice strained with need. His hands gripped your hips tightly, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your ass. "Every time I've jacked off, it was your tight little holes I was imagining."

Lucerys leaned down, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the globes of your ass. He nipped and sucked at the tender flesh, leaving little marks of possession. His fingers slid between your cheeks, teasing along the cleft before brushing over your puckered rear entrance.

You gasped sharply as Lucerys' fingers brushed over your most private place, a jolt of foreign but not unwelcome sensation shooting through you. Your eyes flew open as you looked back at him over your shoulder. "L-Lucerys!" You breathed out, a pretty flush spreading across your cheeks.

Lucerys froze, eyes widening in surprise at your sharp gasp. "I'm sorry, did I hurt you?" he asked, concern evident on his handsome face. His thumb rubbed soothing circles over your lower back. "I didn't mean to be too rough..."

"No," you breathed, assuring him that you were fine. "It's just that... no one has touched me there," you quietly added, heart swelling at his concern for you.

Lucerys gazed at you tenderly, his thumb still rubbing soothing circles on your lower back. He leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your shoulder, his lips lingering on your skin. "Shhh, it's okay, princess," he murmured softly. "I've got you. I'll be gentle, I promise."

His fingers slid from your rear, trailing teasingly up your side. He cupped your breast, kneading the soft mound and rolling your hardened nipple between his fingers. "You're so beautiful like this," he whispered against your ear. "Spread out for me, offering yourself so sweetly..."

You sigh softly as Lucerys's gentle touches and sweet words ignite sparks of pleasure across your sensitive skin. Your fingers intertwine, his calloused hand enveloping your softer one. "I, um, I liked it when you touched me there," you confess shyly.

"Maybe you can just... touch it, while you fuck me?" You breathe out, hardly believing the obscene words spilling from your lips. What is this man doing to you? In his presence, you've become a creature of pure, uncontrolled lust, no longer recognizing yourself.

Lucerys's eyes darkened with lust at your shy confession, a wicked grin spreading across his handsome face. "Mmm, I thought you might like that, princess," he purred, voice a low rumble in his chest. "You're going to love the way it feels when I touch you there while fucking your tight little cunt."

His fingers drifted back down your body, teasing along the curve of your hip before trailing over the cleft of your ass. He brushed his fingertips over your puckered hole, applying the slightest pressure, before sliding lower to your dripping slit. Lucerys groaned as he felt how wet you were, ready for his cock.

Unable to resist any longer, Lucerys gripped your hips and thrust forward, burying himself deep inside your tight, wet heat with a throaty moan. He began to move, pulling out slowly before slamming back in, setting a hard, deep rhythm. At the same time, his fingers crept between your cheeks again, rubbing and circling your puckered rear entrance.

You gasped sharply, shuddering as you felt Lucerys's thick cock stretching you open, feeling him even deeper in this position. Your back arched involuntarily, pushing your hips back to meet his thrusts. "Ohhh god, Lucerys!" You whimpered, feeling him tease your untouched hole.

Your knees trembled, threatening to give out from the intensity of the sensation.

Lucerys groaned as he felt your body tremble beneath his touch, your tight walls clenching around his throbbing cock. "That's it, princess," he panted, voice strained with lust.

He pressed a spit-slick finger against your puckered hole, rubbing in slow, firm circles, the pad of his thumb pressing against it in time with his slow, powerful thrusts. The sensation was incredible, unlike anything you had ever felt before. Your body shuddered and trembled beneath him, overwhelmed by the dual stimulation.

"Luke!" You cried out, your voice breaking into a desperate moan. Every inch of you trembled, your core clenching and fluttering wildly around his thick cock as it stretched you open. It was almost too much, too intense, but you never wanted it to end. You pushed your hips back to meet his deep, purposeful strokes, silently begging him for more.

Your world narrowed down to the drag of his shaft against your inner walls and the maddening pressure of his thumb circling your untouched hole.

Lucerys could feel your body shaking, your velvet walls gripping his cock like a vice as he pounded into you relentlessly. "Fuck, you're squeezing me so tightly," he grunted, sweat dripping down his chest from exertion. "You're trembling, princess. Does it feel good when I touch you here?"

He pressed the tip of his finger against your puckered hole more firmly as he felt your body quivering with need. His other hand slid around your hip, finding your swollen clit and rubbing it in tight, quick circles.

You let out a pathetic mewl, your voice breaking with pleasure as he touched your aching clit. "Mhm, it's...ahh...feels so good," you slurred mindlessly, drool dripping from your kiss-swollen lips onto the rumpled sheets.

Lucerys groaned at your mindless words and the erotic sight of you drooling in ecstasy below him. "I know, princess, you're taking it so well," he praised breathlessly.

A loud, broken sob tore from your throat as you felt the intense pressure building to a fevered pitch inside you. "I'm g-gonna... Oh fuck!" You screamed, your vision flashing white as your orgasm ripped through you like a tidal wave. Your walls clenched and spasmed wildly around Lucerys's throbbing cock, creaming all over his length. You could feel some of the slick, hot fluid dripping down your thighs as you trembled.

Lucerys let out a loud, whiny groan as your velvet walls clamped down on his throbbing cock like a vice. "Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck!" he cried out, voice breaking as his orgasm overtook him. His hips stuttered and jerked erratically as he pumped wave after wave of his hot, thick seed deep inside your womb.

"Yes, princess, take it," Lucerys growled, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips as he ground against you, making sure every last drop of his release was seated inside your hungry hole. His eyes rolled back in bliss, a fucked-stupid grin spreading across his face as he filled you up, just like he'd always dreamed of doing.

You collapsed face-down onto the bed, your body going limp as Lucerys's hot seed filled you up, painting your insides white. "Mmm, thank you," you muttered mindlessly, still drunk on cock and pleasure, your mind completely scrambled.

You could feel his release leaking out of you, dripping down your thighs as you lay there, utterly spent and satisfied. "You came so much, Lucerys. I've never felt so full before."

Lucerys collapsed on top of you, his sweat-slicked body blanketing yours as he struggled to catch his breath. "Fuck, princess," he panted against your neck, his hips still twitching slightly as the last spurts of his release dripped into your well-fucked cunt. "I've never come so hard in my life." He pressed soft, lazy kisses along your shoulder blades, basking in the afterglow of their intense coupling.

Lucerys's softening cock slipped out of your dripping hole with an obscene plop, your combined releases leaking out and pooling beneath you on the sheets. He rolled onto his side, pulling your limp, pliant body against his own as he wrapped his arms around you in a possessive embrace.

Lucerys cradled your trembling body against his muscular chest, one large hand possessively cupping the curve of your ass. His fingers absently played with your damp curls as he peppered your neck and shoulder with tender kisses, basking in the intimate afterglow.

"It's okay, princess," Lucerys murmured soothingly, feeling your body slowly relax against his. "You did so well, took every inch of my cock like you were made for it. I've never felt anything like that before, never came so hard in my life."

He pressed a particularly tender kiss to the delicate skin beneath your ear. "I could feel how much you loved it, loved feeling my cock stretching this tight little cunt, filling you up so deep." Lucerys's hand drifted up to cup the soft swell of your breast, thumb teasing over the hardened peak of your nipple.

You smiled tiredly, your heart fluttering at his tender words of praise. "Thank you, babe," you murmured, the endearment slipping so naturally from your lips.

Your hand covered his on the soft swell of your breast, giving it a gentle squeeze as you snuggled back against his muscular chest. "Loved how you fucked me," you mumbled, your voice hoarse from the hours of moaning and screaming his name.

Lucerys smiled softly at your murmured praise, his chest rumbling with a contented hum as he held you close. "I loved fucking you too, princess," he murmured, voice a low, intimate rasp.

Lucerys pressed a tender kiss to your temple, his fingertips tracing the elegant curve of your spine as you lay draped across his muscular chest. He could feel the steady drum of his heart beneath your cheek, the gentle rise and fall of his lungs as he slowly came down from his high.

"You're beautiful," Lucerys murmured, voice a low, awed whisper as he gazed down at you with a soft, sated smile.

He brushed a few tousled waves of hair from your face, tucking them gently behind your ear. The intimate gesture made his heart flutter in his chest, a warmth spreading through him that had nothing to do with the afterglow of their intense lovemaking.

Lucerys knew, in that perfect, tranquil moment, that he had fallen for you. Hard.

You turned in Lucerys's arms to face him, your heart pounding nervously in your chest as you gazed up at him through your lashes. You didn't want to shatter the intimate, peaceful atmosphere we had created, but you needed to know where you stood.

"Lucerys," you began softly, your voice barely above a whisper, "what happens now?" you bit your lip as you searched his handsome face for any hint of his true feelings.

A part of you feared that you were just another challenge he had set out to win. Now that he had finally had you, would his interest fade? Would he grow bored and move on to the next pretty face that caught his eye?

The thought made your stomach twist uncomfortably, but you pushed it aside. You had to know the truth, had to understand what the future held for you beyond these six days trapped together on this boat.

Lucerys's heart skipped a beat as he gazed down at your lovely face, seeing the hope and anxiety swirling in your eyes. He wanted more. He needed more.

Cupping your face gently in his large hand, Lucerys brushed his thumb tenderly over the delicate curve of your cheek."Princess," he murmured, his voice soft and earnest.

His gaze bored into yours, his eyes filled with a sincerity that made your breath catch in your throat. "This won't end when we reach shore. I want to see you again, want to take you out on dates, spoil you rotten... You are out of your mind if you think I'm letting you go." Lucerys mumbled against your skin in a possessive tone.

You gazed up at Lucerys, a coy smile playing on your lips. "Well, who am I to deny you such a privilege?" You murmured teasingly, your voice a sultry purr.

Your fingers traced soft patterns on his chest, enjoying the muscle beneath your fingertips. You nuzzled into his touch, savouring the warmth of his palm against your cheek.

"I have to admit, the idea of being spoiled rotten by you is rather...appealing."

Leaning in closer, you pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the hinge of his jaw, breathing in the masculine scent of him.

Lucerys shuddered as your soft lips brushed against his jaw. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your naked body flush against his own as he rolled you onto your back.

"I'm glad you find the idea of being spoiled by me appealing," Lucerys murmured, his voice a low, seductive rumble. "Because I have many plans for you, princess." His large hands slid down to grip your hips, fingers sinking into the soft flesh as he held you in place.

He leaned down, his lips an inch away from your own. "But first things first," Lucerys whispered, his breath mingling with yours. "I'm going to kiss you until you're breathless."

"Hold that thought," you giggle, reaching for your phone to send a quick text to Baela.

"Your cousin fucks like an animal... and has the biggest dick I've ever seen :p"

You press send and smile like an idiot at your own text. Quickly, you the the phone away again and got back to Lucerys, smiling into his soft kiss.

Baela snorted back a laugh as she read your message, shaking her head in amused disbelief.

"Oh, my days! I'm thrilled you're having such a... stimulating time during your school project"

"Use protection!!!!"

39 notes · View notes

pascaloverx · 4 months ago

Text

BORN TO DIE

Summary: In a tense political setting, a Targaryen bastard working as a prostitute is summoned by Prince Aemond to the Red Keep. Aemond wants her to approach his dragon, Vhagar, as a test of her worth. Although he plans for her to claim another dragon in the future, her immediate challenge is to survive Prince Aemond demands while trying to stay alive.

Author’s Note: This work is set in the world created by George R.R. Martin, as depicted in his book Fire & Blood, and none of the characters belong to me. The story will follow some events from the series House of the Dragon (2022), but with changes to fit the fanfiction narrative. Therefore, it will not adhere strictly to the series' storyline. This fanfiction is a work of fiction and may contain inappropriate language, adult content, and violence. Readers be warned. I hope you enjoy the story and interact with it. I apologize if there are any errors in the High Valyrian sections; I used a translator and am unsure of its accuracy. Thank you and happy reading. I would like to thank my best friend who, besides being a faithful reader of this fanfic, gave me the idea of the little confrontation between the Cannibal and Vermax dragons, thank you @dipyouuinhoney ❤️

Warning: This chapter will contain violence, as well as inappropriate language and adult sexual content. Minors should not read or interact with this chapter or this fanfic.

THREE FIVE

FOUR (+18)

Facing the dragon Cannibal, you heard his powerful roar, a clear attempt to communicate with his new rider—you. His restlessness was evident, perhaps driven by the need to understand why someone had disturbed him or because you were accompanied by a stranger. Or perhaps he sensed your own discomfort. The dark, rugged-scaled beast spread his wings in an imposing display, a signal that he was ready to take flight. His sharp teeth, glistening with a trace of blood between them, were fully exposed. You noticed his impatient paws pressing into the ground, claws sharp and ready. There was no doubt—this dragon would be a formidable asset in the war between King Aegon II's forces and the dragons fighting for Princess Rhaenyra.

"Uēpa taoba, dohaerās. Kostilus, rȳbagon," you command with a firm, dominant tone, attempting to assert control over Cannibal, readying him for what was to come. As you glance back, you notice Prince Aemond gazing at the dragon with unmistakable admiration—perhaps even something more. You could swear that he seems slightly aroused by the sight of you and Cannibal bonding. However, not wanting to acknowledge this observation, you quickly avert your gaze the moment he catches you watching him. The dragon lowers his snout toward you, as if trying to catch your scent. The blood of Aemond, still fresh on your skin, must be lingering in the air, drawing Cannibal closer.

"Sȳz gundjabo, sȳz zaldrīzes," Prince Aemond murmurs as he passes by you, moving closer to Cannibal. The dragon seems aware of the fact that both of you will soon take flight with him. Aemond, of course, never misses the chance to remind you of your station—what you are to him. Yet, in this moment, you’re far too anxious to care about his words. The looming flight, the dragon's immense power, and the weight of what lies ahead consume your thoughts, leaving little room for anything else.

"Sȳz kipagīros, sȳz zaldrīzes; ñuha dārilaros. SōVegon, Cannibal," you gently correct Prince Aemond as both of you situate yourselves atop the dragon. After all, to your dragon, you are the rider, the one who will guide him down paths even you cannot yet foresee. In an attempt to appease Aemond, you address him formally in High Valyrian, acknowledging his status. As you position yourself on Cannibal, the sensation of his rough scales beneath you feels strange, unsettling even. Yet, without hesitation, you give the command for him to take flight. The air is filled with tension as the dragon obeys, lifting off the ground with powerful, sweeping wings.

"Be prepared for battle commands. If I know my strong nephew, blessed with the temperament of his late father, he will attempt to hinder our path. Do not allow Cannibal to kill him. That privilege does not belong to you," Prince Aemond commands, as though you are merely his dragon to control. He must be longing for Vhagar. However, you have no desire to harm any of Rhaenyra’s children. Making such a mistake would be far too reckless, and you are fully aware of it.

Prince Aemond's hands grip you tightly as you turn to look at him in order to respond. It is then that you notice a dragon approaching swiftly from the distance. With green scales and a more agile frame, it is small in comparison to Vhagar or even Cannibal. The rider of this dragon is coming with a speed that suggests a fierce desire for combat between their beast and yours.

"Aderī, Cannibal,"you command, and the dragon responds, accelerating towards King's Landing with a newfound agility.

"I do not wish to confront your nephew, Your Highness," you add, showcasing your ability to communicate both with your dragon and the impatient prince behind you. Aemond lets out a low grunt of frustration, likely longing for Vhagar to teach his nephew a lesson. As the son of Rhaenyra closes the distance, Cannibal visibly tenses at the proximity of the other dragon. With a swift maneuver, he performs a roll in the air, seeking to gain control. Aemond's hands grip you firmly, and you feel the heat radiating from your palms as you hold onto Cannibal, the tension mounting in the air.

Cannibal manages to distance himself from the smaller dragon, soaring above the waters where you once bathed alongside Aemond. The memory floods back, momentarily distracting you from the imminent danger. Your focus snaps back as you notice a flame nearly singe Cannibal’s wing. The heat from the attack of Rhaenyra's son sears your left hand.

"Angōs, Cannibal!" you shout through the pain of your scorched skin. At your command, your dragon rises, pursuing the smaller foe with determination. Cannibal requires no further direction; he unleashes a powerful blast of fire towards the smaller dragon, igniting part of the sky in a fierce blaze, as if he intends to incinerate everything in his path.

He clearly does not relish the thought of being commanded like this, least of all to celebrate a moment you know he feels is rightfully his. "Lykirī, Canibal!"you call out with urgency, hoping your dragon heeds your words to ensure the safety of his target. Amidst the roars and growls, Cannibal finally begins to settle, responding to your command as he assesses the outcome of the encounter.

"My strong and cunning nephew, hie thee to Dragonstone and alert your mother of the perils of being a wily fool." Prince Aemond takes the lead, addressing his curly-haired, brown-haired nephew as soon as he lays eyes upon him. The young lad's dragon bears a slight opening in one of its wings, likely from the intensity of the flames, or perchance Cannibal has grazed it lightly with his talon.

"My dear one-eyed uncle, I trust you do not believe this to be over. You and your usurper brother shall lose this war," the brown-haired nephew of Aemond declares in his most threatening tone. His words enrage the prince, and in a fit of fury, Aemond loses his composure, shouting, "Drakarys!" in a desperate command to Cannibal. Yet, the dragon does not obey. Instead, Cannibal stretches his claws toward the smaller dragon as if to intimidate, releasing a thunderous roar that shakes the very air around them.

"Choose your next move wisely, prince. You wouldn’t want your mother to bury another son," you warn Rhaenyra's son, your voice steady despite the tension thickening in the air. Though Aemond’s command failed, there is little you can do to rein in both the prince and your dragon. Cannibal, still looming and poised to strike, waits for no one’s control, and Aemond’s rage is far from spent. The weight of the moment presses on you, knowing that any misstep could unleash disaster. Your words seem to have an effect on Aemond’s nephew, who slowly retreats. You watch as he commands his dragon to return to Dragonstone, while Canibal resumes his course toward King’s Landing.

“You should have commanded Cannibal to strike him again,” Prince Aemond mutters close to your ear, frustration seeping into his voice.

“Your Highness, the death of your other nephew is not mine. It was by your own commands,” you reply, catching him off guard with the weight of your words. For the remainder of the journey, neither of you says another word. The silence between you is heavy, filled with unspoken tension and the cold reality of what lies ahead.

Your dragon lets out a powerful roar as you approach King’s Landing, as if announcing his arrival. Cannibal swiftly glides toward the Dragonpit, and you can feel Prince Aemond's fingers brushing along your waist, almost as if exploring it. Cannibal lands amidst the growls of other dragons, releasing a burst of fire into the air as he adjusts himself on the ground. The Dragonkeepers gather around, making both you and your dragon uneasy. You wonder if Cannibal might attack them—if he cannot be fully tamed, his value to King Aegon II could be compromised.

You know that maintaining eye contact with Cannibal is crucial to calming him down. Between one growl and another, your dragon settles on the ground, lowering himself slightly. Prince Aemond dismounts with ease, accustomed to the task, while you, on the other hand, struggle on your third attempt to climb down. You start considering whether staying atop your dragon forever might be preferable. Impatience seeps into you as it does into your dragon. Just as you're about to give up, Prince Aemond’s attention shifts back to you after exchanging words with the Dragonkeepers. Like before with the horse, he extends his arms toward you, offering assistance.

"Gundjabo, you must learn how to dismount your dragon," Prince Aemond whispers near your ear, his breath sending a shiver down your spine. The way he helped you down from Cannibal still lingers in your thoughts, the proximity between you far too intimate. You try to respond, but no words seem to form, your voice betraying you. The truth, undeniable as it is, swells within you—you are undeniably drawn to Aemond Targaryen, with a hunger that you can no longer ignore.

"The King summons you both, Your Highness. He insists you be prepared for the banquet he is hosting in honor of his newest dragon's conquest. He desires the presence of both his brother and the dragon's rider as soon as possible," one of the King's servants announces as she approaches. Aemond stiffens, his expression darkening in clear displeasure, and he releases a low growl, a hint of frustration in his gaze. He clearly does not relish the thought of being commanded like this, least of all to celebrate a moment you know he feels is rightfully his.

"Inform the King that we shall join him shortly to celebrate this victory. I trust my bath is prepared, and the gundjabo will ready herself in my company. Ensure she is provided with new attire." Prince Aemond's command is sharp and unyielding, and the servant quickly scurries off to carry out his orders. You feel a rush of shock at the thought of undressing in the presence of Prince Aemond, but your mind immediately shifts to a more pressing concern—calming your dragon. As Aemond exchanges words with a few of the keepers, you make your way to Cannibal. His dark, formidable presence looms as you approach, but you reach out, your hand finding his rough scales. You whisper a brief farewell, a silent promise to return, feeling the bond between you and the mighty beast grow with each touch.

In silence, you follow Prince Aemond to his chambers, trying to discern why he insists on you preparing yourself in his presence. Two possibilities run through your mind: perhaps he seeks to assert his dominance over you, a display of power to ward off any designs his brother might have upon you; or perhaps, this is some form of punishment for the wound you inflicted earlier. His blood still stains your skin, and no doubt the pain from where you cut him lingers. The thought settles heavily—whatever his motive, you are likely in for a reckoning.

"Disrobe yourself; we shall bathe together. Afterward, you will be formally introduced to King Aegon II Targaryen . Know that every action you take in His Grace’s presence will be under my scrutiny, and any misstep will bring consequences upon you," Prince Aemond commands, his voice laced with authority as he begins to undress before you. His words send a shiver down your spine, the implications of his warning settling heavily on your mind. The thought of what consequences might await you under his watchful eye is enough to stir anxiety. It’s no surprise that Aemond seeks to instill fear—he thrives on your desperation, needing to ensure your obedience through intimidation.

"I do not think it proper for me to be bare in your presence, Your Highness. Surely, I can afford you the necessary privacy and prepare myself elsewhere. If you would excuse me..." you attempt, feigning modesty as an excuse to escape the looming consequences of your earlier actions. But before you can slip away, Aemond’s hand grasps your arm with a firm resolve, pressing you against the door of his chambers. His fingers trail up toward your neck, lingering there as if assessing every inch of your skin, studying you like prey caught in his grasp. His one good eye follows the curve of your form, tracing from head to toe in a slow, deliberate gaze. Your breath catches, growing shallow as uncertainty floods your mind. You stand frozen, unsure of what awaits next under his unrelenting scrutiny, as the tension between you grows palpable, threatening to snap at any moment.

"Gundjabo, gundjabo... cease these futile attempts to flee from me. Believe me, within these grand walls, I am the closest thing to safety you shall find. And I think propriety is no longer a concern between us. Now, be a good girl and obey me, before my patience wears thin." Aemond's voice drips with menace as he grips your face, turning it aside so his lips hover near your ear, his words slow and deliberate. His hold is firm, unyielding, and the weight of his command sends a shiver down your spine. Your breath falters, betraying the rising doubt in your ability to navigate this situation. Survival seems like a distant notion, slipping further from reach with each moment spent under his watchful eye. You can feel his control tightening like a noose around your freedom, leaving you cornered. With trembling resolve, you grip his hand, pulling it away from your face without a word. His gaze never wavers, a predatory intensity burning within, watching your every move. Though his words still echo in your mind, you begin to comply with his original order, slowly giving in to the dangerous dance that lies ahead.

You slowly remove your clothing, hoping that Prince Aemond won't torture you for hurting him. He lets out a moan that sounds more like a "hmm" as you finish getting off. When you finish taking off your clothes, he motions with his head for you to take off his clothes too. He had already taken off some of his clothes so in a few moments, he was naked. His dick was slightly hard was on display, which caught your attention. He walked over to enter his bath but not before carrying you into the bath with him. His arms wrapping around you, forcing you into the water with him, surprises you. Until then you didn't think Aemond had that much strength. But now that you're taking a bath together, you are trying to force yourself to think about how to calm him down. You approach him, helping him clean himself; all the while touching every part of Prince Aemond's body.

"Your Highness seems tense, perhaps there is something I can do to help you release all that tension..." You say as you run your hands over Aemond's chest, your fingers moving delicately down groping the hitherto unexplored body of your beloved Prince Aemond. When your fingers reach Aemond's cock, you see the Prince close his eye. He is receptive to your touch as you run your hand over his cock, stimulating it. Your hand moving back and forth slowly as you listens to the muffled moans of Prince Aemond who has his head turned back. Your movements become faster as you feel him becoming more and more surrendered in your hands. You approach Prince Aemond's neck, kissing the spot you cut. The Prince lets out a moan as you kiss his neck again now rising with the kisses, while continuing to make movements on his cock. You kiss Aemond's chin, then his mouth. You try to have some dominance in the kiss because his eye is still closed but as soon as your tongue meets his, he seems to light up. He sucks on your tongue as if tasting a delicious fruit, while pressing you against the bathtub. He then cums in your hand, while letting out a grunt as if he enjoyed it. His gaze upon you is a mixture of pleasure with something else, like pure evil. He gives you a mischievous smile just before pressing you underwater. His hands are pushing you to stay underwater while you try to use your strength to not drown. You're thrashing around, touching every part of Aemond's body to see if he'll let go of you. You start to run out of air, your attempts to survive aren't working so you decide to accept your imminent death. It is then that Aemond pulls you up, as he watches you trying to breathe desperately. As soon as your breath returns to you, you face Prince Aemond. He has a victorious smile on his face, as if he is teaching you a lesson.

"Next time you consider harming me, make sure I do not survive. Otherwise, you shall face a fate far more cruel than merely sharing a bath. But I must say, your skills with your hands, gundjabo, are quite... relaxing." Prince Aemond's voice is chillingly casual, as though the near-murderous tension between you has been nothing more than a passing amusement for him. His gaze lingers on your expression, clearly relishing the fear flickering across your features. For a moment, you stand frozen, words failing you in the face of his menacing calm. The weight of his threat settles in your chest, but you decide it’s best not to challenge him further.

Without uttering a single word, you quickly finish bathing, eager to escape the oppressive atmosphere surrounding him. As soon as you step out of the bath, your hands tremble slightly while you hurriedly dress in the green gown laid out for you. Wasting no time, you leave Prince Aemond's chambers as swiftly as your legs will carry you, the feeling of his predatory gaze still burning at your back as you depart to face the next trial—an audience with his brother, King Aegon II.

TO BE CONTINUED

GLOSSARY

Uēpa - Old

Taoba - Boy

Dohaerās - Serve

Kostilus - Please

Rȳbagon - Obey

Sȳz - Good

Gundjabo - Prostitute

Zaldrīzes - Dragon

Kipagīros - Rider

Ñuha Dārilaros - My Prince

SōVegon - Fly

Aderī - Quickly

Angōs - Attack

Lyriri - Calm down

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xoxo-surfergirl · 1 year ago

Text

A Very Targaryen Holiday - Dark!Aemond x Strong!Niece

Part I

summary: Lucera and Aemond reunite with their families to spend the holidays together. Aemond wasn’t always nice to her when he was younger, but has he changed?

notes: the main pairing in this is aemond x strong niece, but I guess I did write it as aemond x fem!lucerys velaryon. Whichever floats your boat more! aemond is not the nicest in this, but this fic is a mix of fluff and smut (but none of the fluff comes from aemond, lol). Slight dubcon, rough oral sex, and attempts at humor. There are no physical descriptions of Lucera besides her having long hair. There is a second part, which I will be posting soon. I cross post on ao3, with essentially the same username (just without the hypen) xoxosurfergirl! I hope you enjoy!!!! <3

Lucera took a deep inhale, followed by a deep exhale. Indulging in her breath usually helped whenever her nerves began to get the best of her. Her suitcase was cracked open in front of her, waiting for her to stuff it.

A few fancy dresses. A few long sleeves—it could get cold there at night. Several pairs of pants. A tank top just in case. A swim suit for the hot tub. More underwear than she needed.

She ran back to her dresser to grab the last few items required to fulfill her trip, when her door swung open loudly. Baela was able to nearly leap from the door to the bed, causing her comforter and pillows to jump from impact.

Her curls splayed out onto the bed in a halo. “I’ve always loved your bed. It’s the softest out of all of ours, you know.”

Lucera looked at her, unease crawling its way through her stomach and up her throat. “Yeah, well. You can always ask mother for a new one.”

Baela softened her face. “Luce, I know this is weird for you.”

“No, no. It’s fine, really, it’s just been awhile.” Lucera folded her clothes to keep her hands focused.

“It’s not really fine. I know we haven’t talked about it for a long time, but I know how weird it must feel for you.”

Lucera sighed. “It’s just, everything might be completely normal you know? And I’m anxious about nothing.”

Baela sat up on the bed, making deep eye contact with Lucera. “Don’t discount your feelings. It’s been four years since we’ve seen them, and for very good reason. Let me remind you that after you accidentally maimed him, he did try to hurt you. On purpose.” Lucera looked away, but Baela continued. “The only reason why we haven’t celebrated Christmas with them is because there were so many close calls and mother noticed”

She remembered the “close calls”. If only they had known all of the times the calls weren’t so close, but no one was there to see it.

“I know, I just wonder sometimes if it’s all in my head. Nothing really happened,” Lie. “I’m the only one who actually hurt someone.” A deep sense of shame leaked through Lucera’s chest, one that she had been trying for years to tame.

But Baela wouldn’t let her stew. “It was an accident, Luce. It’s okay. I’ll tell you as many times as you need to understand it. But what he was doing was not an accident. Remember the year he locked you in Grandfather’s industrial freezer for half an hour? Any longer than that and you would have died. Remember last time he took an ornament and forced you to crush it with your hand so you’d get glass stuck in your skin? Remember when he tried to slam your arm in the oven but Jace stopped him? Remember that other year he almost drowned you in the hot tub? There are even more than this, Lucera. You are perfectly right to be nervous about seeing him again.”

The walls in her mind were crumbling with Baela’s narration of the past holidays. These were memories Lucera had done her best to stifle, but they always returned louder than ever. She would never tell Baela that she had let him do these things, or that there were several more incidents that no one else knew about, because she had always felt like he deserved some form of retribution for losing his eye at her hand.

Aemond had always taken a keen interest in her. He had always followed her, watched her intently. It wasn’t hard to take notice of it. Everyone had.

But everyone had written it up to be nothing beyond youth fascination. Children stare at each other all the time. There was nothing peculiar about Aemond’s behavior.

It was only after the accident that his attention on her took a slight new meaning. Although hesitant at first to resume the previous non-concern from the rest of her family, time had worn away the worry it had initially caused. It had allowed for much else between them to take place.

“Thank you, Bae. I am nervous, but part of me does think we’ve all changed a bit. I certainly have.” And she had. They are adults now. It would be weird if he was still into torture. Most kids grow out of it.

“Exactly. We were weird teenagers and now we’re actually older. I’m sure we’ve all changed a lot since then.”

------------

The snow crunched under their tires, a fresh coat not yet salted by the city. Lucera recognized the skyscrapers in the distance, and her face softened when she saw the telltale curves of the family company’s building peak around the corner. Although it had been some time since she had visited their family townhouse in the city, she remembered the streets like she had lived there her whole life. Happy Little Treats, the best bakery in the city. Blackie’s, the best diner on the East Side.

Her, Rhaena, Jace, and Baela had decided to drive separately from their parents, who also had Joanie with them, as well as little Aemma and Viserra. It was much easier to take two cars, especially when they knew they would probably want to go out at different times from their parents who had two little ones. Poor Joanie, too young to be with the older girls all the time, but also far too old to be stuck with Aemma and Viserra, was doomed to float between the two groups.

The radio was tuned to holiday music, and the girls delighted in singing along to every song that rang through the speakers.

As they were closing in on their destination, Baela intercepted the music with her normal speaking voice, the first to do so in over an hour. “What do you think they all look like now?”

Rhaena was the first to answer. “I’m not sure about Aegon or Aemond, but Helaena and I see each other at uni. She’s radiant and beautiful, as she always has been.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot you've mentioned seeing her around.” Baela replied.

Rhaena smiled, and shook her head down. “Yeah, she’s the coolest, honestly.”

Baela laughed. “Out of those three? It’s no competition.”

Jacaera’s breath fogged up the window as she spoke. “I’ve seen Aegon and Aemond in passing at uni as well. They seem alright. Aegon is no longer the tall one.”

Lucera perked at this. Aemond? Tall? She shook her head. “I swear I forget we all go to the same school sometimes. There’s just so many people I never see them.”

“Aemond is tall now? Wow. I’ll have to see it to believe it.” Baela jeered.

Jacaera drew a heart in the fogged glass before turning and facing the rest of her sisters. “Yes! It was honestly shocking at first. I barely recognized him, but I saw the eyepatch and knew immediately.”

Oh right. The eye patch. Lucera sighed. Baela moved her hand to sit atop hers in acknowledgement.

A right turn here, a left turn there, and the chateaux-style massive townhouse came into view. The four stories were gaudily embellished by baroque trim, with a massive oak door calling attention to its center. Wreaths were attached to the base of every windowsill, and a candle placed in each window. They watched as Rhaenyra and Daemon pulled Aemma and Viserra out of their carseats, having arrived a few moments before they did. Joanie was looking up at the mass of the townhouse, most likely counting how many windows there were, trying to remember which room was what.

Two men Lucera didn’t recognize dressed in all black greeted her parents, and Daemon smiled and gave him his car keys.

Rhaena twisted the steering wheel to pull up right behind them, and the other man dressed in black immediately jumped to open all of their car doors. Lucera felt like she was moving in slow motion the way the man was everywhere at once, and by the time she had stepped onto the sidewalk, he already had the trunk thrown open and was lifting their suitcases next to her.

“Thank you!” Lucera said enthusiastically, trying to cut through his quickness.

The house—if it could be called such a humble thing, loomed above her. She felt as if she was stepping into all holidays past, where he lingered with the bitter taste of sadism.

The large doors eased open, beckoning them inside. When she peaked in, she saw Daemon’s black trench coat deep in the arms of her grandfather, Rhaenyra to his side, buried in Alicent with a beaming smile of delight. They let go, embracing one another in turn. Viserys could barely contain his excitement at the sight of the little ones, having crouched down to greet them. Lucera noticed the exact moment he caught sight of the rest of her and her sisters, and his joy multiplied ten times over.

“Oh, my girls! My girls.” He said, reaching in to hug each one of them. “I couldn’t be more happy to have all of my family in one place again.”

Greetings were further extended to Alicent. It must have been an exhausting process for Viserys and Alicent, she guessed, since there were so many of them.

Alicent addressed the group. “I was just telling your parents, the rest of them are lost in the house somewhere. I’m sure you’ll see them shortly.”

The girls nodded, and Joanie said something about being excited to see Daeron. The flurry of movement divided as everyone was sent to their rooms to unpack.

Alicent nodded to a staircase on her left. “I put you girls up in the kid’s wing.”

Jacaera laughed, playfulness in her voice. “Only some of us are still kids.”

“Oh don’t be ridiculous,” Alicent waved her hand downwards. “You’ll always be children to me.”

Climbing up three floors was exhausting without the bag, and Lucera could hardly imagine doing it with the extra weight in tow. She looked at the house staff carrying her and her sisters bags, and felt a bit sorry for them.

After reaching her rooms, she was delighted to see that she had a window overlooking the front sidewalk. There were fresh winter roses placed delicately in an opaque white vase on her bedside table, the blue jumping out against the walls of her bedroom.

Her nerves were reaching an all time high. She still hadn’t seen Aemond, yet he was here. But her thoughts were interrupted when Baela swung open her door.

Lucera turned to look at her. “Do you ever knock?”

Baela spun around and leaned exaggeratingly against the door frame before saying, “Not with you, I don’t. All of us girls are going to the hot tub. Put your bathing suit on.”

Lucera smiled, and unzipped her suitcase. “I’ll be ready in five. Wait for me?”

------------

The hot tub was roiling, jets pumping near blistering water against their backs. It was heavenly. Their hair was tied up in variations of buns and pony tails, the ends tickling their necks.

Rhaena had been intently looking at the back of the townhouse. “It’s so crazy to be back here after all these years.”

“It’s hardly changed since then. It feels like I’m stepping into a place frozen in time.” Jacaera marveled.

Helaena chuckled at their insight. “I’m sure it feels that way. I haven’t been to Dragonstone in forever either.”

Jacaera turned to her in revelation. “Gods that’s right! You should come stay with us for the summer. The beach is so warm then.”

“Yeah! Maybe when we all finish up our finals Helaena can just come home with us?” Rhaena said in agreement.

“I’d be happy if you had me,” Helaena replied. “What are all you studying anyways?”

Baela went first. “I’m studying business, with a concentration on finance.”

Lucera seconded her. “Me as well.”

Jacaera tagged at the end of Lucera's agreement. “Also me.”

Helaena laughed. “All you three planning to work for the family business, then?”

“Something like that. Jacaera, Baela, and I will take over after Rhaenyra and Daemon.” Lucera answered. “After Viserys passes, of course. It will be awhile, but there’s a lot to learn anyways.”

“Aemond’s going to do the same. Aegon isn’t interested in being a part of Hightower Associates, and neither am I, but Aemond is preparing to take over after our grandfather. Have you seen him around uni?”

Baela chuckled. “We were just talking about that,” she looked at Jacaera. “Only Jace has, really.”

“Hm. That’s funny considering he’s also in your department.” Helaena remarked.

“Right? I mean the library is huge, but it can’t be that large. I’m there all the time.” Jacaera pondered.

“Knowing him, he probably found a secret room and lives out of it”. Helaena sighed. “He doesn’t go out too much, and he’s really focused on his work.”

Lucera thought about the growing man Aemond had morphed into. One who was deeply integrated and committed to his family business, just as she. It only meant he had gotten more cutthroat. It’s the only way to survive in the world of finance they were thrust into. None of the top hedge fund managers, heads of banking families, or titans of brokers reached and stayed where they were because they were the most virtuous. To survive in this world meant being vicious at times.

A trait that ran in the family, clearly.

“We’ll probably run into him one of these days.” Baela acquiesced. “What are you studying again Helaena?”

“Studio art, concentrating on painting. Aegon is doing the same, but focusing on photography. We both much prefer it to the chaos of the family business.” She said proudly, until she realized the context of the conversation. “Not that I’m putting you down for choosing it, or anything.”

Jacaera giggled. “No, we get it. It is pretty chaotic.”

The hot tub had gone from the initial burn, to comfortable, to boiling again as the conversations ebbed and flowed through several different interests of theirs, such as their love lives and the semester's hook-ups, with extra time spent on the more embarrassing ones. It was truly Baela dominating the bulk of the conversation, hardly anyone else had anything to add apart from a meager makeout here and there.

Baela was also newly introduced to the term “situationship”, as the rest of them deduced she was most certainly in one with Adam Hull.

“Just because we sleep in the same bed most nights doesn’t mean we’re together.” She objected.

Helaena was set on getting her to admit it. “And does he stay in the morning? Do you do any other activities together?”

Baela scoffed. “We get dinner sometimes. And go to the movies every Tuesday, but that’s only because tickets are half-off on Tuesdays. And we go to the gym together. But it’s nothing, really.”

Helaena tried to ease her into it. “You do realize that is essentially a relationship, besides you have no direct commitment or any expectations? Someone is going to get hurt eventually.”

Lucera rolled her eyes. “And it’s probably him. Gods Baela, the man is probably in love with you and you are too daft to see it.”

All eyes on her, Baela was lost in the processing of this new information, until she remembered who and where she was, and quickly found a way to deflect it. “Oh shut up. Says you, you’re like the genuine version of a pick-me girl. Every man who looks at you falls in love with you.”

Lucera rolled her eyes. “You’re exaggerating.”

A smile crept across Baela’s lips, successfully removing the attention away from her situationship. “Um, no I’m not. What of Tyrek Lannister? Gerrick Greyjoy? Dorren Stark? And that’s only from this quarter.” She used her hands to prove her point, counting them on her fingers.

Lucera threw up her arms. “I can’t help it! Honestly! Besides, I don’t lead anyone on, just have maybe a kiss or two.” The rest of the girls sang a chorus of oos, bringing a blush through her cheeks.

“And who was the best out of them?” Jacaera coaxed.

“It hardly matters,” Lucera drawled, “but, it was Gerrick.”

“Hm. I’m surprised it wasn’t Stark.” Rhaena gave a side-long glance at Jacaera. “I’ve heard good things about Stark men.”

Jacaera’s face flushed, praying the heat from the tub would conceal her thoughts. Naturally, everyone noticed, but chose to spare their easily flustered sister.

Helaena looked her in the eyes, and threw her a trusting wink.

------------

As the day wore on, Lucera’s anticipation of seeing Aemond waxed and waned. She thought it would have happened by now—if they were still kids, it surely would have, being at the age where presence around the family was required. She thought of the many places he could be, the things he could be doing, but it was difficult to imagine someone she hadn’t seen in several years. It was nearly impossible to conceive of it, and it only raised her nerves.

Dinner passed along quietly, winter soup and charcuterie being served on a come-and-go basis in the parlor to account for the rush of her family’s arrival and the need for a little bit of flexibility in their schedule. Afterall, there was still much planned for the day: they were going to the ballet, and everyone would be attending.

In front of her vanity, Lucera examined herself in the mirror. She lifted the delicate silver chain to secure it around her neck, the deep crescent moon in its center sitting in the joint of her collarbones. She didn’t try to examine her reasonings for being extra fickle about what she wore, but it was hard to escape his presence in them. It had been so long, and she didn’t want him to think her ugly. He either had changed for the better and would no longer say his cruel thoughts aloud, hadn’t changed and would say that and so much more, or he had gotten worse. A shudder rippled through her as she tried to imagine how that could be possible, but what if it was?

She wanted him to look at her and see how much she had changed, that she was no longer a girl anymore. And perhaps, if he had any lingering thoughts of resentment, that could lend him to realizing that she was no longer deserving of his hostility.

Her nerves from earlier had thawed, and amongst the remains was a newfound confidence. Her mary janes clicked on the sidewalk, her self-assuredness carrying through her legs. She reached into the SUV where her family was waiting for her.

Rhaenyra, holding Aemma on her left leg, reached over and grabbed her hand. “You look radiant, darling.”

Jacaera patted the seat next to her. “Something got your spirits up?”

“Nothing in particular, just had a good day.” And it was true. The day had been knotless. She had been surprised by its ease, and delighted just the same.

Once the tires slowed and the doors slid open, she reached her hand around to grab the frame, the other taking Daemon’s hand to step out of the car. The marquee hung gaudily above them, its essence of performance steeped in its display. She looked around for the Hightowers, who had pulled in ahead of them. She found Alicent’s thick calico fur shawl, trailing to Helaena’s platinum hanging down her back, to…

Her throat seized. Was that really him? His back was set against her, but she could see Aegon’s side profile, meaning the other one must be him.

Jacaera was right, he is tall. She had never pictured him with his hair long. Her sisters poured out of the car to stand alongside her.

Baela was the first to acknowledge it aloud. “Gods, I hardly recognize them.”

The slamming of the car doors must have carried, and he turned around from his mother to face the rest of them.

His hair swung gently, and she caught the moment his eye landed on her. His eyepatch looked menacing, scar tracing just outside of it. While holding her gaze, he upturned his lips into a tight smirk.

Their families approached each other, not too far away to begin with.

Aegon looked delighted to see his cousins, endearing them each. His face had filled out on the edges, and he hadn’t grown an inch. Aemond upheld his apathetic image, looking slightly uninterested, but they knew him better—-he simply always looked that way. Her sisters took turns pulling each of them into hugs with their greetings.

When Aemond reached her, he regarded her for several moments, his dark smile returning. “You’ve changed, Luce.”

She straightened her back, ignoring the way he was openly sliding his eye across her from head to toe. “So have you.”

He surprised her by pulling her deep in his chest, bending his neck down to whisper in her ear. “I haven’t forgotten our little games.” Before she could respond, he released her.

Baela had witnessed the interaction from a few paces away, her eyes still on Aemond, who had gone to greet Rhaenyra. Lucera walked up to her.

She fell into step beside Baela, through the doors, tickets in hand. “What did he say to you?”

Back and forth, she contemplated telling her the truth. Through her childhood, she had never been fully honest through the extent to which he hurt her. Rhaenyra had questioned, Daemon had asked, and her sisters had pushed after her wellbeing once the accidents had been exposed as something more purposeful. Lucera knew her parents were smarter than she, but they also didn’t push the subject when she refused to yield.

She didn’t quite know why, though she supposed it was because she felt she owed Aemond her pain. It was the least she could do for taking his sight. He hadn’t permanently damaged her, afterall. Even though he got close, she reminded herself.

Her mind completed its process, and Lucera would continue her pattern with conflict as she always had. “Just that we all look older now.”

“Hm.” She grabbed Lucera’s arm, looping it in hers, voice quieting. “He looks like a fucking super villian.”

Lucera couldn’t bite back her amusement. “He really does, doesn’t he?”

She didn’t want to think about what else he looked like. Attractive, for one. It felt like a sin to even say it in her mind. Lucera was startled by how menacing he looked, but it suited him. His face was lined in hardness and brutality, his lone purple eye allowing for expression.

His walk bled dominance, something she could do without recognizing. But it was hard to ignore the complex grace in his movements, how every turn of his head and lift of his hand was controlled and measured.

Her eyes kept finding him unwillingly, absorbing the man he had become. Lucera couldn’t help herself, needing to remind herself to keep her gaze anywhere but him. He would notice. Baela would notice. Daemon would notice.

After getting their tickets scanned, she and Baela followed their entourage to their seats. The gilded plasterwork came alive from the walls, creating deep shadows, brightening the jewel tones that sat there. The lattice work was interladened with cherubs holding glowing sconces and foliated candelabras. Figurative and floral murals and abstracts curled and jumped from the ceilings, each framed by golden trim. The proscenium arch jutted out gently from the stage, red curtain dropped to hide the rest of the stage.

Their seats were hoisted on the second floor in the box on stage right. Lucera smiled to herself. She knew whoever had bought their tickets did so knowing that the best view would be from above, so they could see the aerial perspective of the dancer’s intricate formations. If she had to guess, it was probably Alicent.

She had sat in the first row of seats, between Jacaera and Baela, while he sat in the second, off to the side, closer to the stage. The curvature of the seats allowed for her to see him out of the corner of her eye, his side profile unmistakable. As she gauged where he was in relation to her, he caught her eye. He brazenly smirked towards her, and then looked away. She ran her fingers over the front of her dress, needing the movement to keep her grounded. Shortly after, the curtains opened and she breathed relief at the comfort that she would have something else to focus on.

It wasn’t as easy as she had hoped.

As they progressed through the suites, Lucera was trying to tame her gaze, pulling and forcing it to remain ahead on anything but him. There was so much to look at, too—the dancer’s tutus and tights, skin and hair was alight with glitter catching every ray of stage light. The way they moved, their arms pouring up and down, their legs fluttering across the stage. Glissade en arriere to arabesque. The live orchestra in the pit, the sliding of their bows, the dancing of their fingers. She had so much to choose from. And it worked for a time, until she remembered his presence, and she had to pull her gaze forward again.

He caught her once or twice, and returned her wandering eyes with the same haughty smile.

She didn’t know if it should scare her, but it definitely made her feel something. Like she wanted to push the button to reveal a secret. Perhaps it was curiosity; she was a woman now, and can’t possibly be pushed around like she used to. He wouldn’t kill her. Not now at least. It would have had to happen years ago, when he was still a child and could get away with “accidental” murder. At present, he’d go to prison for manslaughter. Right? He has to know that. And he himself is a man grown, who has risen above such ideas. Right?

The curtains were drawn, they stood from their seats, her family quickly ushering everyone to get back to the house as fast as possible.

Once alone in the comforts of her bedroom, she unzipped, unlaced, and undid every button and tie on her clothing, releasing more than just the tension it had held on her skin. The whirlwind of their evening had finally come to an end. She had seen him, and it had been somewhat eventful, but she had expected nothing less.

------------

The next morning after an uneventful breakfast, Viserys had called all of his grandchildren to the kitchens. He ensured they knew their presence was mandatory.

“You kids haven’t seen each other in so long. It’s time you bond again.” It was hard to tell what the room-wide cringe was from: being called kids, or being told they must bond over something of Viserys’ choosing.

Lucera looked around the massive kitchen, and knew immediately what they were going to be doing.

Viserys waved his hand. “I dismissed the staff early today. Instead, you all are going to be making our family’s holiday cookies!”

Joanie squealed in excitement, diverting the attention away from Aemond and Aegon, who both rolled their eyes louder than she’d ever seen it done.

“Why not. I love baking!” Rhaena perked.

Viserys stepped out to be more directly in front of them, looking at each of them intently. “Here’s what’s going to happen. Aegon and Jacaera, you two will do our peanut butter kisses. Aemond and Lucera, I want you two doing our sugar cut-outs. Daeron and Joanie, you two are in charge of snowballs. Rhaena, Helaena, and Baela, you three will do our gingerbread cookies. You’ll need the extra person since they’re a lot of work.” He gestured towards the back wall. “I’ve had the cooks set out all the ingredients, and there should be plenty of room for all of you.”

Lucera didn’t know quite what to do. Her intimidation of him was preventing her from moving her feet. Let alone, she didn’t know if Aemond hated this idea, and she didn’t want to feel his rejection. But then again, very little sounded better than fresh cookies.

Joanie and Daeron had practically run across the kitchen, as if it was a race to see who could finish the fastest. Lucera smiled at her youthful enthusiasm.

“Are you going to just stand there and look dumb?” Aemond’s voice cut through her thoughts.

She looked up at him. “No, no of course.”

“Of course you’re going to stand there and look dumb?”

Lucera grumbled. “You know what I meant.”

They walked over to the corner of the kitchen. Lucera knew this recipe by heart, having made it many times the past several years at Dragonstone.

“We need to work the butter, first. Cream it up a bit.”

She began unfolding the wax off of the butter.

“They’re quite simple. I don’t know why he wants the two of us to do it. A child could make these by themselves.”

Lucera took the flat end of the spatula and smashed the butter into smaller pieces in the bowl. “You know why he wants us to do it together.”

Aemond pulled out the bag of flour, dipping the cup deep in the bag. “I suppose. Funny thing for him to act like he cares so much about bonding time.” He swiped a knife off of the top of the measuring cup. “So this is what bonding looks like?”

Lucera scoffed. “It could be, if you actually acted like you wanted to be here.”

Across the kitchen, she could hear Jacaera scolding Aegon over the bag of hershey’s kisses. “You do realize we need some of those to actually make the cookies? Save some for the rest of us.”

Aemond paused, mulling over his next words carefully. “I could be doing something else.”

Lucera looked over at Baela, Rhaena, and Helaena, who were giggling over the molasses and brown sugar.

“And what might that be?” She questioned mockingly. While he poured in the sugar and flour, she began mixing in the butter.

“Working.” He turned to face her, dipping his head to look down at her from their close proximity. Sarcasm sat between his next words. “Ever heard of it?”

Lucera was slightly ruffled by this, and even though she caught on to his tone, wasn’t willing to go along with the act. “You don’t know the slightest thing about me.”

He stood behind her to grab something on the other side, and whether it was for stability or otherwise, he put his hand on her waist. She tried not to make any sudden movements to imply she was thrown off or affected by this gesture, and could not say if she was successful or not. His hand was large, fingers stretching across the right side of her lower back. Just breathe. She tried to tamper down her blush, not wanting him to know that he flustered her. It would only make her more of a target.

“Twas just a joke, Lucie.” He smirked, pulling away, and warping his fingers to the newly formed dough in the bowl.

She tried not to watch the way his deft hands worked the dough into a ball. Needing to prove she was not in fact bothered, she replied, “Regardless, I will have you know that I’m in the line of succession. Me, Jacaera, and Baela are all going to uphold Targaryen International Banking after Rhaenyra and Daemon.”

To her surprise, Aemond showed her possibly the first form of respect she had ever received from him. “It’s an honor to not only be a part of our family, but also uphold its greatness.”

Lucera pulled out the various cookie cutters, clearing her throat. They had been apart all this time, their secret torture games known truly just between them. She knew she should hate him, but she didn’t. And the unfortunate circumstances had decided that he must grow into a desirable devil. But she can’t think about that right now. Looking at her cookie shape options, she decided her favorite was the Christmas tree. “I heard you’re inheriting Hightower Associates.”

He smiled, and even though it was tight lipped, she could tell it meant something to him. “Yes. Otto most likely has another decade in him to run it, but it will be mine once he is no longer fit for it. Thank the gods, Aegon and Helaena would destroy it.”

Lucera looked over at her sister and Aegon. He looked at her with light in his eyes, while she double checked each dough ball to ensure they were the same size. As nice as the scene was, his momentary calm was deceiving. She laughed quietly in her throat imagining him being put in charge.

Their own dough had been rolled out, and they began stamping it with the cookie cutter. “I’m sure you will do the business much good. You can be…” Lucera looked for the right words, and wondered if it was even a good idea to remind him of his nature in the first place. “Quite intense. And cutthroat.”

He paused at her implicit acknowledgement of the past, looking at her directly once again. His chest was at her eye level, even though she pried her eyes upwards to meet his. The soap on his neck had a clean, sharp scent. “Yes. I suppose I haven’t changed much.” He waited for any kind of reaction, but she figured it best to not give him any. Lest he get any real ideas.

Lucera slid the cookies into the oven, the warmth heating up her arms. She vaguely recalled when Aemond had tried to shut her arms in the frame of the oven, and startled herself with his proximity.

He noticed her pulling away from the oven with fear in her eyes. “Relax. My days of trying to scar you are over.” Aemond poured a small stream of milk over the powdered sugar on the stove. “Besides, my hands are busy. And there’s people here.”

It wasn’t until she finished sliding the tray in the oven and closed the door that she processed his meaning.

She looked up at him, eyes widened. “You’re not going to…?” Lucera didn’t say it out loud, for she didn’t want anyone else to hear.

He continued stirring, the smell of the heated sugar between them. “We’re both adults now. I wouldn’t be so senseless.”

The tension she had been holding around him had faded, filled in with relief. “I don’t know why,” she chuckled, “I just didn’t know what to expect.”

His side-eye landed on her, but he was playing lighthearted. “You wound me Lucera. Surely I would hope you think higher of me than that.”

“Hm.” She smirked at him, wanting to joke with him as he had to her. “You’ll just have to prove how smart you are then.”

His face held an unreadable expression, but she still counted anything besides scowling as progress.

The butter, sugar, and flour were melding together in the oven, releasing a heavenly smell. Lucera released some of the tension she had held around him. Perhaps this new chapter of their lives could strengthen their family, instead of tearing it apart as their childhood had.

Reading the golden edges of the cookies, Lucera determined they were finished and removed them out of the oven without fear of Aemond shutting her arm in. The royal icing was ready, and she put them in the refrigerator so the cookies were able to cool before they could put the icing on.

A large guffaw of laughter exploded from the other side of the kitchen, where Joanie and Daeron were saddled with powdered sugar. It had lodged itself in the creases of their faces, deepening their smile lines. In their attempt to brush it off their faces, they only served to spread the sugary dust to every surface in their vicinity.

Daeron, upon realizing the blessing this was, ran to Aegon with his snowy sugared hands and started furiously wiping them on the back of Aegon’s sweater.

Having been attacked by the enemy in a blind spot, Aegon was initially at the disadvantage. But, once he turned around, he used his height and weight to throw Daeron to the ground.

This move might have deterred many from another attack, but Daeron was a Targaryen, afterall. He grabbed onto Aegon’s leg, not letting go. It was an advanced move, leaving the victim—Aegon—unable to do much else than furiously try to peel him away.

Joanie made a jump to his other leg despite Aegon’s protests for her to not get involved. The two clung to his calves, anchoring him to the floor, giggling in victory. Aegon ceased his complaining and sighed in defeat.

“Anyone want to help me?” Aegon moaned.

Jacaera was busy pressing what was left of the hershey’s kisses into the cookies. She shrugged. “I can’t, I have to do this while they’re fresh out of the oven.” Besides, she was too amused by the situation.

“Sorry, I don’t want to get powdered sugar all over my new pants.” Baela shouted from across the kitchen.

Aemond was also pleased by his brothers, and after hesitating a few moments too long, began long strides towards the scene.

He had nearly reached Aegon, but once Daeron had peeked his head around Aegon’s knee to see the long legs of his other brother coming towards them, he flung himself off of Aegon and skittered across the floor. Joanie was quick to follow.

Once the cookies were all primed and pretty—to the best of their ability, at least—Lucera padded up the steps with a giggling Jacaera. In the parlor, Rhaenyra was drinking tea with Alicent. They must have heard of Viserys’ plan, as they looked at Lucera with concern, subtly checking over her limbs and face for any signs of harm as they had done when she was younger.

Alicent leaned over with furrowed brows and express interest, Rhaenyra had worry in her eyes. “How was baking my darlings?”

Knowing that they truly wished to know of her wellbeing, Lucera was relieved that for once around the holidays, she could tell them the truth. “It was good! No unlucky burns or anything! Just tasty cookies.”

They brought a plate over with all of their treats.

Rhaenyra beamed at her daughters. “I see gingerbreads, sugar cut-outs, and—?”

Jacaera leaned forward. “Peanut butter kisses. Aegon ate half of the hershey’s chocolates, so we didn’t have enough to put on top of all of them. Those ones are just plain peanut butter cookies.”

Alicent rolled her eyes through her smile, lovingly joking. “Of course he did, the little twat. I’m sure they’re still delicious.”

“Once he stopped eating the candy and started participating, he really enjoyed baking. Does he ever go down to the kitchens to bake?”

Lucera raised her eyebrows. She knew exactly what made Aegon so interested in baking earlier, and it wasn’t the sweets.

“He’s never thought it interesting before. Perhaps he was just happy to see everyone.” Alicent had toned down her surprise at the idea that he enjoyed the experience, having a mother’s sense of what was really at play. Her and Lucera shared a knowing glance, Jacaera none the wiser.

“And you Lucera?” Alicent had turned to face her.

“Oh yes! Aemond and I got along quite well. He’s an arse, but it suits him.” The sense of relief she glimpsed earlier had returned, and the weight of lying no longer chained to her. She was able to be genuine without having to pretend. It was a welcome feeling.

“He’s a proud man, that’s for sure. I still don’t know where he inherited his arrogance.” Alicent chimed.

Rhaenyra was put at ease with the grace of her features, always knowing the truth of her daughter. A shadow of skepticism remained, but she was optimistic that their maturation had changed things. “I’m glad you had a good time, darling.”

At least for the time being, any fears she had could be put to rest.

It had been a hard period of time when she had lied to her, both of them knowing that there was something much deeper to her words. It had been why, without too much evidence, Rhaenyra had decided it best that they spend a few holidays alone at Dragonstone. Viserys had insisted that they return each year, believing that it best for the family to be together when there was tension. Namely, after the accident where Aemond lost his eye, and his consequent aggression towards Lucera. Rhaenyra could only look at the truth in her daughter’s eyes for so long.

He hadn’t done anything out in the open, but he was occasionally sloppy. He was only a child after all, and was still learning how to keep a victim silent. He was lucky it was Lucera, who in her docility and self-blaming from the accident, let him act as he saw fit.

Her least favorite memory was when he held her head over the tub in the basement filled with water. He had grabbed her hair and held her face under water, keeping it there until her squirms softened to near limpness. He would then pull her up again, allowing for her to catch her breath before repeating the cycle. She had silently trusted him to let her live. It didn’t make the moments she spent choked underwater any less terrifying.

That had been the last time she saw him. Rhaenyra had remembered her coming up the stairs, face flushed, edges of her hair wet. Lucera recalled telling her that she slipped and fell in the snow outside, but her eyes had given her away. Even after much pressure, Rhaenyra still wasn’t sure what had happened, but she knew Aemond was involved and that Lucera looked like she had been through a torture sequence. Which, of course, she had.

But those days were behind them. He had said it himself.

------------

Later in the evening, after a light dinner, a particularly competitive game of Scrabble that nearly ended with Daemon’s knife at Aemond’s throat, and a Hallmark movie that Viserys claimed would “calm everyone down” (which it hadn’t—not entirely—although the two had slowly united across the one hour and thirty five minute screen time against their hatred for such movies), the family had dispersed and found their ways to bed.

Lucera was tucked in, nearly drowning in the comforter, just how she liked it. There was just one thing—she needed water. Her eyes had closed, her body tired and unwilling to go downstairs. But her throat was scratching for relief, and no amount of willing herself to sleep had changed it.

She skimpered down the steps, her long fuzzy socks lightening the blow of her feet. All of the lights had been turned off, and she relied on the underlights of the cabinets to light her way.

Under the fridge light, she filled up her cup.

The silence was broken by the stream coming from the fridge, and then by footsteps coming near. Lucera tried to cover up what little she could, as a simple t-shirt and underwear had been all she needed in the privacy of her room. She hoped whoever it was wouldn’t look too closely or scold her for being so indecent.

She would be gone in a moment anyway.

Putting her water glass in the sink, she turned to go down the hallway when she saw the illumination of platinum hair in the dark.

“Aemond.” And even though she whispered, the surprise was not lacking in her voice.

“Lucera. It’s getting late.” He was stepping closer to her, his voice soft.

“I was just a bit thirsty. I’m going back to bed now.” She tried to step around him, but he blocked her way with his arm against the wall.

“You know, before I saw you I wondered if I’d continue our little games.” He glazed his eye over her near-nakedness. “I thought I might not. And then I saw you, this pretty little thing, and I realized that we can have so much more fun together.”

She knew what he meant by it, but tried to ignore it for the moment. “But I thought you said you wouldn’t—”

“I said I wouldn’t scar you. I never said I wouldn’t do other things.” He grabbed a lock of her hair, twisting it between his fingers. “Oh how you’ve grown, Lucera.”

She tried to grab at the wrist of his hand in her hair, but he only grabbed onto her wrists instead, pushing her backwards towards a door in the hallway. He fumbled with the knob before throwing her in, the force of it landing her on the floor.

Lucera pulled her hair out of her face and stood up. “You didn’t need to be so rough with me.”

He grabbed her chin domineeringly soft. “Look at me, Lucera.”

Her lip quivered and she looked up at him, her large doe eyes unable to prevent her from looking nothing but innocent.

He looked deep in her eyes, commanding her submission with nothing but a look. “You always let me torture you, sweet little thing.”

All breath in her body halted, every movement, every beat of blood. The silence around her grew louder, unsure if she had heard him correctly.

“But now I want to do other things to you. I’m still using your body, of course, just in a different way. And you’re still going to listen to me, just like you always have?” Aemond tilted her jaw upwards to the right, then moved it to the left, as if he was examining her face from every angle.

The blood moving through her veins got thicker, her heart quickening its pace. Lucera quietly admitted to herself that she was excited at the idea that he could want her that way. Did he really think her attractive enough to want? He couldn’t mean what she thought he meant. Did he? Surely he didn’t want her like that.

He sneered in her face, clearly finding her dumbfoundedness amusing. “Look at you. Big eyes just looking up at me, waiting for validation. I knew you’d do anything I’d ask. Hells, you’ll probably enjoy it too.”

Lucera didn’t know how he had such a hold on her. How could he get away with talking to her like this? Why did she let him? Why was her belly aching with heat? She could feel her arousal dripping along her slit, sitting warm in her panties.

She pulled every last string of dignity together and tightened her hold to say, “No, Aemond. You’re not allowed to treat me this way.” and tried her hardest to turn away from him.

But, he was quick to react, and immediately pulled her backside flush against him, arms locked across her neck and midsection. “Squirm all you want. I see how your eyes hold nothing but submission for me, they always have. Is it guilt? Or something else?” He leaned down to whisper in her ear. “I don’t believe you wouldn’t enjoy every last drop of anything I give you. I’ll prove it to you right now.”

He moved his hand knowingly across her hip bones, giving them a hearty squeeze before sliding his fingers down her thigh to hike up her skirt. Her panic was felt immediately as she put her back and shoulders into every push and shove she gave him. “No, no no no, don’t—”

“Why? Are you worried about what I’ll find?” She wasn’t able to break out of the cage that was his strength, and his fingers gently trailed across the thin fabric hiding her entrance. What little barrier she had did a poor job of concealing her heated wetness.

He began lightly circling her clit, bending his face into her neck. “Tsk tsk tsk. Just as I thought, Lucie.”

She whimpered. “I just, I just am confused.”

“Hmm? I don’t think your body is confused. Your body wants me, Lucie. It wants me inside you. It’s all soaking and ready to take me.”

“You’re just so mean to me. I can’t let you do this if you’re mean to me.”

Aemond chuckled, feeling her melt into his touch as his deft fingers pleasured her. “You’ve always been so good at letting me take out my frustrations on you. This is no different, Lucie.”

She whimpered in his arms, unable to control the profound pleasure he was thrusting upon her. And it was him. There was something so enrapturing about his presence. She wanted to be engulfed in it, to feed off of it. But he had too much power—it wasn’t fair, he had always had the upper hand.

He slipped his fingers underneath the constraints of her underwear, immediately finding her slick folds. He gathered some of the wetness he found there and brought it up to her clit, where he rubbed gentle circles against her. “You’re soaking for me Lucie. I want to hear you submit to me. Your body is begging you.”

She whimpered again. The pleasure was too great, his weight pressed against her from all sides. Lucera needed more. Her resolve and rationality were slipping, disintegrating into a state of utter obedience, the teasing becoming too much to bear. It was like he was drowning her again.

“Anything, I’ll do anything, Aemond. I need this,” her voice squeaked from under his arm.

He laughed darkly in her ear before licking it, the warm sensation filling out through the rest of her body. “You will listen and do as I say, yes?”

“Yes. I swear it.” She cried.

“Good. On your knees, sweet girl.”

Her eyes got even bigger as she received his command. Lucera hesitated, looking up at him in his utter assertiveness. The look in his eye alone made her knees buckle.

Softly finding the most comfortable position she could on her knees, she tilted up her chin, attempting to hold as much dignity as possible. He grabbed both of her cheeks with each hand, fat pudging out between his thumbs and forefingers.

“You’re going to swallow my cock, do you understand? And when I decide I want to fuck your throat, I will.” He moved his right thumb down to her chin. “And if you bite, we can play one of our old games.”

She wouldn’t have bit him, but she was old enough to realize he got off on the power he had over her. And yet, she didn’t have to fake her submission. It was real, and it soaked her through.

With that, he let go of her face and gave her a playful slap on the cheek.

His hands remained at his sides, and she took that to mean that she must be the one to remove his pants.

Lucera tried to conceal the hesitation to approach his cock, but she couldn’t help herself. The bulge reaching across his leg was considerable, and she was unsure about trying to stuff something so large in her throat.

When she finally collected the courage to pull down the flannel in her fingertips, she was truly faced with the reality of such an act.

He was beautiful. Of course, even his cock has to be perfect. She took her hand, and worked the warm skin up and down, twisting her palm ever so slightly.

“Suck.” He said bluntly.

“I’ll try, but I don’t know how I’m going to—”

“If you can’t figure it out, I think pounding your throat will do the trick.” He interjected, his hand landing in her hair firmly.

This drove her to action, as she wanted to maintain as much control in the situation as possible. She pushed the head past her lips, his salty precum landing on her tongue. Her jaw expanded as much as it could, and she pushed herself to swallow his length.

Lucera could already feel the sides of her mouth being triggered to wetness by the intrusion, and she was thankful for it. She held onto the base to steady herself, and she began slowly moving back and forth, lathing her tongue on the bottom of his cock.

She could feel his hands shift in her hair as he played with it gently, combing his fingers through.

“You’re such a good girl, Lucera”

His voice felt like pure encouragement, and his validation was something she had never felt before. Lucera decided she liked that feeling.

She pushed herself deeper on him as her throat warmed up, but was still unable to fit it all. She tried using her hand to make up for what she couldn’t reach, and although she wished she could deep throat him, she was proud that she had made it this far.

He grabbed her hair a bit more assertively, and guided her up and down with a touch more of force. “You’re taking it so well, your throat wraps around me perfectly.”

Her eyes had begun to slightly water, but she still tried to connect their eyes. She had read in a magazine that boys liked that.

He began to move her head even more strongly, and pushed her throat further on his cock. She gagged, but he only moaned in his chest, the sensation squeezing his cock in her throat.

Lucera could hardly see, her tears clouding her vision. Her saliva gathered around her lips and slopped down her chin as she felt him push deep into her throat.

“Look at you, on your knees for me. This is where you belong.” He thrust into her mouth, holding her by the back of her head. As rough as he was, Lucera found that she just wanted to impress him. To show him that she wasn’t weak, and that she was capable.

“Fuck, Lucera.” He moaned above her, his breath deepening. With animalistic impulse, he worked her throat with lewd hunger, before pulling her as hard as he could towards his hips.

She knew what was about to happen, and although she was still choking on his cock, braced herself. Lucera felt his length throb in her mouth as he unloaded down her gullet and straight to her belly.

Having ceased his brutal thrusts, Aemond brushed her hair gently. “Swallow all of it, Lucie.”

She subconsciously tried to swallow around it, but it was difficult to move much of anything.

After holding her there for a few more moments, he released her. She stuttered backwards slightly, coughing and gulping for air.

He tucked himself back beneath his waistband, and bent down next to her. He took her shirt and wiped off the excess spit that had gathered around her chin, and then moved it up to wipe her eyes.

“You’re gorgeous on your knees, you know that?” His hand dragged languidly against her inner thigh, towards her underwear. She inhaled deeply at his movements, canting her hips to meet his hand.

“You’re so needy, aren’t you?” He tilted his head, looking down at her below him devilishly. “My cock down your throat only made you more soaked, hmm?”

His words burned into her pleasure, and Lucera couldn’t help but whimper. His fingers on her moved in light circles on her clit, warping the pleasure building inside her.

“Tell me how it felt in your throat.” His voice poured over her. She drank in each syllable of every lewd word spitting out of his mouth like ambrosia.

“You felt heavy on my tongue,” Lucera said, her breathing erratic. “I didn’t know how I was going to take it.”

“Hmm, that’s right.” He drawled. “It’s not easy taking a thick down your throat is it?”

“N-no.” She mewled.

“But you did a good job,” he brushed his thumb above her stomach. “You didn’t miss a drop.”

She panted as he loomed above her, playing her body like an instrument. She had already been so worked up, so much ache already inside her, that she knew her orgasm was coming. Aemond must have noticed too, for he picked up his pacing to the exact tempo she needed.

“Cum on my fingers, Lucie.”

She didn’t need anything further than his voice to send her over the edge as her eyes rolled back in her head, orgasmic pleasure bursting deep in her belly. She did her best to hold back the amplitude of the cries in her throat lest someone hear her.

The euphoria rippled through her body, and she could feel his satisfaction at her pleasure. After a few more moments, the lingering contentment was joined by a new wave of drowsiness.

It was late.

Lucera opened her eyes. Aemond stood up, pulling her up with him.

“Sleep well, Lucie.” He opened the door, gave her a quick slap on her ass, and walked towards the kitchen.

Her haze carried her to bed, where she unceremoniously slung herself under the covers, half-unconscious already.

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x lucera velaryon #aemond targaryen x female!Lucerys Velaryon #smut #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #aemond targaryen x Fem!Lucerys #aemond targaryen fanfic

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crownedtargaryen · 2 years ago

Text

ribs. - aemond x reader x lucerys

mine.

MASTERLIST | ( < this story has more parts that cane found here) A/N: this chapter HAS NSFW 18+ content!!! Also, I’m using the fanon adult Lucerys (harry gilby) (above) TW: THIS STORY WILL INCLUDE INCEST, SEXUAL CONTENT, ANGST, ABUSIVE TOPICS, INSINUATION OF RAPE, EMOTIONAL MANIPULATION, POST PARTUM. NOTES ARE APPRECIATED! (SHARES, LIKES, COMMENTS) word count: 1.4k taglist: @daenerysapologist @twizzy123 @hopelesswritergall @clairacassidy

My heart raced. I sat in on my wed-to-be's loose conversation with my father, his voice trying to sound as serious as possible as he snuck cheeky smiles over at me and would raise his brows as I would gaze at him longingly, like a lioness with her prey. I could see his hands shaking and gripping the paper resting on the table, his leg bouncing beneath. Eventually, he could not take the conversation any longer.

"We do not crave a large drawn-out ceremony, we wish to wed as soon as possible. Is that alright with you?" He gazes at my father, who is easing at the idea of a simpler approach. A smaller wedding means less money spent; an excuse to cheap his way out of formalities without seeming careless.

"Yes. Yes, that works perfectly, I wish to create allegiance together as soon as possible. In a few moons, we shall pair our homes." He stands, Lucerys returning the action as they stare at each other quietly. Then, my father reaches out. Lucerys shakes his hand quickly.

"Now, I must discuss with my wife-to-be some more serious matters. So we shall see you in the morrow my Lord." He steps toward me, my father nodding slowly then making his way out of the room. I stand, moving from my chair. But, Lucerys turns the chair and pushes me back into it, my eyes widening in shock. He walks to the door, making sure it's secure then walks back, getting on his knees in front of me unbuttoning his tunic quickly. "Princess, I crave you in such ways I cannot explain. Please, I must." he hooks his arms under my legs and opens them, pulling me forward in the chair. I stare at him as he returns the gaze with fire. He waits for my word, eager and ready as his tunic is halfway down his shoulders, open but not fully taken off. He lacks patience, it's flattering.

"Here? What if someone comes in? My room holds much more privacy." I say weakly, my breath and hands shaking as I pet his hair. He stares at me, swallowing hard and looking at the door for a moment.

"Princess, I can't wait. I could barely stand still, your eyes are so very tempting," he whispers, his lips moving to my knee and up my leg as his hand moves up my dress. I inhaled sharply, looking around the room. "But if you wish, we will change locations. Or, we won't do it at all. Don't make my eagerness force you." He murmurs, nipping my thigh with his teeth and looking up to me. Those forest-brown eyes worked me up even more than I was before.

"Claim me, Lucerys Velaryon," I command, watching the childlike innocence snap from him. He hooks his arms under my legs once more, his forearms up my waist as he rips me from any undergarments I have. No hesitation, his head pushes itself beneath my dress where I cannot see him, confused about what he may be doing.

Then, I feel it. His tongue trails parts of me that haven't been discovered by anyone before in such a way, a slick pooling onto his tongue and my legs clutching his head as I feel his large hands grip my waist, pushing his muscles under my legs to force them onto his shoulders. He ravishes me, tongue dancing on my clit and prodding my insides. I choke on my breath, quickly lifting my dress up and off of me, watching his eyes immediately move to mine, not at all distracted by my chest. I could tell he wanted to look, but he wasn't doing this for him. He did this because he craved to please me, it twisted something inside me positively.

"Lucerys," I murmured, hands tangling in his hair. He raised his brows innocently, a glimmer in his eyes as he looked at me. I wanted to tilt my head back and yell his name for all the world to hear. But, I never looked away from him. He moved from my goods, looking at my dripping cunt eagerly with glossed lips.

"(Y/N)..." he whispers, kissing my lower lips and glancing up at me. He stands, his tunic finally falling as he slams his hand on the side of my head and leans over me with a predator-like gaze. His other hand grabs my chin, forcing me to look at him as he smiles.

I melt beneath him.

Luke kisses me, forcing me to taste myself on his tongue and lips. His hand trails from my chin to my thigh, rubbing it slowly. It moves inward, two fingers touching my entrance, slipping inside as I inhale sharply, he moves without rhythm, forcing me to guess his pattern and not expect the pleasures he fills me with. I peek at him during the kiss, his muscles dripping sweat and his cheeks pink. He pulls back breathlessly, looking into my eyes longingly he pushes a third finger in, shocking me, and my body tenses with excitement. "Please, let me make you mine. Your body is perfect, your cunt is tempting me, Princess." Lucerys' hot breath tingles my face, and his hand that was previously next to my head rests on my side. He pulls me in, pressing my wetness to his cloth as his fingers move in a slow and teasing movement, a smooth petting motion on my sensitive spots making me coo and whimper pathetically.

"Please, take me as yours... Swell me with your kin." I whine, watching his predatory gaze ignite once more. He quickly undoes his pants, letting them drop and ripping off his underwear, scooping me up gingerly by the waist.

"I'm giving you a night you'll remember for an eternity." He whispers, setting me on the table we previously sat at. He lays me down, grabbing my thighs and pulling me to the edge, hooking them around his lower half as he rubs his base against my folds, lubricating it for easier access. Slowly, he pushes inside.

I watch his eyes roll back for a moment, doubling over and gripping the table’s edges next to me. He stares into my eyes, dazed and panting softly with a groan. Slowly, he moves. I feel his cock drag in and out with deep-rooted passion, slow at first then pacing himself faster and faster. A soft growl escaped him as his hair sticks to his face from the sweat dripping from him.

"Fuck," he murmurs, closing his eyes and leaning his head back, his muscles flexing as his chest heaves. I feel myself growing a ball of pleasure in my stomach, something about to explode inside of me. "Please, please please please." He repeats helplessly, moving his head down and kissing over my chest, lips teasing my buds. He looks up at me, with admiration and emotion I can't place in his gaze.

Suddenly, he says the words that drive me over the edge.

He moves his head up, lips hovering over mine as he smiles at me, panting heavily.

"I love you."

And with that, my vision goes white as his lips lock with mine, screaming his name into his mouth as I claw his back. I feel a warmth burst inside me as he cradles me close, squeezing me so hard I may bruise.

I catch my breath, looking at the man who confessed love for me. I gaze into his eyes, he refuses to separate eye contact, pulling out of me and scooping my shaky figure up, sitting on the chair, and setting me on his thigh. I feel him spread my legs, eyes wandering downward as he smirks cheekily and moves his fingers to my entrance, pushing our juices inside of me. Deeper and deeper. I whine in a stinging pain, burying my face in his neck.

"You're beautiful, (Y/N)," he whispers, wiping his hand off and rubbing my back. "Let's get you dressed Princess." He holds me close for a moment before grabbing my dress, putting it over my head and adjusting it for me, fixing my hair, and using my ripped underwear to wipe my legs off from the mess we made. I watch him slip his clothes back on, stopping me when I try to stand and help.

"Stay." He commands with a tone I never expected from him, flushing and staying put. He picks up his belt, moves over, and grabs the underwear. Slowly, he scoops me up and kisses my cheek gently. Without a word, we walk to my bedroom after he cleans up any mess that was left behind.

He helps me get undressed once more, stripping from his shirt and crawling into bed with me, tucking us in and holding me close. No words were exchanged, we enjoyed our afterglow and the affection between one another.

"Goodnight Princess," he whispers, kissing my forehead.

"Goodnight Lucerys," I return, burying my face in his shoulder as he pets my back. I close my eyes, drifting slightly. But, before I rest I say one more phrase.

"I love you too."

105 notes · View notes

softspiderling · 6 months ago

Text

and i burn for you (and you don’t even know my name) | j.v

summary:

“Something like that, “ you sighed, eyeing him briefly. Jacaerys tried not to flinch at the clear rejection and pressed his lips together.

“I should leave-”

“No, please, don’t leave on my behalf…. My prince.”

OR; Jacaerys is usually a lot more suave when it comes to ladies. That was before he met you.

pairing: jacaerys velaryon x reader

warnings: SMUT! 18+, MDNI, p in v, oral sex (fem receiving), doesn't follow canon, Jace has been aged up to 20!

word count: 7,5k words (oh)

author's note: this is very much is an indulgent story bc i miss Luke and Jace🥲 also inspired by close to you by gracie abrams ! pls let me know ALLL YOUR THOUGHTS!!! happy reading🫶🏼🫶🏼

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Do you think my hair will get just as luscious as yours did after you got back from Winterfell?”

Jacaerys’ rolled his eyes at his brother. They were on their second day of journey from King’s Landing to Winterfell. It was to be Cregan Stark’s name day and he had cordially invited Jacaerys and his family to the celebrations. His mother could not just leave her throne at King’s Landing, and Daemon wouldn’t go without her. Joffrey, Viserys and Aegon where still too young to go, so only Jacaerys and Luke rode to Winterfell on dragonback. They could’ve made it in one day if they had wanted to, but they were in no hurry. Well, Jacaerys wasn’t. He knew what temperatures were expecting him. Luke didn’t, which was why he was so antsy to get there and almost didn’t pack the fur lined gloves their mother had laid out for them. Jacaerys couldn’t wait until the biting, cold winds hit Luke’s face for the first time. He would treasure the memory forever.

“Har har, good one,” Jacaerys said dryly. “The court jester should watch out or you will be going for his position in no time.”

Luke grinned at his older brother wickedly, opening his mouth once more to say another jest, Jacaerys had no doubt about it, but the words died on Luke’s tongue when the winds suddenly turned cold, whipping his hair around like icicles.

“Seven hells!” he cursed and Arrax let out a soft whine, not used to the coldness, just like his rider.

“Nyke ivestretan zirȳla, paktot Vermax?” Jacaerys whispered to his dragon, stroking Vermax’ neck with his gloved hand and the creature let out a puff of smoke. I warned him, didn’t I Vermax?

It wasn’t much longer until the two brothers reached Winterfell, their dragons landing just in front of the gates of town. Jacaerys could already see Cregan’s imposing figure standing by the gate as he climbed off of Vermax, carefully patting his snout. He took the bags off his saddle, Lucerys doing the same before leaning his forehead against Vermax’.

“Sȳz valonqar. Umbagon va, ao rȳbagon issa? Se jurnegon hen syt Arrax” Good boy. Stay near, you hear me? And take care of Arrax.

Vermax let out a soft rumble, pressing his snout against Jacaerys’ hand, before he and Arrax leapt back in the air, disappearing across the woods with few wing flaps. Jacaerys wasn’t sure where exactly they went, but he assumed it was some warm cave. Winterfell didn’t exactly have a dragon pit.

“Woah,” Luke gasped, astounded by the amount of white surrounding them.

“I told you,” Jacaerys said, shouldering his bags as Cregan approached them, several pages in tow.

“Prince Jacaerys!” Cregan’s voice boomed across the snowy field, before he stopped in front of the two princes. “What an honor to have you.”

The two men sized each other up, before breaking out in laughter as Cregan pulled Jacaerys into a hug.

“It is good to see you, my friend.”

“And you, Cregan,” Jacaerys replied, patting Cregan’s back that was cloaked in a warm fur. He really ought to ask him what animal pelt it was, he never seemed to be cold. Luke was shifting on his feet next to him and Jacaerys took a step back to introduce his brother.

“Lord Cregan, this is my brother.”

“Ah, the infamous Prince Lucerys,” Cregan said with a smile, shaking Luke’s hand. Based on his face, Jacaerys could tell his brother was struggling to keep a straight face; Cregan’s handshakes were nothing but firm.

“Lord Cregan, it is an honor to finally make your acquaintance.”

“I have heard much about you.”

“Ah,” Luke sighed, hand still enclasped in Cregan’s. “I’m sure all lies.”

“Only good things, your brother has shared high praises of you.”

Luke glanced over to his brother in surprise and Jacaerys only raised his eyebrows at him. Cregan finally let go of Luke’s hand, clapping him on the shoulder, sending the younger man nearly flying.

“How old are you, Lucerys?”

“Ten and eight, my lord. And please, call me Luke.”

“Very well,” Cregan said with a grin. “You’re the prime age of a young prince, Luke. Are you courting anyone?”

“No,” Luke replied, his cheeks reddening. Jacaerys only snickered, ignoring the deathly glare his younger brother sent him.

“No worry. There are a few of very beautiful ladies that will be attending, maybe one or two will catch your royal eyes.”

Cregan gave Jacaerys a knowing look, but he only rolled his eyes, stretching his hands, the coldness starting to seep into his gloves.

“I am about to lose feeling in my limbs, can we continue this dreadful conversation inside?”

“Of course. I apologize, I forget that you are not accustomed to our weather,” Cregan said, motioning for the pages to help the them with their bags. “Let’s get you into the warm, shall we?”

Cregan lead the two brothers towards the Great Keeps, giving Luke a very brief rundown of the grounds as he did. Jacaerys could already feel his fingers warming up; he even dared to take off his gloves.

“We are currently having tea, I would love for you to join but if you wish to get some rest, we can meet again after,” Cregan said, stopping in front of the dining halls.

Jacaerys glanced over to Luke, who only gave him a shrug. “I could do with some food.”

“As do I.”

“Very well.”

Cregan pushed open the door to reveal a lively dining hall, one that Jacaerys was familiar with. He spotted faces he recognized, when his eyes stopped in the middle of the table, surprised to see Lady Alysanne Blackwood sitting next to you, someone he didn’t recognize. Immediately, you turned your head to look at him, as if you had felt his eyes on you. Jacaerys tried not to falter under your gaze.

“Who’s that?” Luke whispered and Jacaerys fought the urge to elbow him.

“The Princes Jacaerys and Lucerys Velaryon!” Cregan announced, causing a ruckus as everyone pushed their chair back to stand. You only followed after Alysanne gently nudged you, folding your hands in front.

“Thank you for having us,” Jacaerys said, him and Lucerys both bowing. “Please, sit.”

As everyone took their seats again, Cregan led him and Luke to the middle of the table, where three seats were empty next to Alysanne and you.

“My princes, may I introduce Lady Alysanne of House Blackwood and Lady-”

Jacaerys almost tuned out Cregan’s voice as he introduced you, but it was like your name was ringing in his ears. He was sure he had never been quite taken with any lady as with you right from the first meeting. Jacaerys cleared his throat, hoping his voice would come out even.

“Lady Alysanne, it’s nice to see you again,” Jacaerys said, bowing to her as Luke followed suit.

“The pleasure is mine, your graces. I hope your journey was swift,” Alysanne replied. “I hear you travelled on dragonback.”

That seemed to pique your interest as you straightened your back, eying Jacaerys with a new found interest. Jacaerys tried to ignore the heat unfurling in his lower stomach. He had seemed to take beat too long to reply, because Luke cut in, throwing a look at his older brother.

“Yes, my lady. It only took us a day and half’s journey.”

“Ah, I envy you. To travel on dragonback and have a short journey. It took me a moon’s turn to get from Raventree Hall to Winterfell,” Alysanne said with a small sigh, turning to you. “Nearly took you two moon’s turns, didn’t it?”

Jacaerys had kept his eyes steadfastly on Alysanne as she spoke, but when she turned to you, he took the chance to do the same. You nodded, fingers between the stem of the chalice you had been drinking from. His eyes lingered on your slender fingers for longer than they should have.

“Two moon’s turns is quite a long journey,” Jacaerys finally pressed out, hoping his voice didn’t sound odd. “Where in the Seven Kingdoms does your house lay?”

Your eyes met his for the first time and Jacaerys felt like he was looking in the eyes of a predator, as if he hadn’t been riding a dragon for nearly all of his life.

“I am from a land beyond Essos,” you finally spoke, voice as smooth as honey. Before you could continue, Alysanne whispered something under her breath and you let out a small laugh, shaking your pretty head, speaking again. “I’m afraid we’re not part of the Seven Kingdoms, your grace.”

The way you accentuated the honorific had Jacaerys sweat, something he never thought he’d do in Winterfell. He managed to give you a wry smile; luckily, Cregan finally gestured towards the empty seats and as Jacaerys sat down - two seats away from you - he let out a breath of relief, desperate for a quick respite. His behavior was mortifying and unbefitting for a crown prince.

“Are you alright?” Luke whispered from his left as he reached for a particularly large meat pie. “It is unlike you to let me do the talking.”

Jacaerys waited as the butler poured him some mulled wine, only stopping him when it was nearly full to the brim. He lifted the chalice, taking a big drink from it, feeling Luke’s eyes on him the whole time.

“It appears the journey has tired me more than I had expected.”

Luke narrowed his eyes at him, but as soon as he bit into the meat pie, the suspicions slid of his face.

“Seven hells, what kind of meat do they put in these?” he almost moaned, already reaching for another. Slob, Jacaerys thought, reaching for some bread himself, leaving his brother to his own world as he discovered the cuisine of the North. Jacaerys glanced over to his friend, but Cregan was in the middle of a conversation with Alysanne; they were speaking in hushed tones, Jacaerys could barely make out a word even though he was sitting right next to them.

The way Cregan was whispering to Alysanne suggested a certain familiarity; a familiarity that Jacaerys was surprised by; he hadn’t known that Cregan had taken on a lover, and Alysanne no less, though he could see what had drawn his friend to her.

Jacaerys didn’t pay attention for half a second before his eyes impulsively laid on you. He didn’t want to be caught staring, but you seemed preoccupied listening to Alysanne as she talked, so he allowed himself a few moments to take you in. Your hair fell over your shoulder in soft waves, the bodice of your dress was snug around your chest. The more he looked, the dryer his throat became, suddenly the bread in his mouth tasted days old. Letting out a soft cough, Jacaerys reached for his wine, nearly finishing all of it in one to, desperate to quench his thirst.

He wondered if all women from your land looked like you or if it was just you that had him so enthralled. Jacaerys was lost in thoughts so deeply, he didn’t even realize that Cregan had turned his attention to him.

“Did someone catch your eye?”

“What?”

Jacaerys teared his eyes from you to look at his friend, who was sipping on his wine, eyebrows raised. Despite trying to seem nonchalant, the crown prince knew a pink flush creeped on his cheeks; he’d blame it on the wine if Cregan would ask.

“I was enjoying the festivities.”

“You’re surely enjoying something.”

“I’m positively not enjoying this conversation,” Jacaerys sniffed. Cregan laughed, placing his heavy hand on his shoulder. Jacaerys tried not to falter under it.

“I like her. She’s a good friend of Lady Alysanne’s. Though if her behavior grates you: her land does not have a king or queen, so she might not be familiar with our customs. She is also especially forward; I fear that was a given, considering the company she seeks.”

Jacaerys knew immediately what Cregan was alluding to. Alysanne had a reputation for not holding her tongue when something displeased her, there were a good handful of people who quite dislike her for it.

“I’m sure you will get along with her fine, my prince.”

Jacaerys hummed, glancing over to you for a split second before looking away for fear of being caught again, but in doing so, he missed you looking back at him with raised brows. After the table was cleared, you and Alysanne excused yourselves to your chambers. Jacaerys stared after you until you disappeared from sight, his hands clasped.

“Let me show you to your chambers for some rest,” Cregan offered. “Jacaerys, I had the same chambers prepared as last time.”

The three men walked through the hallways of Winterfell once more, stopping in front of Jacaerys’ chambers.

“Someone will fetch you for supper, please get some rest in the meantime,” Cregan said, clasping Jacaerys on the back. Jacaerys glanced over at Luke, who waved him off, so he entered his chambers as Cregan walked Luke to his, with the latter chattering excitedly.

As the door shut behind Jacaerys, the chambers were engulfed in silence and he was finally able to breathe. The room was comfortably decorated, of course in no way as lavish as his chambers in King’s Landing, but everything he would need was there. Taking off his cloak and his doublet, Jacaerys hung them over the small bench that sat near the fire, before he laid down on the bed, staring up the canopy with a sigh.

Gods, he really needed to get it together. He would not allow himself to act like such a fool in front of you again. He couldn’t even understand what it was about you that had him so shaken to the core. Jacaerys had never been the kind of man who stuttered around when it came to women. He knew what he had to offer, he knew a lot of women found his status appealing. But something about you was just…. Infuriating. It made him lose his footing.

Jacaerys was still questioning his life choices that led to this moment, when the door suddenly flung open, and he knew immediately who it was without having to move; there was only one person in whole Winterfell who would barge into his chambers like this.

“Your chambers are so much nicer than mine!” Luke crowed, throwing his hands up in the air before he dropped onto the bed next to Jacaerys. “I do have to say, even though it is freezing outside, the Northeners know how to keep it comfy in their chambers.”

Jacaerys let out a small sigh.

“What are you doing here, Luke?”

“Gods, why are you such in a sour mood?”

“Maybe because I am tired from the journey and you’re sitting here talking about meaningless things,” Jacaerys lamented with a pointed look in his younger brother’s direction, who only pursed his lips, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Let me move onto meaningful topics then,” he agreed. “You didn’t tell me Lord Cregan is betrothed to Lady Alysanne.”

“He’s not, as far as I know,” Jacaerys replied, resigning himself to the fact that Luke wasn’t going to leave anytime soon. “I was taken by surprise just as you were.”

Luke didn’t answer; for a brief second Jacaerys wondered if he had fallen asleep, and he wasn’t sure if he’d be happy about or not.

“What did you think of her friend?” Luke finally asked and Jacaerys rolled his eyes. There it was. “She’s pretty, right? I think she might be interested in me.”

“What makes you think she would be interested in you?” Jacaerys pressed out, annoyed. He knew Luke was baiting him, but what if he wasn’t? His younger brother turned over to look at him, the corners of his mouth tugging up.

“I knew it. You’re absolutely smitten with her.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I barely exchanged two words with her,” Jacaerys said defensively.

“Exactly. She makes you shiver in your boots like a child and swallow your words like Vermax does goats.”

“Blasphemous,” Jacaerys snapped, his cheeks growing hot. “I’m the Crown Prince of the Seven Realms, I do not get flustered around a lady.”

“I cannot wait until you talk to her again,” Luke remarked gleefully.

Jacaerys reached over to grab one of the fluffy pillows that was resting against the headboard to whack Luke in the face with it.

The next day, Jacaerys found himself with some time by himself. Cregan was greeting some more of the guests that were arriving for his celebration that evening, and Luke had wanted to see the training grounds of Winterfell, so Jacaerys ventured out by himself, walking the walls. He passed a few guards, who bowed respectfully as they marched past him. They asked if he got lost, if they should walk him back inside where it was warm, but he declined.

Despite the cold snow that was falling from the sky, Jacaerys enjoyed leaving the castle for a few moments. Winterfell was peaceful, the white that covered the grounds allowed him to breathe, a stark contrast to the grounds of King’s Landing. As the cold winds started to pick up, Jacaerys turned to head back, but he stopped in his tracks when he saw you standing by yourself at the wall, staring out at the distance. Jacaerys hesitated.

His interaction with you last night at supper was… Passable. He had managed to keep the conversation going, he still wasn't happy with himself. But this was unfamiliar territory, he hadn’t ever been alone with you. What if he made a fool of himself?

Before Jacaerys could decide what to do, his feet already carried him over to you. At the sounds of the snow crunching under his soled shoes, you turned around, your eyebrows risen in surprise. Your cheeks were red from the cold, despite the fur-lined cloak that engulfed your shoulders.

“Oh, it’s you,” you said, your breath visible in the cold air.

“Only me,” Jacaerys confirmed, bowing his head slightly in greeting. You did the same. “Come out here for some quiet?”

“Something like that, “ you sighed, eyeing him briefly. Jacaerys tried not to flinch at the clear rejection and pressed his lips together.

“I should leave-”

“No, please, don’t leave on my behalf…. My prince.”

You added the honorific after a brief pause, and Jacaerys stayed rooted in his spot. You seemed like you were in deep thought, and your voice was hesitant when you spoke again.

“I am unsure as to what the difference is, if I’m being quite honest. Do you want me to refer to you as my prince or as your Grace?”

“You can refer to me as anything you want,” Jacaerys said quickly. Too quickly.

The frown on your face smoothed, a grin growing in its stead. “Indeed?”

“I meant,” Jacaerys pressed, trying to sustain any sort of dignity. “You’re not from Westeros, you do not need to address me as your Grace or my prince.”

“I wouldn’t want to seem disrespectful,” you added. “Folks are already whispering about the “foreign lady”, I do not wish to give them more reason to be suspicious.”

Jacaerys felt a flash of hot anger coursing through him at the belief of anyone uttering a bad word about you.

“Are you being mistreated, my lady?”

A laugh escaped your lips. “I did not tell for you to fight in my honor, I have endured worse than some meaningless gossip.”

You tossed your hair back, and for a brief second, your scent carried over to Jacaerys’ nose. You smelled… Sweet. A scent that was unfamiliar to him, but not exactly unwelcome. With a small sigh, you turned your head to look at him. Damn it, did you say something?

“So... Your grace or my prince?”

For some reason, either address didn’t feel right. Well. They felt right, but not right. Never before had Jacaerys felt anything when being referred to with the correct title except for a sense of respect and pride that he was being recognized for his status. But for some reason, having you address him with either had Jacaerys feel things in regions where he shouldn’t. And both seem equally catastrophic.

“Either is fine,” he finally settled on. “But if no one is around… It is alright for you to call me by my given name.”

“Jacaerys?”

A shiver ran down his spine at the sound of his name rolling of your tongue so easily. He was done for. No matter what you referred to him as, it made him weak in the knees.

“Or Jace.”

“Is that not improper?” you asked. “I would hate for folks to think I’m getting too familiar with the crown prince.”

He definitely wouldn’t mind getting too familiar with you.

“My friends call me that… And people that I’m close with.”

A corner of your mouth tugged up in a grin. “You wish to be close with me?”

Jacaerys flushed, stuttering. “I-“

“I’m only jesting,” you said, your gloved hand reaching out to touch his arm and even though there were about five layers between, Jacaerys could *feel* your skin on his. He was in trouble. “I will address you properly in public but if no one is around, Jacaerys….”

Your voice trailed off and you took a step towards him, leaning in so you could speak to him in a small whisper.

“I hope we can become friends.”

With that, you bowed your head, stepping back and turned to depart, leaving Jacaerys standing by himself. He exhaled a breath - a breath he had not realized he had been holding this whole time.

Somewhere in the distance, Jacaerys could hear Vermax screech out, no doubtedly feeling exactly what his dragon rider was struggling with.

“Yes, Vermax, you and me both,” Jacaerys muttered with a small sigh, enduring the cold for a little while longer before he retired inside, knowing he had to start getting ready for Cregan’s celebrations soon.

“How much longer are you going to stare at your reflection?”

Jacaerys resisted the impulse to roll his eyes. He was tense enough as it was, giving into Luke’s teasing was not going to help it.

“I’m representing mother at this celebration, a single hair out of place and rumors about my legitimacy as heir might start,” Jacaerys pointed out, wiping off the fleck of dusts that sat on the shoulder of his doublet.

“Of course, we would not want that,” Luke said, his voice taking that annoying tone which Jacaerys knew meant he wasn’t taking him serious. “You are most certainly not trying to look absolutely perfect for a certain lady.”

Jacaerys met Luke’s eyes through the mirror, his forehead creased. “I did not ask you to wait for me. No one is stopping you from going by yourself.”

Luke sighed, pushing himself off of the bench to approach him, hands reaching out to smooth out Jacaerys’ cloak.

“And who is going to tame that one wild curl that always does whatever it wants at the back of your head?”

Jacaerys winced when Luke gently tugged on said curl, setting it in its place, before the younger prince grinned at him through the reflection as the two of them stood in front of the mirror, Luke's shoulders slightly higher than Jacaerys'. He despised the fact that his younger brother was starting to overtake him in height. Jacaerys hoped that Joffrey would stay shorter than him.

“You look fine, Jace,” Luke assured him. “And even if a hair might be out of place, she will think it charming.”

Jacaerys decided against deeming that comment with an answer, instead straightening his shoulders.

“Let’s go then.”

The two brothers headed the the Great Hall and the closer they got, the louder the music became. Jacaerys tried not to pick on his clothes as they walked through the hallways, knowing he was just being antsy at this point. When they finally reached the threshold of the hall, the herald bowed to them both respectfully, waiting until the music quietened down, the guests looking at them.

“Presenting His Grace, Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, heir to the Iron Throne, and his brother, Prince Lucerys Velaryon of House Targaryen!” the herald announced.

The guests all bowed, which Jacaerys and Lukereturned, before they were being led to their seats and Jacaerys tried not to stumble over his feet when he realized that Cregan had sat Luke to his right, whereas Jacaerys sat next to him.

Right next to you.

Jacaerys ignored Luke’s smirk as he sat down, and instead offered you a small smile.

“My lady.”

“Your grace.”

You sent him a conspiratorial smile, before your attention refocused to Cregan, who suddenly stood, lifting his chalice.

"Good evening, my dear guests. On this occasion, the celebration of my name day, I am deeply honored to be surrounded by such loyal friends, family, and allies. I thank everyone who made their long and burdensome journey to celebrate this day with me. Raise your cups, my friends, enjoy the festivities, the music and most importantly, the food. Now, let the feast begin!"

Everyone clapped as Cregan took his seat again, the lively music beginning to play. Immediately, people rose to occupy the dancefloor. You stayed seated, sipping on your wine and Jacaerys watched you out of the corner of his eye, reaching for his own wine, hoping it would ease his nerves. You looked pretty; wearing a dark red dress, the fabric seeming to melt against your skin like it was sown onto your body. Jacaerys tried to not let his gaze linger too much on your cleavage, which was tasteful, but still incredibly distracting. He couldn’t help but think how you and him seemed to be dressed to compliment each other.

“You look very beautiful,” Jacaerys blurted out. You turned to him, eyebrows risen in surprise and his cheeks reddened. “I apologize if it was too forward, I-”

“You look very handsome yourself,” you said, returning the favor with a grin. “At least I know what took you so long to get here.”

By now, Jacaerys was sure that the color of his face rivaled the color of your dress.

“Thank you,” he said, fingers tracing the stem of the chalice. “I try to look my best.”

“It is working in your favor, my prince,” you all but purred quietly, making Jacaerys grip his chalice so tightly, his knuckles turned white.

“Are you alright?”

“Fine,” Jacaerys pressed out, letting a small sigh pass his lips. “I apologize. I am usually more… Composed,” he admitted. You raised an eyebrow at him, but he couldn’t help but feel like you were biting back a smile.

“And you’re not composed right now?”

“No. You…” he paused, letting go of the chalice, stretching his hand out. “You make me nervous.”

He dared to look up to you, searching for any sign of distaste, only to see your gaze focused on his hands, before you lifted your eyes to meet his.

“How?”

“You vex me.”

“In a good way, I hope.”

Jacaerys let out a breathless laughter, shaking his head. “In a very much not good way. This is not behavior befit for a crown prince.”

“Well, it’s just your luck that I have not a single idea of what behavior is befit for a crown prince,” you assured him, placing your hand on his, presumably to console him. It had quite the opposite reaction. “It is just me, you may speak freely.”

“I-” Jacaerys paused, his eyes darting around the countless of guests mingling in the Great Hall, the threat of a listening ear everywhere. “I cannot.”

You nodded in understanding, but Jacaerys could tell that his answer had disappointed you by the way you turned your head away from him. Silently, he cursed himself, feeling the desire for you coiling in his stomach, but unable to act on it.

For the rest of the night, Jacaerys tried to pick up the conversation with you again, and while you did speak with him, it seemed dull, like you were uninterested. He felt incredibly stupid, knowing he had messed up, but despite that, he couldn’t jump over his shadow to address the problem. So he didn’t. He pushed his disappointment in himself aside and tried his best to control the jealousy he felt whenever you accepted the dance of another man, acting like didn’t care at all, especially when Luke was watching, shaking his head.

Cregan was luckily too busy to entertain his guests to meddle, occasionally drawing Jacaerys into his side to clink their cups. Overall, (despite his personal failings) the celebration was a success. It was late in the night, nearing the hour of the wolf when Jacaerys finally retired to his chambers. He had dropped Luke off at his own chambers just before, his younger brother having one too many of the mulled wine and immediately dozing off in clothes.

Shutting the door with his foot, Jacaerys unpinned his cloak, tugging his doublet off, draping it over the small ottoman. His hands were in the collar of his tunic, ready to take it off when short raps on his door made him pause. Was that Cregan fetching him for another drink?

Jacaerys opened the door and his eyebrows rising in surprise when he saw who it was.

“My lady…”

You were standing in front of him, dark cloak slung around your shoulders, about the last person he had expected to come knocking on his door after his last conversation with you had gone. Your face was bare from any trace of cosmetics, but your cheeks still held a rosy glow. Jacaerys peered out into the dark hallway, expecting a handmaiden or anyone accompanying you, but alas, you were by yourself.

“It is late. Is something the matter?” he asked, concerned.

“Everything is fine,” you assured him. “I was feeling a bit restless, I was wondering if you were up for some company?”

Despite feeling exhausted just a few seconds ago, Jacaerys was wide awake now, his heart thrumming with excitement at the prospect of spending time with you alone. But he couldn’t help but hesitate, questioning whether it was smart of him to put himself in a situation he couldn’t control, especially with you.

You sensed his hesitation, tilting your head curiously.

“I can leave, if you wish.”

Before you could even attempt to retreat, Jacaerys’ hand shot out to stop you, and as he saw the amusement on your face, he knew you had never intended to leave.

Minx, he thought to himself, opening his door wider to let you inside. Swiftly, you passed by him and Jacaerys made sure no one saw you enter, before shutting the door. As he turned around, he found you had already settled on the cushioned couch, appearing comfortably at ease.

“These are usually my chambers I stay in when I visit Winterfell,” you said nonchalantly, taking in the chambers and Jacaerys’ possessions that laid scattered around. “You can imagine my surprise when Cregan told me it was occupied for someone else when I arrived.”

Jacaerys tried not to imagine you laying in his bed as he sat down on the bench.

“They are the chambers I stayed in when I visited last time. I assume Cregan wanted me to feel comfortable.”

“The lengths we would go to to make sure you felt comfortable,” you said with a look in his direction and Jacaerys flushed, clearing his throat.

“Do you like these chambers for a reason or are you merely a creature of habit?”

“These are the only chambers that don’t have the fire place directly facing the bed,” you explained, your arms gesturing to the layout of the chambers.

“I know the Northeners like to keep the fire on at night to feel cozy, but I tend to get a little… Hot.”

Oh.

His mouth ran a little dry and he only managed to blink at you, as you grinned, your eyes slowly trailing down his body.

“I imagine it is the same for you. What is it again, the motto of your house?”

Jacaerys opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out of it.

“Fire and blood?” finally pressed out and you arched an eyebrow at him.

“Are you asking or telling me?”

“Telling.”

Your mouth quirked up in a smirk and you brushed your hair back with a flick. “I must say, I have to admit that I thought you less nervous when no one was around.”

“You thought me less nervous when it is just you and I alone in a room?”

“Now when you say it like that…” you mused. “I told you that you do not have to worry about your behavior, I do not know any of the rules you have to abide by.”

“That’s not why I’m nervous,” Jacaerys said with a small laugh and you creased your forehead, looking at him questioningly.

“Is that not what you told me at supper?”

Jacaerys sighed, a chuckle leaving his lips and he had no other choice than to confess.

“You make me nervous because I do not know how to act around you. You make me stutter, lose my footing. I was never anything less than charming when it comes to talking to ladies, but you for some reason…”

Your face contorted from confusion to understanding and then glee.

“And I was starting to think you were letting me down easy.”

“I- what?” The indignation in Jacaerys’ tone made you laugh. “Let you down? Surely you must be jesting.”

“What was I to think? I was not exactly being subtle, my prince.”

Jacaerys bit down on his lower lip, nearly hard enough to draw blood, but he eased off.

“I’m trying my best to uphold my honor. And yours.”

You let out a small laugh, lifting your hand to deftly unhook your cloak. Jacaerys averted his eyes as soon as the cloak slid off your shoulders, but he could see out of the corner of his eyes that you were wearing nothing but a nightgown with long lacey sleeves. Jacaerys had never seen a nightgown like that before.

“Would it not be dishonorable to deny yourself what you truly want?”

Jacaerys dared to glance at you, swallowing thickly when he realized that you had come closer, his eyes roaming over your exposed skin. He exhaled sharply, feeling his cock stirring in his breeches, thankful that his tunic was untucked, covering his excitement.

“What if your future husband would cast you aside knowing you have laid with another man?”

You smiled at him, your hand reaching out to trace the neckline of his tunic.

“I think if my husband were to cast me aside for enjoying the pleasure of sex, he is not the right man for me.”

Jacaerys held his breath as you looked at him through your lashes. He managed to stay strong for about three more seconds, before he let out a frustrated groan, his hand curling around to pull you close, pressing his lips on yours.

You sighed softly into the kiss, your mouth pliable as Jacaerys moved against them, the kiss nearly driving him insane.

He needed more.

Tightening his grip on your waist, Jacaerys pulled you into his lap, situating your legs on either side of him.

“I have been going insane,” Jacaerys whispered against your lips, his finger tips dancing up your arm. “Trying to keep my composure, act like a prince, but one look from you and I lost the ability to string a sentence together.”

“Please,” you gasped as his hand wrapped around the back of your head to tilt it back, placing featherlight kisses on the column of your neck.” Cregan was telling me to behave - for once - because his great friend, the crown prince of the Seven Realms was to attend his nameday celebrations, but how could I when you’re just so-”

Your sentence trailed off in a sigh and Jacaerys pulled back to look at you, an eyebrow arched.

“I am so...?”

“Infuriatingly handsome.” Your voice was breathless as you spoke, hands slipping under his tunic and Jacaerys lifted his arms to help you take it off before you discarded it to the floor carelessly. “Like you were carved out of marble.”

You caressed him with your fingertips over his chest, your touch so tantalizing he had to shift his hips to ease the pressure on his breeches, a motion that did not go unignored by you at the sound of the small whimper that left your mouth, a sound that went directly to his south. He leaned in to kiss you again, before maneuvering you off his lap, standing so he could lead you over to the bed. His touch was gentle, but firm as you followed his lead to lay down at the edge of the bed, your nightgown bunching up at your calves.

“You don’t even know the affect you have on me… You had me on my knees,” he murmured, pushing your gown up. “I’m the crown prince of the seven realms. I don’t kneel for anyone.”

He might make an exception for you.

With his hands on your calves, pulling you closer, Jacaerys got to his knees, peppering small kisses on your inner thigh, making you squirm. He could smell the warmth of your musk as he neared your cunt, your smallclothes displaying a small patch of wetness he couldn’t help but be thrilled by.

“Lift your hips,” Jacaerys said, and when you did, he tugged your smallclothes off easily. He let out a soft breath when coming face to face with your cunt, sliding one finger through your folds. The moan out of your mouth sounded like heaven to him.

“Jace…” you sighed and his breeches got impossibly tighter, but he wanted you to finish first before he could even think about himself. Jacaerys applied a little pressure on your pearl with his thumb, inching closer, his breath hot on your lips before he licked a strip up your cunt. You responded with a small groan, your hands tangled into his locks and he knew he was on the right track.

He kept drawing circles on the small nub over your cunt, his tongue exploring between your folds, trying to elicit every moan and sigh out of your mouth possible, repeating his motions that seemed to please you the most. Soon, Jacaerys had you writhing on his bed, your hand tightened around his hair in a grip that nearly hurt, but he didn’t care.

“Jacaerys…” you breathed out, your hips lifting from the bed; he merely pushed it down with his free hand. “Don’t- I’m so..”

Jacaerys nuzzled his mouth even further into your cunt he not thought possible, the circles he was drawing onto your pearl becoming tighter, smaller until you let out an especially loud moan of his name, your cunt pulsating.

With a breath heave, you fell back into the cushions and Jacaerys pulled back from between your legs, not without leaving a lingering kiss on your inner thigh. You looked absolutely marvelous, blissed out on his bed, your sweaty hair sticking to your forehead. If he had to guess, he must not look any better, his entire face must be covered in you.

“Is this behavior befit for a crown prince?” you asked, chest still heaving. Jacaerys quirked a smile at you, brushing his hair back.

“For a lady like you, without question.”

A small laughter escaped your lips, and you tugged him down to kiss him, your hands slipping beneath his trousers and then his breeches, wrapping around his cock. Jacaerys hissed, bucking into your hands, realizing he was still fully clothes from the waist down. Giving you one last kiss, he reluctantly pulled away from you, taking his boots off, and then slowly pushing his trousers off, his smallclothes along with it.

He couldn’t help but flush as he stood in front of your inquisitive eyes, still wearing your nightgown but looking incredibly debauched, your gaze… Hungry. He got on the bed, crawling towards you on his knees, fingers gingerly pushing your nightgown off your shoulders - you didn’t lift a hand to help him, but merely watched as his eyes grew wide when he finally pushed your nightgown down, as it pooled around your waist.

“You were made by the gods,” he mumbled into your skin, mouth latching on the sensitive skin of your tits, his other hand gently rolling your nipples until it formed into a stiff peak. He leaned up, kissing you deeply and as he moaned into your mouth, he pulled away, breathing hard.

“Do you…” he trailed off, unsure how to word it.

“I will die an immediate death if I don’t,” you said, extremely serious. “Lay back.”

As Jacaerys settled into the mountain of cushions, you knelt in front of him, nightgown long gone. You positioned yourself over his lap, just as he had earlier, hand wrapping around his cock to guide it to your cunt, which was still sopping wet. Jacaerys let out a slow, guttural groan as you lowered yourself onto his cock, until he was fully sheated inside of you.

“Are you feeling alright?” he pressed out, his hands finding your hips to pull out incase you were feeling uncomfortable.

“Perfect,” you breathed, lips parted and eyes hooded. You leaned a hand on his chest, impulsively rolling your hips and Jacaerys moaned, throwing his head back. Slowly, the two of you found your rhythm as you rode him, in slow, but deep hip thrusts. His chambers was filled with the sound of skin hitting skin, whispers of his name and moans of yours. It wasn’t long until Jacaerys felt the familiar tension in his lower stomach, knowing he was close, while you were still moving on top of him, head thrown back.

If he had it his way, he would shoot his load into you, making you his, but the last thing he wanted was to trap you, so he stilled your hips, holding you in place and turning you so he was on top of you. Your hair fanned out on the bed, and Jacaerys kissed you, tongue licking into your mouth as he drove his cock into you with deep, but slow thrusts; his thumb was pressing into your pearl simultaneously.

“Jace,” you whined, your walls clenching and he nearly lost it right then and there. “Please…”

Jacaerys snapped his hips into you harder, leaning his head against yours as he did and after one particular deep thrust, you held onto his bicep as you moaned his name in a way that would ingrain into his brain for the rest of his life and he quickly pulled out, before he emptied his load in thick, white spurts onto your stomach. With a small groan, Jacaerys collapsed onto the bed next to you, neither speaking for a few seconds, catching your breath.

Jacaerys was the first to rise, pushing his hair back, standing to find a wet rag to clean you up. His touch was gentle as he cleaned your stomach, disposing of the dirty rag, lingering on the side of the bed.

“Do you want to stay? For a little while, at least?”

You turned your head to look at him, corners of your mouth tugging up. “If you’ll have me, my prince.”

Jacaerys snorted out a laughter, settling into bed next to you, making sure to pull up the blanket to cover your naked body, even though a warmth was emanating from you, it was rivaling his own.

“Are you sure you’re not a distant kin of Aegon the Conqueror?” he asked, pressing a soft kiss on your shoulder. “You would fit right into our house.”

“I find it very flattering that you think I have royal blood in me,” you laughed as your fingertips traced along his arm.

“It is only a question,” Jacaerys mused. “I think you would get along well with my mother.”

“A foreign girl in front of the esteemed queen of the Seven Realms? I wouldn’t stand a chance. Her royal knights would behead me as soon as I curtsied the wrong way.”

And as the fire crackled in the far corner of the chambers, pressed against your side, Jacaerys knew that while you spoke in jest, he wouldn’t mind you meeting his mother, even if that was highly unlikely. Coming the following morning it seemed like he would never see you again, with you returning home and him returning to King’s Landing.

And while he was a dragon rider, he wasn’t sure if that distance would be easy for him to cover, considering the fact he had duties he had to attend to, he couldn't just leave whenever he pleased, no matter how much he wanted to.

“I really enjoyed your company,” you then said, your voice a bittersweet tone. Jacaerys pressed his nose against your neck, biting back the question if you wanted to come with him, see King’s Landing. He knew he was being foolish.

“As did I yours.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author's note: hehehehehe did u like it?

#jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys targaryen #jacaerys x reader #prince jacaerys #jacaerys x you #jacaerys smut #hotd #house of the dragon #jace x reader #jace x you #jacaerys velaryon fanfiction #jacaerys velaryon fanfic #jacaerys velaryon imagine #jacaerys velaryon fic

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vividxpages · 5 months ago

Text

౨ৎ˚⟡.⭒˚no parents, big house⭒˚⟡˚౨ৎ

pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!Reader

words: 4400

summary: with his family out of the house for one night, Jacaerys and you decide to make the most of it.

warnings: modern au, established relationship, domestic fluff, wine drinking, they’re both just really in love with each other, smut (making out, dry humping)

a/n: This is my first time writing smut for Jacaerys, I hope you like it, let’s get through this big hiatus and be good to each other! <3

-⋆ ˚｡⋆୨🤍🍕💋୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

When you rang the doorbell of the Targaryen-Strong household, you could already hear screeching coming from behind the door.

Smiling to yourself, you shifted on your feet, the staple of pizza cartons in your hand warm on your palm. A bag hung over your shoulder and excited shivers ran through you at the prospect of spending the entire night over at Jace’s place.

Your boyfriend’s mother and her husband had decided to go out tonight, a rather rare occurrence with multiple boys under their roof and Jace and you had decided to make the most of it. Privacy often was an unknown word here and to both Jace’s and your embarrassment, the two had been caught making out on his bed (in various states of undressing) by his siblings enough times already.

Tonight though, there had been a compromise.

Jace was allowed to spend the night with you, but only if Lucerys took the others to see a movie tonight and the brothers were in charge of making dinner for everyone beforehand. Jacaerys had agreed in a heartbeat and butterflies had taken wing in your stomach when he texted you the plan later, accompanied by three red hearts.

Although Jace was a decent cook – you could confirm this, talking from experience – the pizza had been your idea. And if Jace’s brothers did not love you enough already, the door opened and you and the stacks of pizza were greeted with shouting and frantic hugs before these whirlwinds of dark curly hair disappeared down the hallway in excited chatter and you stood face to face with your boyfriend.

“Hi.” You smiled brightly as he quickly took your important delivery from you.

“Hi.” He breathed, a faint blush coloring his cheeks as always when you two shared a moment. He was wearing his favorite pair of gray joggers and a white shirt, his hair adorably put back in a bun that had you staring at him, utterly in love and anticipating your stay in his home tonight.

Behind his back, a sudden scream could be heard and a pillow flew through the air. You grimaced at the chaos seemingly going on in the living room and your boyfriend’s nostrils flared in annoyance as he threw a stern look over his shoulder.

“I swear they were behaving before; I think we had too many sugar cookies earlier.” He sighed, stepping aside to let you in, his hands subconsciously finding your waist on its own. You leaned up and pressed a small kiss to his cheek, inhaling the delicious smell of his cologne.

“Don’t worry, I’m not your mom.” You joked. You two quickly closed the door, not wanting the neighbors to suspect someone was getting murdered in here.

He chuckled. “Lucky me then.” Into the vague direction of the living room down the hall, he ordered: “Guys, be quiet or we’re going to eat all this pizza by ourselves and I tell mom you’ve terrorized me and Luke all evening.”

This threat brought silence to the house and you snorted.

“Always works.” He told you before grabbing your hand and leading you to the massive living room, big panorama windows offering a look into the garden of the property. Luke was waving at you from the kitchen, his smile still a little sour since he had to take care of their smaller brothers for tonight, as he prepared plates for everyone.

The twins, now relatively calm and obedient, sat side by side on the couch, smiling brightly at you. You dropped your bag by the staircase, kneeling in front of them and ruffling their light hair. “Hey, you two. Jace told me you’re watching a movie tonight?”

Jacaerys adoringly smiled at you as you talked to his baby brothers, his heart melting as always when he could see how well you were getting along with his family. You had been over enough times to earn yourself a permanent spot in the hearts of all his family members and it fulfilled him deeply to know you were his and you belonged with them just as you belonged with him.

Soon, his family was going to go on vacation and last week, his mother had told him she would be delighted to have you there with them as well. He could’ve cried with happiness and the two of you certainly had celebrated, in your own way.

But tonight, he couldn’t wait to play house with you, only for a little while until you were going to move in with each other one day.

“Thank you for the pizza.” Luke mumbled through his bites and you waved it off, leaning into Jace’s side as the group all settled down on the big couch in the middle of the room. You tugged your legs underneath you and sighed happily as you bit into your first piece, one of Jace’s hands that wasn’t occupied with his own slice resting on your naked thigh.

It had been hot outside tonight and you were still wearing shorts. While you listened to the twins’ stories and chatted with Luke, Jace began to slowly circle his thumb on your knee, the gesture as delicate as the brush of a feather. But it was enough to make you falter, all your nerves seeming to travel down to the small patch of skin being touched by him.

It was enough to distract you and yet, it wasn’t nearly enough.

But this sweet torture of his and inevitably, you giving in to it, had to wait for now.

“Want a slice of mine?” You asked him sweetly, offering him a piece of your pizza covered with cherry tomatoes, arugula and hearty cheese. He nodded, leaning forward and letting himself be fed by you. When you wiped a little blob of sauce from the corner of his lips, Luke had enough.

“Can’t you use your own hands, Jace?” He teased, a knowing grin on his mischievous face.

“Aren’t you supposed to leave to see the movie soon?” Jace shot back, unbothered and unashamed as you laughed and licked your finger clean, causing Joffrey to watch the two of you with a disgusted face. Once, when he still had been a little smaller, he had compared the two of you to his own parents because of the way you always gravitated towards each other, always touching when you could, but you couldn’t be sure he wasn’t regretting this comparison now.

Luke looked to the clock on the wall, startling. “Oh shit, we’re going to be late.”

“Oh shit.” The twins echoed and the two older brothers shared a look.

“If anyone asks, I’ll tell them you taught them this.” Jace declared nonchalantly and Luke groaned, taking his plate to the kitchen and telling everyone wanting to see Paw Patrol tonight to hurry up.

You chuckled, kissing Jace’s bony shoulder and standing up as well, taking his plate from him.

“No, no, I’m not letting you wash our dishes, you’re my guest tonight.” He protested and took them to the sink himself. You once again shivered at his words, the prospect of having the whole house to yourselves for a few hours more than enough to spark your wildest fantasies of him…

There was some hustling and bustling going on in the hallway as Jace and you worked together by the sink - a compromise because you always wanted to help - before Joffrey shouted a quick goodbye to you.

“Do you guys want ice cream?” Luke asked his brothers on their way out and Jace groaned, quickly shouting after them: “Don’t give them more sugar!” The door fell shut behind them and soon, you heard the engine of Jace’s car start.

“Don’t worry too much about them.” You told him softly, seeing the way Jace bit on his bottom lip, a common sign that he was overthinking. “They’ll be fine.”

“I know…” He took one of the plates you held up and dunked them into the full sink. “I’m very happy you’re here tonight. I was thinking about it all day.”

“Me too.” You whispered, suddenly short of breath.

It wasn’t the first time you were sleeping over, but with a house full of people, indulging intimacy with your boyfriend was…difficult. Dinners were spent by the big table with his family and once you retreated into his room upstairs – sometimes after roasting marshmallows over the fire pit outside or playing board games with his competitive parents – the two of you were mostly too tired to stay up any longer. Jace shared a bathroom with Luke, so taking advantage of the luxurious big shower was too risky, and the walls were not as thick as you would’ve guessed for such a big mansion.

So, most of these nights ended cuddled together in his bed, sated and happy and tired, sleepily kissing each other in the darkness until you either fell asleep together or Jace would sneak his warm hands underneath his sleeping shirt on you, ghosting over your body until you’d eventually let out a needy whimper he had to cut off with a kiss or his hand. How often had you come around his skilled fingers, silencing your little moans and gasps in the crook of his neck or breathing them into his mouth? And how often had he softly bitten your neck or shoulder to stifle his moans while you sweetly jerked him to completion, giggling to yourself when he had to stagger out of bed shortly afterwards to find a tissue for your sticky hand?

“Is there something you’d like to do?” Jace asked you, ever so eager to make sure you were the most comfortable you could be. You thought of the sun chairs outside on the terrace and how lovely it was the stargaze together or the pool, its crystal-clear waters flickering seducingly. You thought of the shower, your gaze flickering down to Jace’s subtle but strong muscles, subconsciously licking your lips.

But you also had not seen him all week and you desperately wanted to relish the quietness of his home with him before everyone else came back later tonight.

You shrugged, a shy smile tugging at your lips. “I just like to be with you. Maybe we can finish up here and watch a movie and cuddle?”

Jace wanted to melt at your innocent suggestion. “Sounds perfect to me. I’ll dry the plates; you grab us two glasses? Dad brought a fancy wine yesterday.”

You found the bottle in question quickly, your eyes widening at the fancy label around it. “I’m not sure if this is meant for us, Jacey. This is expensive-expensive.”

Jacaerys threw the towel over his shoulder, lacing your fingers together and pulling you to him. You had listened to the radio as you worked and an old school love song was echoing through the kitchen now, your boyfriend goofily swaying to the beat and wrapping his arms around you. “I’ll buy a new one first thing tomorrow. We can act like we’re adults tonight.”

“Jace, we are adults.” You laughed as he twirled you, your arms wrapping around his neck and fingers playing with the stray curls in his nape. You sloppily swayed to the beat, lost in each other’s eyes and smiles and you knew you were not ever going to love anyone else the way you loved Jacaerys. There wasn’t space for anyone else, because you were sure your whole heart only consisted of him.

Eventually, you filled – and emptied - those wine glasses and danced through the kitchen, your laughter echoing through the house, making it your home for the night. You exchanged some giddy kisses and his lips tasted like heavy wine and when you pulled back, his dark eyes laid hazily on you.

Your gaze flickered down to his mouth once more, the wine in your system making it hard to think.

After a moment, he swallowed hard and tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear.

Neither of you had any idea how you managed to stick to the movie, but a little later, you found yourself on the couch, one leg thrown over Jace’s, your head safely nestled in the crook of his neck. Jace had dimmed down the lights of the living room and prepared a bowl of snacks for the two of you while you had changed into something more comfortable.

Now, it had gotten dark outside and the black void of the garden rested to your left while Jace rested his chin on your head, absently picking up some popcorn from time to time as you watched the movie. Earlier, you almost could’ve not hidden the mischievous grin on your face as you quickly snuck under the blankets on the couch, Jace’s back still turned to you. You had picked one of his soft shirts to wear and underneath it, which he had not noticed yet, you were only wearing panties. The lacy, soft pink ones he loved oh so very much.

Jace had returned to caress you mindlessly, his fingers wandering up and down your naked leg and the steady motion made your eyelids drop from time to time, a small yawn escaping you as you nuzzled your face in his neck.

Jace squirmed, not entirely unpleasant. “Hey…’m ticklish.”

“Sorry.” You breathed back, one of your hands finding a good spot on his toned stomach, the fabric separating your palm from his warm skin almost too much to bear. Like this, it went on for a while, both of you focusing less and less on the movie on the big flatscreen and more and more on the little touches you gifted to each other. Wanting, unspoken questions, disguised by innocent affections.

A while ago, he had turned a little, one of his clothed legs having found the perfect spot between your thighs, still held back by the fluffy blanket draped over you. But you were slowly having enough of useless fabrics between the two of you and Jace’s lean leg between you wasn’t exactly helping to ease the growing pull in your stomach.

You shuffled even closer and Jace tore his dark eyes away from the screen to look deeply into yours, his plush lips slightly agape as he watched you grind your hips forward, your hand drifting beneath his shirt to ghost over his skin. You felt the muscles in his stomach tense underneath your touch, his breath ghosting over your lips and when he finally dared to capture your mouth with his, you let out a relieved sigh.

Forgotten was the movie that had not interested you from the start as Jace blindly grabbed the bowl of snacks and moved it out the way. His hand drifted over your thigh as he delicately cupped your cheek, making your blood tingle underneath his soft touch, and finally snuck underneath the blanket.

You grinned against his lips, tilting your head to give him more access as a shaky sigh escaped him, his fingers trying to feel where the seam of your shorts began. Instead, his fingertips brushed over silk and lace and his mind short-circuited.

He pulled back, lashes fluttering against his cheeks as he looked at you through them. Both of you were breathing hard, with flushed cheeks and arousal coursing through your veins. He looked at you like you were a miracle, not believing how he managed to end up with such a lovely creature. You pushed your thighs together as he slowly licked his lip, feeling already that your precious panties were going to be soaked very soon. And to think that he had not even gotten started…

“Jace…” You whispered, almost a whine as his thumb brushed over the lacy material, his pupils blown wide as he leaned forward and kissed your neck. You threw your head back, whimpering as his teeth dragged over a sensitive spot. “Please.”

He peeled away the blanket, letting it fall to the floor and looked down, your shirt messily pushed upward to reveal your tummy and the soft pink panties. You swore you could see the dragon in him, his family symbol just lingering underneath the surface. His knee was still resting between your thighs, not yet giving you what you craved so much. Your mouth watered as his darkened gaze landed on you again, his thumb brushing over your wet bottom lip. He whispered, his hoarse voice sending goosebumps through you; “You’re the most beautiful girl…god, you’re driving me insane with how much I want you.”

You exhaled shakily. “You got me.” You nodded, trusting him with your whole being. You both had known how this night would’ve ended and yet, you could never prepare yourself for the intensity of your feelings for Jace. Your hand freed his hair from the scrunchie tied to it and you brushed through his soft curls.

“I love you.” Jace murmured and attached his lips to your neck once more, finally having some mercy on you as he pushed his knee forward and making you cry out. The rough fabric of his joggers pressed against your thin, wet panties, the delicious pressure making you weak in the knees. You threw your head back, your arms naturally resting around his neck as you pushed your chests together, sinking into the pillows behind you in bliss.

Jacaerys paced the rhythm, slowly grinding against you with his thigh, feeling your legs quiver as little lightning shot through your core with each of his motions. Cuddling with him for so long had heightened all your senses, making it hard to concentrate as you pushed your hips forward, riding his thigh as he peppered kisses against your skin, drawing aside the shirt from your shoulder so he could leave a loving mark there, too.

With a particular enthusiastic buck forward, you made him hiss, your little whines and whimpers having made him rock-hard and straining against his own pants. You placed two fingers underneath his chin, drawing him up into a desperate and messy kiss and his hands on your waist tightened their hold.

“C’mere, baby.” He murmured into your mouth, his thigh still rubbing against your most sensitive part. “In my lap, up you go.”

You let yourself be hoisted up until your knees were placed on either side of his slim hips and you gasped into his mouth, your core now deliciously pressed against his length. He placed his shaking hand into your hair and your hands found purchase on his chest, helping him to take it off and throw it somewhere else.

You giggled, head spinning with pleasure as you were juggled around in his lap by him wriggling out of these damn joggers off, your laugh suddenly cut off when he bucked his hips up into yours, the outline of his dick fitting perfectly against you.

“Can I take this off?” Jace asked you breathless, playing with the hem of your shirt and you pecked his lips encouragingly.

“Yes, please.” You could feel his heart beating fast underneath your palm. “I might go insane if you don’t.” You bit your lip and Jace groaned, quickly nodding as he lifted your shirt over your heart and tugging you close against him so you wouldn’t be cold at first.

“Anything you want.” He mumbled, eyes glazed over with love as he looked at you, his fingers ghosting along the underside of your chest, his thumb soothingly touching one of your nipples. “God, you’re incredible. I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” You smiled and then, you did not talk anymore, driven by the growing need for each other now. You started to grind your hips forward again, hissing at how amazing the friction felt for now, the little gasp Jacaerys let out only encouraging you to continue like this.

His hands seemed to be everywhere at once as if he couldn’t decide if he wanted to brush your hair back, caress your chest or guide your hips with them. You felt the mixture of the wine from earlier and the warmth in your core get to your head, the room around you spinning as you found another fantastic angle which made his clothed dick rub over your wet clit just right.

You let out a long-drawn moan, doubling your effort and leaning close to Jace so he could hear every little sound he lured from deep within your body. And in return, he made sure you heard him, his gasps soon turning into the sweet whines you loved so much. There was a wet patch on his briefs as you looked down and you had been a mess anyway and none of it mattered the slightest if he only continued to move you around in his lap like he did now.

“’m close…” You told him, brows scrunched together and eyes closed in pleasure as you rubbed yourself against him. Jace was watching your every movement, fascinated how someone as delicate and sweet as you could really belong to him, peppering kisses on your exposed chest and tugging you forward hard, back and forth on his dick, again and again, a thousand nerves in both your bodies alight.

“So perfect for me, so sweet…” He mumbled and your core clenched around nothing at his sugary affirmations. He kissed your cheek, your neck, over and over again, feeling as your grasp on control continued to slip. “Wanna see you come, my love, fuck- I love you so much…”

“Love you.” You whimpered, mouth a little o-shape, sweat on your forehead and Jace could not help himself, he needed to feel you.

His hand disappeared in your panties, one of his fingers finding your achingly hot clit as the other gathered up your wetness. You keened loudly, doubling over in sweet and utter defeat, immediately caught by his arms and held against his chest. You could’ve sobbed with pleasure as he rubbed one, two, three circles on your clit and then you exploded into a million stars, shattering into stardust right in his safe embrace.

Your orgasm tore through you like a crashing wave and Jace held you through it, throwing his head back against the couch’s backrest, groaning deeply from his chest as he felt himself spill into his underwear, the friction and your sweet sounds too much for his system. You still rode him and his soaked fingers, chasing the high he had gifted you, his fingers continuing to guide you through it all, only slowing their efforts when he felt you twitch with little aftershocks and overstimulation.

Your body slumped against his, breathing heavy and hot as you let out a satisfied smile.

He kissed your temple, hugging you close and closing his eyes as your heart beats slowly calmed down again until they were almost beating as one. You let yourself be held by him, tiredly drawing little hearts on his chest and smiling happily as he kissed your cheek.

“Feeling good?” He asked quietly and brushed back your sweaty hair.

You lifted your head, nodding timidly as you kissed his freckled nose. “Amazing. And you?”

“Perfect.” He smiled blissfully and when you shifted to get more comfortable, both of you grimaced at the sticky feeling. “We made quite a mess, huh?”

Your eyes widened and you hid your face in his neck. “Oh god, do you think anyone will notice?” Suddenly you could not believe you both had let this get so far, in the living room of his family as well-

“Nah, everyone won’t be home for another couple of hours and we can air out the room through the terrace doors.” His eyes sparkled as they looked you over, tucked against him, perfect in every way. “We’ll clean up here and go up to my room to clean you up, okay? Does that sound good?”

“And we’ll cuddle?” You wanted to know, a safe and sacred part of your soul only coming to show itself when Jacaerys was taking care of you like this. To know he knew what you needed and to simply let yourself be led by him made your mind blissfully empty yet full of love and adoration for your boyfriend.

“Yes, love, of course we’ll cuddle.” He pecked your cheek and helped you stand up. (But then again, this whole thing had started out by simply cuddling too, didn’t it?) When you lifted your arms obediently, he slid his shirt back on you and collected his own from the floor, arranging the pillows neatly and folding the blanket like nothing inappropriate had ever happened here.

You laughed as you tried to walk on wobbly legs, only to be scooped up by Jace before you could even reach the staircase. “I think we ruined your favorite underwear.” You whispered into his ear and he blushed madly.

“You can wear one of my boxer shorts if you want.” He offered and you nodded quickly, always a little thief when it came to his clothing. He carried you upstairs, mindful so your legs wouldn’t bump into anything, and gently set you down on his bed once you reached it, kissing your forehead one more time before he rummaged through his closet and found you something to sleep in.

It was ridiculous how happy you felt, how unbelievably in love you were with Jacaerys Targaryen-Strong. You watched him with soft eyes, nearly melting when he cleaned you up with a warm washcloth first, then helped you dress and slid into his twin size bed with you in his arms.

You kissed his smooth jaw, getting comfortable in the familiar safety surrounding you. His fingers were stroking up and down your spine in an easy rhythm.

“I think I’m going to give your brothers gift cards for the cinema for their birthdays.” You mumbled sleepily against him and he laughed, the sound like bells in your ears.

With it, you drifted off into a wonderful, dreamless sleep and he followed you soon after…

When Rhaenyra came back later that night, finding her sons passed out in their beds, she couldn’t help but peek into her oldest’s room, finding the two of you sleeping peacefully and entwined with each other.

In the morning over breakfast, she kept it to herself that the TV had still been running and you two had left the terrace door open…

𓆩♡𓆪

taglist: @earth4angels @princessvelaryon

If you would like to be tagged for Part 2, let me know with a comment <3

#jace velaryon #jace targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys targaryen #jace velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys targaryen x reader #jace targaryen x reader #hotd imagine #hotd

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brokenmenswhore · 5 months ago

Note

Would you plssss write something about dom Jace but also dom reader?? Even if she’s one of slocents daughters and comes to dragon stone as she believes Rhanerya to be the true queen so she’s being held prisoner atm while they decide her fate. Her and Jace have always had a thing for eachother but he’s so angry about being left in the dark and he takes it out on her (respectfully). Like they have that hot intense sex ??? Maybe they’re arguing before so it’s a bit of enemies to lovers?? I just need some rougher sex with Jace!! He was looking too good this season and the way he was quite sassy and strong willed was so fucking hot

this is so hot?????? girl i don’t get nearly enough jace requests

loyal | jacaerys velaryon

pairing: jacaerys velaryon x fem!reader

warnings: dacryphilia, smut (MDNI 18+), rough sex, reader consents but some moments may appear as noncon/dubcon

────── ☾ ──────

It started when you were children. Your brothers, Aegon and Aemond, often teased Jacaerys and Lucerys for their dark hair. In return, Lucerys tormented Aemond about the eye he had cost him. There was always tension, and always an unspoken competition of which line was the legitimate succession to the Iron Throne.

Your sister, Heleana, stayed out of the fighting. You oftentimes tried to stick by her side, both desperate to avoid the fighting, as did Jacaerys. Despite the hostility between your family members, you and Jacaerys always tried to get along.

As he grew up, he began to come into his own, but was still very much second to his mother. He became more and more handsome as he aged. You were nearly the same age, so you had the privilege of watching him grow, and he had the same for you.

Your mother vied for your brother, Aegon, to succeed your father, Viserys I. Rhaenyra, Jace’s mother and the daughter of Viserys, maintained her claim. When Viserys passed, your mother placed Aegon on the throne, and Rhaenyra took residence in Dragonstone with her children.

Your mother preached the importance of the family sticking together in support of Aegon, but in truth, you knew she was delusional. Viserys never faltered on his decision to have Rhaenyra succeed him, and Aegon was unfit to rule. Your mother had a subconscious belief that if she assisted in upholding the patriarchy, it would in turn reward her. You knew that so long as she was a woman, it wouldn’t.

Rhaenyra, however, was Viserys’s first born and the rightful heir to the throne. She was level-headed and peaceful, like her father, and you knew in your heart that she was the true queen.

So you left King’s Landing.

There was nothing for you there. You seldom got along with your family, and even Heleana was preoccupied with Aegon and their children. The only member of your family you truly cared for was Jacaerys. You wanted to be on the right side of history, and that meant standing behind Rhaenyra in this baseless war.

Jacaerys, however, remained perpetually angry with you. He expected you to make your allegiance to Rhaenyra known the moment Aegon was put on the throne. He assumed you stood with Aegon when you didn’t, and thought you were therefore against him and his mother, and he was hurt and angered by that belief.

In the earliest hours of the morning, you mounted your dragon, departing your childhood home before your mother could awaken and attempt to stop you.

You arrived in Dragonstone shortly after, and were met with members of the King’s Guard, led by Daemon, as you arrived.

“Bold move, arriving on dragonback unannounced,” Daemon spoke as you jumped off the saddle, “I could have killed you and your dragon before anyone else caught sight of you.”

“Ah, but you didn’t, Uncle,” you responded, pushing your wind-swept hair out of your face.

“What are you doing here?” he cut to the point.

“I am not here as a threat,” you started, “I am here in support of your wife and her cause.”

“And I am to simply believe you?”

“I would expect nothing but suspicion from the likes of you,” you said, an amused smile on your face, “but I do not lie, Uncle. I want no part of the claims my mother or my brother make. Why else would I have come here so suddenly?”

Daemon sighed and inspected your face for a moment, deciding whether or not he trusted you. He always suspected the worst, and thought it better to be safe than sorry. He tilted his head toward the men of the guard, shouting, “keep her in the dungeons for now. Your Queen can decide her fate.”

“Daemon-“ you began to protest, but you were being dragged away within moments. You called back, “you cannot honestly hold me prisoner as punishment for my lineage?”

Daemon called back, “yes I can, niece. I do not trust you yet.”

────── ☾ ──────

The Black Council gathered at the usual time, everyone taking their typical seats, Jacaerys remaining standing opposite his mother across the table.

They began to discuss matters of politics and war, when Daemon chimed in, “We also must discuss the matter of my niece.”

Jacaerys furrowed his brows in confusion.

“She did come here of her own volition, to her credit,” Rhaenyra said, “but you are right, we cannot be sure we can trust her.”

This discussion had clearly started previously, and without Jacaerys present.

Daemon adjusted in his chair, getting comfortable. “I had the guards take her to the dungeons for the time being, but Y/N can be very stubborn, and will not accept staying in there long. We must act quickly if this is disingenuous. It may be an infiltration from the Greens.”

“Yes, well, now that she is already here, we-“

“What do you mean Y/N is here?” Jacaerys nearly spit out, pressing his palms to the table in front of him, leaning toward Daemon, who was nonchalantly sat in his usual council seat.

“She arrived yesterday morn,” Daemon spoke casually, not confused by Jacaerys’s frustration, but simply not caring about it, “your mother was out.”

Rhaenyra began to respond, “I must speak to her before taking any action, to determine if her loyalties truly lie with-“

“She has been here for nearly two whole days and I was not informed?” Jacaerys cut her off.

Daemon lifted his head, “why would you need to be informed, Jacaerys?”

Jacaerys let out a huff of frustration. “I am as much a part of this council as you.” He was also frustrated because it was you, and he wished he knew the moment you arrived, but he could not let Daemon know that.

“I am the King Consort, you forget yourself. I have no obligations to brief you on matters that I do not see fit.”

Jacaerys slammed hit hands on the table. “I am the heir to the Iron Throne, Daemon. I expect to be treated as if all matters that pertain to my mother, pertain to me as well, because they do.”

“Jacaerys-“ Rhaenyra tried to catch his attention, but instead he diverted his frustrations to her.

“And where were you? She has been kept prisoner for nearly two days due to your absence.”

“Mind your tongue,” Daemon warned.

Rhaenyra’s eyes remained focused on Jacaerys. “I had other matters to attend to.”

“And yet again you leave me in the dark, as you both did regarding Y/N.”

“It is never my intent to insult you, Jace,” Rhaenyra said.

Jacaerys pushed himself off of the table, pacing back and forth for a moment. “Let me speak to her.”

“Who, Y/N?” Daemon asked, laughing at the thought.

“Let me handle it,” Jacaerys pleaded, ignoring Daemon as he looked to his mother for approval. His voice and posture were confident, but his eyes were desperate. All he wanted was to be involved.

“Fine,” Rhaenyra waved a hand, “you may handle it, but only because she is most likely to be truthful with you out of all of us.”

Jacaerys stood up straight, taking a deep breath and resetting his confidence. He gave his mother a nod, turning around and retreating toward the dungeons, a guard in tow.

When he arrived in front of your cell, you turned around to face him, almost shocked by the sight of him. He had grown exponentially since you last saw him, and his dark hair was now long and curly, framing his face perfectly.

“Unlock it,” Jacaerys commanded the guard, who unlocked and cracked open the door to your cell.

Jacaerys stepped into the cell, hands over the hilt of his sword as he faced you. “Now leave us.”

The guard coughed, “My Prince, I-“

“I said leave us,” he said again, his voice heavier and more demanding the second time around.

The guard stepped away, nervously dropping the key to the cell door on the ground before he quickly retreated up the steps, leaving you alone with Jacaerys.

Jacaerys was clearly frustrated, and it had been a long time since you’d seen one another. You were unsure of what to say.

“What are you doing here?” Jacaerys said, his nostrils flaring as he focused on standing tall.

“As I told my brother, I am here to support you and your family,” you stated.

“Why am I to believe you?” Jacaerys questioned, “why come now? You did not think it important to decide where your loyalties lie when your mother forced a drunken usurper on the throne?”

You did not expect such hostility from him. You imagined what your meeting would be like, and this was not it. “I admit, I did not have the will to leave until recently.”

“And why is that?” he pressed. Was he mad at you? Was he hurt?

“I did not think myself strong enough, but I am growing rather tired of being weak.”

Jacaerys nodded a few times to himself, stepping closer to you. He went to open his mouth three times to speak, but could find no words to say each time.

You decided to break the silence, asking the question you thought stupid to ask, but you couldn’t help it. “You did not wish to see me until now?”

Jacaerys met your gaze for a moment before responding. “I was not aware you were here until mere minutes ago.”

You shifted your stance as you looked at him in confusion. “But I have been here for nearly two days.”

“My mother enjoys keeping me in the dark,” he explained, “I believe she assumes she is prioritizing my safety. Instead, she is simply underutilizing my talents.”

You sighed. “Do you perhaps trust me enough to let me take leave from this cell?”

“No.”

“But-“

Jace was frustrated by how long it took you to decide to back the Blacks, and was also no longer able to hold back his pent up frustration from his mother always leaving him in the dark and refusing to let him be proactive.

“You took forever, did you know that? This entire time, it’s been the same two sides. You are a big girl now, you’ve been more than capable of choosing a side,” he was nearly shouting now, “and instead you chose to stay with the Dowager Queen and her usurper son!”

“What did you expect of me?” you retorted, voice raised as well, “I left behind my life when I left King’s Landing! All to support what I believe is right! And yet you stand here to what, accuse me of being untruthful? Is that what you think of me, that I am simply here to act as an inconspicuous threat?”

Jacaerys stepped closer to you, his torso nearly hitting yours. He was seething in anger. “If you were truly on my side, you should have come here the second that crown touched Aegon’s head.”

“Who are you truly mad at Jace, hm? Are you truly upset with me, or are you upset your mommy won’t let you play Prince?” you snapped back, fed up with his attitude.

“How fucking dare you speak to me like that,” he spat, “if you truly accepted my mother as your queen, you would know to mind your tongue around the Crown Prince.”

“I will, when the Crown Prince is not being such a prick.”

Jacaerys inhaled a sharp breath, his face turning red from all the pent up anger and frustration he was eager to release. He was speechless, unable to think of a clever enough comeback.

“You’ve found your voice in my absence, haven’t you, Jace?” you asked, your faces mere inches from one another. Your voice was low, almost sultry, and your tone, combined with the close proximity of your bodies, was doing something to Jace.

He felt his cock twitch in his breeches, gazing down at you.

“You wanna prove to me your loyalty, is that it?” Jacaerys asked.

“Whatever it will take for you to believe me,” you responded.

“Bend the knee.”

“Alright” you agreed, “let me out of this cell, and once you take me to your mother I-“

“To me, Y/N. Bend the knee to me.”

You looked deep into his eyes. You could see he was frustrated, both generally and sexually. You two had always liked one another, and not seeing each other for much too long only enhanced the feelings, especially now that you were both grown up.

You never broke eye contact as you slowly sank down onto your knees, both hitting the floor gently as you gazed up at him, your head only a few inches from his most sensitive area.

The sight of you on your knees in front of him was awakening something carnal within him, and the feeling was mixing with his pent up rage, making for a dangerous combination.

“You know what to do,” he spoke.

You continued looking up at him through hooded eyes as you tugged at his breeches, but they wouldn’t move until he removed his sword from around his waist, which he did quickly and swiftly. Without any obstructions, you were able to pull down all the clothing that sat on his waist, freeing his cock.

“And if someone decides to check on the Crown Prince?” you asked, watching Jacaerys shudder as your hand gently wrapped around the base of his length.

Jacaerys braced himself by placing a hand on the wall next to him. “I dare them to try and stop me,” he said, gripping your hair in his hand, making a fist and positioning your head in front of his tip, “open.”

You opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out, and Jacaerys lightly growled as he pushed your face into him, your mouth enveloping his cock as the tip immediately hit the back of your throat, causing your gag reflex to act up for a brief moment.

Your hand remained on the base of his shaft, lightly stroking up and down as he continued to force your head as far as he could down his length, before allowing you to take over. He kept his fingers tangled in your hair, ready to keep you on him if you tried to leave, but he wanted to feel what you could do without his constant guidance.

You set a steady pace with your mouth, running your tongue over and around his tip every once in a while. You looked up at him, and the sight caused his cock to twitch in your mouth as he threw his head back in pleasure.

His lips parted as he involuntarily gasped and whined when you picked up the pace. You continued to look up at him, knowing it added to his arousal when he caught your gaze, his cock bumping your throat as you nearly choked around him.

“Fuck,” he whispered as he began to move your head again, shifting his hips slightly to fuck into your mouth. You tried to maintain your pace, but Jacaerys wasn’t having it. “Stay still,” he demanded.

You put your hands on your thighs, allowing him to take over as he began to fuck your mouth. He was snapping his hips the hardest he could in a standing position.

You began to let out small chokes and moans as he hit the back of your throat at a steady, yet fast rate. You tried to focus on breathing through your nose as you constricted your throat and held your jaw open for Jacaerys to use for his pleasure.

“You look so good on your knees for me,” he spoke through gritted teeth, pushing and pulling your head via your hair a final few times until you felt an unfamiliar, salty liquid hit the back of your throat.

You instinctively swallowed his seed. He held your jaw open as he pulled out of you, checking to ensure you swallowed everything, but you didn’t understand what he was doing.

He ruthlessly shoved two fingers into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue and forcing your mouth even more open. When he couldn’t see or feel any more of his seed in your mouth, he sighed, “good girl.”

“Proven myself enough?” you quipped, giggling slight after your statement to demonstrate that you meant it as lighthearted.

“Your mouth may be loyal to me,” Jacaerys said, “but that’s not the only part of you. Get up.”

You pushed yourself up until you were at his level again, and he immediately grabbed your shoulders, swinging you around and backing you up until the back of your legs hit the cell bench. You fell into a sit, and Jacaerys stood intimidatingly over you.

“Pull your dress up,” he instructed.

You began to bunch up the fabric of the dress Daemon had provided you, pulling it upward until it was at your waistline, and lifting your hips so you were no longer sitting on fabric. You jolted slightly when the flesh of your ass hit the cold bench, and Jacaerys watched in amusement.

Jacaerys tilted his head to the side as he ran a finger along the seam of your small clothes, hooking a finger under the band, pulling, and then snapping the band back onto your waist. “Off.”

You pulled them down your legs, dropping them to the floor below you. Jacaerys stared at your core for a moment before dropping to his knees in front of you, lifting both of your legs and adjusting them onto his shoulders.

Your breathing quickened, your chest rising and falling rapidly and he looked up at you, leaning closer and closer toward you. He stuck his tongue out, running it slowly between your folds, watching you sigh in pleasure at the feeling.

“Have you ever been tasted?” he asked, brimming with a confidence you’d never seen.

“No,” you admitted.

“Good girl,” he praised, “you really are loyal to me.”

He pressed his face to your core, his tongue swirling and circling around your clit as he sucked you, his hands holding onto your thighs for assistance with anchoring them to his shoulders.

Every so often he licked a strip from your hole to your clit, collecting all your wetness in an eager attempt to taste you.

You couldn’t help but watch him. It was so erotic, seeing the boy you’ve wanted like this for so long in between your legs, and looking the most handsome you’d ever seen him.

Your hand found the back of his head, holding him against you as his tongue teased your hole, slowly pushing in and curling upward against your spongy walls as you whimpered.

You completely involuntarily started to twirl strands of his hair around your pointer finger, playing with the unfamiliar length almost on instinct.

Jacaerys pulled away from you. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“S-sorry,” you stuttered, “couldn’t help it. I like it like this.”

“Yeah?” he responded.

“Mhm,” you vocalized, tugging lightly at the strands on the back of his head as he dove back into your cunt, his tongue inside of you at the same time he sucked your clit, the brand new feeling nearly overwhelming.

“Fuck, Jacaerys,” you moaned.

“Tell me you belong to me,” he commanded, watching your face as he continued to pleasure you with his mouth.

“I- I’m yours, Jace,” you breathed out, shaky, “a-always been y-yours.”

Your words made his cock begin to harden again, despite having already came.

Jacaerys moaned into your cunt, causing your walls to squeeze as your high approached.

“If you’re mine, then come for me.”

His words drove you over the edge, your orgasm hitting you hard as your back arched and your thighs tried to clamp around his head, but he held them open as he tasted every last drop from you.

Jace ran a thumb over his bottom lip to collect any extra wetness, sucking the digit clean as he stood over you again.

“Could have had you even earlier,” he said, holding his palm out in front of your face, “if they told me you were here. Spit.”

“Into your hand?” you asked, confused by the action.

“I need something to help lubricate,” he explained, “unless you think you’re wet enough.”

His tone was intentionally taunting you, and it drove you crazy. You liked him being domineering over you.

Embarrassed, you forced the words out, “I don’t think that’s a problem.”

“No?” he responded, ruthlessly shoving a finger into your hole, causing you to gasp as he almost immediately pulled it out and sucked it dry, “guess you’re right.”

He lined his cock up with your entrance, holding one leg flush against his waist. “Can’t believe I could have had you yesterday.”

He pushed his entire length into you with one violent thrust, a strangled moan leaving your throat at the sudden intrusion. The force nearly had you crying, your hole not quite ready for his size, even with your immense wetness.

“Poor baby, is that too much? You gonna cry?” he taunted, pulling almost all the way out before pushing into you hard again, causing your body to jolt upward.

A tear ran down your cheek, and Jacaerys leaned down and licked it off of your face.

Seeing you cry reminded him of the frustration he entered the room with, and he would be damned if he didn’t use the outlet right in front of him to release some of it.

He gripped your waist roughly, beginning to piston in and out of you, forcing you to adjust to his size as you went, if that was even possible.

A hand found its way around your throat, squeezing enough to only slightly obstruct your air flow as he fucked you hard. He thought about how mad at you he was, how mad at his family he was, how mad at this war he was, how good you looked underneath him- he was starting to lose control.

You whined his name as your walls began to squeeze him again, overstimulated from having just came only a few minutes ago. Jacaerys slowed down his pace exponentially, determined to make your next climax drag out.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he praised.

You simply moaned in response, his hips rutting into you at a violent pace, his pubic bone hitting your clit with every single thrust.

His hand left your throat and instead snaked around your waist, holding you at a higher angle that felt even better than before.

“Jace, fuck,” you moaned.

You heard armored footsteps clang down the staircase, and within moments, a member of the guard came into view. Jacaerys turned to him, with no urgency, and no shame. He continued to fuck you as he spoke, “not now.”

The man was caught off guard by the sight, and you tried to turn away from him and hide, but Jacaerys grabbed your jaw and forced you to keep your head straight.

When the man only took a step back and didn’t fully leave, Jacaerys repeated himself. “Not. Fucking. Now.”

The man snapped out of his thoughts the second time, bowing toward Jace and retreating back up the staircase.

Jacaerys picked up the pace once the man was out of view, fucking you as fast as he possibly could.

“Always have to fucking repeat myself,” he said, his anger growing as he dipped his head near the crook of your neck.

He spoke with each thrust, “They Never. Fucking. Listen.”

Tears were freely falling down your face now, the intensity almost too much for you. Jacaerys lifted his head to look at you, saw you crying, and lost it.

He pulled out of you, swiftly pulling you off the bench, spinning you around, and roughly pushing you back down so that your elbows rested on the bench, your ass up and level with his hips.

He inserted himself back into you and reset his pace, snapping his hips against you as hard as he could, watching the flesh of your ass shake with each hit.

He grabbed a fistful of your hair, harshly pulling until your back arched. He watched your face contort in pleasure, now that there was no hiding. Jacaerys had you completely at his mercy.

“So fucking pretty, crying with my cock in you.”

His words caused your walls to squeeze his cock, only a few sharp thrusts away from coming.

Your second high hit you even harder than the first, your legs shaking uncontrollably as your juices lubricated Jace even more.

You would have fallen, your legs giving out, if Jacaerys didn’t have such an intense grip in your hips. Feeling the weakness in your legs. he wrapped an arm around your waist and one around your chest, pulling you upward so that your back was flush against his chest.

He broke his dominance to ask you, “fuck, Y/N, where can I come?”

You sniffled and whined, “I’m yours, Jace, you can come inside of me. Please.”

“You want me to fill you up?” he tsked, holding you tightly against him as he thrust upward, “then beg for it.”

“I- I can’t-“

“I don’t like having to repeat myself,” he spat, his thrusts now long but hard, your whole body convulsing and giving out in his arms.

“Please, Jace, please come in me, I’m yours, I want you in me, please-“

The begging was enough to send him over the edge, and he bit down on your shoulder to quiet his groans as he came inside of you, spilling his seed deep within your walls, further marking you as his.

He held you against his body for several minutes, relishing in the feeling of you so close to him, before slowly helping you sit down on the bench.

He sat next to you, catching his breath along with you. When he was sufficiently recovered, he put his clothes back on, stood up, and held a hand out toward you.

You furrowed your brows in confusion.

“You want out of this cell or not?”

#jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon smut #jacaerys x reader #jace velaryon #jace targaryen #jacaerys targaryen #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon x y/n #asks #house of the dragon

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elissanatok · 1 year ago

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part 4

pairing: Aemond targaryen x velaryon! (strong!) reader

summary: Aemond has loved and secretly claimed you for himself since the day you were born. losing his eye changed him, but maybe it did not affect his feelings for you as much as he thought it had

warnings: english is not my first language, angst, fluff, shy reader, unclexniece, possesive aemond, everybody adores reader in this

wordcount: 902

let me know what you think!! reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback are highly appreciated <33

You couldn’t help it. It had been this way ever since you were a child. Maybe even before that, maybe it was fated by the old gods. You tried so hard to forget about the warm feeling that memories still brought up in you when you thought about the past.

You could hear him giggling, a sound that now was lost forever. He would never be seven again, never sound like that again or look at you the way he used to. He had been your best friend, nothing else, and you wished so hard for it to become that way again.

The light of the almost complete full moon shone through the high window in your bedroom. It had always been your room, nobody dared to change a thing, even though the beautiful chamber had been empty for too long. It didn’t smell familiar anymore, you had realized and so had Aemond, for the hundredth time, while standing in the doorway. You did have a bad habit of not closing the door when you wished for some privacy, always feeling safe and respected in both your homes, but now it seemed like the dumbest thing you had ever done.

In his life he had visited your room more often than you did yourself, he would never say it or tell you, but it was more his than yours at this point. But than again that’s what you felt a lot throughout your life. Being more his than your own.

He stood there for a few minutes, not saying a word, not breathing too loud.

You looked pretty when you cried. Your eyes tinged red and your cheeks stained wet. The color of your lips more prominent because of the swelling. He felt captivated by the sight, but he knew that it was his fault you had shed painful tears. He cleared his throat, clenching his hands behind his back. A small gasp escaped you while your hand flew to your chest, touching the skin above your heart.

“Princess.”, he greeted- you didn´t answer. Your eyes fixed on him like a prey prepared to get his throat torn out, until they changed to the eyes of a dragon, ready for her own meal.

“Did you come here to violate me again?”’ His eyes widened. He certainly didn´t expect you to confront him so straight forward and he never wanted you to believe he had wanted to hurt you. “I…”, “or did you come to make fun of my hair?”

He shook his head. “No. It wasn´t my intention to…”, “Are you certain about that?” He shook his head again, white hair falling out of place. “If it wasn´t you intention than why did you say it? Why couldn´t you hold back when it wasn´t your intention?”

You turned away, trying to hide the tears that were most likely to fall. “I never meant to hurt you, please believe me. I -I lost control of my temper- I didn´t mean to.” He wasn´t apologizing, you both knew that. He had grown up to a man with great self control, he didn´t even know why he had not excluded you from the speech he presented. He wished he would have been controlled enough to ignore the little smirks Lucerys threw at him and instead could have talked to you in a normal way, maybe charmed you a little.

But he had not been able to control his brewing rage, that’s why he now stood in front of a woman he himself felt he had never met before. She had never looked at him like this. Full of hate and pain. It made her look different, but changed nothing about the feelings he kept for her. She was his, and he knew no matter what happened in the future, no matter how she looked at him, his love would always be reserved for her.

You heard his footsteps retrieve from your room, so you hastily ran to the door and slammed it shut – louder than you had intended to.

He had never made you feel like this. He had almost begged you to allow him to touch your hair a few years ago, because he liked it being so different than his. Curly, dark and unruly, not as silky and light as you would have liked for it to be.

It made you doubt. Doubt yourself, although you knew that it was useless. You could not change your appearance you had told yourself, you couldn´t change his view of you, just like you couldn´t change the image of him in your head – no matter how hard you tried or how hard he seemed to try to break it.

When the sun rose again the next morning, and the maids came to prepare you for the day, raking their gentle hands through your hair, you could not stop your wandering thoughts again. The circles under your eyes showed your clear lack of sleep, and everybody would be able to see them. But you weren´t sure anymore if you were good enough to stay in the red keep, if you were strong enough to handle the ongoing feud between your family members.

This had been your home, until it hadn´t. This people were your home, until they weren´t anymore and maybe you were the only one who believed that things here hadn´t changed, just because you didn´t.

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii targaryen x you #aemond fanfiction #hotd #aemond fic #aemond imagine #aemond smut #aemond stannies #aemond targaryen #aemond x fem!reader #house of the dragon aemond #house of the dragon #velaryon reader #jace velaryon #lucerys velaryon #strong reader #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targeryan

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eldrith · 9 days ago

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˗ˏˋ A Golden Cup ˎˊ˗ Jacaerys Velaryon

jacaerys velaryon x targtower fem!reader [part four of a golden cage series.] words: 14.2k. synopsis: The chains of faith are not so easily cast aside. notes: we are soooo locking in to trauma in this chap. we are soooo drinking from teacups and gossiping with our friends. we are sooooo going to an awkward dinner party. we are sooooo teaching our boyfriend how to pray. we are sooooo scared & sooooo miserable! this is sooooo unedited! but sorry to the people who are here for smut bc there is none in this chapter. enjoy the plot <3 xoxox (pretend i didn't disappear for half a year tyvm) warnings: emotional complexities. unreliable narrator. maybe premonition. canon-typical violence/blood/injury, angst. character death. religious trauma, all kinds of trauma, inner monologues, kissing and some fluff. doubting religion AND the crown. foreshadowing if that's a warning requests closed. this is for my irl roommate & personal kissing mannequin @dipperscavern . & for the loml & other kissing mannequin @systraes . you are the void i shout to. fate into flesh or whatever they say idk. febu previous. series masterlist. masterlist.

PEACE FINDS YOU IN THE MOST BIZARRE OF CIRCUMSTANCES.

It has followed in every step of life – the moment a foot slips from a stirrup, a smile in the first drop on dragonback. Quiet prayers whispered through the torrential downpour on the night your brother slayed Lucerys; Patient words under the scrutiny of the Queen’s entire court. A hand, unwaveringly gripped around sharp steel as your betrothed pointed his sword down your nose.

Perhaps it is a simple and base instinct, some quiet mechanism within the folds of your skittish mind – or, even more likely, a small cry out for mercy to the gods who watch upon those simply caught in the trappings of circumstance.

You were just a young girl, barely old enough to steadily hold yourself upright, when they’d placed the babe in your arms.

Such a small creature. Fresh from the womb, the Septas had pressed him to your chest, murmuring you would be fine for a few minutes; that you had the wisdom of the Mother already, although you'd hardly seen three name days pass yourself.

His skin was so very soft – wisps of those paled curls, the very same that grow from the crown all your siblings, glinted so gently in the muggy heat of afternoon; little shining threads of gold caught in the glaze of sunbreath.

And that violet gaze, locked up at you; an innocence so premature, so unassuming.

It had arrested you, that gaze: Devotion, love, those pure things which he only just learned and had yet to truly understand. All because he knew not any other way; a warmth that had entrapped you within your mind, reeling to recall any similar expressions of affection from your mother nor father at any point in your small life.

You’d come up with scraps: A half-prideful stare from your father, the whisper of Rhaenyra on his breath; your mother’s approving glance when you turned your nose at the presence of the boys wearing cloaks of blue and curls of deep umber. But Daeron - so little, so loving; it had sent such distraction through you that you noticed not as his skin grew rather flushed against the blanket, as his wails grew louder by the short-passing moment.

Your mother wrapped him herself – that, you’d noticed; in lovely cerulean stitching, etched with small embroideries of towers and dragons – but in your admiration of such needlework, his cries became shallow gasps and wails.

You’d known not what to do; entranced in such a calm, paralyzing shock – you’d never seen such light go out of a gaze, never heard such wails taper into pitiful whimpers.

Fear slapping your spine rigid, a solemn beat of your heart as you stared helplessly, flooded with an arresting, unnatural calm.

The Septas returned not moments later, and you still thank the Gods to this day that they did.

Daeron’s breath had been faint – and later that night under the blanket of dark, you’d wondered with tears in your eyes if he’d gone and met the Stranger while still in your hands, if just for a moment.

But the Septas returned.

The blankets had been ripped away and you’d remained in the corner, hands frozen still in the shape of his little bundle, eyes wide and fingers trembling. There’d been nothing within your mind as you watched the Septas scream for the Maesters, as they rushed to cool the expiring soul of your young brother – a wash of calm, in the fear that’d gripped you so tight.

You’d not understood until much later - only when the Septas whispered while you hid behind curtains thicker than your hair. He’d nearly died.

After all, one should know better than to trust children with children.

“Princess.”

And her voice comes to you in a song; or perhaps, a warm memory of silkspun silver tresses and a dreaming gaze – of gentle hums, of clicking legs, of fingers tracing delicate wings through golden cages.

“Princess.”

You swear, you could feel her fingers trace your spine now-

“Princess.”

Your eyes open; less than startled, though your inhale is sharp from your nose.

The tub is warmed with water, and you are bathed gently within it. Your sister is beside you, her gown a deep charcoal; a shade of burnt ash, of rusted spikes somewhere far below where you sit.

Her vision swims in the reflection of your bathwater; You suck in a breath.

“Helaena.” You whisper, blinking away the smudged drops of bathwater from your face.

A quiet moment.

“Pardon me, my Princess?”

Your blink is languid – water sticks to your lashes, clotting your vision until your sweet sister beside you nearly looks like a spider; then, she is a snake – a strike of fear, and sharp spokes which jump up towards you at the end of a long path, and you’re falling – another blink, and you jolt.

Helaena is gone; instead sits Elina, your handmaid. She watches with widened eyes as she tends to your tresses with a comb and soft hands.

A gentle shake of head, the motion snagging a tangle within the spokes of the comb – but you do not wince, eyeing the girl beside you with a bizarre stare. The world is cloudy; not only the skies above, but your own vision, your foggy mind.

“I’m–” You blink again, fighting a sheepish fluster from your cheeks – two other girls in your chambers attend to you, as well. One, scrubbing your nails, the other across the way, preparing evening tea – and they too have paused, hands slowing as they turn to watch you with owl-eyes.

Your lips flounder for only a moment. “Pardon me. I thought… I was recalling memory, I suppose. Of… the Red Keep.” You admit dreamily – you’re unsure why you admit such foolish delusion, though the two girls beside you keep their eyes focused nonetheless.

The maid across the way quickly turns her head away when you seek her; and with quick fingers, she pulls her sleeves over a glimmering spider’s silk scar. An inkling of recognition, slipping away in the afternoon breeze; she measures a dark red herb into a small steeper before the ridges of her spine straighten slowly. Outside, a bird calls. It sounds like a cry.

“Have you slept much as of late?” Elina wonders from beside you, a wisp of blonde peeking from her tied hair. She is a sweet girl – the fondness you hold for her is one tinged with only a piling guilt these days, one which adds in each passing moon. You clear your throat, unoccupied fingers trailing through the ripples upon the water.

A spiced aroma grows within the steamed room – the handmaid has begun pouring your tea, and it bleeds a crimson colour into the teacup. A flash of familiarity in the sweep of her face, though you blink and it is once again gone; It is not often you do not particularly recognize one of the members of household, though perhaps as of recent, such politeness has gotten away from you.

“Forgive me,” your voice is a dream of a far away land. “The Queen’s council has left me…weary this evening.” You admit, sighing.

In the quiet passing of time, eventually your nails and body are cleansed; your mind troubled with thoughts of marriage – but more so with lips, cherry and bitten, with a voice low and murmuring; with a warm gaze turned sharp in the fall of eve; of whispered words and promises in a room floating with ancient dust.

With a quieted voice, you dismiss the maid to your right.

Only moments before the tea is set for you, its tendrils curling up viciously and out towards your open window; the scent is spicy, foreign. “Is this a new blend?” You wonder aloud - the girl with skittish eyes nods, a small squeak from her throat, “Yes, Princess.” She affirms. “A gift from the Queen herself. In congratulations.” Her voice warbles, fingers twitching – a vision of nerves in court, of fingers against a dress of gold.

And there, in the mirror of her anxiety, is that phantom limb once more; a memory lost to a life that is far gone now.

You hum, transfixed on the steam which curls out in spools over the stone table beside the tub. A peculiar gift from the queen – the tea swirls opposite the steam of your bath, and its scent tethers you to the heavy pull of your spine. Your stomach rumbles in interest.

She bows and takes her leave; it is not until you are once again alone with Elina that you speak once more. Through the peace of eveningfall, you ask her of her love again – and as always, she flushes like a rose.

The island breathes in green, slowly blinking a sunset of orange and pink; Elina whispers of the boy she loves as tendrils of scented oils climb into your nostrils and soothe the aches in your muscles. It is a tale she has amused you with many times but one you have not grown weary of either.

A fisherboy from the east coast of the island – a sweetheart since her age of ten, if there ever was such a thing; he has brown curls, an upturned nose, and a laugh like the raucous sea.

Though times have indeed changed, perhaps just as much for the common folk as for you in your ivory castles; with the influx of wartime supplies to the island across the sea, she must only dream of him now; and her tales of youthful kisses and chivalrous walks upon a shoreline grow melancholy as you stare out the window before you, Moondancer’s shadow echoing in the rippled waves of the tides far away.

In the dawn of her tale, she murmurs gently, eyes glancing to the shore. “He says he’ll marry me after the war’s end.”

It is quiet for a long moment. You find nothing to say to her words.

It does not last long – after the final whispers of his name die on her tongue, she clears her throat, endeavoring to wrangle through the knots and tie back your hair. “Something troubles you, Princess.” There are more words waiting on her hesitant tongue; she does not release them.

It is a moment of gathering thought in which you decide she is far more friend than anyone else upon this rock – and that, even without her station, perhaps she’d endeavor to listen to your troubles anyways. “It was decided this evening,” You inform her in a rather formal tone, “that I am to wed Prince Jacaerys after all. Our marriage will be quite soon, and before all of the smallfolk on the Island.”

And then, an afterthought as you gaze to the peeking wander of ships headed west, “perhaps Driftmark, as well.”

Her hands slow in your hair, breath puffing upon the crown of your head. “-That is… quite wonderful news,” She agrees, though her tone bleeds through false words; she knows you all too well, it seems. “A royal wedding will bring a much welcomed recess from the times we live, my Princess.”

Her words fall hollow into the empty chasm of your wounded heart. Sardonically, you smile to your sullen reflection in the pooled bath below. A wedding… while the kingdom prepares to bleed.

Words, those buzzing pests of voices from the council not an hour past: “-And we are to assume that a royal celebration might distract the masses from the acts committed? From the war that brews?”

There’d been sharp looks shared at the news of you and Jace’s resurrected betrothal at council this afternoon; half-surprised, half-concerned glances from both your cousins across the Painted table, though you could not bring yourself to return their gazes. For Daemon’s stare, much too hot and much too amused, burning into the side of your visage; the slippery serpent he is, eyes glancing between you and Jacaerys, taking in the rigidity of your spines with a mirthful glee.

It would have been more excruciating yet had not the discussion been propped by more relevant topics to discuss, as to the efficacy of your union having any effect at all on the tides of war.

The realm watches, Lord Corlys had assured, many lords await the wind to tip the scale. Their marriage is not about turning heads.

Indeed, it is not - and such a burden even in youth, your betrothal was: A thin bridge held together by the grasp of youthful hands that did not wish to touch, an abyssal gap fractured into splintered verdant and carmine shards.

And in these more forgiving moments, when you may wish to let yourself down easy; what an inconsolably crushing weight on shoulders no older than ten and two. For all of those nights you spent lying awake upon sheets of down, wondering up at the swimming dark of the ceiling why the gods had chosen you as your mother’s branch of olives - as your father’s forgotten dove, the small creature who’d always been seen as the shadow of others.

This marriage is not about turning heads, Lord Corlys is correct. Now, it is about swaying swords.

And the thought had been floated – a fickle thing, some brush by way of wind through the chamber doors – boats, they’d said. Tidings.

“-to cause a shift. The Sea Snake’s blockade at the Gullet strangles the trade routes. King's Landing starves, yet Aegon dines easily in the Keep.”

Indeed even now, in the syrupy aftermath of the council, you must admit it is a clever move.

“Along the wedding celebrations, we send boats – as far as the Capital.” Though it’d been your own voice speaking such words, there coils such gripping guilt within you. And there’d been Queen Rhaenyra, nodding solemnly. The boats, to be laden with food - grain, salt, preserved meats; a gift from Dragonstone, tidings from a fruitful green and black union.

Their rightful Queen’s heir; a gift from him and his new wife, the Prince and Princess of Dragonstone.

In recollection, your brows furrow. “There is much more to be done than attend some wedding. It surely is not of much interest to the smallfolk in these times.” You sniff, brushing hair from your face in the swirling quiet. “Especially for the Usurper’s sister.”

The hand within your tresses pauses at your words; for a moment, only the sea breathes. “But the smallfolk love you.” She sounds nearly startled by your words, as if the sheep of thought had yet to cross her mind’s pasture.

You’d laugh, if you had the gall - the smallfolk? The smallfolk have never had the luxury to hate you, nor to love you; never truly had much power to do anything but bend beneath your heels. It is how it has always been.

In youth, a procession had spurred your urge to reach towards a commongirl who had called your name. The sun was high in the sky, and she, a girl of your age – it was then that your kinslayer brother had ripped you back into the cart with a sharp glance. They do not love you, he’d snarled; They are dogs at the foot of a table. Grateful, for scraps discarded from the hands that feast.

As it is, you are incredibly discomforted by Elina’s words, and perhaps it shows on your face – for she falls silent, instead beginning a series of braids from the crown of your head.

“The smallfolk endure us.” You murmur, “Because they have to.”

She does not much respond, and in the silence you hear the voices of the council, reverberating in the breaths from your lungs.

“In every tavern, at every hearth from here to Stoney Sept - the people will speak of your union, of your generosity. The Queen’s heir and his wife – gifting the smallfolk with life.”

Perhaps it is the most prevalent way to avoid bloodshed – noble bloodshed, that is – though it sits incorrectly in your chest. “A gracious gift – the masses will surely remember the ones who saved them from the crimes of war.”

Moondancer flies across the setting wildfire of eve, and you grow more pensive and dreadful by the minute.

“Your tea grows cold.” Elina observes with a concerned glance.

You cannot help the faint smile that befalls your visage at her concern; though you have no interest in its contents, you see her lingering stare, the interest in a pursing of lips. Steam spills from the saucer – it smells of wonderful spices from Essos.

“You have it,” you decide after only a moment, eyes fluttering shut as she finishes the braid upon your left temple.

You feel her hesitation in fingers, hear it in the surprised giggle she belies. “Oh, no, my Princess, it is for you.”

You smile at her uncertainty, keenly aware of her similarities to the golden-locked sister you left across the sea. “I insist, Elina.” You nod, gesturing to it, eyeing the tendrils of steam which rise from your heated skin. “Go, now. You must have it, it smells much too pleasant to be wasted.”

Her grin is bright when she gives in – and with a giggle that you nearly reciprocate, she lifts the teacup to her lips; a long sip, one which heats her cheeks perhaps at the action of using utensils higher than her station. Her flickering eyes and giddy cheeks are endearing – the tea is red upon her lips for only a split moment as she pulls it away.

She enjoys her cup while you leave the bath – a preparation she aids you with while still reposed by the table upon your insistence; supper has been called, and you must meet your family once more for a rather excruciating celebratory feast.

Despite your trivial woes, the evening falls in serenity; you, Elina by your side, sipping gently on tea and whispering about the beasts in the sky.

YOUR GAZE FINDS HIM BEFORE HE IS EVEN AWARE.

Jacaerys, with a templed posture down the flickering hall, a soft clinking of fine leather and metal. A set jaw, one that turns in his sweep – and then eyes of amber find yours. There is a light within them you can still yet see, like feathery papered wings, drawn to your own flickering flame.

A less hurried stride – though no less purposeful than your own – Jace slows his pace when your eyes lock, far enough that his tousled curls blur around the edge of your vision.

Beneath the sleeves of your mahogany gown, your fingers pluck at skin; you still your own pace, swallowing under the weight of silence heavy around you.

There’s a brief moment of recognition, some momentary breath from both parties – and yet after a glance from both pairs of skittish eyes, the hall is deemed empty of lingering stares.

And quite rapidly, the distance between you and your betrothed shortens.

It is bizarre, your pull – and yet you stop only a step away, closer than you’ve been since the Painted Table this afternoon in such heated fervor.

A twitch in his hands, a shift of his weight – he is rather awkward now, and you bite your lip as you both hover in the middle of the stoned floor. Your hands ache to feel his heat, though you linger in your yearning, waiting with baited breath and heated cheeks.

Your name, syrupy and unsure, is the only thing to fall from his lips.

The Prince’s eyes flicker between your own, head declined just enough to stare straight into your own gaze. You’re arrested only momentarily before you snap back to the present, clearing your throat – a rush of heat through you at the soft turn of his gaze, the downturn of his brows that more than likely mirrors your own expression.

There is so much to say.

“Hello.” You select dumbly; though it is received with a small flicker of amusement, some repressed grin that yields a soft turn of dimple in his grin.

“Hello,” He echoes, and it is too much at once – his soft echo of your own awkwardness, the huff of amusement you share. Your face turns hot under the memories of activities held in common between you just hours ago, at the stupidity of your hushed tones, the odd giddiness as if between childhood lovers finally permised to embrace: But that is, as ever it could have been, not the case.

And then, in the groaning whispers of falling nighttime, in the empty hallway, you and your betrothed reach an understanding.

Dark eyes turn upon yours and you sway just so upon your feet, unsure if speaking would worsen this feeling that dances on the tip of your tongue.

And when he is quiet, when he is just as unsure of what to do as you are, he is so very handsome.

A curved jaw, the turned slope of grace he shares with his mother; and a fire within his gaze that sets you warm. Are you truly of the opinion that my actions are driven by nothing more than desire?

Your lips press tight as you cast your glance away, the chiding ramble of your mother in your mind: Rather hypocritical. You sin.

Your inhale is sharp; the amber that flickers over your face, a look twisted in pity – you clench your teeth, clearing your throat. “Jace.” You perhaps plan on guiding your foolish jolts towards conversation in a certain fashion; though his brows lift, a flash of concern through his stare.

His lips, glossy upon the light of torches, press together in some twistedly alluring mix between a smile and a frown.

A hand finds yours; palm warm, soft against your own, and it sends your mind reeling; so delicate a touch. Your brows lift only slightly, fingers lacing with his own after your eyes flick over his tailored shoulder warily.

“Are you…” He does not continue for a brief moment, instead urging closer with half-step — your spine straightens, swept in the woody scent of the forested Dragonmont that accompanies his presence, towered by his imposed height, charmed by the searching warmth in his eyes. “-are you alright?”

He finishes his canvassing in a bent whisper, with knitted brows and pouted lips. After all, it is an odd question — one you’re unsure how to answer; and it lingers, heavier than perhaps it was proposed. Yet Jacaerys waits patiently, teeth worried within the cushion of his bottom lip.

The sting of embarrassment — of a hawkish stare from the rogue prince, the shame, the stupidity of limbs tangled in the dusty light of day — a spoil of some war of bodies upon a table, of fingers knotted in desperation.

And your answer comes easy as ever in a nod and a forced, falsified fable, a lie so often told through your teeth. “I’m fine,” You murmur, “Are you?”

Perhaps it is this moment it hits the prince before you; with a gaze that trickles in a slow leak to the floor separating your pointe shoes from his own boots, he hesitates.

“…I’m not sure.”

It’s a vulnerability; a gaping wound, putrid flesh forgotten in the sun, that festers with each passing day — I don’t know, you agree — I don’t know, but I am scared.

It has never done well to reopen a wound not yet healed.

Your thumb runs over roughened knuckles, his fingers twitching within your grasp, jolting at your very faint touch, though you pretend not to notice.

He seems to find words to fill the absence of sound in the halls. “It’s been some time, but I… tried speaking to them.” His eyes flick away as red lips press together. Your stare must be a breath too blank, for he continues, “–The gods,” He elaborates; your brows raise at his candor. “I suppose for some guidance.” He decides.

His words find you with surprise; not particularly due to what he says but rather for the sheepish way in which he delivers the information, as if unsure how you’ll react. He searches for something, you realize; perhaps the same very thing absent in your own heart.

His eyes are wide, specks deep through a ring of ambered honey – though some twisted thing, that same seed that unfurled and sprouted within your older brother; that envy – it blossoms in your chest, unruly and vicious.

“The gods don’t listen,” you retort swiftly, a sardonic grin flickering miserably across your smile.

His head tilts slightly, eyes narrowing in faint surprise; it’s only now that you register your previous words, a slithering lick of shame curling up your spine.

“No?” Jacaerys wonders – a flicker of surprise that you are not foolish enough to believe is any semblance of disagreement; rather Jace’s preconceived notion that you ring true still among the devout.

Your cheeks are warm, and his eyes are low upon your face. Does he see your mother staring back at him?

A clearing of your throat as you nod, “Not to me, at least,” the edge of your voice is mercifully smoothed by something almost playful; your fingers shift within his grasp, brushing over the calluses on his knuckles. “Perhaps you’ll have better luck, my Prince.” You smile – and though he delivers a less than skeptical look, you’re thankful for his restraint.

And of course, the very dimple of his you so admire blossoms upon his smile when he looks down in the scarce light. “Let us hope then, Princess.”

And despite yourself, a jump within your stomach at his tone, a skip in your heart. Some giddiness, perhaps in reaction to the dread which surrounds the castle, leaks through your chest.

As though deciding within his mind, he looks back to you, clearing his throat. “I know that– that we’ve not had much time to ourselves,” He starts, “Though I’d hoped we could–”

But as his mouth opens once more, footsteps: A sharp laugh muffled only by the separation of stone walls; and then your cousins round the corner, their smiles bright.

Perhaps through some instance of habit, your hands drop each other immediately – you, pulling back and Jacaerys taking a half-stagger towards the wall at the startle as if mere children caught stealing bread from a feast table – both of you glancing down the hall with burning visages.

A weak breath from your lips as you clear your throat uncomfortably, nodding to them as they wave down the tunneled hall.

But Jacaerys’s invitation, half-swallowed by the ignominy of unexpected company, still draws necessity from your gut. “We should, Jacaerys,” you agree with a murmur, sending him a small nod as you turn to him once more.

He need not elaborate; you know well enough he wishes to speak in private. “Perhaps on the morrow?” You suggest, fighting the tension of strained courteousness.

A press of his lips in a concealed, tight-lipped smile brings forth a dimple to the curve of his cheek; a flutter at the sight as he casts his gaze down once more, awaiting your approaching cousins as their conversation tampers to greet you.

DINNER AWARDS NO REST OF TENSION FOR YOU AND JACAERYS.

The hall’s table is set in a long stretch; The scrape of dishes against forks, the crackle of the hearth – you drown in it, not well used to such calm manners of gathering; more oft than not since you arrived upon the island have the feasts with the crowned family ended in sharp tongues and bitter stares. Such instances are, momentarily, absent from the dinner tonight.

Candles drip tallow slowly from their silvered limbs across the walls, backlit and outshined by the bright licks of peat flames – and you, sewn together by the numb acceptance of change, resign quietly in your chair to be gawked at in some form as plans are proposed, rather casually, for the location of your upcoming union to Jacaerys.

At the head Queen Rhaenyra sits – and with a fold of her hands, nods towards a proposed setting. “Perhaps we hold the ceremony here on Dragonstone," she suggests, “Once more, a Targaryen marriage on Targaryen soil.”

It is a thought you’d given little attention – spare for this afternoon as Elina had sipped upon your tea and you’d laid your eyes to watch the free churn of silvery purple wings against the sun in the distance.

And a voice from aside Queen Rhaenyra, slumped in the frame of his chair. “I might remind you that the sept here isn’t exactly grand. It gathers dust with each day.”

The mention of the Sept bristles you; There is a rippling agreement through the table, though with a spare glance to your side, you find Jacaerys fixated upon the vegetables before him, eyes far-off and consumed. Rhaenys carries the same bemused practicality as you’ve always known within her as she begrudgingly agrees with your uncle. “Nor has it seen a ceremony in years. It could hardly hold enough folk for our intentions.”

And the thought of the sept – its cold, hardly adorned walls which whisper in echo to your own quiet prayers; a place uninhabited by any besides the Septas and your own festering thoughts.

The goblet in your hand is gilded with curves of thorned flowers along the base of the cup, your visage corrupted and warped in the golden reflection. You can only stare back at your warped countenance in hopes the conversation will soon end.

It is your cousin’s voice from across the way which gains your attention next, as the contents of your cup slip into your stomach. “It may gather dust,” Rhaena agrees rather gently, casting a quick glance at you, “But it’s hardly abandoned.”

And if the many pairs of eyes were not already upon you, they find you then; Lord Corlys, sitting at the far end of the table, hums.

“There is but one person who keeps that sept from falling entirely to ruin.” His eyes land on you not unkindly – and perhaps in desperation, you find some kind of warmth in his words, as if to acknowledge a quiet dedication he perhaps admires, or simply acknowledges. Your cheeks burn in the shadow of the woman left across the sea, who sits dowager and whispers prayers into the wind of your dreams.

Though in turn of their intentions of setting you at ease, the thought sends a new wave of guilt swirling through you, well-aware of the true purpose of visiting the sept so habitually.

A faint smile curves on Baela’s lips, and she leans forward. “Perhaps it would be appropriate, then? Breathe new life into it, make it…” Though it seems any hope leaves as she trails off, aware of the tepid spirit that surrounds the wedding, of the uncomfortable breaths that fall in tandem from your lips and Jacaerys’.

“...Sacred again, in a way.”

The thought is wholly unpleasant to you; perhaps in your mother’s stern voice in the back of your mind, whispering sharp daggers of criminality into your veins.

Daemon chuckles softly, a sardonic smile tugging at his mouth as he glances at Rhaenyra. “Forgive me, but the future king and queen marrying in a sept nearly swallowed by time is hardly a fitting legacy.” His gaze flickers to you, as though assessing how you might take such a slight; you level him with a stare mirrored in equivocation. The king consort lifts a shoulder. “We’d hardly want it to feel like a funeral.”

A needle carefully placed to sew a new line, red and thin. He aims for the eyes with his sharp point; some stirring amusement within his stare that causes your stubborn proclivities to roar, but you know better than to let temptation unravel you. People much worse than him have tried.

We’d hardly want it to feel like a funeral.

“If it were more frequented, perhaps it wouldn’t feel as such.” You choose instead of the lash of tongue you reign in; the words are sharp and whipped relentlessly – a vision of your mother in green, spilling her words from your tongue as easy as letting a breath into your lungs.

The table falls quiet at this, and in a cold wash of shame, your eyes fall back to the table.

Around you, wary eyes flicker; in a sickness bouting through your stomach, a youthful Jacaerys’ words follow your echoes: It’s like she opens her mouth and her mother speaks through it.

It is a moment in which shame floods the features of your face; and you, awkward as a newborn doe, swallow back your pride.

The room is quiet, but through your embarrassment you register a sudden pressure against your leg; A warm surprise of pressure against your calf.

It is, in a moment of breath, merely a boot sliding against your gown and pressing against your leg under the table. A gesture of reassurance. It is your nature when your gaze flicks momentarily to the prince sat beside you – his jaw remains terse but his gaze has grown quite warm when he returns your glance.

A small nudge from him in the quiet moment; and with a swallow of affinity, you nudge Jacaerys back. His lips twitch just so; you pretend not to notice.

It is only a breath of a moment after that you realign your face into a more serene expression – and with that, you feel a tinge of pride, breathing through the ravaging sea of spite that crashes against the cliffs of your heart. The blood of a Hightower is thick in ambition, you’d once heard Lord Corlys say; perhaps, he is correct.

The smile upon your face might be plastered, but it is radiant.

“Apologies. Though I appreciate the dramatics as always, Daemon,” You address the man with a thinly veiled tone of respect, “Perhaps we should find somewhere… more large. Alive. To gather a larger crowd of folk.”

It is the smallest of gestures — a soft victory within some inlaid battle of words — but you sense Daemon, for all his sarcasm and derision, recognizes it as such. His mouth curves slightly, but the tilt of his eyes does not soften, nor does the rest of Jacaerys’ foot against your own slide away.

There is a brief silence at the table as the meal is served; roast lamb, stew with wild rice, fish – and a few more cups of wine for you and your intended both – in which Daemon proposes a toast.

“To the realm’s future,” He lifts his cup; the others follow suit, as you lift yours with a stare burnt into the man’s jaw. “And to the union of our future King and Queen. May you have a long, happy marriage.”

The words from his lips have scarcely fallen before you see the tense ridge of Jacaerys’ spine, one which straightens your own in a rise of hackles. It is a harmful thing, really – and with a practiced grace, you and Jacaerys both receive the toast with smiles and kind words.

And it would be a lack of verity if you said you did not feel a growth of warmth through you when Jacaerys turns his cup to you, sharing a small glance and smaller grin.

It is a private thing, a quiet moment: A hand, reaching across a tumultuous river. You grasp it back with a clink of your goblet to his own.

The dinner rolls on; the sun is well past its set into the horizon, and even with the light of candles brings you a breath from the oppression of daylight. The food is hearty, enjoyable – it is unlike the many times you’d sat at this very table, surrounded by eyes which saw you a serpent.

And the poison which drips from certain cups this evening is not that of distrust; nor those of old wounds well festered and sored: No, they are instead some foolish urge to prod a slumbering beast, to dangle a fool by his ankle atop a spire and laugh.

In a shimmering glance away from your warped reflection in the boat of gravy before you, a voice brings you to the surface. “I’d assume it would,” Daemon agrees half-heartedly to some forgotten sentence from his daughter; he sits forward, “Though there is much to plan for beyond merely the smallfolk. We must gather arms from the Houses, as the Prince reminded us at council earlier.”

At the mere mention of his title, a stiffness grows once more in Jacaerys’s gaze, though he tamps it down with a measured exhale; a rather thin line to thread now, as you stir your tea and watch its tendrils of steam crawl from its cup.

“All is merry to plan a wedding. Though perhaps some of us will find some plans to put our passion to good use beyond the Painted Table.” a glance to you and Jacaerys both, his eyes mirthful, “Yes?”

A moment too late you register your own irritation; the gall of your uncle to believe he has any right to dangle such foolish deeds over your heads – as if he himself is any vision of the Father.

The thread has been pulled; Jacaerys unravels shortly.

“–If you have something to say, Daemon,” Jace’s voice is controlled in that threadbare way it can be, and his jaw is clenched sharp enough to reflect the light of the hearth behind you. “–then speak plainly,” His voice is low and volatile, “We all tire of your riddles.”

In a rush of shock – or perhaps worry, should Daemon take Jacaerys’s challenge in its face-value, your hand flies to the side.

You find yourself grasping Jace’s forearm below the table, a warning or comfort - Perhaps something in between.

His hand flexes just beneath your grasp, though he does not shake it off.

Murmurs and clink of silver slow around the table; your eyes meet the Queen’s, and with a helpless blink, you look away. In the wake of Jacaerys’ hiss, Daemon’s brows lift, eyes flickering deviously between you and Jacaerys. “Dare I?” He wonders, the sparred bounce of gazes at the table alarming you. “I merely remind us all, there are matters to consider besides the wedding. After all, some bonds are forged long before vows are spoken–”

“-Enough.” You snap; it is a sharp whistle of wind over a peak, though it does enough to quell the tension that courses through your betrothed’s muscles.

“Right,” A voice deep from down the table, and Lord Corlys shifts upon his seat, “There are more pressing matters at hand than whatever game you’re playing.”

Daemon chuckles under his breath, lifting his goblet again in mock surrender towards you, murmuring into the rim, “Pressing matters indeed.”

Your blood boils; but in lieu of any burst of emotion, Jacaerys simply turns to you with a gaze more molten than honey atop a boilpot; an exasperated glance, one of disbelief and a vague sense of panic.

You respond with a subtle, helpless shake of your head – an acknowledgement of your shared misery, one that nobody else in the room is keen to. And then in some exasperated moment, a flicker of amusement in his stare, shared only with you. You share it in return.

An odd thing, to keep close the simmering truth, a thing so wrong and iniquitous. Jacaerys takes your hand and squeezes it gently under the stone table before dropping it to reach for his cup.

And though the conversation around you carries on rather rocky, you bathe in the silence for the remainder of the dinner.

JACAERYS ACCOMPANIES YOU AFTER THE FEAST.

Though not explicit, you see the glint in Rhaenyra’s eye when he offers his arm to you – and it is not until you’ve rounded the corridor away from the stone drum do you and Jacaerys drop the masks woven onto your visages, the tense square of shoulders – and your hand uncurls from the crook of his elbow as a cat would wake from slumber.

A memory from a time so recent, though it feels ages ago – Jace and you, walking quietly towards your chambers; though tonight, you have warm cheeks from wine and not from the remnants of his lips.

It is not until you approach your doors, with your swordsman posted outside, that you slow to murmur, away from wandering ears.

Your hand stops at the crook of Jace’s elbow, coaxing him a step closer as you sigh. “Daemon is…a vexing character.” You put it rather lightly, some form of apology or complaint lodged within your throat. “I often wonder if he lurks in corners merely in hopes of stumbling into matters that are not his,” You attempt a joke – though your heart thumps oddly at the word matters, and you ignore it steadfastly.

Jacaerys huffs, clearly just as thorned as you are by the entire evening, though a direct tick of his lips lets a breath pass before his murmur. “Like flies to shit, that one.”

His bluntness chips away at the emotions swirling within you; and a surprised laugh escapes your lips, bubbling into something warm.

Laughter pools from you before you can stop yourself.

Jacaerys, perhaps startled by your reaction, looks to you; at the sound his own face lights up – a genuine, bright smile. A smile which softens his features, which gives way to those boyish looks that are so often concealed beneath princely decorum and furrowed brows.

And in a soft mix of laughter, Jacaerys’ chuckles murmurs as unfeigned as your own giggles – in the fading of the harmony, your eyes catch the sight of the guard at your door; his eyes flick away, and you swallow back the heat rising in your chest.

There is a mountain of words unspoken between you and Jacaerys. Though it is a late hour, and there are many things to be done in the morrow; so Jacaerys, with a hesitant touch, takes your palm into his grasp swiftly, eyes glancing to the stone beneath your feet.

A thumb brushes over your knuckles – and then he bends, his lips ghosting over the back of your hand; an earnest gesture, perhaps, as it heats your face more so than the wine did at dinner.

Your hand falls to clutch your skirts when he steps away, amber pools of honey taking in your own gaze, searching perhaps uncertainly for your response. You smile in a poorly concealed heat of awkwardness, clearing your throat as if that might ease the moment.

“Sleep-” He clears his own throat, “Sleep well, Princess.”

You nod as he turns, watching the glint upon his glossy tresses in the torchlight. It is only as he’s taken a step away that you respond, calling to the rich slope of his shoulders. “–You too, Prince Jacaerys.”

THE PRESENCE OF YOUR DREAM IS IMMEDIATE.

The wind is sharp in the lick of shadows; and you know you’re not in the realm of the living, no – you’re melded to the ground upon which you stand, stranded in a field of bones. A figure stands just ahead – a girl with pale hair that drips over a gown of gold; your sister turns to you.

Helaena’s eyes, painted in a flickering violet stare as you stagger; paled lips crack open, though no sound escapes - only the flutter of wings, delicate, fragile, frantic.

A butterfly, circling above her head.

A deep unsettle leaks into your subconscious as the sky above, an inky chasm, shifts just so – and the butterfly flutters; climbing frantically upwards, yet looms above a monstrous, scaled form that growls with ancient breath. You cannot seem to warn the butterfly of the impending jaws above, and it strikes fear through your quivering breast.

It is not until you’ve pulled your legs from the gnarled roots of ricages and spines which litter the ground that you reach Helaena; her eyes, slipped as dying stars anchored on a bright heat that rumbles in breaths high above.

Wings turn to ash above you; they find your inhale, seeping into your lungs in one quick gasp. The butterfly is gone – its papery embers burning away into your blood.

Hands, cold and spectral, shove you back into the darkness; you fall upon bones which crack in whispers of your name below your weight, and Helaena steps forward, her lips still moving in whispers you cannot hear.

Her hands hold a chipped teapot; an old one, with etchings of flowers and dainty ladies washing against a peaceful brook.

It is cracked, though. And with her absent stare, you watch in horror as out crawl spiders from the teapot’s fissures – into her palms, skittering down her arms, crawling up her neck.

Your scream is silenced by an echoing crack of ancient stone; a tower in the distance, cracking in half as a shadow falls from high above where it kisses the clouds, a thunderous plume in the wake of its descent. The ancient breaths from above grow hot with unrest as ashy wings of butterflies fall to bless the decaying ground around you.

“The girl,” Helaena mouths, her voice swallowed by the rising wind. There is a searing pain in your eye - the glint of a knife, a breath forever held by the crashing of some distantly cold waters. “The girl.”

You wake with a gasp, tangled in your sheets, the remnants of the warning still burning in your ears.

The girl.

A jolt to the living realm brings a trickle of clammy sweat down your chest; the hearth across the way is surprisingly stoked and well alive.

And then, a strangled noise – a groaning mewl, some doe struck by a hunter’s bow, awaiting the mercy of a quick knife.

The edge of the room stirs with movement and you’re jolted with shock – you blink sleep from your eyes with the gust of wind upon dust-blown streets, sitting up with a thickening pulse. You leap out of your skin when your vision adjusts to the light of the hearth in the room, a gasp flying from your lips in fear.

At the foot of your bed, a spectre of a girl – hair loose, her skin ashy in the moon’s whisper; a gasp from a mouth much too crimson as she sways upon uneven footing.

“Elina?” You croak, heart within your throat – but that gasp, again; and she is doubled over, breathing in sharp gasps. Unease awaits you in the cavern of your chest.

“What’s happened?” You ask quickly, rising from the sheets with a shaky fear.

There is no response: but the girl stumbles forward, her throat beginning to pulse unnaturally – you leap to your feet, wider awake than ever before.

“P-princess,” she chokes out, her body trembles - fingers fall against the post of your bed frame, her voice weaker still than her hallowed visage. “I– didn’t–” but her breath is not correct; it heaves out laborious, sickly.

Her eyes meet yours, and your heart sinks below your stomach; a drop of crimson rolls from her nostril, and then a cough full of wet blood that sputters into her palm, darker than you’ve ever seen.

“S-something’s wrong.” her voice, desperate. Bare feet slap against stone as your hand grasps her arm; skin yields clammy. Panic pulses through you – her lips are a frosting purple, marred only by stretch of bloody string which pulsates from her nose and has begun to drip its way upon her dress.

Your chamber doors are heavy, though you rip them open and spit into the hallway, shaking as the dredges of murky sleep are wiped away by alarm.

Your shout is sharp as a dying hound, “Fetch Maester Gerardys!” You tremble as you nod to the guard, “Now! And alert the Queen– tell,” You look down the hall, unsure what to do, breathing ragged and sporadic, “Tell Jacaerys, tell–”

A yelp, startled as a kicked kitten from behind you and you can only stop yourself, snapping back to your maid’s side, letting your chamber doors remain open as the guards rush down the corridors.

Elina’s frame collapses as you reach her; you fall to your mattress, pulling her into your arms with shaking breaths – and she, with weak effort, presses her hand into your own.

There is no such moment for you to do anything but sit; and so you do, a sense of numb calm washing over you as you coo to her, wiping hair away from a sheened forehead. Her head lolls heavy against your shoulder, tears soaking the sleeve of your nightgown – veins protrude, purple and ghastly, from her eyes and forehead, spreading down her chin under a trail of blood. Any offer of water is slapped across the stone floors of your bedchamber.

“I’m scared,” she whispers, her voice trembling as she curls closer to you, her breath coming in shallow, pained gasps. “It hurts.”

Your throat tightens – her eyes are wide, terrified; a gasp of striking resemblance to that haunting stare from your dreams.

You can only hold her tighter, cradling her head against your chest as if you could shield her from whatever is eating away at her from the inside; though she has begun a series of horrifying convulsions, and you scramble to remember any such prayer for the sick in the recess of your cobwebbed mind.

“I can’t… I can’t remember-” You mutter helplessly, fingers shaking as you stroke her hair, whispering useless comforts as her body shakes against you.

Her hands are tight; wrapped in a clutched embrace, her muscles spasm and kick, marring you with short bursts of pain as you hold onto her, your own tears falling onto her face as a violent foam of bloody saliva begins to brim through her paled lips.

“No-” You hiss, palm cupping her cheeks – but the blood spreads, it taints; eyes have rolled back, her body convulsing as blood pours in a leak from her nose, drips of crimson tears from the corners of vacantly yellowed eyes. Trails of it foam over your grasp from her mouth – choking, she’s begun, and you’re helpless to watch, your breaths eerily calm in the wake of her gasping gurgles.

Maester Gerardys enters first; followed closely by three pairs of feet slamming against stone, but still you rock gently, a horror encasing your mind as you stare at the girl, stilled in your arms.

Your lips are still mumbling, though your chest burns in the need of breath that will not come; the small bird of a girl in your arms, her blood staining your pillows, her heart stilled after a rapid acceleration and a heaving rattle of breath through blood-stained teeth.

You do not let go of her when Maester Gerardys arrives to your side; with a wail and a panicked grasp, you shoot daggers towards the man with a snarl; a cornered hound.

Your name rolls gently from hesitant lips, though, and it arrests your panic.

Jacaerys is just beside you – clad in a sleeping tunic and trousers, cheeks flushed, eyes wide in concern. Your grip loosens around Elina at Jace’s whisper; And when you back away, his arm is around your waist, pulling you away gently.

Queen Rhaenyra, hand over her breast as she watches; and Daemon, eyes dark as he stares from the girl upon your bed to the blood that stains your hands. In the light of the hearth, Jacaerys lights the few candles beside the bed, and you watch with a hitched breath broken only by the sound of your quiet sobs.

Maester Gerardys pulls back from her figure, his voice laced with a gentle, perturbed sorrow. “She’s with the Gods.”

Time escapes you.

Your fingers shake in the fabric of Jacaerys’s tunic as he holds you steady, easing you onto the settee across from the hearth; he remains as Daemon and the Queen repose in succession.

And when Rhaenyra’s palm finds the stillness of your knee, as your stare smolders into the roar of flames before you, Daemon’s voice is shockingly gentle, quiet. “What happened?” He asks – and you stir only then from your halted fear, glancing to where Maester Gerardys and the guards gather the body from your sheets.

Your lashes flicker, and though the press of Jacaerys’ thigh upon your own is warm, you cannot look away from Elina’s stained blonde hair, tresses marred by a thick paint of blackened blood as it sways in the arms of the guard passing by.

The girl, you hear your sister’s voice whisper. You swallow thickly, shaking your head faintly.

“I…” You croak, shaking your head, “She… woke me. Elina. She’d helped me prepare before I went abed – she acted rather normal, though she’d mentioned a stomachache…” Your brows furrow as a distant memory strikes you. “Her pupils were the size of saucers.”

They had been, truly. Pupils blown wide, her lips slick with saliva she wiped with a sleeve – and a whisper, once more as she undid the hair she’d braided into place just hours before – we’ve kept the chambers quite sweltering this evening, haven’t we, My Princess?

“Did she act any differently?”

Your mind stumbles in its tirade down a dark staircase of trivial moments through the day; And then, some horrifying thought that pierces your stomach, paranoia rippling through you.

“Tea.” You murmur, shaking your head, “The tea you gifted me, that’s all,” You murmur, eyeing Queen Rhaenyra. A blank visage flickers in the lick of flame beside her, though her countenance furrows in unfamiliarity.

A slight shake of the head, a bewildered breath from her breast – she need not say it; the tea that was served was not from her. Three pairs of eyes watch you, though in your panic, you jolt upright, only aware of the sleepgown you wear once Queen Rhaenyra places a blanket upon your shoulders.

“-I was served a new tea this afternoon,” You glance at the table in the corner of your chambers, where the odd girl had prepared it. “I- I was told it was a gift, from the Queen–” in a sickening memory, you exhale, “she drank it this afternoon. Elina. It was prepared by a new handmaid who said she’d come from the kitchens, though I swear I’d–”

And it is as if the storm breaks.

In a flash of a moment, memories flood through you in a pounding horror; the girl with her wrist scarred, flickering eyes behind doors of the Hand of the King.

A sea away, and moons ago yet – a green gaze that ducked away when you and your siblings haunted the halls of the Red Keep, and young, dutiful ears which listened to each word uttered by you and your kin.

“She was there. The Red Keep.” You utter, eyes burning a hole through the stone table, mouth open. The shoulder that brushes your own tenses; a shared glance between the three that you nearly miss in your dissociation.

Daemon is upon his feet within moments, voice barking at the men who crowd the room – an order of the kitchens to be torn apart in search of a tea, red and spiced; and to find the girl with the scar on her wrist.

THE MORNING COMES.

It always does; despite it all, the morning comes – and this time, it kisses your shoulders with a chill, seeping into bones weary and plastered heavy to foreign sheets.

Not foreign, particularly – for you know the softness upon you as though a touch of a familiar palm, the quirk of a familiar boyish grin. And you wake slowly, eyes heavy enough to keep you asleep, but you wake smelling of him.

You are not sure what weakened part of you reaches out – to find him, in the chasm of darkness that returns as you do to consciousness; but your hand drifts over the empty space where he should be, only to find a soft crumple of parchment left in his place.

Before your eyes open, you already know.

His absence does not surprise you, nor does the cold weight of realization that settles upon your chest.

The girl. A poisoned cup; the last shuddering rattle of breath from a sweet friend. Dreams of the sister you left, of a thick thread that wound your wrists and tethered you to hands that wanted nothing; a murder of an innocent because of…

Your eyes are weary, and they burn.

Jacaerys brought you to his chambers last night when your shaking slowed; after Maester Gerardys checked upon your tongue, tracked the flickering motions of your eyes, heard the beats of your heart. Jacaerys had not followed Daemon out the doorway upon some warpath once the whisper of poison fell from Maester Gerardys’ lips – he’d remained instead with a hand hovering over yours, his eyes upon his mother, who had taken you into her side as a mother would a hurt child.

You recall, as you stir under his sheets, how you’d heard his heart beat beneath your ear last night - too steady, too forced.

The rhythm, a caged fury for the sake of a girl who’d barely looked at him without baring her teeth; a buzzing regret for the unripened detestation harvested towards her over fields of youth past. Guilt can be a fickle thing.

And it is indeed a frequent visitor at the doors of your mind; it slides in through the cracks when you sit up in bed, head pounding, aching for sustenance though the thought of food leaves your stomach hollowed in fear.

The note is unfolded slowly; Jacaerys’ hand is scribed with no lack of care, though they are quick, speaking of duty and matters with Daemon.

Though he says nothing explicitly, you know. The handmaid who prepared your tea yesterday - they search for her, or worse, they have already found her; and what is left now is that cold calculation of the Father: of justice.

With a shiver, your fingers twitch to your sternum - some odd remainder of a habit formed in youth, watching your mother clutch her seven-pointed-star round her neck in times of strife. You come empty-clutched instead - a seven-pointed chain that’d been casted into the ocean along with the ring your mother gifted you for your nameday many moons ago, now.

Jace’s request sends a strike of warmth through you as you blearily read the scrawled words to send Ser Steffon to fetch Jacaerys when you wake.

Maester Gerardys, too, is mentioned, and the thought of him fussing over your health makes your chest tighten; there is no such relief in the notion being tended to, not now – not when your heart crawls up your throat; a creeping spider up the spout of a teapot, a coil of serpent wrapping around your neck.

Blood still clings to the gown you’d held Elina in, as it sits rumpled and untouched upon the floor of Jacaerys’ chambers – you wear a simpler one now, retrieved from your boudoir by the hands of your betrothed.

You leave the mound of furs and sheets behind in a slow slide towards the window upon Jacaerys’ far chamber wall.

The fog still clings stubbornly to the sea, curling like a serpent over the rocks, refusing to retreat beneath the morning light.

It is not the attempt on your life – that itself has yet to soak through the surface of your ever-porous skin – but rather the absence of the voice which rouses you from slumber each morning, who combs and styles your hair; who bathes you, who laughs with you, who whispers. She is gone.

Along the distance, the fog eats at the fishing villages; mere dots, no larger than gnats even when you squint. You wonder where Elina’s love lies, and if he woke with the same emptiness in his heart that you did.

Below Jacaerys’ window lies a glance at the Sept of Dragonstone; a pierce in your chest that calls upon the emptiness of your heart.

You do not heed your betrothed’s wish to seek him when you wake; instead, you pull round the cloak draped along the table beside you, tying it doubly to account for its larger size; and you slip past Ser Steffon, who watches and trails behind you at a measured pace.

IN SOME LINGERING SHAME, YOU’RE KNELT BEFORE THE GODS BEFORE DAY FULLY BREAKS.

It is not until you step out into the bailey, wrapped in a cloak that is not your own, does the sky split and begin to weep. It laments its sorrow upon the walls as you blink hard ahead, hoping to cease the endless churning of torment spiraling in your mind.

When you find yourself within the dry stone walls once more, the cloak remains upon your frame – a comfort, in its lingering scent; or a repentance, in its damp chill upon your shoulders.

The gods watch as you kneel in silence; the storm blossoms, cackling at some ancient jest in the sky, and you keel over in your grief, sinking to the soil buried far below the stone.

The Maiden’s face watches you – and in her, you see Elina; in that sweet laugh, the ceaseless effort to remain your handmaid, your friend – despite it all. And the reward she was given for such trust, such loyalty: To die on a mattress of the one she served, one final breath sacrificed for the truth:

It hurts. I’m scared.

“Elina,” You whisper with watery words, watching the candle before you light in flame. Your throat constricts. That sacred little lamb, taken upon the altar of your very own mattress.

Innocence, a token offered to gods who never answer – and, mutedly, you wonder. That death was sent for you, after all – so how would you look, eyes wide and unaware of the sharpness of a blade descending towards you?

Across the hall, someone slinks through the shadows. Smoke swirls. A candle is lit with shaky hands.

And there is the blue lamb, too, you think - the one I could not save either. Fingers shaking, pressing the flame against the wyck beside it; it catches with only an extra breath.

“Lucerys,” You whisper, watching the candle flicker.

And nothing changes.

The rain falls outside. The pit lingers within your stomach.There is a scuff – perhaps a Septa, crossing somewhere behind you. A heavy door drags open from the Bailey outside, and in a breeze of the world’s breath, someone enters.

You duck your chin in prayer, that way you did in childhood under the watchful gaze of your seven-pointed mother.

Today, you worry.

Like some favored cup that you’d grasped too tight, afraid it would fall from your clutches and break into thousands of shards – and how instead you’d watch it shatter in your protective, ignorant grasp. Red rivers of disbelief from a trembling palm; pain, that naive version of love.

Father - you look upon his statue, disbelief in your heart. I worry that love is merely a mirror of violence.

That pathetic something – that yearning, an empty chasm that blossomed even in the days of your youth – with cheeks still cherubic and eyes still bright; five children, white of hair; youthful play, ruddy cheeks, fattened legs. Giggles and breathless yells from behind curtains – from a time when whispers were nothing more than a playgame.

The Crone remembers – and you wonder, then, as you look upon stone shrouded in a cloak. What has become of them, now? Of any of you?

And who are you, but the sister who fled? Who are you, but the one who haunts the halls of the Black Queen, with blood of emerald and a dragon that could turn on them in a moment’s notice?

Fingers grasp the stone before you, and white wax drips in slow tears. Crone – you gaze into eyes carved in sorrow, of sagacity unreachable. I worry that wisdom comes only when it is too late.

In your youth, you’d been gifted a plant in an achingly beautiful painted Braavosi pot; the joy of your nameday, you’d insisted upon tending to it. It’d been hours – each day, admiring its pebbled leaves, bursting with budding fruit from within. Hours curbing away the prying, destructive hands of your elder brothers and cousins, of sitting in awed silence watching the leaves change in the sunlight with your sister.

And then came the day you’d woken to its dead leaves. In your devotion, obsession, you’d given it too much water. Mother – you look upon her statue, disbelief sewn far into the creasings of your heart. I worry that my care only brings ruin.

The face of mercy watches you, and it brings nothing but a tremble of hatred through you.

A flash of your own resentment – and of the tarnished beauty which once beheld your own visage, marred by the presence of you upon his side. Despite efforts taken by others to ensure otherwise, you will still remain forever haunted; forever wondering how you could dare stand with Jacaerys when you so taint the memory of his lost brother.

It is a horrible thing, the chain of fate.

A fate written long before you two were placed into cradles as babes, far before you two were given each other’s name as a promise, then as a threat, then as a promise once more. Smith – your heart aches, and it aches for what is to come. I worry that I cannot shape what I wish to mend.

It is the most difficult perhaps, to regard the young woman etched in stone to your left.

In her face is each that you’ve ever come to know. Baela, the first and best of your friends upon this island; Rhaena, the girl whose company you seek with the knowledge that she will regard you as kin, not adversary.

The humming of your sweet sister in her chambers; in quiet harmony with the buzzing of insects, needles pricking her fingers and singing softly to the blood that beads from her flesh. You’re nothing like Helaena, your mother said. And what tragedy, you think as you consider the draped innocence of the Maiden aside you, what a regret that is.

And your mother, for all that she isn’t – for all that she is. For the girl she lost in her youth; for the distaste, perhaps, in the aspects of you that much too echo the girl she once called friend – through some the absent admiration of a father who held you close, who whispered Rhaenyra instead of your own name when he spoke of his love and admiration.

That name, too – still after these years a stinging sore of regret, jealousy; Rhaenyra, the name you cannot help but reach toward, hand forever extended into emptiness. Rhaenyra, the one you’d picture when you watched yourself in the mirror as a girl, tilting your chin as if there were already a crown upon your head.

Rhaenyra – you’re just like Rhaenyra, your father would whisper, proud; and it is, indeed, why your mother watched you with serpent stares, why your family turned chin upon you each time you dared speak her name in years after.

Perhaps there is no particular malice in the end.

You are no fool to believe that Rhaenyra resents you for what has been done by the hands of your blood; but knowing you are bidden forgiveness is not the same as accepting it. And in that festering void within your breast, the one which vies for affection, for the love of a mother’s touch, for acceptance – there lies one small residual pool of envy.

Rhaenyra, Helaena, Alicent, Baela, Rhaena, Elina – your throat, tightening as you consider then your very own name, that cursed name that falls from lips spitting and serpentine; what are you, to them all?

To the girls here on the island who wear red and black maid uniforms and speak with you like you are one of their own, just to die by the hand whose grasp searched for your own throat?

Maiden, you wonder with worried eyes, I worry I will swallow the women I love.

There comes no such reply, but still you remain in folded grief for some time.

The rain falls outside the stoned walls of the Sept, but in here you remain dry. The island is drinking – or perhaps it cleans itself.

It is a pity you are not there with it.

A candle burns out, and in a shaky lump of grief, you move to relight the wyck.

The doors behind you scrape against the stone, and a wet onslaught finds your ears as you shiver in the breeze. Your fingers shake against the stick, watching the flame dance.

“Lucerys,” You say once more, voice less of a whisper and more a plea.

The clink of metal behind you startles your focus – you turn to face the visitor with an open mouth and wide eyes. In a breath of panic, you start.

A boy, shrouded in the swimming shadows of the Sept’s rounded columns – waterlogged breaths, curls that breathe with his chest, alive, sinking, but alive – and the slip of water rushing around him, swelling like the tide as he moves from the shadows.

Luke, you almost call out – but the black of the tunic catches with the silver scars of a wettened sun – and there, a familiar face, searching eyes, the lick of a tide in the slope of his nose.

Jace.

The pearls of lost memories sink to the depths and you are no longer with that ghost – but instead alone with the Gods and with your betrothed.

There is no greeting, but instead the locking of your eyes to his in acknowledgement – and he approaches you as you turn back to the altar, hands clenched to avoid their shake.

“–Do they listen today?” He wonders, breaking the shell of silence; a tentative thing carried through the space of the Sept, a ripple on a calm pool. And though he delivers the query with all intentions of seriousness, you cannot help the small blushing of warmth that floods your cheeks at his recalling of yesterday’s spite.

The gods don’t listen.

You crack the first smile, toothless and small – but he almost eagerly follows suit; and in the small grins shared between you, there is a breath of peace.

“Not any more than they have before, I’m afraid.” You affirm, brushing invisible dust from your sleepgown; it is only when his eyes dip over your frame do you register the cloak you still don, its embroidered sigils of red and black upon the nape of your neck and boyish scent still clinging in the aftermath of the dampened path to the Sept.

You have made no motion to rise to him; though he indeed, still as a pole, has remained without effort to sink to you either, and so you stare up at him. Jacaerys clears his throat, eyes flicking to the two lit candles before you and back to your gaze. “I’d hoped you’d send for me when you woke.” He whispers, some kind of warmth blossoming upon his cheeks.

You watch the flush stain his skin with some assurance; a live boy stands before you, swaying upon his feet, hands perched upon the pommel of a sword and eyes lit with some hesitant kind of hope. You nod absently, “I didn’t much feel like being poked and prodded.”

You’d meant by Maester Gerardys; though in a moment, you see something almost like amusement reflect in Jacaerys’ eyes – though he nods, concealing his dimpled grin and a small laugh. “I cannot hold you to blame for that.”

In the silence, a gap of beamed gray sunlight finds his tresses; and streaks across one amber eye of his, melting in warmth as he watches you warily. You swallow down the part of you that blossoms at a face so beautifully made, and you wonder how he sees you now.

“Why do you come?” His question strikes you once more in the quiet walls.

Perhaps a Septa crosses the way – though your sights are anchored on Jacaerys and his wandering tongue as he glances towards the stony faces staring down at you. He, with an absent voice, continues: “If it’s not for them?”

You swallow hard, fingers knotted like roots within your lap. A ruminating silence, until your voice finds its quiet whisper. “The chains of faith are not so easily cast aside, I suppose.”

His gaze follows your own to the statue of the Mother, looming before you; a shift upon his boots as rainwater slides down the leather to kiss the stone floor.

“And I know here no one will disturb me.” You add as an afterthought, some attempt at humour in the dreary silence, “Some say this Sept is gathering dust these days.”

Your words achieve their desired effect: The prince gives you one of those rare smiles, hands held in some mocking surrender. “I am not some.” He defends; to which you nod with a rare smile of your own.

“No, you are not, Jacaerys.”

It comes much warmer from your lips than expected – the moment passes thickly between you. A rusty memory, to converse so casually with each other – a talent perhaps still being honed, though you feel a birth of warmth in his presence, against the shell of cold that this day has woken.

Still he steps closer, hesitant in footing but deliberate in air, and you tilt your head, curious. “Still,” he speaks, “I hope you might… Let me join you.”

In the moment following, his gaze flickers to the altar; then rises uncertain back to you. His words are awkward, falling hesitantly from his lips, yet still genuine; with their insistence strikes within you a tenderness that must have been absent for far too long. An effort.

“You wish to pray?” you wonder, brows suspended in your surprise.

He merely nods, fidgeting with the edge of his sleeve; a boyish vision despite the burden of his station weighing around him – and your heart skips.

“If you’d show me how,” he says, quieter yet; and a half step towards the altar so that you are nearly in line, you on your knees and he wavering in his height. “I’ve never been quite… good enough at it. Septa used to take me by the ear and scold me when I was young.”

It’s a memory faint but easily recalled in your mind – Jacaerys and Lucerys, with youthful smirks plotting across the altar. A shove, a snort concealed in hands folded to prayer – a pious posture from you, though your eyes flickered so often to their whispered snickers, pressing your lips together when the Septas struck across the back of their heads.

You take in the sincerity of his expression, the slightly placated feeling that has spread from the rare childhood memory so lacking in strife; and how he stands before you, as if asking permission for something far more intimate than prayer.

Slowly, you incline your head, gesturing for him to kneel beside you. “Alright, then. Come.” You instruct shakily.

The sword lies first upon the stone; then comes the sinking of his knees, slow to drop; you resist a squirm, the sight of him joining you sending a quiet warmth through your chest.

It is quiet when he finds himself knelt aside you, hands loose and lips bitten. His tunic brushes your cloak – though you piously fold your hands, looking forward once more if only to avoid the heat that has inconspicuously grown upon your cheeks.

A beat, then two. Slowly, through a glance, his hands fold like yours, though they shake in the reflection of the dreary sunbeams.

Outside, the rain ravages the walls; your breaths fall in quiet releases, echoing each other in the dust.

“I’m not sure what to say,” his voice is rough as it interrupts the silence; a cascade of shivers involuntarily tumble down the ridges of your spine. You’re struck with some spare memory of hands, warm against the line of your back as sleep took you last night; hands that have taken their own time to slide over planes of goose-prickled skin, that have held, and wished, and reached.

Your eyes fall to the candles, unable to meet the gaze searing into your profile – it strikes you, the peculiar kindness of it; the bittersweet, stilted understanding that ties your heart to his own.

There is that lingering feeling – that knowledge that, should last night have gone peacefully instead and you’d woken to Elina with comb in hand, Jacaerys would not be here; But still, he’d still have such warm, open eyes – such pouted lips, such a face carved by worry and patience. A change, rung through the effort made to be by your side; You scrub the thought from your mind and clear your throat.

“I often start with a blessing,” you whisper into the air before you, “These days, it’s been for the realm.” At this, he says nothing; harboring a rather absent stare into the flickering candles.

His hand drifts to the light; and soon, it wavers with the flickering flame of an incense stick. His hand suspends, hovering in apprehension, but then his voice comes in a quieted whisper. “For the realm,” he echoes your words.

You do not dare glance at him; though in the corner of your vision sits his profile, softened by the gentle glow of flame and backlit in the torrential gray leaking from outside. Vulnerability drips from plush lips as he moulds over the words he endeavors to speak; and a moment of silence yourself as you shift, the emptiness in your chest warmed by the presence of his heat.

He whispers his prayer quietly, and you do not wish to impose; you remain beside him, blinking hard against the rising guilt that crawls up your throat, that reminds you of soft girlish smiles and gentle boyish laughs.

You do not hear his words, but you feel the gentle rumble of them from his chest to your own as you begin a silent whisper of prayer, Elina’s name falling from your lips.

And then comes the song of your voices, hushed and solemn in the Sept; it is in its way just as similar, just as reverent to choruses sung by your lips shared in the past – though for instances much different than now.

“–For those I’ve failed,” his voice washes into your consciousness, head bowed low and words whispered for none other to hear. Your eyes open at this; pulled from the depths of your own swirling grief, your head bowed in a beat of regret and vision flashing with a blue lamb, submerged in the cold sea.

Palms, damp and shaky, press to the stone altar. Your eyes find his, open and wettened with memory; it strikes your heart. “Now, I’d pray for the future,” Your voice, so quiet, faint. “That it might be more… kind than the past.”

His swallow is silent, but you see his chest expand with a breath. The air, so heavy in the weight of shared grief. “For the future,” he echoes once more; and his gaze, though still fixed on the flickering candles, seems distant – seeking out a vision only he can see.

His tongue swipes over his parted lips, brows furrowed in a soft emotion; you cast your gaze to the candles burning before you. He hesitates, his voice faltering before it firms again, quiet still in the empty Sept. “That I might be worthy of it. Of the realm, and–” His voice tapers off only momentarily. “ –And of those who are beside me.”

It is in the breath that his small confession catches your breath almost imperceptibly; your chest tightens at his struggling tension of jaw, of that countenance so often set with the sternness of duty.

There is a softening in his glance to the side, not nearly reaching you, but perhaps trying – something so close to vulnerability that it makes your heart lurch.

His gaze meets yours after a final moment, and in them you see your own reflection, your own yearning heart that beats against the restraints of awkwardness, of regret, of grief and of disdain.

His gaze is yours, and it feels like it has been for some time.

“That’s–” Your voice comes choked, uneven; you take a moment to gather yourself once more, cheeks flaring as you hold his stare. “A noble thing to wish for.”

The tension between you hums into the heavy silence of the Sept. You should look away — ought to, even — but you don’t; for it is a miraculous thing, to gaze into one’s eyes and feel yourself stare back.

Perhaps his hands fall first, but yours fall just after – and in the silence, your heart slams in your throat, mind hazy with the feeling of being seen and known. A furrow, gentle and longing, of his brow as he watches you; a ghost of his hand upon your arm, trailing along the cloak’s embroidered sleeve.

Perhaps you lean first, or perhaps he does.

It is not until your breath brushes his lips and his warms your own that you give in to the ache in your breast; And it is clumsy when your mouth finds his own. A kiss born not of passion but of some grief, some shared loss, some unbearable weight of what cannot be undone and what looms in the weight of crowns upon your heads and a war of fire and blood upon the weeping horizon.

There is some hesitancy that, if ever before, has grown between you; a soft caress of his neck with your quaking palm, a warm presence of his hand upon your hip, turning you towards his kiss. Your hands grasp without thought, without purpose – a search for life in a crumbling plane of ruin.

Salt upon your tongue, your nose slides upon his own; a fragile solace, this connection is.

But the haze of such vulnerable intimacy is dissolved in a breath: Jacaerys stills completely, and his warmth is gone from you in the very next moment.

“Jace,” You murmur as he shakes his head gently; a wet gaze between you, though you’re unsure whose it is. Perhaps both. “No,” His voice is strained in that quiet, pained way you recall – from early days finally released from your cell below the castle, from nights when the agony persisted in heated glares and serpent tongues.

He does not look at you before he rises, movements slow, deliberate – and you take the moment to gather your own mind, to swallow down the rush of surrealism that has fallen into lead upon your stomach. Seven stony faces watch you as you rise beside your betrothed at the altar, a slump in your shoulders that mirrors his own.

“I shouldn’t have,” He admits, shaking his head as his hand tentatively grasps your own; his palm is moistened with the tremble of regret, and you swallow down whatever stab of guilt rushes up your throat. A squeeze in return; a flush of embarrassment upon your cheeks as the remnants of his lips linger upon your own in some dizzying breath.

You shake your head as you brush nonexistent dust from your nightdress. “I shouldn’t have, I-”

“Please,” He murmurs; a plea, true and genuine – and he tugs your hand just so. “I am sorry.”

It is surprising to see such earnesty from him, though his words bring about a warmth to your chest. It goes unspoken, as so often things between you do – now is not a time for such recklessness; and though Jacaerys might perhaps be a sole comfort while the world weeps, you know now is not the time to escape in such securities.

Your nod is gentle, as is the kiss you deliver to his warm cheeks. They grow even more red in the absence of your lips.

“It's alright,” You agree, clearing your throat at the sudden memory of his lips, plump and warm, against your own.

Though with his words dissolves any distraction you’ve sought in the previous moments: “There is something else,” He explains, “I come with word from the Queen and Daemon.”

Despite his hand in yours, dread welcomes you once more into its embrace.

“They’ve found her?” You wonder; and there once more crashes a bout of anxiety into your ribs. His eyes swim – pity, perhaps, hiding in the folds of gold, of reverence, of verity.

He nods only slightly, eyes searching between your own.

“Yes.”

A breath catches in your throat – some odd angst of mourning for your adversary, then; to the girl she perhaps was before your grandsire wrapped his talons tight around her. Jacaerys lifts his hand, and soon your hair is brushed behind your shoulder.

“You do not need to go.” He promises, “I can have the dragons readied, or tea sent to the library. Or I could have a bath drawn–”

Kind suggestions; though you shake your head sharply, glancing to the Father and then meeting Jace’s stare. “No,” You protest, hand dropping his own to gather yourself. “But will you–” A cleared throat, biting your lip at the pain that echoes through the empty caverns of your chest. The words do not come commonly; an odd thought, some secret in front of the gods - and so you whisper in that tongue you both share. “Kessa ao māzigon lēda nyke?”

Will you come with me?

His lashes tangle in a slow blink, though he acquiesces immediately to your request. “Of course. Hēnkirī.”

Together. Your swallow is thick, and the pit of your stomach eats at you. It is a slow march to prepare your leave; the beating of a heart not your own, faced upon the gates of some shadowy fate – but the hand in yours warm and guiding, and his voice is slow and quiet.

Bells ring in the near distance, and in their warbled way, they sound of wedding bells. Some part of you blossoms reborn, a bud at the first breath of spring after years of winter; Jacaerys sends you a smile, and it is soon mirrored upon your own visage.

Fate is a peculiar thing, yes - but you are relieved that Jacaerys is the name of yours.

And even when you and your betrothed pull up each other's hoods in preparation for the rainfall, you do not realize that you’ve just risen from below the watching shadow of the Stranger. You do not realize that the shrouded figure has watched over your every prayer; and when you turn, you do not notice as its shadow follows the train of your dress.

You do not notice the snuff of the two candles, blown in the wake of your leave - and you do not feel as the Stranger watches you leave the Sept, arm in arm with Jacaerys.

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#a golden cage ; series #holy hell #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys x reader smut #jacaerys velaryon x you #jacaerys velaryon x reader smut #jacaerys velaryon x targ!reader #<- is this ok for filtering unwanted fics yall #jace x reader #jace smut #hotd x reader #hotd smut

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pascaloverx · 3 months ago

Text

BORN TO DIE

Warning: This chapter will contain violence, as well as inappropriate language and adult sexual content. Minors should not read or interact with this chapter or this fanfic.

FIVE SEVEN

SIX (+18)

One thrust after another, while your heart felt like it was going to explode. Prince Aemond had his cock inside you, while you were wrapped around him. Your pussy dripping with pure lust as you let out loud moans in his ear.

"Shout louder, Gundjabo. I want you to be heard. Tell them who truly satisfies you." Prince Aemond whispers in your ear, biting it lightly. Prince Aemond’s voice drips with arrogance, his demand a cruel mix of authority and mockery.Your arms rest on his shoulders, while your nails dig into his back. He moves almost violently in and out of you. His cock deliciously exploring your pussy as if he wanted to make it his home. Your lips meeting his neck, initially making you want to kiss him there, but eventually you sank your teeth into his soft skin. Your teeth sinking into him each time his cock enters you further. It's like you can feel your body throb the deeper he goes.

"I belong to you, Your Highness. Please, punish me for having betrayed you. I deserve to suffer at your hands, ñuha dārilaros." Your voice trembles with submission, laced with a calculated vulnerability as you offer yourself to Prince Aemond, fully aware of the game you're playing. As you say this you feel Aemond smile against your neck as he lies on top of you. Aemond Targaryen's hands run around your body, reaching your ass. With his hands on your buttocks, he squeezes firmly making you gasp as you feel him take over your body. Then he pulled out of you with his cock making you grunt in frustration. Then he brought your legs together, lifting them in the air a little, and without further ado, he penetrated you. You moaned loudly, and then bit your own lip hard.

“That's how you like it, This is how you like to feel my cock, right promiscuous whore?" Prince Aemond speaks as he slowly drags his cock in and out of your pussy while still holding your legs with his arms. No lies, the way he's fucking you is kind of rough but it feels so good that you're lost in your own lust.

“If you wish to please me so greatly, why then do you seek to end my reign?” The voice is familiar, but as you glance up in confusion, it is not Prince Aemond standing before you—it is King Aegon II. His expression is one of unease, and without thought, you embrace him. A sigh of frustration escapes you before you murmur, "You may not remember, but you destroyed me, Your Grace." The words leave your lips with surprising ease, as if this truth had been long buried within you, waiting for this very moment to emerge.

“You tried to destroy me, yet in the end, he will be the one to claim you, laying you to eternal rest,” King Aegon II whispers, his lips brushing softly against yours as tears stream down his face, his arms clinging to you with a desperation that sends a shiver of fear through your body. You don’t understand his words, but the terror rising within you compels you to pull his arms away. As he turns from you, his eyes widen in shock, for before him stands Prince Aemond, mounted upon Vhagar, her immense form looming like a harbinger of fate.

Like a breath of life, you awaken from what was undoubtedly the most bizarre dream you have ever experienced. Disoriented, you find yourself lying in the bed of His Grace, King Aegon II. It appears you had drifted off to sleep unintentionally. The vividness of the dream still lingers in your mind, leaving you with a sense of unease. King Aegon II is asleep after a tireless night of fucking you. But his drowsiness isn't just because he ate you, but because he was drunk.

"Helaena, return to bed," King Aegon II murmurs, his eyes barely open as he gazes at you, his voice thick with sleep. He seems unaware of the reality, mistaking you for his wife in his half-conscious state. His hand touches your bare back, then starts to caress your breasts in sequence, almost abruptly.

"I must go, Your Grace. I do not wish to disturb your rest," you reply, neither denying nor confirming his assumption. His hand continues to trace over your bare skin until, at last, he seems to regain full awareness. His touch retreats from you in an instant. Knowing you should leave, you begin to dress, but before you can finish, he rises from the bed, seizing your arm and pulling you back to him. The tension lingers in the air as you feel his grip tighten, keeping you from escaping so easily.

"Do you think you're already carrying a child?" King Aegon II murmurs with unsettling candor, as though asking something entirely mundane. You're taken aback by his persistence, still fixated on the notion of getting you with child. Internally, you hope desperately that he will let go of this idea, though his words echo in the stillness, a grim reminder of the precarious position you're in.

"I fail to see how that would be of any use to Your Grace. After all, should there be a fruit of our union growing within me, it would serve you no purpose," you reply cautiously, your voice tinged with apprehension as you brace yourself for the king's reaction. You know well how unpredictable Aegon II can be, and the thought of provoking his wrath sends a chill through you, yet the words escape your lips with measured care.

"If Helaena refuses to restore Jaehaerys to me, someone must. My son, Prince of the Seven Kingdoms... my only heir. You will give him back to me, and I shall offer you something in return. Not that you have much choice in the matter, for I am your King." His gaze, already dark, seemed to deepen further, his voice laden with a dangerous intensity. You noticed his fingers gripping each other with unsettling force, as though teetering on the edge of madness. You blinked several times, trying to fully comprehend the weight of his words, uncertain if you had truly understood his demand.

"Your Grace, no one can return Prince Jaehaerys to you. I understand the need to fill the void left by him, but I am not your wife. It is with her that you must produce your heirs. With me, you may find the pleasures of the flesh and a loyal servant. I shall fight for your claim to the throne, but I will not bear bastards who serve no purpose for you."

You know well the treacherous path you tread with such words, especially in a moment as intimate as this. King Aegon II sighs, a heavy weight in his breath, before murmuring with bitter disappointment, "You deny me something you would so easily give to my brother." King Aegon II repeats this mutter a few times, transitioning from disappointed to angry as he approaches you. Even though he's naked and almost tripping, finds the strength to slap you in the face. The slap is strong enough to make you fall to the ground, feeling the burning sensation in the place where King Aegon II hit you.

"You think I do not see that it is him you desire?" Aegon II lets out a wicked laugh, his gaze burning into you as you lay on the floor. He kneels beside you, gripping your face tightly between his hands.

"I never wished to be with anyone but you, my King," you say, your voice trembling, as if trying to convince both yourself and him. The words come out faintly, your strength still fading from the force of your fall.

"Liar!" Aegon II bellows, his voice thundering as he releases your face and paces around you with restless fury. After pacing angrily around the room, Aegon II hastily donned part of his clothing and stormed out, leaving the door slamming in his wake. Slowly, you manage to rise from the floor, every movement weighed down by the burden of your choices. Your lip aches, and the faint taste of blood lingers in your mouth. Expecting something far worse to befall you, you feel the hot sting of tears slipping down your cheeks, unbidden. You should be accustomed to such treatment, after all, you grew up knowing cruelty. Yet, there are some wounds that cut deeper than others.

"Take her away. Summon Prince Aemond, so that he is made fully aware of what will become of his whore. Then, I want both of them in the throne room. Perhaps this will make it clear who truly rules here." You hear King Aegon II’s voice echo as his guards burst into the room. Their grip on you is harsh, dragging you out with merciless force. A part of you, filled with seething anger, longs to protest—perhaps even to call your King a pitiful madman. Yet another part of you is weary, worn from speaking without considering the consequences that always follow.

When you are thrown at the foot of the Iron Throne, your body—already tender and bruised—feels too feeble to resist the guards’ brutality. You stare at the throne, a puzzle that now seems beyond solving, as if it were mocking you. Death, you think, might be a mercy. If you die, all will be over. The guards leave the throne room, and you are left to ponder what fate lies ahead.

Then, with an extravagant stride, Prince Aemond Targaryen enters the room. You glance over your shoulder to confirm it is truly him. He walks with a sword at his side, his steps slow and deliberate, as if he is reveling in this moment—commanding attention with every step, his presence impossible to ignore.

"Gundjabo, what have you done to bring us here? Please tell me this is all a misunderstanding. I was interrupted amidst something of great importance," Aemond says impatiently, sighing as he stands beside you. You, lacking the will to rise, look up at him, your gaze steady as you murmur, "Do not concern yourself. You are merely here to witness my death, nothing more. And, since I am to die, I’ll admit something—I think you, Your Highness, are a monumental waste of potential." A chuckle escapes your lips as you witness the outrage that flashes across his face at your words. He crouches down to your level, his eye dark with fury as he tries to comprehend your insolence.

"How dare you speak so casually to me? Have you forgotten who you are? I could kill you for such insolence," Aemond growls, his face inches from yours, his breath hot against your skin as he grips your hair with deliberate force. You laugh softly, your gaze unwavering, meeting his with surprising calm.

"When you look at me, Your Highness, do you see someone afraid of death? By the gods, my end is already upon me. Worry not," you reply, your tone indifferent, as though death were merely a passing inconvenience. Your nonchalance only stokes Aemond’s anger further. With a fierce gleam in his eye, he unsheathes his sword, the cold steel glinting ominously as he holds it before you, clearly intending to frighten you. But before he can act, the heavy doors to the throne room swing open, and in strides King Aegon II, fully dressed and composed. Without uttering a single word, he crosses the room with a regal air and ascends the Iron Throne, seating himself with an imperious silence, casting a shadow over the tense scene unfolding before him.

"Before the ruler of the Seven Kingdoms stand his brother and the whore," King Aegon II declares, his voice resonating with authority that fills the throne room. "Correct me if I am mistaken, but as sovereign, my word must reign supreme. Yet you both have dared to disregard it. My brother challenges me by believing I am too naïve to perceive the bond that exists between him and his erstwhile companion." He pauses, surveying both of you with a steely gaze, as if weighing your fates.

"He informed me prior to making this whore the rider of one of the most powerful dragons that, as sovereign, I would possess her. Yet, upon their arrival, he exhibited dominance over her. I can only conclude that her refusal to concede to my desires suggests that Prince Aemond is under the sway of her very own common sense. Thus, I see no better or more entertaining solution than to have you both engage in combat against one another." King Aegon II’s voice resonates through the throne room, each word dripping with authority and malice, as he awaits the reaction of both the prince and the woman at his feet.

"You mean to tell me that you, Your Grace, in the midst of war, wish for two dragonriders to battle each other until the more skilled prevails, merely to prove a point? Brother, your talents as a ruler grow ever more impressive. But as you will." Prince Aemond speaks with an ironic, almost mocking expression, as though his brother were a fool. At least someone had the audacity to challenge the King. Aemond extended his hand toward you, while removing his sword from his waist and casting it aside to a distant corner of the throne room.

"Gundjabo, sīmagon. Pāsagon bē aōha dārilaros," Aemond says as he stares at Aegon, who appears confused, almost as if he doesn’t understand. And then you realize. He doesn’t know what Prince Aemond has just said to you, so he will believe in whatever performance you both deliver. The fact that the prince wanted to warn you must mean he knows it would be a waste of time to kill you when you are still relevant to the war. Without hesitation, you take your combatant’s hand, rising to fight. You are at peace with the consequences of your actions, for this is the moment when you look determinedly at your opponent. Something within you—a power—grows. Perhaps it is the courage of those whose fate is sealed, but as you prepare to attack Prince Aemond, you feel an overwhelming strength take hold of you.

At first glance, your instinct is to go after Prince Aemond without delay. He is well-prepared to receive your attack, and as your fist nearly connects with him, he smiles with amusement, watching you stumble, nearly falling to the ground without landing a blow. As you are almost lying on the ground you feel Prince Aemond kick you. The impact is so great that it feels like there is something burning inside you when you feel his kick.

"Brother, don't go easy on her!" King Aegon II shouts at the top of his voice, watching the two of you fight. As Prince Aemond advances toward you again, you quickly drop to the ground, grabbing his leg and pulling it out from under him, taking him by surprise. In a swift moment, still recalling the dream you had, you bite him. Sinking your teeth into the exposed part of Prince Aemond’s leg, despite his efforts to shake you off. The taste of his blood in your mouth confirms that you’ve bitten deep enough. Exhausted from the struggle, you finally release his leg, only to hear him shout a string of curses as he pulls back slightly. It's the moment that you take the opportunity to get up from the ground and recover. Prince Aemond is still rumbling when you get on his back. You hold your arms tightly around his neck, suffocating him a little more every second. He throws his head back as hard as he can, leaving you disoriented. With such force, you end up letting go of Prince Aemond and stumbling in sequence, falling to the ground. You feel your lip burn as you try to compose yourself, but Prince Aemond is on top of you before you can get up.

"Don't resist, gundjabo." Aemond's eyes darken somehow as his hands wrap around your neck, you stare at each other as you gasp for air as his fingers slip into your skin more strongly. Then you try to spread your legs wide enough to wrap Aemond around you. Your hands trying to feel his body to find in his clothes a small dagger that you saw him keep before. It's hard to do this while you're losing your breath but you force his body even closer to yours and finally reach the damn dagger. You manage to take the dagger from the compartment in His Highness's clothing and then hold it against his neck. This is the second time this has happened between you two in some way, but this time it seems Prince Aemond is pleased that you have succeeded.

"Kill him!" King Aegon II's voice echoes through the chamber as he sits on the Iron Throne. Surely, you must have misheard—His Grace wouldn't command you to kill his own brother.

"Come now, whore. If there is no attachment between you and Prince Aemond, kill him. Prove to your King that you speak the truth," he commands, watching as you hold the dagger firmly against Aemond. Prince Aemond seems to mask his surprise at his brother's words, though it is clear he did not expect such a command. If he so wished, he could have suffocated you by now—just as you, with a single motion, could slit his throat without hesitation.

"Your Grace, one of the dragons is out of control! The beast has devoured three dragonkeepers and is nearly upon your dragon!" A guard bursts into the Throne Room, his voice filled with terror. He freezes at the sight of the scene before him—the tense confrontation between you and Prince Aemond, unsure whether to proceed or retreat in fear.

With just a glance, it is as though you and Prince Aemond silently agree that there is no further need to attack one another, for Aegon II’s attention will soon be claimed by the conflict among the dragons. As you release each other, Prince Aemond collapses beside you, lying on the floor for a few moments, his breathing heavy and labored. Yet the realization strikes you almost instantly—the dragon causing the chaos could very well be yours.

"What dragon is attacking Sunfyre? Tell me at once, you fool!" King Aegon II shouts, his voice laced with concern; it is likely because his dragon serves as his safe haven. You rise alongside Prince Aemond, still feeling the imprint of his fingers around your neck, while you watch the guard nearly faint from fear.

"The beast with green eyes and black scales. The dragon that Your Grace recently tamed. It has been restless for some time now, as if growing agitated. I fear it may attack Sunfyre at any moment," the guard speaks, his voice trembling with anxiety. King Aegon II rises hastily from the Iron Throne, urgency driving him as he prepares to confront the dragons.

"Your Grace, allow me to be of service. I shall calm Cannibal, ensuring that no harm befalls him. In doing so, I can prove my worth to you." You speak with barely any strength, slowly approaching King Aegon II, who hesitates, shaking his head as if reluctant to accept your proposal. Surprisingly, he looks to his brother, seeking counsel or reassurance.

"Let her go to Cannibal. At worst, he will kill her, which would resolve your predicament without further complication," Aemond remarks with cold indifference. Naturally, he would be willing to risk your life to safeguard the dragons. Both Aegon and Aemond rely on Cannibal and require him to remain calm and under control. It is little wonder, then, that for these past weeks you have served not only as King Aegon II's concubine but also as the tamer of his dragon—or rather, the King's dragon.

"How easily you become helpful when it concerns this harlot, dear brother. You failed to eliminate her. She, in turn, has disobeyed my authority as King and failed to kill you," Aegon declares, his tone sharp. "Now, it falls to both of you to handle the dragon. In times of war, it is well to remember that I am the King. I rule the Seven Kingdoms. Fear me, obey me, and seek to satisfy only me. This applies to all—every one of you," he reaffirms, clearly seeking to belittle you while humiliating his brother. It is evident that Prince Aemond is seething, his irritation manifesting in the way he clenches his fists, squeezing his own hand with force.

"Mēre eglives ajorrāelagon zȳhon dohaeriros baelagon. Of course, Your Grace, we shall ensure the dragon causes no further hindrance," Prince Aemond responds with irreverence, before seizing your arm and dragging you from the throne room. He all but carries you through the halls of the Red Keep, his expression a mix of impatience, anger, and something undeniably captivating.

There is something in the wild swing of his hair, in the way his hand grips your arm with a firm yet skilled touch. Perhaps it’s the manner in which he disregards anything you might have to say as he leads you toward the dragonpit, his focus entirely set on the task at hand. You and Prince Aemond enter the dragon pit, drawn by the sight of Cannibal spewing fire at the dragonkeepers, clearly agitated. Without hesitation, Prince Aemond instinctively throws you toward the enraged beast, as if you were nothing more than a plaything—or a fine meal. Cannibal’s attention immediately shifts to you as you lie on the ground for what feels like the fourth or fifth time today. Rising now seems perilous, as you feel the dragon's hot breath wash over you. His enormous head draws closer, each exhale burning the air around you, while you remain perfectly still, unsure if any movement might provoke your doom.

"Lykirī, Cannibal. Ao issi ȳgha. Nyke kesīr." It is the most you can manage to say amidst your nerves. You had hoped to sound more decisive, but your voice trembles with fear. From behind, you hear Prince Aemond chuckle, clearly amused by the pitiful scene you are creating.

No sooner have the words left your lips than Cannibal unleashes a stream of fire toward where Prince Aemond stands. Then, to your astonishment, the massive beast gently withdraws, lowering his head onto your body as if seeking comfort or protection, leaving you both shocked and strangely relieved beneath the weight of his skull.

"The dragon has chosen me; there is nothing you can do to change that. The question you must ask yourselves is whether you wish to start an unnecessary battle, one that will surely result in the death of a dragon. Cannibal is ready for war, whichever form it takes. Look at the damage he has already wrought," you say, your voice measured as you try to control your breathing, still feeling the weight of Cannibal's skull resting upon you. Sensing your struggle beneath him, the dragon slowly lifts his head, releasing a deep roar that echoes through the pit. He moves deliberately toward Prince Aemond, who remains motionless, his eyes locked on the approaching beast.

"And what is it you desire in exchange for keeping your dragon under control?" Prince Aemond murmurs, his voice low, still fixated on Cannibal, who now stands before him, as though determined to intimidate. The dragon roars directly in front of the prince, as if toying with him, testing the boundaries of his royal composure. Aemond’s words are laced with quiet menace, his gaze unwavering as he confronts both you and the mighty beast. His question hangs in the air, the tension between you, the prince, and Cannibal palpable, as though the dragon himself waits to see how you will respond.

"I do not wish to bear the bastard children of your brother. Nor do I desire to be regarded as nothing more than a common whore. I care not if I am used for carnal pleasures, but if my existence in this place means I must constantly prove my loyalty and intentions, then it would be better for you to kill me now," you declare, your voice steady despite the gravity of your words.

The weight of your ultimatum lingers, as Cannibal stands close by, his presence adding to the tension. You meet Prince Aemond's gaze, unflinching, making it clear that you refuse to be reduced to a pawn in their power games without being recognized for more.

"You will never be more than a bastard whore to us," Prince Aemond declares, his eyes cold as they sweep over both you and Cannibal. His words are sharp, meant to wound, a reminder of your status in their world. Yet, even as he speaks, the looming presence of the dragon beside you challenges his defiance, a silent testament to the power you now hold—whether he wishes to acknowledge it or not.

"I will kill you for your insolence. You can be certain of that, gundjabo," Prince Aemond snarls, his voice dripping with fury as he watches you climb onto Cannibal’s wing, settling into the saddle. His expression is one of pure rage, his vengeful intent unmistakable. The frustration in his eyes is clear—he is powerless without Vhagar, who rests outside the dragonpit, leaving him to watch as you ascend with Cannibal. A twisted smile curls on his lips, though, as if savoring the thought of eventual retribution, even as you prepare for flight atop the mighty beast.

"I shall eagerly await the day you kill me, Your Highness. But for now, my dragon and I shall depart, in search of a way to prove our loyalty to the crown and King Aegon II. Kill me when you see fit, but spare me your empty threats, ñuha dārilaros." Your voice is steady and clear, designed to provoke Prince Aemond, hoping to put an end to his attacks and perhaps those of Aegon as well. Your dragon will be your key to securing whatever peace remains for you.

You give a sly smile as you watch Prince Aemond grumble in frustration, his eyes filled with murderous intent. "Sōvegon, Cannibal!" you command, and with a powerful movement, Cannibal shifts toward the exit of the dragonpit. Moments later, you soar into the skies above King’s Landing, leaving Aemond behind, his rage simmering below.

Cannibal’s mighty wings beat against the air, carrying both of you higher into the skies, the connection between dragon and rider strengthening with each moment. Below, the common folk stir in anxiety, likely fearing the very presence of Cannibal and the threat of a looming battle. You continue your flight, losing yourself in the vast expanse of the sky, unafraid of the dangers that might lurk on the side of Princess Rhaenyra. But then, your fear materializes as you near what appears to be a group of King Aegon II’s knights. They run, terrified, toward the trees, their panic evident. And then you see her—a young girl, bold and fearless, flying directly toward the knights atop her dragon. The beast is beautiful, though clearly still young.

A laugh escapes your lips without thought as you watch Cannibal, sensing the challenge, surge forward with terrifying grace, setting his sights on the younger dragon. As the winds whip around you, you understand—victory lies not in fear, but in power.

"One's greatest strength is revealed not by what they flee from, but by what they choose to face." You mutter, holding on tight to Cannibal's saddle as he goes straight for the other dragon's neck, sinking his teeth into it, taking both the poor dragon and its young rider by surprise. The noises of pain made by the other dragon make you feel sorry for him.

"Angōs, Moondancer," the young girl commands, her voice sharp as her dragon struggles in vain to fend off Cannibal. The sight is pitiful, yet Cannibal’s power is unmatched, and Moondancer’s attempts grow weaker by the second.

"You will regret this," the girl spits out in fury, her eyes blazing as they lock onto you. "My family will not allow you to escape unpunished for this." Her words are filled with defiance, but you had been too engrossed in the battle of the dragons to even notice her presence until now.

"Tell your family of what is about to happen. If you survive, warn them. There is a new dragon at King Aegon II's side, and he has quite the appetite for others of his kind. Surrender while you still can." Your voice is soft, almost unnervingly calm, as if you aren’t witnessing your dragon mercilessly tearing into hers mid-air. The girl clings to her dragon desperately, struggling to maintain her balance as Moondancer falters beneath Cannibal's relentless onslaught, her life hanging by a thread as they battle high above the ground.

"Who are you?" the girl screams in frustration, likely sensing the hopelessness of her dragon’s fate. Just before she can release herself and attempt to escape death, you decide to reveal something to her—something you have told no one else. Perhaps it is your confidence, or your arrogance, that leads you to believe she won’t survive this battle, and your little secret will die with her.

"I am the one who will rewrite the story of this war," you say, your voice low but certain. "A rider of Cannibal, and a servant to no man. Not Aegon, not Aemond. This war is but the beginning, and neither of us will leave it unchanged. But you, little rider, you won’t live to see that end."

"But more precisely, I am the daughter of some common whore and King Viserys. But don't spread it around. It has been a great pleasure to battle briefly with you. My advice is to learn to make wiser decisions. However, if you wish to continue being reckless, it would be my pleasure to defeat you again," you say, a smirk playing on your lips as you watch the girl's expression shift from frustration to disbelief.

With that, you turn your attention back to the chaos unfolding around you, Cannibal's power surging as he relishes his victory. The weight of your revelation lingers in the air, a secret kept in the heart of the storm.

"Irughagon zaldrīzes. Sīr!" you command, but it is too late. Cannibal, with all his fury, has already latched onto the young dragon, sinking his teeth into the creature’s flesh, dragging it down from the sky. The girl, whoever she may be, had the sense to release herself from the saddle just in time, plummeting through the air as her dragon is pulled beneath Cannibal’s crushing grip. You watch the scene unfold, feeling the force of the battle below you. Cannibal’s strength is unmatched, and it is clear that no mercy will be shown to the younger dragon. All that remains is whether the rider will survive her fall.

With his claws deeply embedded in the young dragon, Cannibal shows no mercy, swiftly eliminating his prey. True to his name, he feasts upon the younger creature, a brutal display of his ferocity. It is as if he is reconnecting with his true nature, embracing the raw violence that defines him. And as he shares this moment with you, the bond between dragon and rider intensifies, deepening with each savage act. The taste of blood and victory fills the air, and for both of you, this is only the beginning. War is upon you, and now, the true battle begins.

GLOSSARY

Gundjabo - Prostitute

Ñuha Dārilaros - My Prince

Sīmagon - Rise

Pāsagon - Trust or believe

Bē - On

Aōha - Your

Mēre - One

Eglives - Highness

Ajorrāelagon - Need

Zȳhon - His

Dohaeriros - Servant

Baelagon - Help

Lyrirī - Calm down

Ao - You

Issi - Is

ȳGha - Safe

Nyke - I

KesīR - Here

SōVegon - Fly

Angōs - Attack

Irughagon - Release

Zaldrīzes - Dragon

Sīr- Now

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madame-fear · 6 months ago

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Hello can I order CAPUCCINO (modernAU!lucerys x reader, headcanons about their have their first time and they get cought by Nyra 🙂‍↔️)

Sorry for my english <3

𐙚 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐁𝐘 𝐍𝐘𝐑𝐀 𝐃𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 | 𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍.ᐟ𝐋𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐂𝐒.

ೀ amira speaks.ᐟ : sweetie don’t you even worry about your English ! it’s not my first language either, yours is perfect ♡ thank you for ordering, hope you enjoy it ! ˗ˏˋ ꒰ summary : requests above. ♡

˗ˏˋ ꒰ genre : headcanons, some smut, fluff. ˗ˏˋ ꒰ pairing : Modern!Lucerys Velaryon x (fem!)Reader

WARNING.ᐟ THIS FIC CONTAINS ; mentions of smut, nsfw content. your first time together, a bit of vanilla sex. Luke is 18. you guys know the drill. *wink wink*

꒰ check out my 3k followers coffee shop event ! ꒱

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐 Having known each other for years, that certain chemistry between Luke and you had always remained— to which, it was of no surprise to anyone when you began dating. Lots of “finally!” were heard during your dating announcement.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐 What is of no surprise either, is Luke’s eternal shyness around you. Yes, he had grown more confident & less meek with the years, and the more time you spent together— but his timidness only intensified when you started your relationship.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐 Soft lingering touches come and go with him. Delicate hand holding, affectionate kisses & caresses, tight embraces... And, often, you can feel his hand resting on your thigh, stroking your skin with his fingertips.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐 Though, in the end, sweet boy will always remove his hand from there, and mutter a feeble “sorry”.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐 Expect this to happen more than once. If he’s already shy doing sweet, cute little things with you, imagine him trying to go further in your relationship. Mostly, it’s not only because he’s too embarrassed to even bring up the topic of having intimacy together, but as well, Luke would be too frightened of accidentally making you feel uncomfortable.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐It’s not as you would feel uncomfortable, of course, but he wouldn’t want to risk it. As a young couple, both of you can’t help but feel slight awkwardness when it comes to more intimate topics.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐 When the time finally came, it hadn’t really been spoken beforehand. The moment flowed rather smoothly, while you were both on his room sitting on his bed, and you were supposed to casually be talking together... But then, one kiss that was given to you, naturally lead to several more fervent kisses.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐 One of his hands cupped your cheek, as the other one travelled to your waist, slipping his fingers beneath your shirt to caress your skin and explore it further. Tilting slightly his head at the same time you did, Luke deepened the kiss— groaning gently against your lips.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐 Gently, you laid with your back against the bed, as his body pressed itself firmly against your own; managing to be on top of you. Occasionally, Luke pulled away from your lips briefly, allowing both of you to catch some air as you groaned and panted needily— before rapidly pressing your lips against his own once again.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐 Being the most gentle, loving young boy ever, Luke would pause for a brief moment, pulling away from your lips. “Are you comfortable with this? Would you like to continue?” you’d hear him inquire in between pants— his lips travelling all across your neck, placing soft kisses.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐 Your answer was an immediate yes without thinking twice, making a proud grin grow widely at the corner of his rosy lips. And so, the action began.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐 Trembling hands lowered each other’s trousers, along underwear as you fervently kissed. Wetness dripped out of you leisurely, feeling the cold breeze of the atmosphere cause you slight shivers.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐 The mere sight of your exposed wetness provoked him to get even harder, if it was any more possible at the current point— feeling his leaking tip poking against your aching entrance needily, as your legs interwined themselves on top of his back.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐 Continuing to lock his lips with your own, faintly groaning against them as his hands firmly held your hips in place, Luke pushed himself gently inside of you; the tip of his shaft beginning to stretch your inner walls.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐Nibbling on your lower lip, holding back a loud groan from escaping your throat, one of your hands clawed it’s nails on his back, as the other one interwined it’s fingers in between messy strands of his hair.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐 A tear managed to escape from your eye, initially feeling a slightly painful, burning sensation as Luke entered inside you carefully, but he kissed your tears away.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐 His movements were slow and gentle, adapting to your comfort. And as soon as you had given him the green light to continue & thrust faster— he immediately complied to every single word of yours. The sensation of your inner walls tightening around his member was such a satisfying sensation, unlike any other he had experienced; helplessly increasing the pace in which he thrusted. But...

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐 The door was widely opened in an abrupt manner, much to your surprise. “Oh my God, sorry,” you both would hear his mother mutter in surprise, causing your eyes to immediatly widen as you craned your head towards the door.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐 Rhaenyra would immediatly look elsewhere, slightly closing further the door. She had forgotten to knock, so seeing both of you in such a compromising situation was rather... Shocking. “We’ll all need to have a talk about this downstairs, now.” she would say.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐 She has never been much of a rigid, strict mother— but naturally, she cares for both of you and your safety. How could none of you asked her anything about intimacy?

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐 Though, of course... Both of you were slightly timid around one another and about these certain topics, plus you were still young. Your hormones were all over the place— she suspected the moment hadn’t been spoken beforehand and it simply flowed naturally. Nyra was right.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐 Much to your luck, after awkwardly getting interrupted and being forced to go downstairs to have a chat with Luke’s mother, Nyra didn’t entirely scold both of you, just a little bit — but overall, she simply inquired you two about why you hadn’t thought about bringing the topic up with her just in case, and gave you some advice for mutual protection.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐 The only bad thing for you, though, was when you noticed that Jace had peeped enough into the conversation— sneering at the sight of your faces being covered in a crimson hue, only worsening your state after he teasing both of you.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐 It had been a rather awkard, but very much needed conversation. None of you couldn’t deny that you actually managed to get some useful information from his mother— knowing how to protect yourself, dos and don’ts, etc.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐 Foe both of you, it felt as if it had been a pretty embarrassing first time, yes. And perhaps it had been embarrassing— but nevertheless, one thing lead to another... With none of you scolded, and being allowed to have intimacy with each other as long as you took care of yourselves.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐 Perhaps, it hadn’t been so bad, after all... You just had to find alone time for yourselves, now.

◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ ` taglist

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#彡 ꒰ ✒ amira writes ; lucerys velaryon.── ꒱#lucerys velaryon x reader #lucerys velaryon x reader smut #modern!hotd #lucerys velaryon x you #hotd smut #hotd x reader #hotd x you #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon smut #house of the dragon x reader smut #hotd x reader smut #hotd x y/n #modern!hotd headcanons #amira’s 3000 followers milestone #꒰ amira’s milestone events.ᐟ ꒱#彡 ꒰ ☕ amira’s coffee shop ; followers milestone event .ᐟ── ꒱

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lady-ashfade · 6 months ago

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–⋆˚˖𓍢Lucerys Velaryon Masterlist⋆˚˖𓍢–

´*: ･ﾟ⋆˒ Welcome back! Thanks for checking me out. ╰Requests for this fandom open

˙⊹Hotd All Masterlist⊹˙ ˙⊹ Rules ⊹˙ ˙⊹Hotd Rules ⊹˙

˚୨୧₊[Your Star In The Sky][dragon fight, nothing making sense, dragon maiden fem reader, not much sense]

˚୨୧₊[Yan!Team Black With Reader Finding Luke In The River][Yandere, manipulation, obsession]

˚୨୧₊[Silver Hair][Yandere, Obsession, possession, yandere tendencies, jealousy, Fem!Reader, and this being short]

˚୨୧₊[Messy Room][Yandere, Stalking, Maid!Fem!Reader, Short]

˚୨୧₊[ Husband!Older!Luke & Pregnant!Reader][Fluffy, short]

˚୨୧₊[Fighting The Storms][Dragon fighting, Your dragon is called Nightshade, Short story]

˚୨୧₊[yandere!lucerys velaryon & rhaena targaryen x maid!fem!reader][Yandere, Obsessive, short, HC’s]

˚୨୧₊[Lord Of The Tides][ targ’cest, lucerys being a bit different because he’s older, he also losses a eye, yandere behavior, slight dark themes, and slight mature themes (sexual), but no smut]

˚୨୧₊[Modern hc’s][Modern au, Fluffy, HC’s]

˚୨୧₊[Keep Quiet, My Prine][Drabble][Short, Lukes First Time Drinking, They Are In Love, Luke Being Drunk.]

˚୨୧₊[The Green Sea][Bakery Event][Jealousy, Luke Being Jealous, Little Angst, Arguing][2.2k]

╰･ﾟ✧☽ Yan!House of the dragon

˚୨୧₊[Say it][Blood,the scene of vaemon dying. swearing. yandere, Fem!reader]

˚୨୧₊Yan!Mother!Alicent targaryen x Crybaby!Fem!Reader. Vs other Yandere house of the dragon characters.

୨୧₊[Day Of Thanks] Yandere, dark, killing & murder.death, blood]

˚୨୧₊[Yandere House Velaryon/House Targaryen x Mermaid!Reader][Yandere, being kinda held captive, yandere behavior]

˚୨୧₊[More Then A Eye][Yandere, blood, reader losses a eye instead, Fem!Reader]

╰･ﾟ✧☽ Series

˚୨୧₊[Pt.1 Hybrid Reader × Yandere HOTD][Yandere, angst. comfort, death, Dragon!Fem!Reader, Blood, Reader in pain]

˚୨୧₊[Pt.2 Hybrid Reader × Yandere HOTDI(Yandere, angst. comfort, death, Dragon!Fem!Reader, Blood.

˚୨୧₊[Preview of- A Dimond Of Blood And Possession] [Preview, Yandere, Vesent!Fem!Reader, Yandere tendencies, child abuse, slaves, killing, blood, obsessive and possessiveness, unhealthy relationships.]

˚୨୧₊[Symbol Reborn] (Yandere behavior: obsession. protective, unhealthy behavior, toxic, death, violence. visions, the hotd world, mini series, un canon events.]

╰･ﾟ✧☽ Random

✵Non yet✵

#house of the dragon x reader #yandere house of the dragon #house of the dragon #yandere house of the dragon x reader #lucaerys velaryon #lucaerys velaryon x reader #lucaerys velaryon x male!reader #yandere lucerys velaryon #yandere lucaerys velaryon x reader #masterlist

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legitalicat · 9 months ago

Text

Sweet Sister (Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader x Jacaerys Velaryon)

AN: Oh gosh guys. I did it. Thank you to @zaldritzosrose for being my workshop partner (I also got the amazing dividers from her) and to my spiritual twin @foxyanon for reading a bit of it when I needed to make sure it was okay. Also this snowballed very hard very fast I am sorry.

Masterlist here!

Summary: It wasn't the fault of them that this was their lot in life. Aemond and YN could only make the best of a marriage they did not particularly want. Yet Jacaerys does not see it as an obstacle. The gods made her for him. She was meant to be his.

TW: Language, characters are over 18, AFAB reader, use of YN in 3rd person pov, use of she/her pronouns, SMUT SMUT SMUT, oral (fem!receiving), a smidge of dry humping, lactation kink, tiddie sucking, masturbation, cuck!Aemond, threesome, Dom!Jacaerys, switch!Aemond (mostly veering on subbing), sub!reader, pregnancy kink, breeding kink, Jace's monster cock, NO DANCE, canon typical Targcest, Jace grinding his cock on Aemond, Jace cumming on Aemond, cum eating, spit, political marriage, Jace kinda teaching Aemond to proper fuck his wife, I think that's all

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon Niece!Reader, Jacaerys Velaryon x younger sister!Reader

Word count: 6.2k

It wasn’t his fault.

It was a thought that lived consistently in her mind in the years since her marriage. Both of them offered to each other’s mother as a solution to the growing rift between them. A marriage made in desperate hopes to avoid an ever looming annihilation.

It was good, she supposed, that it was to a man she was so familiar with. Her Uncle Aemond, while never particularly warm, had always been kind enough. He usually spared her the vitriol he shot at her brothers. Even when making it clear he knew the truth, he was less violent in his hatred. Queen Alicent raised him to be better than that.

A spat between boys here and there was acceptable, expected even. Training together, he got plenty of chance to beat on them, to spill the vile whispers that invaded his ears. Nobody but Ser Harwin ever said anything, but Aemond figured it was only because he was too stupid to pretend as everyone else did.

YN was different. Between his mother and Ser Criston, he knew that every woman was meant to be seen with a certain amount of respect. Despite who her father was, or wasn’t, YN was a princess. She was not like her brothers, who antagonized him at every step. And so he would hold his tongue.

As children, they were polite to each other. If he and the Velaryon boys were arguing, he went quiet when she would walk into the room. He would hold the door for her and in the same motion let it slam on Jacaerys.

It was this politeness that allowed Alicent to see reason. She couldn’t marry her only daughter to one of Rhaenyra’s sons, yet the King made it clear that it was his will their lines would converge. She made a counter offer to Rhaenyra’s, Aemond wed to YN. The Princess of Dragonstone denied for many the same reasons The Queen denied hers. But the Driftmark Incident all but forced her hand if she wished for Lucerys to remain unharmed as a consequence.

He was a good husband to her when they married not long after her coming of age. He stood by her side at court, always keeping her close. Over the moons they spent at each other’s side, a natural affection was felt between them. It may not have been a fairytale romance, but he at least could be counted as her friend. And for a girl who was without her family for the first time in her life, a friend was exactly what she needed.

It wasn’t Aemond’s fault that they were still expected to provide children to their line. They held off as long they could. Yet as they approached two years of marriage, rumors of infertility started hanging over their head. He could not bare to leave his wife to such scrutiny. It was only then they started laying together as husband and wife.

The affection they felt gave a solid foundation for their relationship in the bedroom. It was an awkward beginning in which he would blush every time his hand grazed her breasts and a small squeak would leave her lips when she saw him naked. Aemond, though, was a man of proficiency. He always planned to be the best in everything, the need in him increasing tenfold upon learning that bringing his wife to orgasm increased her odds of becoming pregnant.

“You looked lovely tonight at dinner,” he commented as they came from dinner.

“Thank you, husband. Your words flatter me always,” she told him.

He opened the door to their suite, the warmth of the fire already having filled the living space. When the door closed behind them, she let out a noticeable breath of relief. She always preferred the peace of their suite.

He stepped closer and began to unlace her gown. She reached behind her as he did so and took a hold of one of his wrists.

“Are you nervous?” he whispered. She hadn’t been nervous with him in months, but he always asked.

“Grateful, I suppose. For a husband like you,” she told him. Her dress fell to the ground in a pool around her ankles. She had forgone her slip and so she now stood naked in front of him. “I must admit though, today I am eager. I feel as though soon I shall be pregnant.”

He gave a small smile even though she could not see him. “A darling mother you shall be. How many do you wish us to have?”

“No less than two,” she told him. “So I hope you do not mind continuing this for a few years yet to come.”

“Never, my sweet niece. After all, I do still enjoy myself as a man should when I bed you.”

Satisfied, she released his wrist entirely so that he move as he wish. A feather light kiss to her shoulder as he began to undo his pants. A hand roaming the front of her body from behind, grabbing and squeezing to elicit soft little hums of approval from her. With his pants off, he stepped closer to her.

“Settee or bed?” he whispered in her ear, his hard cock pressing firmly against her ass.

“Settee,” she whispered while a shudder moved through her. Within a heartbeat, he lead her to the sofa near them.

“I want to make sure my seed takes in your womb, little wife,” he whispered in her ear before he helped her into position.

His touch traveled from her hip to entangle itself in her hair. She turned her face to him to allow a single kiss before he pushed her head roughly onto the settee’s cushion. Any sound she made was muffled by the cushion, but it was how they preferred.

The blood rush provided by his delicate fingers created as many desires in her as it sated. Any looks of love he would give her would be fake, they didn’t love each other. Yet when his nails raked against her back as he prepared to grab her hips, she knew she was lucky in this.

His left hand rested along the curve of her hip, fingers digging into the soft flesh to hold her where he wanted her. His right hand moved between her thighs before finding their home in her folds.

The fabric where her mouth was pressed warmed against her skin as she let out small, repetitive moans. In the months since their first bedding, his fingers had become experts at a quick orgasm. He would flex his thumb to rest against her pearl with fluctuating pressures in time with the speed of his middle and ring fingers thrusting into her cunt.

Her thighs trembled as Aemond curled his fingers, coaxing her orgasm ever closer. A faint sound of her moaning made it to his ears as her walls tightened around the digits. She came hard, only getting a second’s reprieve before his hand moved away and it’s presence replaced by his long cock.

His hips repeatedly moving into her turned him into a desperate man. Watching himself disappear into her cunt while her ass melted against the muscles of his lower abdomen was a sight made of sin. She was soaked around him, her juices dripping off his cock.

Aemond was a restrained man until he was on the precipice of orgasm. It was when she felt his fingers return to her swollen pearl and his hips start to stutter that she cried out. She could feel him pawing at her back, his once anchoring grasp becoming a desperate touch. His movements were no longer careful and considered as he rubbed his thumb eagerly against her pearl and fucked into her with abandon. She could feel the tension begin to build within her as she whispered his name into the cushion again and again.

She came for a second time, squealing into the cushion as she attempted to move forward. The pleasurable band that had snapped inside her belly increased how much she felt tenfold. Every movement of his cock was like the sweetest torture. The head pushed against that spongy spot inside of her, making her whimper with every brush. Her walls gripped even tighter, like he was the missing piece of her.

He groaned out her name as he released his spend, ropes of white coating her walls. She was certain, as he pulled out of her while trying to steady his breath, that this was it. This would be their luck.

Within two moons she had confirmation she was pregnant. She wrote letters to her family immediately upon telling Aemond. Together, they would walk to Her Grace the Queen’s apartments and tell her she would once again become a grandmother. One would think they had divulged the secrets of the universe with the way the Queen became so overjoyed.

She was approaching her fifth month of pregnancy when her family returned to King’s Landing so that her mother could take the Throne. With the passing of King Viserys, many had anticipated war. But neither Rhaenyra or Alicent wanted to risk losing their grandchild. If war had broken out, both knew that the baby would be torn between the desires of both it’s parents. That was enough.

YN stood in wait for her family alone at the Dragon Pit. The peace was tense already, and they had yet to arrive. But one by one, the elder members of her family landed on their dragons in front of her.

A journey by ship would take too long when there was a throne to take. Her mother dismounted Syrax with grace befitting a queen. Her eyes though did not fix themselves to her mother, instead the new Prince of Dragonstone capturing her full attention.

“My sweet sister,” her older brother said once he dismounted Vermax.

Jacaerys looked at her like she was his favorite toy. Two years her elder and that had never changed. She was his little sister, the one he knew the gods crafted from the heavens specifically for him. It was everything he believed to be true. She was meant to be his Queen, to be his.

That is why he was never too worried about her betrothal to Aemond when it was announced. Jace knew he didn’t necessarily need to be her first husband. Men run away or die every day, leaving their families behind. Knowing his uncle meant knowing how perfect the one eyed man had to be. He anticipated Aemond running away the moment he proved to be subpar at being a husband.

And when he did inevitably run, when he did abandon his wife, all Jacaerys needed to do was be there. He had told YN her entire life how he adored her, how he would give her a crown and a throne and nobody would doubt his devotion to her. She would be his equal in every way once he was King. No marriage to some lesser standing man would change that.

“Jace,” she said with a smile on her face. She closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around his neck.

He was sturdy, lean but firm. There was no sway in his body when she all but collided into him in her excitement, her small bump pressing against him. He held her just as close.

Even her pregnancy could not dissuade him from believing they were meant for each other. Jacaerys knew she would have children from this marriage, he had long prepared for that reality. But this child was as much of her as it was of Aemond, and he would love every part of his beloved sister.

“You are stunning, my queen. The babe is not too much trouble, I hope?” he asks when he pulls away. But only enough to look at her.

“Oh none at all. The little bug has only just began kicking,” she told him.

“I was more referring to your husband, but I am grateful your pregnancy has been easy thus far,” he told her with a smirk, creating a giggle she could not hold back.

His eyes look over her face more times than he can count. He had never seen a beauty such as hers. From the way her lips stretched as she smiled, to the little furrow in her brow as she watched him look at her, to the subtlety of her eyes shining with a joy he doubted she had for years. Everything about her captivated him.

As his eyes raked further down her body he was a man in love. Her breasts already were beginning to swell with milk, looking deliciously full and ripe for providing his pleasure. The bump was small, he knew she wasn’t too far along just yet, but seeing evidence of a child growing inside her was enough for him to feel like a man gone mad.

His cock began to swell under his trousers. He could not resist pulling her in for another hug just to be able to rut against her for a mere moment. It was subtle, discreet, one would be forgiven for thinking it was the embrace of a brother who missed his sister. She knew what he was doing. She could feel his bulge pressing through his skirts and against her heat.

“I have missed you dearly, my queen,” he whispered in her ear.

“I have missed you as well, my dear brother,” she whispered, hugging him tighter to her.

Pregnancy had a way of clouding her judgement. She desired more than just this juvenile attempt at some relief. And while it was true Aemond would tend to her when her hormones became too overwhelming, there was a difference. Aemond was her husband, the man she was legally bound to. He was the father of the babe cradled safely inside her. He was allowed.

Jace was her older brother. Adore him as she might, he had no true claim to her. They had risked enough the night before her wedding when he made her ride his thigh to orgasm. It was his way of ensuring she knew pleasure before he would get the chance to properly give it to her. But now, to even do this was a slap in the face to her husband and an affront to the gods.

He pulled away, completely this time, and smiled at her. “Your presence has been missed deeply, sweetling.”

And with no other words he stepped away and allowed a proper greeting between her and their mother.

With Rhaenyra’s coronation and subsequent restructuring of the Small Council, life remained hectic for months. Rhaenyra was smarter than her father as a ruler, she understood that the only thing that posed a threat to her rule was the ambitions of one man in particular. The best way to remove such a threat was to understand the ambition and give it only enough power to remain useful to her.

Her first act? Removing Otto Hightower as Hand. He was still on the Small Council as Master of Whisperers, as he was a man best kept close and an expert of intelligence. In his stead she placed Jacaerys until such a time he was married and would move to his seat of Dragonstone. It would give him opportunity to learn the workings of ruling the country that would once be his. As a way to create good faith between her and her brothers, she offered them positions as well. She would appoint Aemond as Master of Laws, as she doubted there were any who knew more of Westeros’ histories and laws as him. And for Aegon she created the position of Master of Celebrations, offering no further explanation before he accepted.

Being as her husband was preoccupied with his newfound duties, YN spent many nights alone. The babe, due in the next month by now, made her ache and weep. It was all she could do to avoid such pains. If it wasn’t her back or hips hurting, both from the weight of her stomach and the way her body prepared for labour, it was the way her breasts were already filling to the brim.

Her only comfort was found in her baths. The water ran so hot it would be uncomfortable for many. She had the blood of dragons coursing through her, she carried a dragon inside her. A little extra heat did nothing to dissuade her.

In fact, she was sitting on the bed, waiting for her maids to bring forth the water needed. Her hands massaged her aching breasts to attempt to provide any relief for her. As such, she was hardly covered by anything. Only a thin sheet laid draped over her lower half.

There was a knock on the door. She beckoned them inside, assuming it was her maids. Yet when she opened her eyes, there stood Jacaerys. Her eyes widened slightly, though she made no grand attempt to hide herself.

“My sweet, are you okay?” he asked her softly. His voice was filled with a love she had mostly forgotten.

“Pregnancy is hard on the body, at it turns out,” she joked as he came closer to her. It was then she pulled the sheet up further, now hiding her breasts.

“And your husband is not here to attend to you,” he commented. He sat in front of her on the bed and repositioned the sheet, exposing her breasts and pregnant belly to him.

“He does as he can. His duties have been weighing more as of late, though, so I am typically asleep by his finishing hour,” she told him.

“A dutiful wife. Never speaking ill of him,” he whispered.

“He has been good to me, Jace. He cares a great deal for my safety and happiness. Better to me than I believe many would have been,” she said in response. Her words were soft and genuine. She bore no ill will for Aemond, truly she did not. And she would not pretend she did.

“I am grateful you were granted such a kindness by the gods.”

His hands moved now from the sheet he stilled gripped to roam her stomach. The babe kicked at his touch as if to say hello. The two chuckled at the sensation.

“She has never kicked so eagerly before,” YN told him.

“She?” he asked with a quirked eyebrow.

“Call it instinct,” she shrugged, smiling at his hand on her stomach.

“She has a fiery resolve, just as her mother and her mother before,” Jacaerys told her happily before leaning forward and placing a kiss to her stomach. “Such a beautiful mother already, my queen.”

“You are too good at your flattery, brother,” she whispered.

“Is it flattery if it’s true? Is it flattery if just the sight of you, swollen with a babe and practically dripping milk, make my cock harden?” he asked, looking up at her with his chin rested on her stomach.

When her jaw slacked and her lips parted, he knew he had her attention in the way he needed. He moved up her body, pressing gentle kisses along her stomach and breasts as he did. Her uptick in breathing was bordering on panting as she watched him. His mess of curls tickled her skin just as his lips did.

“Can’t wait until it is my babe in your stomach. But I will love this one just the same,” he murmured against her skin.

“I am married, brother,” she whispered as she attempted to move his head away.

“You think the gods care for the law of man when they have crafted you for me?” he asked. His body did not budge at her insistent nudges.

“Jacaerys,” she whispered.

His hand flew up to grip her wrist. It did not hurt but it was a former grasp than Aemond ever had. In a moment her hand was being held to the mattress by his own, his head unmoving. His face was nestled comfortably in the crook of her neck where he inhaled deeply.

“You know you were made for me, little one, just as I have known it always. And you said yourself our uncle cares for your happiness, yet where is he? Why does he not tend to you as you prepare for him the greatest gift?” he murmured against her neck.

“He is busy,” she whispered, her eyes fluttering shut as he once again inhaled her.

“The gods themselves would have to bind me to the earth in order to keep me from putting my cock in you whenever you needed,” he told her before nipping at her skin.

His free hand found it’s way to her left breast. She whimpered a bit under his touch, the pain she felt earlier mixing with a pleasure from how much he desired her. She could feel his smirk against her neck as he began rutting his hips against her lap. His hardened cock pressed painfully into her thigh.

She should tell him to move. She knew he would respect her desires. But how could she focus on any desire she held save for him? She had always loved Jacaerys as he loved her.

Her first memory was of Jace promising her she would be his Queen. He doted on her from the moment she was born. He had always told her she was his, made for him by the gods to be his perfect match, even after her betrothal. And while she understood the role she was meant to play in keeping the peace, she believe it too.

“What is this?” Aemond’s voice said from the door.

YN was about to answer him, to insist that despite what it looked like she had only been waiting for her maids to draw her bath. She could only hope he would understand. Instead, Jace sat up. He smirked at his younger sister before turning to face Aemond, his hand never leaving hers.

“I am doing your job, since apparently you do not find my sweet sister important enough,” he said to the blonde man.

“Do not speak to me of my wife,” Aemond said darkly. “She understands the nature of my position.”

“You do not speak to me of my sister,” Jace commanded. “She is beauty in all she is, she is carrying your child, and yet you do not wait on her hand and foot? Instead leaving her to rot in this room while you pour over your books and scrolls.”

“I am a prince you do not get to speak to me this way,” Aemond said angrily, though not as loud.

“And I am Prince of Dragonstone, Heir to the Iron Throne!” Jace all but shouted. “I should have your cock removed since you do not use it as you should! Send you to the Wall for daring to deny my sister an existence of gluttonous pleasure!”

Aemond silenced himself and looked to his wife. His wife who, until this moment, he wasn’t aware could look at someone with such a burning desire. But she looked at Jacaerys the way he had once hoped they would looked at each other, when he thought there was hope they would love each other. He could see that for her, Jacaerys hung the moon and stars.

“Close the door and sit in that chair by the window,” Jace told Aemond.

Having no choice to comply, the older man did as asked. There was little doubt in his mind Jacaerys would send him to the Wall if for no other reason than to have YN to himself. And so, he shut the bedroom door and took a seat in the chair.

The bed was close enough he got a perfect side view of his wife. He could admit the sight of her displayed in such a manner stirred something inside him. He could feel his cock twitch at the sight of her full breasts, her rounded belly, but mostly? It was the way she wasn’t even concerned with him.

Her focus was solely on Jacaerys now. Her brother was back to pressing kisses against her body. It was the first time Aemond could see the faces she made with the slightest pleasure. How easily her face contorted the second Jacaerys took one of her nipples between his teeth was a sight he wished he could commit to memory.

“Some ground rules,” Jacaerys said after pulling away from her breast. He looked to Aemond. “Sit in that fucking chair until I tell you you’re allowed to move. Answer me when you’re spoken to. Stroke your dick or whatever, just do not leave that chair.”

“And if she asks for me?” Aemond asked him.

“She won’t,” was all Jacaerys offered him. But it was enough to make YN whimper beneath him. Aemond flushed as his cock twitched once again, hardening with every passing second.

Jacaerys turned to YN, smiling down at her. “And you, my beautiful, darling, sweet sister…all I want is your permission to love your body the way it is meant to be loved,” he said. His voice with her was soft and tender as opposed to how harsh and angry he was with Aemond.

“Jace,” she whispered. She began to turn to Aemond, but Jacaerys gripped her chin and kept her gaze on him.

“No, my queen, it is not about him. It is about you, and us. About you belonging to me, if you wish,” he whispered to her. His brown doe eyes made her melt before he sat up, finally releasing her hand to he could grab the bottom of his shirt.

All she could do is nod. She was speechless with the sight of him pulling off his shirt. His toned abdomen caused a gush of her arousal to pool between her legs.

She felt heat flood her cheeks when he removed the sheet from her lower half. Her face felt even hotter when he pushed her legs apart, eyes locking in on her cunt.

“Such a pretty pussy, baby,” he praised her, hands rubbing the inside of her thighs. “Doesn’t she have a pretty pussy, Uncle?”

For the first time, YN looked at him. Her wide eyes were heavy with lust. In all the nights they had spent together, he had never really allowed himself the chance to take in the beauty of her face. He wanted more. Needed more

“Yes,” was all he could manage to say. His eyes moved from her face to where Jace was touching her. In almost expert fashion, Jace removed his pants. His cock was longer than Aemond’s, thicker too. As husband and wife stared at the monstrous cock, they both couldn’t imagine how it would fit.

“Have you drank from these tits, Uncle?” Jace asked Aemond without turning his eyes from her pussy. He smirked at how wet his sister was, feeling more desire in him than he had ever felt before.

“Not yet,” Aemond choked out. His self restraint was out the window now. He pulled his cock from his trousers and gripped it in his hand.

“Seems fitting, I suppose. You were the first to fuck a babe into her, I shall be the first to drink from her,” Jacaerys smirked at the idea of claiming a part of her Aemond had not.

He laid his cock in between her slick folds, allowing it to rest against her clit while he leaned down and began suckling from her. His left hand held one tit while he suckled from the other. Her sweet milk flowed freely past his eager lips and onto his greedy tongue.

He moaned against her as he ground his hips against hers. Her slick aided his cock in sliding between her folds and creating a friction that caused her to whine out. She couldn’t hold the moans from her lips.

“Fuck,” Aemond whispered. His pupil was blown wide as he desperately stroked his cock. Pre-cum beaded on the head just to continuously be wiped away by a swipe of his cum.

With a loud pop, Jacaerys pulled off her tit. He kissed her hungrily. There was nothing he needed more than her. He couldn’t help himself. He pulled his hips back just far enough to readjust, pushing his cock into her. She groaned into the kiss, feeling the burn of stretching around him. His hips stilled when his cock was seated half way inside her.

He broke the kiss after several moments. He looked between her lips and her leaking tits. His cock throbbed at the sight.

“So beautiful,” he whispered. “So fuckable. So perfect on my cock.”

“Yours, Jacey, yours,” she muttered. She made a pointed effort to ignore her husband whimpering in his chair. The thought of him so hard at this sight made her pussy flutter around the cock inside her. “Want your fucking cock, Jacey. All of it.”

He kissed all over her face as he pushed further into her. She cried out his name repeatedly, moaning, begging for more in the same breath she cried it was too much. Jacaerys nearly busted inside her in that moment. Her full tits moving with just the slightest snap of his hips, her cock drunk expression written on her face, her pregnant stomach pushing against him.

With her beautiful sounds as encouragement, he began fucking into her with abandon. All that mattered to him was how perfect she felt around him. Her walls squeezed around his cock in a quiet desperation to keep him inside her. With every stroke, the tip pushed against the spongey part of her walls, causing her to cry out his name. She was more sensitive in her pregnancy, allowing for her orgasm to build quickly.

“Fuck, fuck,” she moaned out as the band inside her snapped and her orgasm washed over her entirely.

The gush of her release flooded over his cock. He wanted to hear her moans every day. It was all he could think about as his balls, heavy with his load, slapped against her ass. His grunts and groans of pleasure drowned her out until finally he cried out her name, spilling his seed deep inside her.

“Stop,” YN commanded Aemond after a few seconds.. He looked to her face desperately, obediently stopping his furious tugs of his cock just as he was on the verge of his own release.

“What do you wish, my queen?” Jace panted, pulling his still throbbing cock from her.

“Eat your spend from my cunt. Then when you pull away I wish Aemond to begin to fuck me, and you spit your seed into his mouth,” she told her brother, never looking away from Aemond. She watched as his cock twitched with anticipation. “I think that is what my husband wants, too.”

Jace smirked at her once more before looking to Aemond. “Come over here, then. Naked. My Queen wishes to enjoy you.”

Aemond had never moved so fast in his life. As Jace moved down his lover’s body, YN took her husband’s hand. It was a small moment of intimacy neither had allowed themselves before. Until tonight, a certain part of them remained duty. But now, there was no pretending.

Jacaerys lapped eagerly at her clit once he found his home between her thighs. She squirmed under his careful tongue, whimpering his name. Aemond felt desperate now, to make her replicate those sounds for him.

Jacaerys pulled away from her right before she came again. She was breathing heavy, eyes wide, as she looked down at him. Without breaking eye contact, he reached beside him and grabbed Aemond by his cock. Wordlessly, Aemond allowed himself to be lead, occasionally bucking his hips into Jacaerys’ hand. YN moaned at the sight.

With Aemond in position, his cock firmly pressed against her entrance, Jacaerys grabbed his uncle by the jaw and squeezed. Aemond instinctually opened his mouth. The brunette looked to his sister, who at this point was rubbing her own clit, before turning back to Aemond and spitting the mixture of his seed and YN’s release onto his waiting tongue. Just like a seasoned whore in Flea Bottom, Aemond swallowed eagerly.

“Tell her thank you for the gift she has bestowed in you,” Jacaerys whispered in Aemond’s ear. His hand moved to grasp his uncle’s cock, giving slow, lazy tugs. Between the heat of his wife’s pussy all but begging him to fuck her and the firmness of his nephew’s hold, it was almost painful to not begin to fuck her at a reckless pace.

“Th-thank you, for giving me a child,” Aemond stuttered out. Jacaerys began grinding against Aemond’s hip, his cock hardening with every passing moment.

“Apologize to her for not satisfying her enough,” the future king demanded. His eyes watched his sister’s fingers rubbing furiously against her clit, her body trembling. And then they traveled up her body. “Tell her what a goddess she is.”

“Such a goddess,” he whispered, looking down at her. “I am a fool for not worshipping every moment.”

“Mhmphh,” Jacaerys breathed out as he rutted against his uncle. “Slide your pretty cock into her and beg her to keep you. Beg our Queen to decide she wants to keep you when I marry her.”

As soon as Jacaerys’ hand fell away, Aemond buried himself to the hilt inside her pussy. But his hand was not unoccupied for long. He batted her hand away from her clit and replaced her fingers with his. He rubbed the sensitive nub in time with his thrusts against Aemond’s hip.

“Do not cast me aside,” Aemond begged her, his hips moving at breakneck speed as he pounded away at his wife’s pussy. “YN, my wife, please. Keep me by your side, fuck, fuck, and and I will worship you.”

“Slow yourself, match your thrusts to mine. Deeply,” Jacaerys whispered his ear. Aemond was quick to adjust his speed. He wanted to make both of them happy.

“Fuck,” YN whined out. Her thighs were trembling uncontrollably as once again she approached orgasm. “Want both of you. Want to be Queen. Want to be both yours,” she begged the two men. Her back arched as she screamed out, their names tumbling from her lips in a jumbled mess. Both men tried to maintain their movements as she rode out her eye.

Jacaerys came first, still sensitive from his first orgasm. His sticky spend painted Aemond’s pale hip before beginning to slide down the taut muscles and onto the mattress below. Aemond followed sooner after, his seed finding home deep inside his wife.

The three of them were breathing heavily. Jacaerys stepped back off the bed, finding a cloth so that he could wipe off Aemond’s hip. By the time the blonde prince had pulled out, his cock had softened. But neither man could avoid staring at her pussy as it leaked cum.

Aemond laid beside his wife, Jacaerys on the other. She giggled and pulled a sheet over their bodies.

“We shall wed in the Valyrian tradition, and our Uncle and I shall take turns fucking babe after babe into you,” Jacaerys whispered as he kissed her cheek.

“It is against the Faith, the law,” YN reminded her brother.

But Aemond saw the frown on her face and knew how much she wanted that future. And he wished for it too, wished for more nights in which the three of them could spend together. Something inside him shifted as he looked at the two of them. What was once a marriage to his dearest friend was now more. It was a chance at a happiness he would never have allowed himself.

“Lucky for us, we know the person responsible for the law,” he murmured as his hand rested on her stomach. “And I have it on good authority he wishes nothing more than to allow us this pleasure.”

She looked up at his face, her gaze soft. “Truly?” she whispered.

“Jacaerys is right. I have been a fool. A fool for not realizing the beauty that you are, the wonderful thing you are giving me,” he leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “And this was the happiest I have ever seen you.”

“It is the happiest you have ever been either, dear husband,” she pointed out. “I have never seen you so responsive.”

Jacaerys rested his own again against her stomach, his finger tips grazing Aemond’s. “I am glad to have seen it from the both of you.”

“Marry her. And we shall all be together as we were tonight,” Aemond murmured. Jacaerys chuckled. “What?”

“Oh next time, I’m fucking your ass while you fuck her,” he smirking. “Or maybe we should see if both our cocks could fit in her.”

“Oh, I think she’s definitely a good enough girl to let us try. Aren’t you, my wife?”

She nodded eagerly before leaning up to kiss him. He hummed against her lips for just a moment before she pulled away and kissed Jacaerys.

When she pulled away, both men moved as close as possible to her and held her.

“I love you, sweet sister.”

Taglist: @alexagirlie

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