#bring on the water works 😭😭😭😭

[dollishsz]

BAKE ME A CAKE HCS ── .✦

a/n: I’ve had like 3 bags of pretzels and tons of water and I’ve got my Spotify playlist going and ready, so I’m so ready to crush this omg 😭, but literally the pretzels were so yum!! (Sea salt) but anyways enough of food but genuinely you guys need to like um request fics and hcs!!

(Tags: batboys x baker!reader)

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

Admiration and Support: Bruce is genuinely amazed by your skills in the kitchen. He never imagined that someone could be so talented at making intricate cakes and delicate pastries. He’ll often sneak into the kitchen just to watch you work, appreciating the craftsmanship that goes into each creation.

Gifts: On special occasions, Bruce will have high-end ingredients or tools delivered to your door, ensuring you have the best supplies for your baking. He may also commission a cake from you for one of the many Wayne galas.

Late-Night Treats: After a long day, he loves sneaking a piece of your cake or a warm pastry when everyone else is asleep. It’s his secret way of unwinding after patrol, and he sometimes brings it to the Batcave when he's working late.

Baking as a Family Activity: If you’re close to his kids, Bruce loves seeing them get involved. Alfred usually helps with the dishes, but Bruce will occasionally attempt to assist in the baking process—though his attempts usually lead to flour everywhere.

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

The Enthusiastic Taste Tester: Dick is your biggest fan when it comes to your baking. He always asks to taste-test everything you make. You can’t get a batch of cookies or cupcakes past him without him giving an enthusiastic “Are these for me?”

Bakes Together: He absolutely loves baking with you. Even if he’s not the best at it, he loves the experience of spending time together and sharing in the process of creating something beautiful. He’ll add his own “creative” touches (usually involving way too much frosting or sprinkles and like massive diabetes but don’t tell him that😞🙏)

Appreciation: Dick loves showing off your work to his friends and family, boasting about your baking skills. He’ll even tell random strangers about your cakes if the opportunity arises.

Sharing the Love: He loves gifting your baked goods to people. Whether it’s a batch of cookies for the Titans or cupcakes for a charity event, he’s always making sure your delicious treats are shared with others.

JASON TODD ── .✦

The Hidden Sweet Tooth: Jason may come off as tough and gritty, but he has an undeniable soft spot for your baked goods. He’ll act like he doesn’t care, but you’ll often find him sneaking into the kitchen late at night, indulging in the last piece of cake you made.

In the Kitchen With You: Jason’s more of a hands-off kind of guy, but if you ever need help, he’ll step in. He’s not the best baker, but he’ll always try to help you clean up afterward, washing dishes or setting up the ingredients.

Cakes for Special Occasions: Jason secretly loves it when you bake him a special cake for his birthday or some other occasion. He’ll probably act like he’s too tough to care about something so sweet, but he’ll keep a piece of your cake in the fridge to savor later.

Cakes as Comfort: When he's had a rough day, the comfort of your baking is something that instantly calms him. It’s not just the taste but the warmth and care you put into it that makes him feel safe.

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

The Perfectionist’s Palate: Tim appreciates the art of baking on a technical level. He’ll analyze every part of your cake, from the texture of the frosting to the way the layers are stacked, and he’ll always give you the most thoughtful and genuine feedback.

Baking Research: Tim loves to try and learn new recipes with you. He’ll spend hours researching the best techniques, finding obscure recipes, and then he’ll be the one to present a new idea for a cake or pastry for you to try together. He has a great appreciation for the science behind baking.

The Baker’s Helper: Tim is a practical person, so he’ll often assist in the more tedious parts of baking—like measuring ingredients, prepping the oven, or organizing everything before you get started.

Decorating Cakes: Tim is a sucker for well-decorated cakes. He’ll admire your artistry, whether it’s intricate fondant work or delicate piping. If you ever need a hand with the decoration, he’ll be there, helping you get the details just right.

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

Unimpressed at First: Damian might be skeptical at first, having grown up in a more rigid environment. He’ll try to act like he’s not interested in your baking, especially if it’s too “sweet” or “fluffy” for his tastes. But over time, he comes to respect your craft.

A Taste of Perfection: When he finally does try one of your creations, his usually stoic face will break into a small, approving nod. “It’s acceptable,” he’ll say. And that’s his way of telling you that you’ve impressed him.

Incredibly Protective of Your Work: Damian will guard your cakes like they’re priceless treasures. If anyone tries to take the last piece, you’ll find him defending your work with a level of intensity only rivaled by his devotion to his family.

Baking for Special Occasions: He may not show it outwardly, but Damian takes great pride in ensuring that you have the time and space to bake for important events. He’s quietly supportive and makes sure that nothing interferes with your baking process.

AlFRED PENNYWORTH ( IF YOU WERE DATING ANYOF THE BATBOYS ) ── .✦

Your Biggest Supporter: Alfred is the heart of the Batfamily, and he’s often the one who enjoys your baked goods the most. He’ll frequently offer to help you with anything in the kitchen and often provides tips and tricks (he's been making delicious meals for the family for years).

Subtle Compliments: When you bake something particularly spectacular, Alfred will give you a compliment in his typical understated way: “Ah, Miss [Y/N], another masterpiece, I see.��� He might even sneak a piece of cake before dinner, though he always acts like it was an accident.

A Baking Partner: Alfred may not be much of a baker himself, but he’ll be happy to assist you in making whatever you need. His love for you is evident in how he’ll quietly encourage you to bake something for a family event or special occasion.

Admiring Your Skills: Alfred will often tell you how much he admires your patience and attention to detail in your work. He loves seeing the joy your creations bring to the rest of the family.

[moonperil6]

Blessed by a Trickster

Chapter Nine: I Never Thought my Last Words Would be That Stupid

Prev/Next

A/N: Guys this chapter is so short 😭

Warnings: I changed so many of the lyrics of this song to fit the storyline better

Word Count: 750

Listen to: Ruthlessness

“Poseidon,” Odysseus breathed.

The man standing on the rocky shore of the island raised his trident, grey hair billowing in the leftover wind that was released from the bag.

“In all my years of living, it isn’t very often that I get pissed off.” Even from the ship you could still hear the voice of the imposing god. “I try to chill with the waves, but damn you crossed the line.”

You watched, frozen as Poseidon floated through the water toward your ship. “I’ve been so gracious, and yet you hurt the son of mine.” He smiled at your fearful expression. “That’s right. The cyclops you made die, was mine.”

“No,” you and Odysseus said in unison, both your voices laced with disbelief.

It was like that single word summoned the god, because he appeared right in front of you. You scrambled back as Poseidon continued in his booming voice, “I’m left without a choice, and without a doubt. Guess the pack of wolves is swimming with the shark now.” He swept his trident to the right, and several figures rose above the ship- six wolves made out of water, trying to swim while a shark circled the pack.

“I gotta make you bleed, I need to see you drown.” The god’s words cut through the visual, and you raised your forearm to block the water droplets that rained down. “But before you go, I need to make you learn how ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves.”

You took another step back, and then there were two, quite solid things- going shoulder to shoulder with you.

You looked around wildly and breathed a sigh of relief when you realized it was Polites and Eurylochus, both pointing their swords at the god that stood before you. 

Poseidon only sneered at the sight of the blades. He turned his attention to Odysseus, who was now unprotected.

“You are the worst kind of good, ‘cause you’re not even great,” Poseidon said, circling the captain. “A Greek who reeks of false righteousness- that’s what I hate! ‘Cause you fight to save lives, but never get the job done.” He raised a hand and curled it into a fist. “I mean you totally could’ve avoided all this, had you not killed my son. But no.”

Polites could see you shaking and turned you toward him gently. “Open arms,” he told you softly.

“No,” you replied in the same low voice as him. “That won’t work here.”

Your attention was jolted back to Poseidon as the god said, “Now it is finally time to say goodbye. Today, you die. Unless, of course, you apologize for my son's pain and all his cries.”

“Poseidon, we meant no harm,” you tried. “We only killed him to disarm him.”

Odysseus, nodding, added, “we took no pleasure in his pain. We only wanted to escape.”

Poseidon stopped and narrowed his eyes at the both of you. “The line between naivety and hopefulness is almost invisible. So close your heart the world is dark.”

The god raised his trident. “Die!” He screamed, bringing the butt of the trident down on the floor of the ship.

Almost instantly, geysers of water shot up and around the other ships of the fleet. You stumbled to the railing, knees weak from the thought of the deaths you might have caused. You could hear panicked screeching coming from the helms of the ships. “Captain! Captain! Captain! Captain!”

Poseidon waved his hand and all went quiet.

“What have you done?” Odysseus whispered, looking out at the destruction. The only thing left of the rest of the fleet were a few sinking sails and floating floorboards. 

“Forty three left under your command.” You could practically see the proud smirk on Poseidon’s face without turning around.

You felt a hand on your shoulder, and you glanced behind you, shocked; the hand belonged to Poseidon. “I am your darkest moment,” the god murmured. “The monster that always draws near.”

He raised his voice and took his hand off of your shoulder. “Any last words?” He asked grudgingly.

You had been eyeing the bag for a while, and now you lunged forward. “All I gotta do is open this bag!” You said triumphantly, untying the rope and flinging it open.

“What?” Poseidon thundered, but you were already speeding off on the newly summoned winds, leaving the god and his island behind.

You slumped back, closing your eyes and releasing a sigh of relief.

You wondered if you imagined the, “remember me…”

[1lovepeace]

So, a few days ago, we recently got the first look at some screenshots of S5, which has gotten me even more excited about what is coming. But the last screenshot, with both Callum and Rayla possibly arguing, is one of the few that really caught my attention. Besides, seeing Rayla with Runaan's Bowblade. (Aww, my heart ❤️😭.) This could very well be the beginning origin of the intense, messy, overwhelming, and emotional conflict and topic that is about none other than Runaan for a variety of obvious, huge reasons. Considering how Runaan is just so much for both of them.

For Callum, freeing Rayla's family with dark magic, potentially as a last resort, is huge enough, but also know that one of the elves he would be saving is Runaan. This would not sit right with him at all because in his eyes, he'd be freeing the same elf who killed his stepfather, King Harrow, and made him and his brother orphans.

But for Rayla, it would be just as heavy and intense. Considering that she's willing to do anything and everything to free her family, also because of her deep history and connection with Runaan. Being that there's too many unresolved and unanswered moments between them from their last devastating interactions with each other from the disastrous fallout of the mission. There is a tremendous amount of emotional baggages, traumas, hurt, and pain that will be exposed at some point. Because in her eyes, Runaan was doing his job/civic duty as an assasin, but she might also remind Callum that his stepfather was not an innocent man either because he chose to take vengence into his own hands by killing Thunder Avizandum and giving the order to Viren to kill Zym who was still just an unborn egg, which was extremely monstrous. Resulting in another father being tragically taken away from his child and mate.

Imagine the heavy emotional yet honest and incredible dialogue we can have with them as this possible conflict unfolds. It would be phenomenal to see. Watch S5 unleash the raging tides of the oceans. I'm ready but not ready all in one. Let's Go Season 5🎉❤

[1lovepeace]

Oh My Shadow. The hype for S5 has been off the chains. S5 is about to unleash the raging tides of the oceans, and I'm so here for it. Bring on all the emotions. 👀 🙌🙌

oh no

[ihamtmus]

.

[crossbackpoke-check]

i saw the d3 acha coho tiktok and saw your tag about how to spell s(h)(e)(a)(w)n and as I watched it with the roster pulled up next to the video so I could figure things out I HAD to come tell you that it was spelled 'shjon' because LOL. but then I saw your other post and saw that you not only already figured it out but you had a DIFFERENT tag about the 8-3 game last night. i know what game you're talking about; i listened on the radio. i've been sad ever since and it would make me feel better to tell you that you're not special - everyone takes advantage of our terrible powerplay and yet we REFUSE to stop drop passing. sorry you definitely didn't expect a salty shiny helmet fan in your inbox just please be gentle with us tonight. Christmas isn't for another month - stop lighting up our goalie :( although huge congrats on winning the tournament last year i was cheering for you so hard to defeat the Evil and you did :)

​feeling shrimp emotions right now as i try to convey the whiplash this ask gave me… first of all 🥺🥰😭 that you were gonna come tell me how to spell shjon and then 🫵 SAME GAME???

but GOD the experience of “listen i know—shhhhh shhh shhh shhh i haven’t even started yet—i KNOW it looks cool when you do a no-look behind the back pass. it does! when it works. you know what we look like when it doesn’t work? fuckin’ STUPID!!!!” is universal. me 🤝 you 🤝 yelling at our hockey team to stop doing stupid drop passes!!!!

(p.s. wish: granted! most of it was the fact that your baby goalie did better than [redactedx2] and that’s all the shop i will talk here for purposes of not doxxing either of us lmaooo)

[ragingbullmode]

been sick with a cold 👎

[timeisacephalopod]

This winter (the season not the me) has been unseasonably and terrifyingly warm, like it's 10 degrees (Celsius sorry Americans) out today and I'm reminded of an article I read in the news a couple years ago about how Canada was baking at twice the rate as the rest of the world and go 👁️👄👁️. In my youth snow where I live would be probably a foot high in the lowest snow areas of snow drifts and up to my waist (in adult height) in the high parts, and every year I see less and less snow ☠️☠️☠️

On one hand despite my namesake I actually loathe the season winter, I'm extremely sensitive to the cold and getting brain freeze because the wind is blowing against the direction you're walking in sucks booty hole. But like NO snow is extremely bad. VERY bad. Do not like living out the consequences of climate change because uh. Canada just does not seem to have winters like it used to and hasn't in years. It's like watching all the corn crops stop growing like they used to because the summers are so much dryer and hotter with the exception of last summer, which was almost wet enough to kill the corn with that. But they survived and grew bushy like they used to and it was kind of terrifying to acknowledge I hadn't seen a crop that good in years.

[fingertipsmp3]

Had a dream last night that two of my best friends came to stay with me and also Mabel was alive 🥹

[kyouka-supremacy]

Why is it always “dazai is not a canon sexist nor he objectify women cope” in my inbox and never “hey do you want to discuss what the inherent morality of man is like till we both pass out discussing the inherent morality of man is fun”

[veilblight]

ain't no way my father's had a desktop pc he isn't using all this time..

[darthteeth]

URGENT!!!Help Abdul Salam Al-Anqar and his family get through this war in Gaza!!!

(URGENT) THEY ARE AT €3,445 OUT OF €50,000 GOAL

I was asked by @nader5555 to make this, if u cannot donate please please share this post. Copy pasted from a message i was sent:

"Only a Few Hours Left Before We Enter Our First Year of War, Genocide, Starvation, and Displacement A Final Plea from the Heart of Hell: Save Us Before Hope Dies 💔🔥 I am Abdel Salam, and I have nothing left but words written by a trembling hand ✍️. The war has not only destroyed our lives; it has taken everything from us. Our home, which was once our refuge, is now a pile of rubble 🏚️.

My car, my only source of livelihood, was destroyed in a sudden strike 🚗, and the work that sustained us is now a distant memory 💼. Today, I live in an endless nightmare. Under a sun that burns everything in its path 🌞🔥, my family and I sit in a worn-out tent, a tent that shields us neither from the summer heat nor the winter cold ❄️. Insects 🦟 invade the place, diseases consume our bodies 🩺, and my younger siblings cry from hunger and thirst 🍞💧. We have no clean water or a crumb of bread to ease our hunger. Each passing day deepens the weight of this hell we live in.

My Daughter Eman is Dying from Malnutrition 😨 My daughter Eman suffers from malnutrition; I have nothing to feed or treat her with. The deterioration of her health is killing me slowly. Every glance in her eyes, every pain she endures, crushes my heart 💔. How can I explain to her that what was once our hope has now turned into nothing but a mirage? The Night Only Adds to Our Pain 🌙 The night does not bring us rest; it only adds to our pain. We sleep on hard ground, feeling the cold in every bone of our bodies 🥶, with nothing but pieces of cardboard 📦 to cover us. My wife Aya cries in silence 🥺 as she watches our daughter’s future fade before her eyes. My mother Eman suffers from illness and needs urgent medical care 🩺💊.

My Father Ahmed is Sick with Cancer and Needs Emergency Treatment My father Ahmed, who is sick with cancer, needs emergency treatment outside Gaza, and the cost of his treatment is at least $10,000, not including accommodation. As he suffers from severe pain, I cannot provide the treatment he needs due to our dire situation.

My Siblings Are in Constant Suffering ⚰️ My brother Omar was unable to continue his studies due to the situation. My brother Nader could not take his high school exams, and my younger brother Mohammad suffers from brittle bones and needs treatment we cannot afford. Every day we live brings us one step closer to the end. Death surrounds us from every side: if not from hunger 🍽️, then from illness 🦠. And if not from illness, then from the despair that devours our souls. Where is Humanity? Where is the World? 🌍💔 We want to leave the devastated Gaza Strip to escape the machinery of destruction and killing and the severity of hunger and poverty. The cost of travel for each person is $5,000, and we are a family of seven members, bringing the total cost to $35,000.

Where are the compassionate hearts? Are you waiting for us to disappear into the depths of this suffering? Are you waiting until death takes us before you act? We are drowning, and we don’t have enough strength to scream for help 🆘. Will you let this cry go unanswered? 😭 Your donation today is our last thread of hope. With the little support I received, I was able to buy a simple phone 📱 to reach out to you. But the bitter truth is that what I and my family need is much greater. We are not asking for much; just enough to save our lives from this hell 🔥. Every donation, no matter how small, could be the difference between life and death for us 👐. Don’t Let Us Disappear in the Darkness of Suffering 🌑 Don’t let our story end here. Be the light that guides us to salvation 🕯️✨.

With every tear, with every pain, I write this final plea to you, Abdel Salam."

taglist

@butchniqabi @xinakwans

@batekush

@appsa

@nerdyqueerr

@butchsunsetshimmer

@biconicfinn @stopmotionguy

@t4tvampireisms

@strangeauthor

@bryoria @shesnake

@legallybrunettedotcom

@lautakwah @sovietunion

@neechees @evillesbianvillain @antibioware

@akajustmerry @dizzymoods

@ree-duh @neptunerings

@explosionshark

@heritageposts

@ibtisams

@schoolteacher

[manikas-whims]

LADS Men & the type of cats they are

in honor of the new quad banner ♡

RAFAYEL (Nyafayel)

🐾 picky eater, will not eat dry food and will make a yucky face at canned food, wants you to cook proper meals everyday, and wants you to diversify the meals

🐾 will knock over every article from your work desk, bedside table, kitchen counter, etc. while looking right into your eyes with his most defiant and naughty “try me” expression 😌

🐾 usually chill but will want all your attention in the presence of others; be it cats or humans..clingy af at night..will howl outside your room’s door until you let him in and let him sleep with you in bed..

🐾 also the type to wail when you leave him alone at home to go to work, and immediately smothers you with licks and rubs the moment you come back

🐾 hisses at water, will accidentally scratch you when you try to give him a bath..yet at the same time, enjoys being pampered..he's the type who sees you doing makeup & wants you to put it on him as well 🎀

XAVIER (Catvier)

🐾 a lazy cat (cats do sleep around 16~18 hours)..one of those who fall into a deep slumber and you're just left shaking and calling him, concerned..and then he just lazily yawns and looks at you with the most innocent, confused gaze 🥺

🐾 slow blinks at you at random moments to express how much he loves you..also rubs his head against your legs and purrs, wraps tail around your leg,..kinda territorial, hisses if you smell like someone else..

🐾 loves food, is kind of a glutton..you need to stop feeding him..just because he meows sadly at you every hour doesn't mean he's hungry

🐾 does those weird cat things like sleep in awful postures, might stand on two feet and stare at you n do other weird shit lol

🐾 hates being toyed with but will immediately jump at the laser pointer lol..really sharp at spotting house lizards and mouse..will immediately catch them (topple alot of stuff in the process) and bring them to you as gifts

ZAYNE (Zaynyan)

🐾 is a gentleman and doesn't disturb you..sits nearby while you work so he can easily climb into your lap and offer comfort if you start feeling stressed or tired

🐾 not very vocal but there are days when he really wants affection, and on those days, he silently approaches you, headbutts you and meows softly, patiently waiting for you to pet him 🥺

🐾 not a talkative kitty but responds to everything you say..you call his name and he'll meow with affection, you ask if he's hungry and replies with a soft yet prolonged meow, you ask if wants to play and he meows cheerfully

🐾 very well-behaved, loves self-grooming but also never bothers you when it comes to bathing and grooming..sits like a good boy even when you're trimming his nails

🐾 does the most perfect loaf, may climb onto your belly when you're lying down and loaf onto your belly lol..is a baker kitty and will start kneading when he's feeling extra affectionate

SYLUS (Meowlus)

🐾 an outdoor kitty, sometimes disappears for a day or two and just when you start feeling a little concerned, he’s tiptoeing back in through the flap in your door..may be covered in dirt or even small nicks and cuts from fights he picks with the strays

🐾 makes you chase him around the house the moment he realises you're going to give him a bath..but the moment he's put in the tub, he's actually enjoying it..might cozy up there for far longer than necessary

🐾 very confident..do not yell at him for anything because he will growl and snarl back..doesn't like it when you scold him..also the type to catch mice n other small animals but he likes toying with them for fun 😭

🐾 there are days when you come across him meowing along to some tune..he's a talented singer, also likes to sing his meows when you're preparing his meal

🐾 will not let you pet him much..like he'll let you stroke his fur for a while and then suddenly when he gets overwhelmed by it, he will bite your hand lol (my cat does this sometimes 😭) actually likes play-biting

thank you @irandial ♡ for suggesting Zayne’s kitty name

» MASTERLIST «

[sh1-n0bu]

♡︎ 𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙮 𝙢𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙖 ♡︎

characters: priest!sub!blade x demon lord!nb!dom!reader

warnings: breeding, creampie, eating out, fingering, squirting, monsterfucking, non-verbal ask of consent, dirty talk, feminization (like literally), lactating, nipple stimulation, overstimulation, dacryphilia, size kink, belly bulge, cervix kissing, blade is a demon hunting priest, reader is a demon lord so they can choose whether to have a cock or pussy so basically genderfluid reader???? also reader changes blade’s anatomy to have a pussy and womb — it’s so messy okay😭😭

word count: 4.4K

notes: you KNOW shit is getting real when nobu starts word count. never thought i would be writing a bit of a dark-ish content yet here we are. the power of the horny😔 also inspired by my chat with one of ririshizu’s bots

special thank you to @theblades and @yenaakwyl for proofreading a whole damn 14 pages of filth

being a priest is no laughing matter. especially when you’re the type of priest that hunts and gets rid of demons who somehow ended up with a demon lord clinging to you, who’s constantly at your side, asking you questions about the human realm.

what was up with you, anyways? a literal demon lord, one of the lords of a deadly sin and yet here you were, dragging him around the streets, pointing at random things, wanting to sample every street food there were. sure, your human form was incredibly deceiving. a short, sweet human, clinging to his arm, excitedly pointing at the many different things that caught your attention. it would be hard for anyone to think of you as a demon lord in disguise.

except for blade. he’s been in this field of work for such a long time. constantly vanquishing demons who either were too annoying or possessed a poor, curious soul. the sharp edge of his shard sword is no laughing matter.

but you didn’t seem to mind. this demon lord, acting like a curious puppy, pulling him to each sides of the streets — ignoring the loud angry shouts of the car drivers and the constantly thinning of his wallet of course. not that blade had much to worry when it came to financial freedom. putting his life on the line and vanquishing demons from the human realm pays a generous amount.

it felt wrong to allow you to cling to him. you, a demon lord, no matter what your disguises meant or whatever pathetic excuse you came up with of wanting to sample human food. he should have gotten rid of you sooner yet no matter how much his hands twitch to unsheathe his shard sword, he just can’t seem to do it. no matter what his threats may seem or be heard of, the priest just can’t bring himself to harm you. if anything, he finds himself doing the absolute opposite, to his blatant horror.

“wait, no, don’t do that. the water just boiled so it’s hot, it could burn your tongue”

“you do realize that ice isn’t meant to be eaten, right? no, i don’t care how much of a pretty shape it’s in or if it still has the aftertaste of the coffee”

“if you eat too much raw red pepper, you could have a heart stroke. 14 is enough on one sitting. give it here”

yes, you get the point. a priest vanquishing demon, living together with a demon lord and even protecting them. hypocritical, right?

one night, as you two were cuddling on the couch and absentmindedly watching cliche horror movies that has demons with red skin and horns and a tail, that reminded something to blade. demons have unique demon forms depending on their sins and ‘birth’. but you never once showed an ounce of your demon form. not even a single slip-up.

“hmm? why do you ask? curious?” you hum softly, taking another fistful of the popcorn in the bowl. not that blade minded. if anything, he unconsciously pushed the bowl of popcorn closer to you.

“i guess so. you never even spoke of your demon form whether it has a tail or not” the priest mumbles, his husky voice turning softer just for a moment. or maybe he was just sleepy, judging by his dark eye-bags and little yawns.

oh right, you never did. but then again, blade never asked of your demon form before so, it’s to be expected after all.

just as blade had shrugged off your silence and turned his attention back to the tv, he felt something slithering around his waist. swallowing the sudden lump in his throat, he briefly looks down at what was wrapping around his waist. there, snug around his hips was a long, pale white, scaled, snake-like tail. it seemed incredibly long, judging by how it easily wrapped around his hips few times and the rest was just dangling off of the side of the couch.

was this…?

he could feel his hand twitch. itching, something under his skin itching of wanting to reach down and run his hand over the smooth looking scales of the tail.

pat! pat pat!

before blade could even make sense of what the fuck he just did, his hand had unconsciously unraveled from it’s former crossed position. one hand going down, flattening his palm over the smooth, large tail before giving it a few pats. at the same time, he could hear another low pat pat! sounds coming from the side of the couch. must be your tail ends flicking and hitting against the couch, he deducted.

briefly, blade steals a glance at your face. still watching the movie on the TV, seemingly paying no mind to the feeling of his human hand resting over your tail. it was oddly warm to the touch. from the look of it resembling a snake like tail, he expected it to be cold.

slowly, he runs his hand over the scales. soft, smooth and easily gliding over them as if it was nothing. sure, some bumps are felt on the palm of his hand but other than the occasional little ridges, it was completely smooth. how… soothing.

blade doesn’t know how or when but over the course of time you spent at his apartment, these little moments of playing with your tail had become a normal occurrence. little moments of “affection” if you will. fridays had become the weekly movie nights. blade would put on some random horror movie that you chose to be the most interesting based on the summary of the movie. half an hour or so into the movie and blade would feel the familiar scales of your tail wrap around his hips.

the priest would sometimes toy with your tail in hopes of getting you to show your true color of being a demon lord. to make you angry. to make you snap and finally show your true colors. if anything, it had the complete opposite effect as your tail only tightened around him. low, deep rumbling sounds akin to a purr coming from the depths of your chest.

briefly, the priest would catch himself wondering how it would feel to lay his head on your chest as you purr. cats have de-stressing and soothing qualities to their purrs. would demons be the same? sometimes, he would even catch himself thinking of… sacrilegious things. like how your tail would feel wrapped around his legs, opening him up for you. how your form could shapeshift and could have a human male’s anatomy. would you purposefully make it big? would you force it past his twitching rim, uncaring of his whines and pleads to wait?

ah, but that sounded so unlike you. despite being a demon lord, you have been nothing but calm and peaceful with blade. soft hums, nods of agreement, always needing his help and inquiring him of his thoughts on something.

then, would you coax him? whispering soft reassurances in the shell of his ear as you softly push your cock inch by inch inside him. a large, clawed, inhuman hand running over his stomach, talking about all sorts of things, promising to breed him full of your seeds as he cries. opening his legs wide with your tail wrapped around his thighs, wiping away his tears as he cries so prettily?

“f-fuck…” unknowingly, blade found himself with a little problem. another movie night, another time spent together ‘cuddling’. yet due to his own thoughts, blade finds himself embarrassingly hard. shit, he needed to find a way to leave the room and take care of his problem. but your tail way starting to curl around him in loops, just like how a snake would wrap itself around it’s prey.

did you know? know of his raging hard on and was just teasing him now? no. taking a brief glance at your face caused blade to come to a conclusion that you didn’t know. yet. that was the biggest part. or maybe you did considering just how your tail was moving around his waist. slipping under the hem of his shirt, slipping up, curling around his body under his shirt. scale coming in contact with skin. blade almost let out a moan at the feeling if it weren’t for him biting down on his lips.

“[n-name], get your tail off. i need to use the bathroom” internally cursing himself out for stuttering, blade can only hope that you would oblige. gods, just the way you let out a soft “hmm?” while playing innocent, smiling at him and blinking like nothing happened while your tail curls around his skin.

fuck, he was done for. you knew. you fucking knew.

“are you sure? your body seems to react positively from the amount of human interaction that i’ve had until now, blade” the end of your tail circles around his peck. slowly trailing the end as if you were going to squeeze—

“n-ngaah?!” a surprised noise comes from the priest’s mouth before he clenches his jaws shut, brows furrowing together as he tries to ignore the feeling on his chest. soft and slow circles. the end of your tail was wrapped around his nipple, pulling and rolling it between as if it was nothing. shit, when did his chest get so sensitive?

“oh that was a cute sound. do it again” you hum, turning away from the TV and looking at him now. curse you for looking so damn interested and curious as your tail fondles his nubs. blade can feel his pants starting to form a wet patch as his breathing becomes more labored.

“t-take… your goddamn tail off. i swear, i’ll ghh—! chop it into pieces…!” despite his best efforts, his words had no bite. just weak mumblings of a pathetic excuse of a priest being turned on as a literal demon lord tugs at his nipple. he was even starting to quietly whine in place as he tries to swallow down his moans.

“say, blade. i read from somewhere that human chest can lactate when stimulated enough. can you lactate?” blade almost shrieked at your words. lactating? him? while it was true that human women can lactate if they gave birth, he was unsure about men being able to lactate.

“n-no! can’t! i’m a man, it’s impossible for my chest to produce mi—ungh!” his words die quickly in his throat when your tail clenched around his nipple tightly. pulling on it, familiar to a pinching motion. since when did his body get so sensitive like this? or was this all your doing? did you secretly put a spell on him to make him sensitive?

“stop..! [n-name] stop ooungh! please, stop! i’m telling you, i’m a man. i can’t lactate like a woman!” his pleads fall on deaf ears as you slip his shirt off over his head. instead this time, using your hands to knead and fondle his pecks. squeezing, rolling his sensitive nubs between your fingers, even tugging on them. it all got blade letting out uncharacteristic high pitched noises like a cat in heat.

“p-please… stop this, [name]..” blade trails off, red in the face, shame, embarrassment and arousal swirling in his stomach like a hot bubbling lava as he admits defeat and whines helplessly.

“then wriggle yourself out of my tail. it’s loose around you, bladie” you briefly retort as you suckle on his nipple. mouth latched to his chest, biting and planting wet kisses all around his soft pink areola. as weak as his whimpers and pathetic his begging were, he really wasn’t making a single attempt to pull back. you have given him enough chances even now as your tail stays loose around him. yet he still tries to act like he hates it.

switching between giving attention to his two nipples with blade not even thinking of pulling himself out of your tail, the movie plays in the background, long forgotten. you were determined to make this weird human of yours lactate. you can make him!

it didn’t took much longer until blade let out a yelp as a warm liquid drops in your mouth. the taste oddly sweet and a bit thick in texture. realizing that his chest was feeling much more heavier and nipples felt more wetter than before, the priest’s eyes widen in horror and arousal. did you really managed to stimulate him enough to make him lactate?

“oh? so, i was right! humans can lactate regardless of their gender” you let out a soft giggle, internally cheering as a bright smile comes across your face. the sheer amount of exuberance you showed in his lactation had caused blade to feebly attempt to cover his chest.

“don’t! don’t look… it’s embarrassing…” the man whines, shaking hands covering up his leaking nubs. but that proves to be futile as his hands covering his chest had caused him to twitch. everything felt so much and so little at the same time. his poor cock was neglected and weeping, staining his pants as you stimulate his nipples as he whines.

this wasn’t supposed to happen! he wasn’t supposed to be this sensitive to your touches.

but the leaking of his milk had seemed to cause something to stir in your chest. an odd sense of possessiveness and need to claim him growing in your heart, tugging at it. laying your palm flat against his stomach, you rub slow circles onto it. somehow, it had helped to lessen blade’s embarrassment.

“bladie, how would you feel if i were to make you my baby momma?” your voice cuts him out of the trance like state he was in. blinking his eyes a few times with a weak “huh?” as if he hadn’t heard you. with a quiet chuckle, you ask again. repeating the question to him slowly in case he was too pleasure driven.

baby momma? but that’s something that people refer to when women get pregnant right? were you referring to making him pregnant? but that was impossible! he was a man and men had different anatomy compared to women’s!

“i can use a few spells. you would have a female anatomy. but only if you wish to be my baby momma. i would take good care of you and the kids, we’d be together as a cute family. don’t you think we’d be a cute family, blade?” he could briefly hear you hum. but the rest of your words flew over his head since the female anatomy part.

a female anatomy. blade would have a pussy, a womb, cervix the perfect anatomy to get pregnant. he would be a cute baby momma. your baby momma. and he would carry your kids. a child who was half you and half him, a cute bundle of sunshine.

“please… please do. make me your baby momma. i wanna be your b-baby momma..!” blade nods frantically, not even bothering to think over the consequences too deeply. but the prospect of having your kids, of having you inside him got blade rubbing his thighs together, head spinning with all sorts of thoughts as his breathing becomes labored. you said you would take good care of him and the kids! he’ll be in good hands.

although a part of his brain was screaming at him, telling him to withdraw from the touch of your palm running over his stomach, changing his insides, blade could only sit there dumbly. a baby. a cute baby that you two made together. it would be so sweet, so cute. blade couldn’t wait any longer as he silences the logical part of his brain. all he wanted was you now. just you and nothing else.

the process didn’t take long. a few strokes of your hand and soothing whispers to his ear and it was done. or at least, from what you said. and oh fuck, was it true. when you tugged his pants and boxers off, what greeted both of your eyes was a slick pussy, dripping with arousal. seeing how you had successfully changed him, the priest lets out a weak whine, closing his legs to hide himself.

you didn’t seem to like that. clicking your teeth as your tail wraps around his leg, pulling his legs apart and allowing your hungry eyes to feast on his dripping cunt. blade couldn’t help his whine as the feeling of being so empty took place in his head. or was it inside his womb that he felt so empty?

“so sweet. you would look so cute with my cum dripping out of you” you mutter, running a finger up his wet pussy. the action got his hips twitching, trying to make you push your finger inside himself. tutting softly, reminding him to be patient, you slowly ease a finger in. oh gods, the stretch felt so good. so full and filled already despite it being just a single finger that was now slowly massaging his plush walls.

the soft whines and gasps coming out of blade turns into a moan as he throws his head back on the couch. long, navy hair spreading over the mattress as your fingers scissor him open. you would have expected him to be more… reclusive considering his usual act. perhaps you were wrong. the way that blade was throwing his head back, moaning without shame as his warm walls suck your fingers in greedily caused you to almost mistaken him for a virgin. or maybe he was just touch starved. poor thing.

cooing words of how he was doing good, how his gushy cunt was sucking in your fingers so prettily, you lean down to pepper kisses on his clit. long, forked tongue coming out momentarily to slip inside him with your fingers, constantly flicking his clit. the action caused to have made him oversensitive. strong, scarred thighs coming up to wrap around your head, a hand fisting at your locks as loud, pathetic whines of “c-can’t! feelss sho weird! [n-name], can’t—gyuuck! aanh aah♡︎!!” trails off into a high pitched whines as his hips jerk. legs clamping around your head in a vice grip, fisting at your locks tightly as his back arches off of the couch so prettily as he squirts in your mouth. ah right, in your own haze, you’ve forgotten and accidentally pushed your tongue in too far, hitting his g-spot.

well, that was fine. the cold priest sounded so cute and tasted delicious as he twitches under you. it would be fine to fuck him open with your tongue and prepare him thoroughly.

blade doesn’t know what to think anymore. was he even able to think? all he could do was to moan and shriek, trashing about on the bed as something deep and long slithers inside him. his cunt was being fucked open, wet sounds coming out as he gushes all over your mouth, tongue and chin. fluids dribbling down to your chin as you continue to force his legs open with your tail, arms wrapped around his waist and pulling him back into your mouth and fingers.

by the time you thought of him as prepped enough and pull your tongue and fingers out, blade could only weakly whine at the feeling of something pulling out of his warm insides. legs shaking, face flushed as dried tear stains cover his cheeks. his pretty red eyes looked so hazy, mind filled with cotton and statics. you haven’t even gotten to the main part yet!

blade feels something wrap around him. something bigger, warmer and gentle. clawed hands wrapping around his slender waist, pulling him against a massive frame. was this… was he on your real form right now?

tilting his head back to look at you, his hunch proves to be correct. no longer were you in your small human disguise. large, pale white figure with horns, tail and claw holding him in a safe cocoon in it’s embrace. despite having deep hatred against your kin, the priest couldn’t bring himself to hate you. instead, he oddly found your real form beautiful.

“huh…?” his thought gets cut off short when he feels something poke at his entrance. looking down, a sharp gasp escapes him. by the gods were you huge. girthy and long, thick with need and ready to fill him to the brim with your seeds. blade wasn’t sure if he could take such a large thing inside himself as he instinctively shut his legs close.

almost as if sensing his inner worries, you place a hand over his stomach, other hand spreading his legs wider to make it easier for you to slip in.

“don’t worry, pet. i’ll make sure it fits” your deeper, almost inhuman voice hums right beside his ear, sending shivers down his spine. although your words were soothing, the large tip of your cock pushing past his walls, opening his cunt wider was definitely not comforting. fuck, just the tip inside and blade was already thrashing about, shaking his head and stuttering out how he can’t fit it inside him.

“w-wait! w-won’t hhgh fit! ish too big! too bigtoobigtoobig—! m-my lo—oough! aanh! ish t-too fu-uck! big♡︎♡︎” the human squeals, cries, sobs and moans. loud lecherous noises coming from both his mouth and cunt. wet noises flooding the room alongside the low grunts and deep growls. you sounded inhumane, you felt inhumane but blade loved it all the more. the priest loved being spread open by your large cock, pushing past his hole, feeling his plushy walls and insides. ah, he could die happily filled to the brim like this.

finally, after long minutes of slowly easing yourself inside, you managed to fit your cock inside him. snug to the brim, tip kissing his cervix and making blade squeal. legs shaking and twitching, he came on your cock again at the feeling of your tip kissing his cervix. he saw that you were big but not this big! gods, he felt so damn full.

“so pretty, my mate. so full of me and i haven’t even fucked you properly yet” you grunt, deep, inhumane voice breathing by his ear and making him shake and twitch in your grasp like a sweet fawn. blade wouldn’t mind being a sacrificial lamb to you.

through tear stained eyes and blurry vision, he could make out the faint outline of your cock in his stomach. you were too big to the point your were causing a bulge inside him by just slipping your cock inside. how full would he feel after you have properly made him a baby momma? cunt weeping out a mixture of your cum, belly bulging so cutely. just the imagination of such action made blade buck his hips weakly. too fucked out to even utter a word.

feeling the pathetic excuse of movement of your cock, you let out a low laugh. tail wrapped around one of his legs, the other held open by your hand as you finally bounce him on your cock. slowly, slipping yourself in and out and yet the priest in your hand was sobbing as he blabbers deliriously about being fucked dumb on your cock. of having your babies inside his own womb. of being your sweet mate.

blade was a big guy. in human terms and physique wise, he was big. and yet in your lap, held open by your hands, back to your chest as he allows himself to be dumbed down on your girth made blade realize just how damn small he was compared to you. sure, he was big in human terms but compared to you, he was absolutely nothing. just a small hole for you to use. a fleshlight to be filled with your cum until you were satisfied. your baby momma to have his chest fondled and squeezed until his chest grows sore and heavy. milk leaking out it small globs from his sensitive pink nipples.

“my pet. my cute mate. my sweet other half. my adorable breeding bitch uhng… so fucking tight. so warm and tight like the cute little thing you are” blade could briefly hear you groan, heavy breaths falling on his neck, making him shiver at each breaths. making him cry and moan in a shrill voice like a girl each time your cock slid inside him. plunging deeper into parts he never knew before, grazing that one soft spot that made him shriek, tip hitting his cervix at each thrust. blade was so sure that it was bruised now. not that he minded it, the pain felt good to him.

“y-yours—! yours yours yours! your c-cute ma—aaanhg! aaanh haagh gyaaamf♡︎ y-your mate. your oouungh other half. y-your adorable♡︎ breeding bitch—!” blade’s mouth fell open in a silent scream, head throwing back to your shoulder when he felt your hand press on the bulge in his stomach. it felt good. so good that he immediately squirted on your cock again at the sheer pleasure the pressure brought.

but of course you wouldn’t stop. you would keep going, forcing his small body to bounce on your cock, occasionally tweaking his nipples, rolling his clit between your fingers. you were damn adamant on making him pregnant, breed him until you were damn sure he was knocked up.

he was yours. your human. your mate. your fated other half. your cute breeding bitch and you would be damned all over again if he ends up not getting pregnant by the time you’re done. blade was yours. no one else would ever take him away from you. no one. no one no one no one, no one else—

“AAANGH! M-MY LORD♡︎ c-cock giick! sho full…” the human shrieks and twitches in your grasp, legs weakly thrashing around as you finally cum deep inside him. the warmth of your seed spurting inside his gummy walls, painting his insides white causing blade to cum again. blade felt so full, the skin of his stomach stretching a bit to accommodate to the great amount of cum that was inside him. it felt so warm and sticky. messy, as it dribbles down your shaft, his small human body unfit to keep it all inside himself.

“my cute mate…” you purr softly, arms wrapping around your mate as he twitches and shakes. cheeks stained with old and new tears, jaws slack with drool dribbling down with his face as red as his eyes. he was yours now. blade was your human now. the weird priest was yours and no one would ever take him away from you.

“mine” with that final declaration, you placed a soft kiss to the crown of his head. he seemed to relax at the kiss, sinking against your chest as he black out. that was fine. you’ll make sure to breed him again once he wakes up.

[swordgrace]

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐑 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 — 𝐈𝐕.

⠀ཾ༵ 𑁍┆ jacaerys velaryon x fem!reader.

SYNOPSIS: you and jacaerys go to claw isle, the ancestral seat of house celtigar, to treat with your brother. needless to say, tensions are high.

part of a series, read part three here.

{ FORMAT: one-shot, part of a series.

{ WORD COUNT: 11.7K (another long one).

{ WARNINGS: SMUT (mdni), creative liberties taken with claw isle & house celtigar, reader has a poor relationship with her brother, canon-typical misogyny, little bit of plot, lots of smut, overprotective jacaerys, p in v sex, unprotected sex, missionary position, mild breeding kink, first time oral sex (m!receiving), handjobs, cunnilingus, oral sex (fem!rec), body worship (f&m receiving), hair pulling kink, multiple orgasms, making out, lots of love declarations, jace only makes love, everything is extremely gentle, very soft aftercare

{ AUTHOR’S NOTE: Finally, it’s here! I’m really trying to get this series squared away before the season ends, but that’s definitely not going to happen. 😭 Nonetheless, I’m going to keep pushing for weekly to bi-weekly uploads with this and work on requests! As always, thank you all so much for your continued love and support! It means the world to me! I hope you all enjoy! ❤️

𝐀 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐒𝐞𝐚, 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐦, 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭.

Something about it seemed ominous and dark, as if there was an unseen presence lingering in the fog. The thick scent of saltwater stung your nostrils as you flew above the dark waters. It was not ideal weather for travel, especially upon the back of a dragon.

Vermax maintained a steady pace as you and Jacaerys flew to Claw Isle. The journey was lengthy, but the both of you were filled with an inner fire and determination to subdue your brother and bring the Celtigar fleet into the fold. It had been a handful of hours since your departure, growing closer and closer to your home.

If it weren’t for the constant feeling of peril and dread, you would’ve fallen asleep on the saddle, slumped against Jacaerys as he steered the dragon over a vast plane of coastal cliffs. He seemed quiet, contemplative — you assumed he thought of his mother.

Her disappearance to King’s Landing for reasons unknown had put a stressor on the War Council, all in complete disarray. Rhaenys was at the helm in an attempt to steer what was now a rudderless group, and Jacaerys could think of no better person suited to bring a gaggle of old men to heel.

It was important for you to maintain your resolve, support Jacaerys in whatever he needed. He was going to help fight your battles, but you wanted to help him, too. You couldn’t imagine the inner turmoil he was experiencing, calm on the outside. He was so selfless, rarely placing his own needs before your own, and if he did, it wasn’t done willingly.

The view of the ocean from the back of a dragon was enchanting — dark waters stretching as far as the eye could see, a thick haze hovering above, salty droplets of mist peppering across your cheeks as you flew. You neglected to inform Clement of your presence, preferring the element of surprise.

A serpentine cry escaped Vermax as he swooped over a line of trees atop a peninsula, prompting you to gasp and hold on tightly to the saddle. This was only your second time on dragonback, and thankfully, it wasn’t as frightening as the first — even then, they were unpredictable creatures.

“Are you alright?” Jacaerys asked, chest snug against your back, face nearly brushing your shoulder as he guided Vermax away from any cliffsides — for your sake, mostly. Despite the dire situation of the Council, he was more determined than ever to placate your brother. They needed the Celtigar fleet if they were to win the war.

You nodded, grip beginning to slack upon the saddle as the fog of misty clouds began to break, revealing an island in the distance. “We’re nearly there.” You replied, brows furrowing together as you came upon the island. It was strange to be home under such circumstances — you wish it were different.

Claw Isle was somewhat larger than Dragonstone, and Celtigar Keep rose high above the clouds, appearing in all of its glory. It was carved of white stone, turned gray and dark in coloration from many decades of weathering at seaside. It was pointed and arching with high, spindling towers, much of the castle was built in and around the rocky mass it sat atop.

The coastlines were clear, grayish shores that seemed to match the pallor of the Celtigar stronghold. Crackclaw Point, the peninsula, was more inhabited with towns and fishing villages, able to be spotted from where you flew. A lone fisherman on the beach stared overhead at the sight of a dragon making its descent somewhere far from the citadel walls.

A massive bridge connected Claw Isle to Crackclaw Point, an impressive contraption of thick stone that ferried denizens above the violet swell of the ocean’s tides. The banners of crimson crabs against a field of white fluttered in the distance, and you had to steel yourself from becoming trapped within the past.

The memories you held of home were not all bright and mirthful — some were horrible, others good, others muddled somewhere in between. You wondered how Clement would feel about your intrusion, answering his stubbornness and pride with that of a dragon, and then you realized that he would have no choice in the matter.

“Land far along the beach,” You instructed, feeling the steady beat of Vermax’s wings crawl to a halt as he descended. Jacaerys guided him to the shore, and the landing was hard, causing you to lurch forward within the saddle. “We will walk the rest of the way.”

Jacaerys dismounted first, sliding along the olive-and-sienna wing of his dragon, extending his arms out to you. As you moved down, albeit sluggishly, his hands circled your hips, grabbing you and placing you down onto solid ground.

A crack of thunder resonated overhead, accompanied with the swirling, ominous skies of an encroaching storm. Jacaerys held you still, pressing a kiss against your forehead. “If anything happens, you stay by my side.” He murmured, somewhat afraid that it would come to a fight. As long as he could reach Vermax, the odds were exponentially in his favor.

“Of course,” You reassured him, giving his forearms a gentle squeeze on either side of you. “If Clement is willing, we should have our fleet and be off by tomorrow. Though, I fear it might not be such an easy feat.” With a soft sigh, you stretched up upon your toes, kissing Jace with a brief flutter of passion.

It was soothing, being in the presence of one another. Jacaerys found it easier to simply exist with you without worrying about wandering eyes and being caught. You were somewhere unfamiliar, but he did not let his guard down. He reciprocated your kiss, keeping it chaste before the both of you began to walk down the strand.

Vermax paced along the coastline, flying from the wet sand toward the driftwood-strewn inclines and hills, blending in against the backdrop of tall pine trees. The dragon stayed close to Jacaerys’s side, but away from the wandering eyes of any potential hostilities.

Jacaerys felt your hand slip into his as the two of you made your trek to Celtigar Keep. You regailed him with tales of your home, from the massive stone stronghold to the vast amount of treasures that resided within. The dour curtain of veiled clouds hung low upon the strand, covering some of the Keep’s spires in a hazy fog.

It was not unlike Dragonstone in terms of intimidation — any fortress of such a grim caliber was sure to strike fear into those who saw it. Jacaerys found it to be beautiful, but not when an idiotic ruler sat inside of it. He didn’t want to cast judgment upon your brother so quickly, but he was doing very little to garner any sympathy.

“What is your brother like?” Jacaerys questioned, idly tracing his thumb over your knuckles. He wanted to prepare himself for whatever happened — and he had a hunch that he and Clement would butt heads like two rearing elk. “You rarely speak of him.”

There was a good reason for it, given your strained relationship. You hesitated, casting your forlorn gaze towards the beach instead, deciding on how to proceed. “Clement and I have not always had a good relationship,” You confessed, brows furrowing together. “He is stubborn and arrogant, but my father’s enablement of him simply worsened any negative qualities.”

Jacaerys listened closely, recognizing the frustration etched into your features. Whenever you spoke about Clement, it was never anything good. Your voice was often laced with irritation or a subtle pain. “Do you think he will listen to you?” His voice softened at his inquiry.

“I am unsure,” Admitting the bitter truth of the challenge that this mission presented was a hard pill to swallow. “I don’t think he will, but I must persuade him to listen and do what is right. It will be comforting to have you here with me.” You replied, offering Jace a threadbare smile.

“I wouldn’t have let you go alone,” Jace murmured, a tender smile tugging at either corner of his mouth. He feared becoming tempestuous in your brother’s presence — if hostilities or insults were hurled, there was no telling what he would do. “Is this the Keep where you grew up in?” He asked, motioning to the castle ahead.

The ocean lived within your blood just as much as that of Old Valyria — saltwater and the tides, intermingled with that of ancient ancestry. “Yes,” You replied, gaze drifting toward the scaling fortress of naval power, its walls and towers decorated with some oceanic motif. “It looked much brighter when I was younger.”

Jacaerys could envision you, a wide-eyed child, with a love of the sea, playing somewhere along the coast with the overbearing ire of your father. It was much like Driftmark, only Celtigar Keep was thrice the size and more like some dour mausoleum than a true castle.

“Should I worry about any hostilities from your brother?” Jace questioned, keeping one palm atop the pommel of his blade. The sword had been a gift from Daemon — despite the rift, it was an item of sentimental significance.

“My brother is half the fighter that you are, so I suspect not. His tongue is sharper than his blade — he wields insults instead of a sword.” You explained, and as you walked along the strand, the Keep became close and closer, coming into your focus. “Do not give him any satisfaction, or he will use it against you.”

It was good information to have, and Jace nodded, resolute and stalwart as his gaze turned from Celtigar Keep to you. There was a softness that found his features whenever he glanced at you, and he wanted nothing more than to steal you away and shower you with his affections.

Perhaps, if you were to stay at Celtigar Keep, he would be presented with ample opportunities.

It was foolish to think that way given the dire nature of your mission, providing his mother with an army and a fleet. The excitable, amorous nature of youth prevailed, but Jacaerys had other motives that offered some context to his desire. He’d been mulling it over for some time now, and the way forward had never been clearer.

As the both of you made it to the bridge, you crossed until you were faced with the bolted Gate of the Crab, a massive stone-wrought wall armed with crossbows and footsoldiers bearing the Celtigar tabard. They blocked your path, looking between you and Jacaerys with an air of concern and bewilderment.

“Who goes there?” A guard questioned, extending a polearm to bar your path.

“Lady Celtigar, daughter of Lord Bartimos, and Prince Jacaerys Velaryon of Dragonstone, son of Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen and heir to the Iron Throne.” You announced, happening to earn a brief smile from Jace’s end. He thoroughly enjoyed the way you introduced him, regal and with a lengthy list of titles and accolades to reinforce his position, and yours.

Both of the guards appeared shocked, glancing between one another before looking at you and Jace. He stood with his hands interlocked atop the pommel of his sword, crimson cape billowing in the wind. It bore the black-and-red Targaryen sigil, doublet stitched with silver dragons and intricate patterns.

“What business does the Prince have with Lord Celtigar?” A guard piped up, demanding a suitable answer before allowing either of you inside. He addressed Jacaerys with a certain level of sternness, as if it would intimidate him — it didn’t in the slightest.

“It does not matter whether or not I have business with your lord. What matters is that Lady Celtigar is here to treat with her brother — why deny her that satisfaction?” Jacaerys quipped, brows furrowing together. His abilities in diplomacy and action had improved greatly since his time with Lord Cregan Stark in the North.

A wariness grew between the guards, who looked to the crossbowmen supplanted along the walls, and the back to the both of you. Still, they hesitated on letting either of you inside — until Vermax appeared. The dragon let out a screech, flying right over the bridge you stood upon before circling around into the thicket of pines.

Jacaerys smiled triumphantly, head canting to one side. “Surely, you will not deny us now.” He quipped, hovering protectively at your flank, curls billowing with the saltwater breeze. The guards swallowed whatever fear had risen into their throats, and promptly stepped aside, opening up the gates.

You fought to withhold the look of amusement upon your face, passing through the Crabgate with Jacaerys. Having Vermax at your side was an excellent idea, and you had to credit Jace for his ingenious use of dragons. Diplomacy wasn’t something either of you were used to, but it was a role worth growing into.

The grounds of Celtigar Keep were vast, an oceanic aesthetic interwoven into the architecture. The sigil of the red crab was everywhere you looked, repeated again and again. Jacaerys appeared perplexed, brows furrowing together as he observed his surroundings. It reminded him much of Driftmark.

The castle now seemed aware of your presence, the Lady Celtigar and the Heir to the Iron Throne, walking in-tandem toward the Great Hall. The guards allowed you passage through the courtyard and the grounds of the Keep, the hall looming in the distance, wreathed in a shroud of gray mist.

Jacaerys steeled himself for what was to come, meeting your brother head-on in his own home. From what little of him you’d described, he was his own age, nine-and-ten, bullheaded with little knowledge of how to truly rule. A challenge that he welcomed, truthfully — if he was to one day ascend the throne, he would need to know how to deal with unruly subjects.

A set of stairs ascended towards the Great Hall, marked by braziers, crabs holding large bowls with still-smoldering embers inside. The hour was beginning to grow late, sometime in the evening, and you and Jacaerys were both weathered from the journey.

As the guards opened the doors to the Great Hall, it was nothing more than a large room, dome-shaped with windows above, allowing for natural light to trickle through. Each column that held the hall aloft were wreathed in stone motifs of crabs and seaweed, winding down toward the floor.

In the primary seat of House Celtigar, a throne fashioned from the very rock that the Keep stood upon, sat your brother, Clement. He seemed less than enthused with your presence, but perplexed nonetheless, gaze drifting between both yourself and Jacaerys.

“You could’ve sent a raven, sister. I had no idea of your coming to Claw Isle,” Clement sat slumped within his supposed throne, one hand tucked into a fist beneath his chin, the other tapping against the stone arm. “It seems you’ve brought a guest.”

“In your colorful missive to me, you implored me to not send any more ravens,” You retorted, folding your hands together. “I did what anyone would do — came to see you in-person.” It had been two years, and Clement seemed older in the face, but his demeanor hadn’t changed in the slightest.

Clement scoffed, brows furrowing together at your snide comment. You were determined and ambitious, he would give you that, but he was prepared to turn you down immediately. “You’ve come here to do what, exactly? Demand half of my fleet? Admonish me for sending our father away? What outcome did you expect from this?”

Jacaerys answered instead, his tone steely and measured, the kingly voice of a man striving to fight for his mother’s claim and his own. “We expect half of your forces, as promised. Your house swore an oath to Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen — do not make your family look foolish.” He retorted, visage one of stalwart composure, a glare thrown in Clement’s direction.

“Remind me — who are you?” Clement questioned, his tone tinged with an edge of mockery as he looked upon Jacaerys with disdain. Two young men of different morals and caliber preparing to butt heads — you couldn’t imagine that this would go well.

“Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, son of Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, Prince of Dragonstone and heir to the Iron Throne,” He declared, hands interlocked atop the pommel of his sword. “Ensuring that you hold your oath fulfilled.” Jacaerys did not like your brother — there was an arrogance there that irritated him.

Clement scoffed, turning his attention to you again, hands folding together within his lap. “Brought your Prince with you, did you, sister?” He sneered, his expression sour before he shook his head. “Where is that dragon of yours? Shall you burn me where I stand if I do not do as the Queen demands?”

“My Lord, your house is pledged to Queen Rhaenyra, surely you will not —” One of Clement’s advisers, Lord Mydas Smythe, an older man with a rather bushy set of brows, implored your brother to listen to reason.

“The fleet is needed here, in the defense of Claw Isle and Crackclaw Point. Ser Criston Cole is parading through the Riverlands, unchecked and unchallenged. Soon, he will turn his sights to us. Though, I will show you kindness and give you two ships — for your troubles.” Clement snapped, waving a hand dismissively at Lord Smythe.

“You seem very worried for a man cowering behind his castle walls,” Jacaerys relented, shoulders squaring up against Clement, dark brows furrowed together in a look of complete and utter spite. “Since you have your armies and acclaimed fleet, why not ride out and meet Cole yourself?”

Clement’s mouth twitched, throat growing thick with rage as he was put in his place before his Court, by a boy with little experience of anything. “I cannot say I’ve heard much of your valor either, Prince of Dragonstone. Instead, you’ve come to play politics with my airheaded sister.”

“Mind your tongue before Lady Celtigar.” Jacaerys’s voice was sharp and smoldering with rage when Clement so blatantly insulted you, and he nearly retorted again if it weren’t for you. He bristled, jaw unnaturally tense as he prepared to fight for your honor.

Your hand slyly tugged upon the sleeve of his doublet, urging him not to act just yet. He remained quiet, adhering to your advice as he silently fumed, glaring at Clement with all of the tempestuous ferocity of a young dragon. If a look could burn one where they stood, your brother would’ve been ash and bone.

“I would ask you to reconsider,” Your voice subtly quivered, anxiousness beginning to get the better of you. “Please, Clement. This is the cause our father pledged to — and it is a worthy one. We cannot have our house branded as oath breakers. Do not throw everything away for the sake of your pride.”

Your brother’s nostrils flared, fingers clenching together into a tight fist as he fought to maintain his composure before his small court. “My pride?” He quipped, tone harsh and unyielding before he exhaled, turning away for a brief moment. “I will have my answer for you on the morrow. For now, you are guests in my Keep — do not take advantage of my hospitality.”

Perhaps, you had gotten to Clement, even if it was for the briefest of moments. Your father had always favored your brother, but pushed him too far — excelling in everything, shoved to the very edge of greatness at the cost of his own sanity.

Lord Smythe seemed rather disappointed in Clement’s lack of action and propriety. The older man looked to you with a withering expression, visibly apologetic before he bowed and took his leave. You offered him a thin smile, one of subtle reassurance.

The halls remained eerily quiet, thick with a strained tension that threatened to erupt between Clement and Jacaerys, in particular. You wanted to avoid a physical confrontation — and you knew that Jace wouldn’t shy away, being twice the fighter that your brother was.

Despite Jace’s desire to continue pressing him, he yielded, hands gripping the pommel so tightly that it threatened to snap into two. He hated the way Clement treated you, as if you were insignificant and unimportant, more of a nuisance than true family.

One of the guards stepped in as Clement stood from the Celtigar seat, giving you a disparaging stare before he disappeared, slipping through one of the crab-adorned doors. Knights in his service followed dutifully, leaving you and Jacaerys in the Great Hall, save for the presence of guardsmen and a handful of advisors.

The halls of Celtigar Keep were incredibly familiar to you, and the guard inevitably escorted you and Jacaerys to your chambers, your quarters down the corridor from his own. Yours happened to be the very same you stayed in for most of your life, until you were made to become Rhaenyra’s lady-in-waiting.

Your chambers were far more lavish than your humble accommodations on Dragonstone, but you much preferred it to Celtigar Keep. Here, everything seemed hollow, and memories stirred with you — most of them evoked a sense of melancholy. You hoped that your time here was short and fleeting, if it all went in your favor.

𝐂𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐞𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐦, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝, 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.

You had barely touched your food, pacing your newfound surroundings, studying the old decorations you had scattered about your chambers.

Many fixings had belonged to you since childhood — relics of your youth scattered atop the mantle above the hearth, gowns tucked away that you hadn’t worn since your teenage years. It evoked a strong sense of nostalgia, perhaps a yearning for the past.

Jacaerys did not want to stay put in his assigned chambers for long. With haste, he stealthily moved through the door and made for your room, unseen and filled with a sense of excitement.

Before you could leave to sneak away to Jacaerys’s room, he was already at your door, quietly slipping inside with his belongings, silvery platter of seafood included. “Are you going somewhere?” You questioned, watching as he hastily stepped across the room to set his meal beside yours.

“No,” Jacaerys replied, facing you with a soft expression. “Just here,” He hesitated, searching your face for any sign of discomfort or protest at his subtle request. He cared very little for the repercussions or consequences — you were no longer on Dragonstone, and the scrutiny of your relationship wasn’t something that worried him. “If you are agreeable to it.”

A smile spread across your features, vibrant and uplifting despite the charged, dour situation earlier that evening. “There is nowhere else that I’d want you to be,” You replied, heart stirring within your chest as your stomach filled with the excitable churning of butterflies. “If you didn’t come, I would’ve found my way to you eventually.”

Content and warmed by your words, Jacaerys found it difficult to suppress a grin of his own, mirth twinkling within his eyes. “There aren’t as many wandering eyes here,” He mused, placing his knapsack on top of your footlocker. “I thought perhaps, I could stay this time — until the dawn.”

A semblance of delight rippled through you, accompanied with your still-flourishing love for him. Jacaerys being here meant a great deal to you, more than he would ever realize. To have him insist that he share your bed until morning made you most elated. “Please stay.” You insisted.

He made himself comfortable, careful gaze absorbing each and every detail of your chambers. The relics and trinkets organized on shelves intrigued him, some of them being handmade dragons and knights. Jace picked up one of them, crafted from stone, turning it over within the light.

“I am sorry for my brother,” You sighed, shrugging your overcoat aside, draping it over the foot of your bed. The gowns you wore beneath were tattered and muddied at the ends, used for traveling and practical purposes. “I did not want you to be the subject of his ire.”

Jacaerys’s jaw tensed slightly at mention of your brother, whose tongue would be cut away if he made another insult against you. “He sullies your good name,” He murmured, brows furrowing together as he studied the intricacies of your chambers. “I apologize if I lost my temper. I loathed the way he spoke to you.”

Admittedly, you felt quite the opposite — his protectiveness over you was incredibly attractive and gallant, qualities that you adored about him. “I do believe that he needs to be humbled, and you do it so brilliantly.” You replied, fidgeting with the ends of your sleeves. It was an old dress made for travel. “Thank you for defending me.”

His brown hues softened once more, dancing with an immeasurable amount of affection for you, a bright ardor that refused to be snuffed out. “You needn’t thank me,” Jacaerys stepped closer, lips briefly pressing against your forehead. “I will always protect you, until my last breath.” His words were a solemn vow, not easily broken.

With a soft exhale, you squeezed his hand, careening into his warm embrace. “Are you hungry? We could eat, if you’d like. I suspect that nothing will come of this evening until we treat with my brother tomorrow.” You sighed, knowing that waiting would make everything worse.

“Plenty of time on our hands,” Jacaerys chimed, yet his honeyed words seemed thick with implications of how to fill your unoccupied time. It was on your mind just as heavily, yet you pretended to be clueless, canting your head to one side. “Let’s eat.”

It would give the both of you ample time to figure out some play or strategy when it came to Clement. You knew that with enough pressure and whittling, he would finally obey your demands. Nevertheless, you didn’t want to plague your mind with doubt — not now, anyway.

Lukewarm seafood sat piled upon porcelain plates, accompanied by generous helpings of roasted vegetables and hunks of half-stale bread. It was better than scraps or rations, and you led Jacaerys toward the small, ornate table situated within your quarters.

It felt so blissful like this — alone with him, basking in the moment, enjoying a meal together without fear of interruptions or speculation. You sat diagonally from one another, candlelight dancing atop the driftwood table as you cut into your filet of fish.

“If we cannot convince your brother to deliver on his oath, what then?” Jacaerys asked, jaw tensing. He didn’t want to fight your brother, but if that’s what was needed of him, he would do it without question. “We cannot return home empty-handed.”

Your shoulders sank in a brief sigh. “Clement is foolish, arrogant, and stubborn — but he knows when to give it up. This is all some display and spectacle meant to goad me, but I won’t give him the satisfaction.” Glancing at Jace, you seemed more determined than ever. “And neither should you.”

That would be a difficult feat, biting his tongue while your brother assailed you with bitter, venomous words. Jacaerys would sooner cut his tongue for it than sit idly by while you suffered. “I won’t let him tarnish your honor, and I will not sit by while he insults you. I cannot do it.” He replied, shaking his head.

“Sometimes, that is what you have to do, Jacaerys. I promise that I can handle it. I just — I don’t want you to fall prey to his viciousness, that’s all.” You loved all of Jacaerys — everything about him was good, even his sharp tongue and quick temper.

Jace stared at you, love burning within his eyes, coupled with that of an unwavering devotion. “I wouldn’t stoop to that level,” He reached for your hand, digits tracing across the ridges of your knuckles. “Not with you.” Solemn and stalwart, he squeezed your fingers, and you returned the gesture.

“You’re a good man, Jacaerys.” You crooned, steadfast in your belief in him, in your own devotion. Part of you always feared that the fantasy would fade and duty would pledge him to another, but so far, it hadn’t happened yet. You hoped that it stayed that way. “I am fortunate to keep your company.”

He brought your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss atop your knuckles before he released you, returning to his food with disinterest. “My heart is yours,” It was the same, saccharine assurance he’d stated time and time again. “Until the end of my days.”

Jacaerys wanted this for the rest of his life — and he could have it. He was going to ask you. Perhaps not now, but the moment felt right, and it could be upon him instantaneously if he wasn’t prepared. The idea of you being his wife, enjoying meals like this in the sanctuary of your chambers together, unperturbed by prying eyes — he wanted this, and he wanted you.

Through deliberate bites of sautéed seafood, Jacaerys gazed at you with a doe-like expression, studying your beautiful features, the way you treated him to a smile when you caught him staring. He was the fortunate one, the luckiest man alive in the realm to have fallen in love with you, and with every breath he drew, he only loved you more.

When you caught his smoldering gaze, you felt a familiar warmth dance along the length of your spine. Smitten, you absentmindedly dabbed at the corner of your mouth with your cloth. “Do I have something on my face?” You questioned, feeling gluttonous for consuming your food so quickly.

Seafood was a commonality on Claw Isle, but it tasted wonderful each time — perhaps it was the familiarity of it and the warmth of home that made you feel this way. Nonetheless, you sat back within your seat, feeling undeniably hot beneath Jacaerys’s tender stare.

“You’re incredibly beautiful, that's all.” He hummed, heart swelling tenfold when you began to giggle. Jace wondered if it seemed too silly, doting on you during dinner, but you didn’t protest whatsoever. “You have nothing on your face, if it makes you feel better.”

His sweetly-spoken compliments made your insides melt, turning to a pool of heat as you played with your fork. You smiled at Jacaerys as if he were the sun itself, warm and vibrant, keeping you in his orbit. “I love you.” You hummed, and as you finished your meal, you gently stood up, pressing a kiss against the top of his head in-passing.

Jacaerys felt his features turn warm with a rosy coloration, though he wondered what you were doing, watching as you paced across your chambers. You knelt beside the hearth, adding more kindling and wood onto the fire before you dusted your hands off on your skirts.

“These chambers were my home for the longest time,” You sighed, peering over the gray walls, decorated in plenty of your own furnishings and personal touches. “It is strange to be back here, but having you with me makes it all much more bearable.”

Removing himself from the table, he joined you in touring your quarters, following you past the small set of doors into the sanctity of your bedroom. It hadn’t been used in years, everything perfectly in-place, the same as you left it. You opened up your wardrobe with a huff of laughter.

“What is it?” Jacaerys asked, head canting to one side as you removed one gown in particular. It was resplendent and beautifully-made, handcrafted with silver embroidery against fields of cream and crimson — the colors of House Celtigar.

“My father had this made for me when he attempted to find me suitable marriage prospects,” You explained, chewing at the inside of your cheek. Thankfully, you were sent away before you could be married to some middle-aged man from the Stormlands. “I never did get to wear it.” You mused.

He envisioned you in it so very clearly — perfection incarnate, in his eyes. Jacaerys’s gaze softened at the sight of you, exuberant and smiling at him with affection interwoven into your features. “You would look beautiful in it,” He murmured, lips twitching into a soft smile. “Though, you look enchanting in anything and everything.”

You loved him so deeply, letting it seep into your bones, filling you with an insurmountable feeling of ardor. Being alone with him without fear of intrusion was a wonderful feeling, something that you wished you could have more of — on Dragonstone and everywhere else.

With a soft exhale, you stowed the dress aside, gently shutting the massive, gilded doors to your wardrobe before peering to the window. It was nearly sundown, the sunset hidden behind darker sheets of gray, thick clouds, but nighttime was close on its heels.

“Did your father ever succeed in finding you a suitable betrothal?” Jacaerys inquired, picturing you in that gown, standing by his side when he asked your father for your hand. The question was innately harmless, perhaps his own curiosity getting the best of him, but he needed to know.

The question blindsided you, filling you with a sense of mild bewilderment as you cleared your throat. “No,” It was better that way — if you had been betrothed, you might’ve never formed the bond with Jacaerys that you had. You wouldn’t trade it for anything. “He did not, and I am thankful for it — I met you.”

Jacaerys gazed at you with true love, brown hues swirling with tenderness and an adoration that drowned out everything else. He could no longer imagine his existence without you in it, and he loathed to think what could’ve happened had you already been promised to another.

Now, that possibility to become a union seemed very real, a reality that was just within his grasp, so visceral and raw that even he could see it in his mind’s eye. Jacaerys smiled at that, briefly pressing a kiss against your temples before he settled down. “I am thankful for it, too.” He confessed, voice soft and assured.

“I’m going to change out of this dreadful thing,” You mumbled, pinching the muddied fabric between your fingertips as you cleared your throat. “Are you tired?” Admittedly, exhaustion hadn’t gripped you yet — you were somewhat awkward, having Jacaerys here in your chambers.

There was no need to hurry, no suspicions, nothing to rush — it was just the both of you until tomorrow. Of course, there were always certain proclivities on your mind, but you held your tongue, for now.

“Not entirely,” Jacaerys replied, removing his leather belt and scabbard, placing both beside the foot of your bed. It was beautiful, with four towering posts draped in a curtain of cerulean silk. Even he felt the unusual tension, attempting to alleviate it with a smile. “I suppose I’ll join you.”

Something gnawed at him — the very same question he’d been mulling over within his mind for a week now, perhaps even before then. Jacaerys observed in rapturous silence as you removed an embroidered evening slip from your wardrobe, the silk nearly translucent, the color of sage.

He swallowed the growing lump within his throat, attempting to quell his nerves, but to no avail. Jacaerys had never known fear quite like this before — there were different shades of terror. The fear of death and loss, a fear of war, perhaps — but none so great as a fear of rejection.

You sluggishly peeled away your coarse dress, tugging at the leather ties as it loosened, slack upon your body. It was tattered and trimmed with mud at the edges, prompting you to toss it somewhere onto the floor. The smallclothes you wore were much of the same, common garments crafted for travel.

A semblance of sweet warmth and ardor seemed to make a permanent residence upon Jace’s features as he watched you disrobe. Those brown hues of his traced over your delicate curves, every facet of your physique committed to memory.

Your beauty was one only described in fairytales and the ballads written by wayward poets — a beauty that Jacaerys often found himself in awe of. As you carefully pried away your smallclothes to put on the silken slip in its place, his breath caught within his throat.

This could be his life — he could not picture it without you anymore. It all seemed so gray and lonely without you by his side, without your steadfast support and belief in him, without your love. If the future was as bright as he imagined it to be, he could see you as his Queen, his wife, his equal in all things.

Perhaps it was his duty to make his intentions known — to have his mother’s blessing before swearing an oath, to have the favor of your father, but it all seemed inconsequential. He no longer feared consequences, no longer feared the brashness of such a decision.

War would continue to ravage the Seven Kingdoms, consuming all with it, perhaps his own life, should it go in such a route. If he perished, what then? The love he had for you would endure, the mark he left upon your life would endure, but what of your bond? What of marriage, of your union?

Jacaerys could not continue on without asking you the most important question he would ever ask.

“Be my wife.”

Time stood still, and you swore that your heart exploded within your chest. You couldn’t believe it, unsure if you had heard Jacaerys right or if it was all a very wonderful fantasy. Turning upon your heel, you faced Jacaerys with a bewildered, shocked expression.

“What?” With your voice barely above a whisper, you felt your stomach swirling with butterflies, an incendiary heat licking across your spine with a fervor. Your hands wrung together, folded across your midsection.

Jacaerys’s lips parted as he stood taller, shoulders squaring as he approached you, hands seizing yours as he reaffirmed his love for you. “I am so desperately in love with you,” He whispered, attempting to catch his breath, thumbs tracing across your knuckles. “I cannot imagine a life without you, and I cannot imagine continuing to go on knowing that I am not your husband.”

“Jacaerys.” You gasped, unable to withhold the swell of emotions that stirred within you. Tears pricked at your eyes, a byproduct of the onslaught of sentiment you felt, all hitting you at once. It was an amalgamation of adoration, devotion, love, passion — it all seemed to wash over you immediately.

“I would ask you to be the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms — together, with me. I would ask that you marry me upon the shores of Dragonstone, amongst fire and brimstone, salt and sea,” Jace murmured, gently pressing his forehead against yours for a brief moment. “I would ask that you allow me to hold your heart forever.”

Disbelief rippled through you, the initial shock dissipating into the unbelievable love you had for him — an ardor that transcended any bonds of propriety. You loved him fiercely yet gently, loved him for everything he was and everything he would be. You lifted your joined hands to your chest.

“There is no one else for me in this world, Jacaerys Velaryon,” You crooned, pressing your lips against his palm. “I am yours, until my last day — and I will love you forever.” You felt his breath hitch slightly as you drew closer, snug against his chest as you gave him a rather exuberant smile, eyes sparkling with tears. “Nothing would please me more than marrying you.”

Relief flooded through him, and the weight of fear lifted from his shoulders. It was enough to make him audibly sigh with joy as he reached to cup your face, swiping away at the singular tear falling across your cheek. He was smiling so much that it almost made his chest burst with happiness.

“We are betrothed,” The overwhelming excitement that crept into your tone was difficult to miss, and you wanted to kiss him a thousand times over. “I cannot wait to refer to you as my husband.” An ebullient giggle escaped you when Jacaerys picked you up, spinning you in a circle as he caged you in against his chest.

His mouth sought yours, the kiss charged with an excitable passion as he held you close, hands kneading at your curves through the thin silk. “My wife, the most perfect woman in all of the realm,” He mused, thumbs drawing slow circles into your hips. “You are mine, and I am yours.” Jace whispered.

Again, you clamored for a kiss, turning the joy of your shared moment into passion, manifesting into the first inklings of desire. He was quick to reciprocate, continuing to gently feel along your body, your perfect curves hidden beneath such sheer fabrics.

You kissed him hard, hands dragging towards his tunic, tugging at the collar of it as your kiss melted from sweet and innocuous to passionate. The feeling of not having to limit yourself or fear intrusion was exhilarating — and you hoped that it meant there would be plenty of time for exploration.

It was only when he pulled away just slightly to gaze at you did you realize how much this meant to you, how much you loved him. You wanted all of him — his heart and his intellect, protective nature, his body and soul. Your hands continued to trace across his clothed chest, lips parted slightly.

“I want to take my time with you,” Jacaerys murmured, fingers gently sweeping across the now-faded cut upon your brow, tucking hair behind your ear. “If you’ll allow me the pleasure.” He never proceeded without your consent, gazing at you as if you were the only thing in the world that mattered.

The familiar sting of arousal pooled between your legs, accompanied by a wave of heat. He spoke so tenderly, digits continuing to caress along your brow, swiping down towards your cheek. “Of course.” You whispered, hands skimming beneath his tunic. “As long as you’ll allow me to return the favor.”

A pang of exhilaration rippled through him as he nodded, lips twitching into a smile. He didn’t know what you meant by returning the favor, but it intrigued him. There was nothing that could stop either of you — and he intended on savoring every moment with you.

You gently coaxed him toward the plush armchair near your vanity, easing him down against the cushions. Jacaerys sat upright, hands moving toward your hips again, kneading into your pliant flesh. It allowed you to stoop down, lips molding against his as your fingers found the hem of his tunic again.

Clothing shuffled against eager hands as you removed Jacaerys’s tunic, graced with lean, pale muscle and a canvas of freckles beneath your palms. You planted your hands against his chest, fingertips dancing over every freckle, every line of taut muscle.

Jace shuddered at your exploratory embrace, savoring the feeling of your fingers tracing every inch of him, committing his musculature to memory. “I wanted to try something, if you’ll let me.” You murmured, lowering yourself to your knees before him.

There was an instantaneous notion of shock, Jacaerys’s eyes widened in surprise as he swallowed the growing lump within his throat. “What — What are you doing?” He asked, throat hoarse with desire. “You do not have to, never feel obligated to do such things, I —”

“Jacaerys,” You interjected, ensuring that your voice was barely above a whisper. Your palms soothingly caressed along his thighs, and his cock immediately roused, stirring within his breeches. “I want to please you. I would like to try, that’s all.” He still seemed apprehensive, but obliged nonetheless.

He preferred to serve you, face between your legs, tongue savoring your sweetness. He imagined that it was something he could do after this, but for now, he simply tried to relax and let you try something new. Goosebumps coalesced along his spine as your digits reached for the ties of his trousers, loosening them up.

A sliver of him couldn’t deny the thrill and exhilaration that coursed through him, the excitement. You were breathtakingly beautiful, ethereal and everything he had ever wanted, there in the flesh. “You are beautiful.” He whispered, staring at you with doe-like eyes.

Warming beneath his softly-spoken compliment, you preened, lips twitching into a comely smile. “As are you.” You assured, feeling his lips find yours for a brief moment as you freed his cock, taking his hardened length into your silky palm.

Jacaerys sat back as best as he could, lips parted, visibly flustered as you began to stroke from base to tip, thumb tracing over the flushed head. He groaned, hands gripping the back of the settee with all of his strength. It felt incredible — you only enhanced everything.

Your palm spread out against his thigh, giving you a perch, something to brace yourself against as you wrapped your mouth around the head of his cock. A sharp exhale escaped Jacaerys, whose body trembled from the foreign sensation, hand suddenly reaching down to find yours.

It was intimate, a sweet gesture despite the lewd act, digits twining together atop his thigh. Your mouth was soft and incredibly gentle, exploratory at your core as you bobbed your head in sluggish, rhythmic motions. Jace felt hot, unable to focus, but he did not force you to do anything more.

“Gods, you are incredible.” He breathed, stomach churning with a fiery heat, a sensation that mirrored your own. Molten liquid pooled within the pit of your belly, coalescing between your thighs at the sound of Jace’s pleasure. Instead of tugging on your hair, he simply caressed your cheek, watching for any sign of discomfort on your end.

With Jace’s fingertips carefully tracing across your face, you continued to tease his cock, hand stroking in sure movements as your mouth did the rest. It was brief, fleeting laps of your tongue across the head of his cock or suckling upon it altogether.

It felt strange and slightly sloppy, as if you weren’t doing something correctly, but instinct guided you. Jacaerys seemed to enjoy it regardless, hips occasionally jolting forward, followed by a soft, mumbled apology. He held himself in-check, squeezing your hand when you kissed along his length.

There was a vast amount of tenderness between the both of you, allowing for everything to be handled with gentleness and care. He didn’t push you or coax you further, simply relaxed and allowed you to do however much or little you wanted.

Between the shy laps of your tongue intermingled with the ministrations of your hand, Jacaerys worried about how long he would last in this state. Your mouth was divine, bringing him closer to a blissful beyond, abdomen tightening with a flurry of arousal.

The bitter slick of precum oozed along his length, but you paid little attention to it, continuing to pump your hand along his cock. Instead, you peppered sweet kisses against his thigh and hips, causing him to seize up and groan.

His countenance was one of beauty, contorted into a look of sheer bliss, eyes closed, mouth agape as his head rolled back against the lounge. Your fingers remained interlocked, his thumb occasionally grazing your knuckles as you kissed towards his abdomen.

Your hand remained steadfast, caressing his cock, allowing your fingers to stroke from base to tip. Jace let out a husky moan, hand involuntarily reaching for your hair. His grip was delicate, digits gingerly kneading at your scalp. The sensation was incredible, and even you felt some satisfaction from it.

The suddenness of his release seemed to catch him off-guard, muscles tense and seizing, pleasure unfurling within his stomach like a wildfire. Jacaerys moaned your name, a sound so divine coming from his mouth. He trembled in the aftermath, visage flushed with embarrassment.

He felt pitiful for this, but he couldn’t help himself, shaking from the intensity of it all. “I did not mean to …” Before Jacaerys could speak another word, you pressed your hand against his mouth.

“It was perfect.” You corrected, palm slick with his seed as you stood to clean yourself, finding a towel sitting along the edge of your vanity. You returned to do the same for him, dutifully cleaning the sticky spend from his stomach.

Visibly flustered, Jace cleared his throat, sitting up a little straighter as he attempted to compose himself again. He wanted to give you more — everything, if he could. “I do not want to stop.” He whispered, gazing at you with a look of desire, hand reaching to cup your face.

That alone was enough to make your insides melt, lips parting as you nodded several times over. “Neither do I.” You breathed, and with that, your mouths collided in a fury, ardor and want bleeding through, consuming the both of you in a tidal wave.

His cock twitched again, lust renewed, yet his love for you seemed to outweigh everything else. He made sure to loosely tie his breeches up again — not that they would be on for much longer, at this pace. Jacaerys kissed you again and stood, offering you his hand.

You took it, as a lady would a prince, and he immediately pulled you into his arms, sweeping you right up off of the ground. He carried you gallantly, cradling you to his chest as you smiled, coaxing him in for a sweet kiss. Jace carried you to your bed, placing you down against the silken sheets and feathered duvet.

“I love you,” He murmured, finding his footing between your legs, the silken slip coming to gather around your hips. Despite the sensuality of it all, the lust and carnal appetites you held for one another, love conquered it all, and tenderness prevailed. “Ñuha hūra embar.”

My moonlit sea — the love of his life.

A gentle fluttering stirred within your chest, the sound of your heart calling his name — you would never love another. It was Jacaerys’s name upon your mind, emblazoned into your very bones. You kissed him, the fire stoked, even if it wasn’t a raging one.

As he neared you, your fingers found their purchase within his mane of thick curls, tugging on them incessantly, mouth tangling with his. A breath apart, you held him close, feeling the chill of saltwater air brush along your legs.

“I love you, Jacaerys.” You whispered, allowing it to slip from your lips a few times more, and he was lost in you. Jacaerys’s hands moved to the hem of your nightgown, aiming to rid you of the thin fabric, exposing yourself to him completely.

Each time he saw you bare, it was like the first time all over again — in-awe of your beauty, completely and utterly unparalleled. His mouth found the delicate curve of your jaw, kissing you in a slow, steady trail down your neck, and then to the hollow of your throat.

Every kiss was warm and lingering — he took his time with you, finding no reason to rush. His lips felt like hot brands, emblazoning themselves upon your flesh. Jace kissed across your collarbone, and you began to shift with anticipation. You wanted his face between your thighs, his hands interlaced with yours.

Jacaerys found the plush swell of your breasts, mouth kissing along each one, over your nipples, and through your sternum. He was careful, intentionally savoring each and every kiss, drinking in your presence as if it were his lifeblood.

He delved lower, shuddering when he felt your fingers find his crown of tousled curls, mouth embracing your stomach until he found your hips. The moment was incredibly intimate, with Jace kissing wherever his mouth could reach, ensuring that you received every last drop of his affections.

You were a goddess — perfection incarnate, breathtakingly beautiful beneath him. Jacaerys’s mouth graced your thighs, shoulders spreading them apart as he kissed his way down to your slick core. Heat washed over him in the wake of discovering how aroused you already were.

This was something he’d sorely missed, the taste of your cunt — his patience certainly paid off. You watched with wide, doe-like eyes as Jacaerys’s head buried itself between your thighs, the rest of him flattened against the feather-bed. His hands carefully traced along your thighs before they held your hips in-place.

“Jace,” You moaned, craving the sensation of his mouth against your core. His tongue raked hot embers over your cunt, deliciously slow, ensuring that he took his time with tasting you. Your hand flew to his curls, eliciting a soft groan from him, too. “Gods, don’t stop — please!”

He was insatiable, hunger swelling within him as he took to lapping at your cunt, tongue splitting past your folds. Your thighs twitched and trembled even now, digits coaxing him in for more, to which he gleefully obliged.

His eagerness was palpable through each flick of his tongue, lost within the oasis between your legs. A myriad of soft whimpers and whines escaped you, hand gingerly tugging on Jace’s hair as he showered your cunt in an alternation of steady licks to lingering ones.

Bathed in pools of silvery moonlight that trickled in from the windows, Jace appeared more ethereal than ever, the muscles flexing within his back. If it were up to him, he would’ve been content to stay here forever, pleasure you over and over again until you shook.

The short, dizzying gasp that tore past your mouth spurred him on, as he pressed another string of kisses against your slit. The continued sensation of your digits carding through his curls made him sigh with elation.

He brought you closer, heart leaping into his throat when you began to writhe beneath him, hips tilting forward into each stroke of his mouth. “You are perfect.” He assured, his resonance little more than a needy whisper, a groan stifled within his throat.

Blossoming beneath his sweet compliments, your fingers curled against his scalp, unable to lay still as Jace resumed his previous ministrations. The warmth of his tongue left you with a blistering want, stomach churning with a wave of arousal.

At last, his tongue found your neglected pearl, tracing around your clit with a gentleness. Jacaerys’s tender expression also bore a great deal of concentration, dark eyes flickering toward you. “There?” He uttered, hoping that you would guide him to where he needed to be.

Your head fervently bobbed up and down, wanting him to stay rooted there. “Yes,” You whimpered, nearly shaking when his lips gingerly pursed around your clit, suckling upon the clutch of nerves until your body became tense. “R—Right there, Jacaerys, please!”

Everything felt feverishly hot, as if you would be turned to ash where you laid, bones trembling with desire. His hands kneaded into the swell of your hips, digits drawing soft patterns into your flesh, drawing you closer into his smoldering embrace.

Jacaerys was attentive and loving, following your breathy plea as he pursed his lips around the pearl of your cunt again, alternating between that and greedy, excitable laps of his tongue. Even he allowed himself to be lost within bliss and pleasure, arousal mounting from pleasuring you.

He shivered at the noises you made, sounds that took residence within the recesses of his mind, made for sweet torment. You weren’t shy about your own delight, moaning again, interwoven with breathy sighs and chants of his name until it was the only word you knew.

You reached for his hand, fingers interlocking atop the swell of your hip as he continued to lap at your aching core. He squeezed your hand as a sign of reassurance, buried deep within your sweet cunt, something that he hungered for.

Your back arched off of the blankets, hand pushing through Jacaerys’s disheveled curls, finding their anchor against his scalp. He groaned whenever you tugged upon his tresses, only serving to coax him further into your cunt.

Arousal rushed through you, molten heat oozing from between your thighs, a nectar as sweet as honey. “I—I’m close,” You whined, beginning to lose yourself to the throes of pleasure. “Jacaerys, please!” A throaty moan tore past your mouth, hips jolting forward.

Gods, he ruined you — made a mess of you in the best way possible, tearing down all bonds of propriety. Knowing that he was to be your husband, that you and him were twined together as one — it only sweetened your mounting release.

Writhing beneath him, you squeezed his hand, stomach sloshing with liquid heat, a heat that continued to devour you, making you feel unbelievably hot. You melted within Jace’s hands, reduced to nothing more than a moaning, whimpering mess.

With another barrage of his tongue assaulting your cunt, you whimpered, turning malleable, body trembling with your encroaching release. He knew that you were on the verge, and so he pursed his lips around your clit once more, and that was more than enough.

His name emerged from your lips like a reverent prayer, the only name that you knew in that moment. Your release was hot, like a rush of fire that refused to simmer, unable to be quelled. The residual sensation lingered, and Jace helped you through it.

Your thighs twitched, absentmindedly attempting to clench together, but Jace held you apart, soothing you with kisses along your thighs. The blissful, contented expression that soon followed was a beautiful one — Jace was shocked to know that he could do that to you, bring you to ruin.

It was a white-hot release, one that set your body ablaze, made the tight coil within your stomach unfurl. Your breathing was labored, still wrought with excitement as you steadily climbed down from your pinnacle, grip beginning to loosen upon Jacaerys’s tresses.

“I will never tire of that,” Jace confessed, his voice sweet against the inside of your thigh. Your slick glistened upon his chin, yet any remnants that remained, he quickly lapped up. He needed a moment to recuperate, crawling forward to rest his head against your chest. “The Gods have made you incomparable.”

Preening beneath his delicate praise and soft spoken compliments, you brought your fingers to his hair, gently raking through, correcting the dishevel you’d caused. You kissed his forehead, palm stroking along his broad, freckled shoulder.

Your lips twitched into an amiable smile, and he happened to crane his neck, peering at you with those warm, earthen-colored hues. “My heart calls your name,” You whispered, noticing the way his lips parted, a subtle exhale escaping him. His hands held you close, bodies flush against one another. “I am yours.”

Jacaerys could not wait for each day to be like this — no longer separated by duty or strife. You would be his wife, and he would be your husband, no room to be left to your own devices. The gods fashioned you both for love — and it would be as beautiful as it would be perilous.

“Calling you my wife certainly has an appeal,” Jace mused, crawling forward again until he was fully on top of you, propped up by his elbows, both of which had sunk into the pillow beside your head. “My heart belongs to you, now and forever.” He murmured.

It was difficult not to smile, bright and pearlescent, thighs still shaking in the aftermath of your release. He had made everything so perfect — steadfast by your side, supporting you in all endeavors, just as you would with him. He was your Prince, the future King of the Seven Kingdoms. You would follow him anywhere.

Part of him had always struggled with identity — who he was, who he was supposed to be. It was still a point of contention and deeply-rooted insecurities, but they all seemed to diminish in your presence.

You loved Jacaerys for his heart — blood never mattered.

He moved to kiss you, soft and lingering, allowing you to taste yourself upon his tongue. Jacaerys found his sanctuary between your legs, one hand moving to tug at the leather ties of his breeches. He had no desire to move quickly, delighted to be as slow as he could.

There would be time for haste, but this wasn’t one of those times. Instead, he cupped your face, kissing you again and again, seeking to feel your mouth and commit it to memory, memorizing every delicate feature you possessed.

“I want to be your wife,” Now, if you could. Part of you wanted to drag yourself from your bed and dress, Jacaerys in-tow, and find a septon — be wed and declare yourselves for all to see. “I would wish it into existence this very second, if I could.”

Jacaerys pressed a kiss against your brow, his countenance one of tenderness as he shook his head. “You already are,” He insisted, gazing down at you with such mesmerizing ardor, stars within his eyes. “A septon does not have to say the words for it to be true.”

You couldn’t have loved him more if you tried.

A soft giggle escaped you as you sought his lips for another kiss, even if it happened to be brief, shorter than the last. “Gods, I love you.” You beamed, and Jacaerys smiled too, pressing his forehead against yours. You had taken enough time to recuperate, and he was far from finished.

Desire took hold, and before you could manage to speak, your lips were on his. Jacaerys groaned — a low, pretty sound that made your stomach swirl with heat. You watched in silent rapture as he removed the last of his garments, breeches and smallclothes gone until he was all that remained.

Through the moonlit haze of your chambers, you fell in love with him again — each glance felt like the very first, heart stirring with a raging ardor. There was no one else like him, and there was no one else for you.

Your hands reached for him, loosely looping around the back of his neck, fingertips dancing across the valley between his shoulders. Jacaerys pressed closer, gaze half-lidded and heavy with desire and love, above all. His lips graced your forehead, breathing becoming a touch heavier.

The swell of his cock nestled against your stomach, hardened again, growing with mounting arousal as he kissed you again. You were swift to reciprocate, mouth desperately seeking him as he repositioned himself, hips adjusting to align himself with your entrance.

“Are you comfortable?” Jacaerys inquired, voice a gentle hum through the onslaught of kisses. He watched as you nodded, signaling for him to continue — he did without hesitation, cock pushing past your folds as gently inched forward.

It was a mutual blossoming of elation, with your breath hitching within your throat, a moan escaping from your lips as it tangled with Jace’s breathy groan. Your digits grasped at the nape of his neck, back arching slightly as he pushed into you, inch by agonizing inch.

It was perfection, the way the both of you melded together, two pieces of a puzzle, connected and joined. His cock filled you with such gentleness — Jacaerys never dared touch you with a rough hand. Instead, he found himself slipping into a familiar rhythm, that of lovemaking, hand finding the swell of your haunch.

He gripped you there, other palm splayed out beside your head, lips parted and visage flushed with ecstasy as he sluggishly rocked in and out of you. His countenance flourished with delight, curls framing his cheekbones, brown eyes finding yours.

The tension of his gaze bored right into you, and you happened to lock eyes, a gasp stirring within your throat when he bottomed out inside of you. “Jace,” A needy whimper escaped you as he began to find his pace, adopting a passionate constancy. “Don’t stop.” You sighed, and it only served to spur him on.

The sensation of your cunt clenching around his cock made him groan, belly filled with a fire that demanded to be extinguished. It was divine, something that he savored — and time moved slowly in your presence. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

Despite the tame nature of his pace, it was wrought with passion, ensuring that he hit that spot inside of you, over and over again. His wanton groans seemed to caress along the shell of your ear, filling you with a desire that swallowed you whole.

He was lost within you, drowning himself in your beauty, in your radiance — everything he had, he would give to you. Jacaerys surrendered it all — his heart, body, soul, anything you wanted, he belonged to you.

His mouth moved to pepper kisses all along your face, moving towards your neck. It was growing hot, unbearably so, reaching a fever pitch as he deepened each thrust of his hips, cock throbbing inside of you. Jace was becoming desperate, movements somewhat erratic as he fisted the sheets.

Some sliver of him desired to see you with his heir — a child of Old Valyria, a babe to sit the Throne after he passed, and you with him. It wasn’t something he was accustomed to, feeling this way, yet it fueled him with such desire, like the swell of a tidal wave coming to crash against him.

Jacaerys groaned into the hollow of your throat, savoring the sensation of your fingers digging into the curls at the nape of his neck. Your back arched slightly, legs shifting further apart to give way to his thrusts, lulled into submission by the steady repetition of his cock sliding in and out of you.

You rolled forward, creating a delicious friction that brought the both of you to heel, causing Jace to grit his teeth together. He showered your body with kisses, wherever he could reach, continuing to rock into you with a smoldering passion.

The volume of your lovemaking only intensified, between the breathy groans and blissful whines, the squelching of your cunt, the gentle glide of flesh against flesh. It was a cacophony of desire that only made you shiver, hand reaching for his shoulder, fingers brushing across the smattering of freckles there.

It was breathtaking to see you this way, countenance contorted into a look of sheer ecstasy, eyes closed, mouth slack — you were exemplary. Jacaerys could find no flaws with you, awestruck by your beauty in the moment, and he pushed forward once more.

He was disarmingly gentle with each and every thrust of his cock, burying himself within your cunt with such tenderness. Even if he wanted to be rough, the mere idea of it was too off-putting and strange, as if it disgusted him to no end. He enjoyed this, the revelation within each snap of hips, the enthralling charm of your physique.

“Jacaerys,” You panted, leg lifting into his hand as you moaned, face nearly nestled against his own. “Jace, I — Gods, I’m close!” Reduced to a whimpering mess within the hands of your capable husband, you felt him groan with you, cock throbbing violently inside of you.

A sharp exhale left him as he continued his steady pace, never allowing himself to grow erratic or sluggish. He stayed the course, pressing a kiss along the delicate curve of your jaw, hand kneading into your thigh. It was perfect — you were perfect.

That tight coil within his stomach began to wither, unfurling with ecstasy as he joined you in your peak, shuddering when he felt himself release. It was sudden again, seed filling your womb as he neglected to remove himself, chest heaving with breathy pants.

You followed suit, tugging at his curls, hand clamping into his shoulder as you reached your peak. It was all white-hot and blistering, like the lick of an open flame dragging all along your body.

It was akin to soaring high above the clouds, even if the moment was fleeting and brief. You composed yourself through the heaving of your chest, cunt slick and oozing with your arousal as Jacaerys remained still. He pressed his forehead to yours, mouth slowly curling into a warm smile.

Pressing a kiss against your temples, Jacaerys shifted, hips recoiling as he pulled himself from you. A sticky mess of his seed and your slick coated your cunt, causing you to press your thighs together. “Are you alright?” He murmured, swift to ensure your wellbeing.

“Wonderful,” You hummed, dimples forming at either corner of your mouth as you smiled. “I am perfect.” There was a feeling of complete and utter bliss in the aftermath, knowing that you would be wed, that he was by your side for all eternity.

“Good,” Jacaerys hummed, kissing your brow as he moved to lay beside you, pulling you into his arms. “I could draw us a bath.” He proposed, catching your attention as you nodded.

“That would be suitable, I think. I am something of a mess.” You confessed, warmth crawling along your spine as Jace held your hip, digits dancing all along your plush physique. He enjoyed everything about you, every detail, every curve and blemish — it all belonged to him.

“That would make two of us,” Jace mused, sluggishly moving from your warmth to make for the washroom. Handmaidens had filled the basin with water before you arrived, the water lukewarm, having lost its steam and heat. “Seems there isn’t a need for it.” He remarked.

You joined him, fingers reaching for your robe as you draped it over the plush chair sitting beside your vanity. Dipping two fingers into the water, you seemed unimpressed with the temperature, but it was better to be clean instead. “I suppose we do not have a choice.”

As you stepped inside, you shivered, disgruntled by the water, now somewhat cold and devoid of warmth. You sank down into the basin, with Jacaerys following suit as he sat behind you, chest pressed snugly against your back, arms looping around you.

“I’ll keep you warm, my Lady.” He hummed, eliciting a giggle from you as you happened to recline against him, head craning to press a kiss against his jaw. Jacaerys could not imagine a moment sweeter than this, basking in your presence in a blissful aftermath, holding you close against him.

With an amiable smile, you moved into his embrace, hands stroking along his taut forearm, cheek buried against his shoulder as he held you. You felt his lips grace the hollow between your neck and shoulder, mouth blazing as hot as dragon’s fire, a token of his ardor for you — his love was unwavering.

And you were warm.

copyright @ swordgrace ; please do not steal or claim my work as your own. please do not copy or translate my work onto other platforms.

[ishizizzle]

huh. I think my new boss is cute