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barbieaemond · 4 months

Text

And I dream of a grave

Header by the lovely @ewanmitchellcrumbs 💕💕

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

Warnings: angst (!), smut, too many references to graves/burying, mentions of Blood & Cheese, miscommunication, Aemond's coping mechanism is violence and sex, in this order (good for him)

Word count: 3.8k

Author's note: the gif is self explanatory. This is a prequel to A Curse for a Curse, but can be read as a standalone. Big thank you to @irenadel for giving me the idea and being one of the most supportive souls <3

Taglist: @ladystarksneedle @arcielee @multyfangirl

MASTERLIST | English is not my first language

This is more than tempting the Gods. This is forsaking and impudently turning their backs on them.

As she sits down at the banquet, her mother’s words echo through her mind like the vexing sound of the wind on a storm’s night. It sets an unpleasant weight on her lungs, the close and yet shapeless feel of something dreadful. She’s almost grateful, looking around, to ascertain she’s not the only fool dreading this whole act.

The Dowager Queen sits at the table, barely able to contain a grimace. Queen Helaena, she is certain, has never looked so pale, her eyes so vacuous and yet so full of something unknown, elusive, smoke clouding and clearing her unnatural stare. The Hand has conveniently made himself absent. She can’t blame him. Actually, she envies him. If only she too could have been spared such a farce. But as the wife of the King’s brother, the very one they’re all supposed to celebrate tonight, she cannot do that, can she?

To cheers and the blaring of trumpets, the King enters shoulder to shoulder with his brother, tall and proud in his stride, wearing dark green velvet for such a special occasion, and such a special title.

“Do you know how they’re going to call you from now on?” the Queen Mother had asked when he came back from Storm’s end, dripping rain and mud and war.

“I do, Mother.” Aegon had answered, twisting a knife from his seat at the head of the table; she had never caught that glint of satisfaction in his eyes, not like that; it wasn’t dimmed by wine or flesh, but sharp as the blade in his hand. “A title he should be proud of.”

Pride was ever the easiest thing to wear for Aemond, the softest glove gliding on his skin, born out of a pit so deep and full of insecurities and negligence that that same endless depth had grown out of proportion in order to fill itself. To even try scratching his pride was like trying to climb the highest mountain with bare hands. She had cut her palms open to do so.

“What happened, Aemond?” she had asked once alone in their chambers.

“You know what happened.”

“What really happened?”

His good eye had pierced her as if she were made of crystal, but his jaw was too set, on the verge of breaking his own teeth if he carried on keeping the guilt, and truth, trapped inside.

“I didn’t want to.” He whispered, coming down from the peak, “I didn’t want to kill him. I only wanted—”

“Revenge? Well, you had it. Did it make you feel good? Did you bring that boy peace at last?”

It took him a lifetime to say no; a whispered sound, choked even, as if he had bitten off his tongue to get it out of that pit where he had never looked again.

He was biting his tongue in the council, the faintest clench in his jaw but here, here in the council, here in the world, he had to keep that pit buried and stand straight on the highest peak, looking up and up, never down, never back. How could he, how could he admit he had lost control. It was easier, safer, to let them think of him a monster, rather than just human.

“I salute you, brother.” The King had said, raising his cup “True blood of the dragon! We shall have a feast in your honor!" Otto had merely lowered his head in defiance, going unnoticed in the eyes of his King and grandson, drunk with power and finally free of his mother's leash, unaware that a golden noose now held him in check.

He had summoned jesters, musicians, even some dancers to coddle his brother, and raise him higher and higher. She imagined she just had to wait for the fall. Or perhaps pray to the Seven to overlook the insult, to keep a mortal up there with them for a little more. But then again, they shouldn’t ask the Gods for mercy. Someone more unforgiving, more bloodthirsty. Someone who, just as her husband and his brother and each one of their cursed dynasty, did not listen to either Gods or men.

“A toast!” the King says at one point, turning to his left. “To my brother Aemond and a long overdue justice, is it not?”

Out of courtesy and duty, she grabs her cup and raises it, but as everyone at the table sips their wine, all she tastes is contempt, and the cup hits the surface untouched. But not unseen.

“Brother, wine may cloud my judgment, but it seems to me that your beloved wife does not share the sentiment of this fine evening. I wonder why.”

She holds the King’s demanding stare with a firm one, aware of Aemond looking at her even if his eye is fixed on the table. He has ignored her for the whole night, not sparing her a single glance. Because she owns the truth, doesn’t she, and it’s a knife pointed at his back.

“May I speak my mind, your Grace?”

There’s the slightest shift in Alicent’s posture, as if she were desperately waiting for her, or anyone, to cease all of this, to say this isn’t right.

Aegon pulls a thin, lazy smile and tilts his silver head, swirling his cup. “Why, of course, Princess. My brother tells me you have a habit of doing so.”

“Did he, now?” she resists the urge to scoff; such a despicable habit for a woman in this world.

“Fret not, good sister, I’m certain he holds no grudges against you for your silver tongue.”

“Oh, I’m quite certain too, your Grace. I know for a fact that he likes it.”

A few lords can do very little to hold their snickering, Aegon himself does not hide his malicious smirk, petty at the edges. It must run in the blood.

“Careful though, you don’t want to spend too much time talking, lest you leave my poor brother without any heir! It’s been a while since you two lovebirds tied the knot, isn’t that right?”

She glances beside her, surely Aemond won’t let that slight insult pass, but he stays still and silent like a statue. She can’t quite believe what she’s witnessing. This is the same man who would call the crowned head at the table wastrel, depraved, disgrace.

So much for a disgrace, now that he fosters your pride and lies.

“I can assure you, good brother, that the talking is well outweighed by other activities that involve very few words.”

Aegon plasters a big grin on his face, yet she’s not finished. “But perhaps the Gods are sparing me the burden of bringing a child in such troubled times. A realm at war is not the best place to live in, is it not?”

“It depends on which side you’re on, Princess.”

There’s suspicion in his tone, but she just blinks at him. “My apologies, I was not aware that my loyalty to your House, and my husband’s, was to be questioned.”

“Come now. We are bound by what if not words?”

“I was under the impression that the Crown should fear his own kin more than a simple foreign girl from the West.”

At that, Helaena lets out a strange noise, something close to a wince, and silence falls all over. It is only now that Aemond undoes the stone he walled himself in and acts as he always does when he feels belittled, or worse, threatened. He shuts her out.

“I’m afraid my wife is growing tired, brother. ’Tis best for her to retire.”

She bites her tongue and turns her head. There’s no mistake in his tone, that is an order. She stares at him and he stares back, blankly, and then, just as it is expected of her, she obeys.

She goes without saying a word, aware of Aemond’s eye on her, of Aegon’s little victorious giggle. He snaps his fingers and two dancing girls flock to his brother. She knows this because she can’t resist but turning before disappearing. The girls are said to come from Lys, no less. But he’s not sparing them a single glance. His eye follows her out of the hall, and even after.

Candles almost extinguished, casting a soft glow in the bedchamber, dim but enough to make the shape of her body visible under the covers.

“I know you’re pretending to be asleep.” He says, placing his dagger and eyepatch on the nightstand.

She doesn’t bother to wait a single moment to fly her eyes open. “Was I not supposed to pretend I was tired?”

When she gets no answer, she turns to face him, finding him on his feet near the bed, undoing the buttons of his doublet. His eye is on her, though, wide, as someone ready to hunt but seeing traps everywhere.

“Did you enjoy your feast?” she asks with piqued interest. “Such a shame that I missed most of it. I was eager to watch the girls from Lys dance. How were they?”

“Enough. You should thank me for dismissing you. You were bordering on high treason.”

“Since when telling the truth is considered high treason?”

“Is that what you were going to say? The truth? To make me look like a fool in front of the whole court?”

“I was only going to say that the feast was an insult and a challenge to the Gods or any common sense. And I know that beneath all the pats on the shoulder and the endorsement on your brother’s part, you are of the same mind.” she hopes to see the barest glimpse of validation on his face, at least here, where he can leave behind his pride and admit he made a mistake. Is that what you call starting a war?

But his expression is as closed as ever, wary.

She wishes it would hurt less than it does. “Of all the people ready to betray you, how quick you are to assume I’d be the first.”

“We’re bound by words, are we not?”

“Take your brother off your mouth.” She says absentmindedly; she tries to not let it sting, but it does anyway. It is a low blow, and she knows he does not believe it. He has raised the walls, coiling like a snake, and there’s no point trying to climb and risk cracking her skull open on the ground. She will have to wait for him to come down. “Then perhaps I should consider my father’s proposal.”

She leaves the bed and grabs a letter lying open on the desk. “He wrote me this letter. That is why my mother came all the way here, apparently to see how her daughter was faring.”

Aemond eyes it with the barest twitch in his lips, then looks up into her eyes and, with a sigh, she clears her throat.

“My dearest daughter,

It is with great concern and sadness that I write you this letter.

Words have reached me about the recent events involving Storm’s End and young Prince Lucerys’ demise. My spirits are low when thinking of the fate you’re enduring. But I want you to think carefully of this: annulments are rare but possible. Even more so since you bore no heirs yet. You cannot remain married to a Kinslayer, it is the highest of sins. I only need a word from you, daughter, and I shall hastily consult with a High Septon.”

She can barely register his arm moving, only sees his hand snatching the letter out of her grip, crumpling the paper between his fingers. Nostrils flaring, eye widening, she reads insult all over his face. About time.

“Is that it, Aemond? Is that the reason you’d think I would betray you? Because I didn’t bleed on a birthing bed yet? Is that how you measure my loyalty? What of all the times I drew your bath, washed your hair, pulled the boots off your feet? What about that curtain—“ she adds, pointing to the windows “and the fact that I told the maid to keep that side always closed so the sun will not bother your eye? Do you think I did all of this because of some empty words?”

He looks as if she has just slapped him. Mistrust and bewilderment run together all over his sharp features, trying to win one another, and she waits and waits, and she begs as all the purest things must be pleaded, wordlessly.

Come down. Come down. Lay down with me. In our bed, a grave, it matters not. I'll take the shovel and do the burying.

But he stands still on his high and cursed perch, the grip on the letter loosens, his shoulders slump a little, because this, this comes so easily. Violence. It’s the other glove he wears like second skin.

“You will write to your father and tell him if I hear another word about annulments, I will have his head for treason. And as for you… you tell a living soul what you know, and you shall join the Silent Sisters. You won’t even have to vow your silence, for I shall take your sharp tongue first.”

She watches him go, standing in the middle of the room like a fool; her hands bleeding still and a plea, unheard, choking to death in her chest.

Her hands heal, stay whole for so long. She feels she cannot reach him this time, no matter how hard she tries to climb. She finds no footholds, no inlets, until she stops looking for any.

She finds she has no strength to do it anymore. They’re all dead anyway, each of them in their own way, their own burial.

The king drinks and rages and drinks and rages. Helaena rocks on herself all day long, chasing the highs and lows of her laments. Jaehaera stares at her mother with her small lips sewn, her eyes wide and the Queen Mother weeps and weeps, wondering if the little girl is watching her mother go mad with grief or yet again her twin brother’s head rolling on the ground like one of her toys.

And Aemond…she does not know where Aemond chose to bury himself. He spends the day out, trying to escape the smothering grip of the Stranger’s claws, his curse…or is it only retribution?

Sometimes he’s in the training yard, sometimes that same yard becomes theater for revenge. He kills whoever helped Blood and Cheese enter the Keep, man or woman, he doesn’t care. He tortures them, and she wants to beg him to stop, to tell him that torturing one, two, or one hundred men won’t stop guilt from torturing him.

So, he wanders restlessly, basks in small and big cruelties, until the sun sets and she’s aware, as the bed dips under his weight, that she is his own burial. He takes her at any time, in any place, be it the bed, the desk, or bent over the vanity, she cannot do anything to stop him. She doesn’t want to and yet she aches to do it. Because it’s always sudden, and harsh and hurtful when he pulls her hair, when he spares no time to stoke her desire, when he keeps her bent with her back turned and a firm hand on her neck like some kind of punishment.

It never used to be like this. It had been playful, teasing, painfully slow as if he were separating salt from water, and then fast, urgent, unraveling for two inexperienced newlyweds.

But it had never been like that. There was no joy in it. Only a duty to be fulfilled. Some twisted way to gain control, while anyone else kept slipping from his hands. Just as Vhagar slipped out of his control on that fateful night of storm.

He remembered that dark thrill pounding in his veins, the laughter gushing out of his throat like poison. He couldn’t bring himself to stop. He didn’t know whether Vhagar was fueling his fire or the other way around, perhaps both. Just a little more, he’d thought, as Arrax batted his wings frantically, desperate, mirroring his young rider, to escape the gaping jaws of the Queen of All Dragons.

That’s what he wanted. He wanted to relish in his nephew’s dread, he wanted to drink it. He wanted him alone, desperate, hopeless, just as he had been.

And then he felt it, the shift in the ancient fire pit he was riding, like a boat tipping over and there was no helm to grab onto and bring it back to land. He had sunk his own family into the bleak abyss of Daemon Targaryen’s soul.

He had come to collect, thoroughly. A son for a son, yes, but he had taken much more than Jaehaerys. He’d taken Helaena as well. Even Jaehaera.

Will she ever be able to speak again?

Will my Mother ever forgive me?

Words never spoken, stuck on his tongue and then gagged and swallowed. He cannot look down, cannot look back. He must look up and forward, like soldiers do. To the next battle, to war.

But there’s this woman. And the sight of her in his bed that makes his breath hitch and for two reasons entirely opposite to one another. The first is the most ancient one. But she’s also a thorn in his side, for she knows. She knows everything. She knows all his peaks and depths, every brick in his walls and how to dismantle them; she knows he’s strong and weak, that he’s scared and guilty and worthy of his mother’s contempt, but he cannot bear any of this in front of her.

He flees her presence during the day, only to impose himself on her for the whole night. She cannot refuse him. And he cannot have her prying and dismantling his well-crafted walls and lies, so he takes her and takes her and takes her until he works themselves up to exhaustion and she’s a rag doll in his hands. It serves the purpose, though. As long as she has his cock in her mouth, as long as he harshly pounds into her, cutting her breath from the inside, she cannot ask questions. As long as he keeps chasing his pleasure, and his rugged breaths muffle his own ears, he cannot think straight.

He's close now and it’s the second time already. The sheets are damp beneath their bodies, his back glints with sweat, damps his forehead as he thrusts inside her one more time. They’re lying on their side, but he keeps her caged against him, his arm has slipped on the mattress and under her neck to keep her still, with her back to him. With his cheek glued to hers, he croons praises in her ear, falling mindlessly from his lips but like drops in the ocean. Once, she would redden, smile blissfully, or challenge him, to go deeper, or harder, or both, but she’s a limp thing now. A mere body panting upon being fucked by another, that’s all.

This is possession. Or a desperate attempt to. Each night, he holds her as if it’s the last time and she could slip away from him at any moment, turning her back on him. She can feel it now, in the way he’s gripping her shoulder, the way his nails dig in her skin, carving into her bones: stay with me. Please. Don’t leave. Please, don’t leave.

But it’s him keeping her away, turning her own back on him.

Don’t you know, she wishes to tell him, that I won’t, ever. I won’t. No matter how cursed you are. I won’t. I won’t.

He grabs her thigh, resting it on his hip, spreading his long fingers on her skin, spreading her legs so he can find the perfect angle and picks up the pace. She shudders with every thrust, gasping with her throat dry, feeling the long bridge of his nose sinking in her cheek, his grunts growing rougher and deeper; some strange choked sound at the back of his throat.

He comes quietly, panting shallowly against the damp fabric of her nightgown. And he stays there, claw gripping her shoulder, head sunk between her neck and collarbone, and deep to the hilt buried in her.

A tear rolls down her cheek. She doesn’t know where it comes from, who she is mourning, she can’t tell these days. Perhaps she’s mourning him, who he was, who he is now and who he is forcing himself to be. She doesn’t know where the deception lies anymore. She wishes she could push it back in, prays that it goes unnoticed, swallowed along with all the others, but she should know by now, the Gods are not in her favor anymore, if they ever had been.

“Why are you crying?”

She turns her head, and her breath hitches. The gemstone glints, yes, but she’s too struck by his eye to even notice the sapphire. There’s something raw there, bare, more than his very skin now. It’s the first time she sees that look on him, torn, heavy lidded and not by pleasure.

This is the burden of grief.

She wonders if that’s the reason he’s so keen on fucking her with her back turned, so she can’t see him. Perhaps she didn’t look hard enough. She thought he had risen too high, out of her reach, of anyone’s. She thought he would never fall, not in every sense of the word.

Hence, she’s at a loss for words, slightly pulling herself up, when he slowly comes down; he curls into himself, into her lap, resting his head there like a child. No Kinslayer, no Dragon Prince, no son, no brother. No husband. Just a human, bare in the skin and soul.

Aemond wraps his hand around her knee, gently, and then tighter and tighter, shutting his eye. He’s on land now, but the room is spinning, the whole world is spinning and he doesn’t know how to stop it. He feels he started it all, he threw a spinning top and got sucked into it. And she’s the only firm thing he can hold onto.

“Do you think I’m cursed?” he whispers, the barest flutter of his long eyelashes against his cheekbone.

But she has no answer. All she has are her hands, sliding on his naked skin, through his loose hair, gently, as if touching the thinnest glass, sealing the cracks. Her palms slice open again.

“Aren’t we all?”

And I dream of a grave, deep and narrow, where we could clasp each other in our arms as with clamps, and I would hide my face in you and you would hide your face in me, and nobody would ever see us any more."

- The Castle, Franz Kafka.

2K notes · View notes

sourcherryandsprinkles · 1 month

Note

can i request cregan stark modern au, with jaces younger or twin sister and maybe they like hide the relationship and its like fluffy and maybe smutty

Request: five times cregan and jace’s sister almost get caught and one time jace does find out about their relationship. I don’t think he would be too mad. He knows cregan is a good guy and would treat you well.

I usually dislike body hair (personal preference) and beards, but Cregan has a short beard in this one (as he does in all of my fics for him) because I said so, and because he’s a Stark. I think it is mandatory and missing for his character — manifesting for a beard in season 3. Also, this is 6.6k words...idk how that happened

p.s. You can find this fic on AO3 under the title Who are we to fight the alchemy

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f receiving), mention of a fight and blood, short appearance of Larys Strong (he needs his own warning),

—

When you started college and moved in with Jace, he had warned his teammates that his sister was off limits and that if he caught any of them looking at you, he would not be afraid to throw hands. He may be smaller than a lot of his teammates, but Jace was very protective of you.

They were good guys, brothers to Jace, but he also knew their history with girls. He knew the dirty secrets; the dramas, who they had sex with, where, and details that he wished he could forget about. They were not boyfriend material — at all.

You were not going to lie, Jace’s teammates were hot hockey players. It was tempting to turn your life into a cliché book trope and hook up with one of them, but you refrained from doing so. They were not worth being another name on their list.

Until one of them changed your mind.

It was a Tuesday night. You were in your room, reading on your bed while Jace had friends over playing video games. You could hear them shout at the TV and each other. After a few chapters, you wandered to the kitchen to get a cookie from the cookie jar, but found its content empty.

‘’Jace,’’ you said under your breath.

Living with your brother had a certain strange familiarity to it, a comforting echo of home despite the newness of being on your own. But some things hadn’t changed. Like how Jace never mentioned when he emptied something. Like that one time you wanted to make spaghetti, only to discover he had left an empty pasta box in the cupboard. Or when he used your shower towel because his was in the laundry. These moments made you miss your mom's presence — she’d always been there to keep the peace and enforce some order.

As you stared at the empty jar with frustration, one of Jace’s friends walked in behind you, his eyes immediately landing on the same spot. You could not see who it was, but his tall shadow was towering over you and you could smell a faint woodsy cologne.

‘’If you’re looking for a cookie, Jace ate them all,’’ you said, throwing your brother under the bus.

‘’That was me, actually,’’ admitted a deep voice with a northern accent from behind you. You turned to see Cregan standing there, his expression sheepish. ‘’Jace said to get anything I wanted. Sorry.’’

You forced a smile, the irritation fading as your eyes met his gray ones. ‘’It’s fine. I’ll get something else.’’

Cregan watched as you moved to the freezer above the fridge to get the ice cream out. You opened the lid and saw that it was almost empty, so there was no need to put it in a bowl.

‘’Did you make them?’’ he asked as you reached for a spoon in the cutlery drawer.

‘’I did,’’ you answered with a smile.

‘’They were really good.’’

‘’Thank you. If Jace baked them himself, they would have turned out like hockey pucks: black and hard,’’ you joked.

Cregan offered a light chuckle as he stepped towards the counter, his gray eyes studying the details of your face. He hadn’t really looked at you until now, respecting Jace’s warning, but now he was struggling to look away and go back to the living room.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

Two months later, you found yourself making out with the Wolves’ captain in his big jeep. His hair was damp and he smelled strongly of soap and deodorant, having showered twenty minutes ago after practice.

The windows were beginning to fog as you were kissing, your hands all over Cregan's shoulders and chest. His tongue slipped into your mouth, causing you to grip his shirt when it grazed yours. You could drown in his kisses.

Getting frustrated by the gear shift separating you, you attempt to climb over it and fumbled your way to the driver seat onto Cregan’s lap without breaking contact with his lips. You bumped your head and legs along the way, and let out a little curse. Cregan laughed, pulling back his seat as far as it would go so the steering wheel would not press in your back.

From his new angle, you could feel the warmth of Cregan’s body against yours. It wasn’t as effective as cuddling in bed, but Jace would get home soon and Cregan’s small dorm bed was not made for two. He barely fitted himself.

He slipped his large hands under your shirt, his thumbs inching up and up your sides, feeling your soft and warm skin while his mouth locked itself to your jaw. ‘’Your brother would kill me if he knew about us,'' he said as his mouth trailed down your neck, leaving wet kisses up to your collarbone.

You rolled your hips to meet his, the friction causing Cregan’s breath to stutter. His hands were still in your shirt, large and warm, leaving trails of fire over your back. He felt like he was sixteen and in high school all again, not twenty-one and in college.

‘’Gods, you’re going to kill me if your hand keeps going rubbing against me like that.’’

You smirked and tipped your head back to give him more room. ‘’Jace is not the boss of my relationships. I can see whoever I please,’’ you replied, raking your hand through his hair and grazing the side of his short beard.

Cregan scoffed against your neck. ‘’Then what are we doing in my car instead of your bed?’’

He was only teasing, but it still made you sigh. You didn’t think living with Jace would put a wrench in your dating life. He meant well, but gods was it frustrating.

Not waiting for your response, Cregan continued to shower your neck with kisses, his teeth nipping at the skin before his lips soothed it. You didn’t think kisses would make you feel like this, but this man had an effect on your body that you could not explain. You pulled at his hair when he bit at the sensitive flesh there, leaving a small mark you will have to conceal later.

You wished you didn’t have to hide your relationship. You wished you could kiss him whenever you desired, go to his games and wear his jersey and cheer for him loudly when he scored a goal, cuddle with him on the couch without looking at the door every five minutes to check if Jace was coming home.

Cregan pulled back suddenly, looking up at you with his gray eyes. ‘’I should go, Jace is gonna come home soon. Walking from campus to here takes less than thirty minutes,’’ he said in a hushed tone, his breath coming in short puffs.

‘’Just a few minutes more,’’ you bargained, stealing a few kisses from his lips, not yet ready to part. ‘’I have a class at 8pm tomorrow and you leave for your away game Saturday morning. I won’t be seeing you until Sunday or Monday.’’

He let out a sigh, also dreading the moment he’ll leave you, and held you for a moment, his hands gently running up and down your back. You drinked in his scent and warmth, winding your arms around his neck and pressing your head in his neck.

The moment was ruined as you shifted and accidentally hit the horn with your ass, the loud sound echoing in the parking lot.

Startled, you jumped and then burst into laughter, but Cregan didn’t join in. His expression was stone serious as he stared intently at something in the distance. Confused, you followed his gaze and spotted Jace standing by the doors of your apartment building, his gym bag slung over his shoulder. He was scanning the parking lot, clearly trying to figure out which car had honked, but with the lights off and the evening darkness, there was no way for him to tell which one it was.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

The second time you almost got caught together was before a hockey game. The team the Wolves were playing against was strong and Cregan texted you to come outside the locker room and give him a good luck kiss.

You smiled at the text and sent a quick ‘coming’ to your boyfriend. ‘’I’m gonna get something to drink,’’ you told your friends.

You snaked your way through the students and families waiting in the entrance to get to their seats and quickly made your way down to the locker room. You knew where it was from bringing over Jace’s skates last Saturday at practice. They were essential for getting on the ice, how could he forget them?

Family, friends — and girlfriends — were not allowed in that area of the arena, so you kept an eye out for anyone from staff. You could always play the ‘I was looking for the bathroom’ card, but it would add another lie on top of the others you and Cregan were piling up since the beginning of your relationship.

You found him leaning against the wall, waiting. He was in his compression pants and an old Wolves tee shirt, looking like a complete snack. You could see everything in those tight pants. And the way his hair was tied at the back made him look sexier.

He looked up when he heard someone approach and a soft smile curled on his lips. ‘’There you are,’’ Cregan said, his voice low and gravelly as he stepped to you and pulled you to his chest. You fit against him perfectly, like a missing piece snapping into place.

He leaned down and pulled you into a kiss, his hand cupping your face gently. It was supposed to just be a quick kiss — a quick ‘good luck’ smooch, not anything too serious. But the moment your mouth met his, you both got carried away.

Cregan grabbed you with ease by your thigh, lifting you up, and you winded yours around his neck, almost forgetting that he had a game to play in twenty minutes.

‘’Okay, that’s enough,’’ you decided, breaking the kiss. ‘’You’re gonna be late for pre-game talk.’’

Cregan sighed but gently lowered you back down. Your boots hit the floor, but he didn’t let you go without stealing one last kiss. You smiled into it, then stepped back just as Jace came barreling down the hallway, clearly in a rush.

He came to a stop, frowning when seeing you. ‘’What are you doing here?’’ His gaze shifted to Cregan, suspicion creeping into his voice. ‘’And why are you talking to my sister?’’

Cregan didn’t miss a beat. ‘’She was looking for you, actually,’’ he lied smoothly. ‘’Baela asked her to tell you she wouldn’t make it to the game tonight. She and Rhaena drove home for the weekend for their dad’s birthday.’’

You made a mental note to thank him later for the quick thinking. Baela had mentioned her trip, and Jace had been sulking and pouting ever since, upset that his girlfriend would miss a big game.

Jace nodded, still catching his breath. ‘’Yeah, I know. She already told me.’’

‘’Oh?’’ you played along effortlessly. ‘’She must have forgotten that she already told you. She has a lot on her mind right now, you know.’’

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

Your breathy 'ah's and whimpers were bouncing off the walls as Cregan's strong hands gripped your thighs and held you in place while he lapped at your pussy like a starved man. The intensity of pleasure forced you to grip the headboard. The scruff of his beard was rubbing against your sensitive skin, chafing, but you kind of like it.

It was your first time having the apartment to yourself for more than two hours, and you were going to make the most out of it. Jace was at a bar in the city with some guys from the team. He won't be back until at least 1am...or even later.

When you heard about the night out at the bar, you texted your man and let him know so he could come over after Jace leaves. His teammates were disappointed that he was not joining, but Cregan told them to have fun for him.

He’ll have his own fun with you in the sheets.

The moment he crossed the door, your mouth was on his and you were unbuttoning your shirt, eager to feel his hands on your tits.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, mewling at the way he was suckling on your clit. No one ever made you feel this good before. Not that you had a lot of experience to compare with.

His sweet assault on your pussy continued, the sounds you were making making him rock hard. He loved it — pleasing his girl.

''I'm gonna— I'm gonna come soon,'' you whined, feeling your core tighten and rocking you body forward in the same rhythm, fucking yourself on Cregan's tongue.

The hockey player let out a low grunt below you, encouraging you to use him how you wished. He let go of one of your thighs to run the back of his hand up your stomach and grab your breast the way you liked, his calloused thumb and finger capturing your peaked nipple, rubbing it as he flicked your clit again.

Your orgasm hit and you made circular jerks of her hips, pushing down on Cregan’s tongue and chin, drenching both. His name fell from your lips and you continued on like this for a moment, toes curling and legs tensing. Until you had nothing else to give.

He pressed a last kiss to your sensitive clit, then helped you clamber off him. ‘’You remember when I said the cookies you made were really good?’’

You hummed, although confused where he was going with this.

‘’This is better.’’

Your face flamed up at his words, not expecting such a vulgar thing to come out. ‘’Shut up.’’ You smacked his chest, his laugh rumbling under your palm.

The sheepishness he sported in the kitchen that day had disappeared, revealing a dirty sense of humor you never expected from him.

You thought you would get a breather, a moment to catch your breath between your last orgasm and the next, but Cregan — insatiable — had other plans. He rolled onto his side, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and began kissing your body with a slow, deliberate intensity. His lips trailed all over your chest, down to your breasts, and then to your stomach, each touch igniting your desires all over again. You arched into his touch, the warmth of his mouth and the gentleness of his caresses melting away any resistance.

Under his tall and broad stature, Cregan Stark was a teddy bear. A Costco sized teddy bear. On the ice, he was known for his strength and leadership, but off it, he was all heart. He was kind, caring, and protective. His caresses were gentle, and his kisses tender and loving. It was impossible to not feel his love.

Speaking of feeling his love, you felt his hardness twitching and poking at your thigh through his tight boxers. You reached down to slip your hand inside, jerking him slowly. In response, Cregan squeezed your hip and let out a low groan.

‘’I need you,’’ you gasped, feeling him suck at the skin under your left breast.

It was one of your rules: no leaving visible marks that could raise suspicions.

He gave one last swipe of his tongue over your nipple and peeled off his boxers, his delicious cock springing up immediately. Your pussy was weeping at the sight.

You spread your legs to accommodate him, offering yourself to him. He teased at your entrance, his movements deliberate as he bumped against your clit, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure through you that made you whine. His amused chuckle filled the room, clearly tempted to draw out your anticipation even more, but as you shot him a warning glare, silently urging him to stop teasing.

Cregan shushed you, rubbing your thigh, and just as he was about to breach your walls, you heard the door of the apartment open and Jace’s voice echoing.

You froze, eyes widening in panic, and Cregan cursed under his breath, realizing that Jace was back much earlier than expected. ‘’Shit. That’s Jace.’’

He called your name again and you quickly slipped on a shirt and got out of bed, answering your brother's calls of your name. You couldn't risk him coming into your bedroom and catching his best friend in your bed in his birthday suit…with with a raging hard-on and your juices all over his beard.

‘’You’re home early,’’ you pointed out, coming down the hallway.

You studied him as he grabbed a bag of chips from the pantry, trying to guess his state of inebriety. He seemed barely tipsy.

‘’Drama at the bar. Ben got into a fight with some guy over a girl — which he did not know was someone's girlfriend — and we all got kicked out,’’ Jace explained, rummaging through the bag of chips and taking a handful to pop into his mouth before leaning against the counter.

You shook your head with a sigh. ‘’Typical Ben. He really needs to stop going after girls that are taken. Has he not learned his lesson?''

Your brother laughed, taking more chips. “Whose shirt is that?” he asked, his eyes narrowing as he glanced down at the large shirt you were wearing, then back up at you.

You followed his gaze and saw that you had grabbed Cregan’s tee shirt instead of your sleep shirt…

‘’Dad’s,’’ you blurted out quickly.

Jace frowned, not remembering your dad ever wearing that shirt, but let it go. ‘’What were you up to? I thought you would invite the girls over.''

‘’Eh, no. I...I was having fun by myself,'' you stammered, clenching your thighs and hoping your face was not too flushed.

It wasn't entirely a lie, but it wasn’t true either. You were having fun, just not by yourself.

His face twisted in disgust. ‘’Ew, that’s gross! I did not need to know about that.''

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

Unlike Ben, Cregan wasn’t the type to get into fights — especially on the ice. He thought it was stupid and pointless, a quick way to end up injured or benched for a few games. As the father figure of the team, he was usually the one stepping in to break up the scuffles, keeping cooler heads prevailing. But sometimes, no matter how careful you are, you get caught in the crossfire and take a punch that wasn’t meant for you.

You shot up from your seat immediately, your heart sinking to your stomach as Jason Lannister’s gloveless fist accidently connected to Cregan’s face. It was aimed at Ben — unsurprisingly —, who had played a foul, unnoticed by the referee, and got his brother Tyland in the penalty box.

Chaos erupted on the ice. The referees were shouting and blowing their whistle, trying to break up the fight. Seeing Ben implicated, Cregan had rushed over, taking it on himself to pull him back, but that's when Jason punched him.

More players skated over, helping the referees. One grabbed Jason, and another went for Ben. He was lean but feisty, a scrappy fighter who never backed down. He shot a taunting grin at his opponent and spat blood on the ice, right at his feet. Jason tried to free himself, but the closest referee put his hand on his chest, shaking his head. Enough.

Cregan turned to Ben and wiped the blood off his nose, glaring at darkly.

You didn’t see him until Sunday afternoon. You were coming back from the laundry room, arms full with a basket of freshly cleaned clothes, and forgot how to breathe when you saw Cregan sitting on the couch across from Jace. He was wearing gray sweatpants and a hoodie, and his pretty face was decorated with a bruise close to his nose.

Your feet froze, unable to take another step. You wanted to fucking punch Jason Lannister.

‘’Hey, you’re back,’’ Jace noticed, turning his head towards you.

You nodded, trying to regain your composure. ‘’Yeah. I was doing laundry,’’ you explained, lifting the basket slightly as if to prove your point.

‘’Can you do mine next time? I’ll pay you ten dollars,’’ Jace offered with a grin.

You scoffed, shaking your head. What did he take you for, a housemaid? ‘’Ten dollars to wash your dirty underwear and smelly socks? Never.’’

‘’Fifteen,’’ he countered, still hopeful. ‘’My clothes smell better when you do it. It’s like when Mom used to do it.’’

‘’That’s because I use fabric softener,’’ you replied, rolling your eyes.

Jace frowned, clearly puzzled. ‘’What’s that?’’

Before you could explain it to him, his phone beeped with a notification. He paused the game and checked his screen. ‘’Food is here. I’ll go get it,’’ he said to Cregan.

The taller one nodded, waiting for Jace to be out the door to glance at you. Without saying anything, you set the basket of clothes down on the beanbag chair that had seen better days and went straight to Cregan, cupping his face gently. His eyes softened at your touch, seeing your look of concern. He reached up with one hand to lightly hold onto your wrist as you examined the bruise on his face.

Cregan gave you a soft smile. He could see that you were worried about him. ‘’I’m fine,’’ he said, yet you couldn’t help but notice a hint of stiffness in his expression. ‘’I’m fine. I promise.’’ He kissed the inside of your hand.

‘’I’ll fetch you some ice.’’

He tried to protest, saying that it wasn’t necessary, but you were resolute. You hadn't been able to take care of him after the game, so you’ll do it now.

You put some ice cubes that you used for your iced coffees in a plastic bag and brought it to the living room, gently pressing it to the bruise. ‘’Here.’’

Cregan winced at the cold, his face sensitive. ‘’Thanks, love.’’ He reached out and put a hand on your hip, tugging you closer, but retracted it as the door opened and Jace returned with the food.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

During the course of your relationship, you found yourself in a lot of risky situations, but letting Cregan sleep over was playing with fire.

You didn't mean to. It was an accident.

The two of you were watching a movie in your bed while Jace was on a date with Baela, and he fell asleep forty minutes in. You should have woken him when your phone showed close to 11pm, but you didn't have the heart to. You locked your door, turned off your laptop and cuddled against him.

When you woke up to pee at 1am, you saw that your brother was back and was asleep on the couch with his phone in his hand, the TV playing some older kids cartoons and his leg off the couch. Jace was a light sleeper, it would be too risky to sneak Cregan out.

Morning came and you woke up alone. A sad pout graced your lips. It was your first time spending the night together and you didn’t even get to have morning cuddles or hear his sleepy voice.

You grabbed your phone, checking if he left any messages, but there was nothing. Just a text from your mom asking if you were coming home for your dad’s birthday this coming weekend. You rolled over, breathing in the sheets where Cregan slept in last night, and left her on read and got up.

Your morning coffee was calling your name.

Running a hand through your hair, you walked down the hallway, looking forward to that first sip of coffee, and grinned when you found Cregan in the small kitchen, standing in his tight boxers and a tee shirt and drinking black coffee from a Disney mug. It looked Polly Pocket sized in his hands.

You wrapped your arms around him from the back, your body flush against his. You pressed your face into his back, and the warmth of your body against his made his shoulders relax.

He smiled to himself, covering your hands with his free one. ‘’Good morning,’’ he said in a groggy voice.

‘’I thought you had left. What of Jace? If my brother sees you in your underwear in his kitchen he’s gonna flip.’’

Cregan set his coffee down and turned, his gaze soft as his eyes met yours. The bruise on his face had significantly faded, barely there. ‘’He’s not here. I heard him leave.’’

His strong arms wrapped around your waist, drawing you close, and you let yourself relax against him. The warmth of his body seeped through his tee shirt, and you could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest. Cregan's hand slowly traced down your back, his fingers rubbing gentle circles at the base of your spine.

‘’Don’t you have classes?’’ you asked, glancing up at him with a small smile.

He hummed softly. ‘’Not until later. My 10am class got canceled. I thought I’d hit the gym instead...but there’s no rush.’’

‘’I’ve gotta leave in one hour,’’ you sighed, wishing you could linger in this moment longer.

Cregan’s grip tightened slightly, as if to keep you close for as long as he could. ‘’I can drop you off,’’ he offered. ‘’That way we’ll have more time together.’’

You nodded, pressing a kiss over Cregan’s sternum in thanks. ‘’I’ll make us breakfast...in five minutes.’’

To ruin the moment, you heard the loud buzz and a voice coming from the intercom.

‘’Are you up? Please be awake. I tried texting you and calling but you didn’t respond so I’m taking a chance here.’’ Jace called your name again, louder.

You groaned in annoyance and went to the door to press the intercom button. ‘’What do you want?’’

‘’Yes! You’re awake! Eh, I left my laptop on the counter, and I also forgot my keys...’’

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

When Jace left for college, your parents didn’t see the use of getting a car when everything was close to campus and within walking distance. What they didn’t think through would be the possibility of the bus riding home being full and not being able to make it for your dad’s birthday.

Jace: Pack your bag. We’re leaving at 4pm. I already told Mom

You: You found us bus tickets?

Jace: No. I found a ✨chauffeur✨

You: Please tell me it’s not some random person you found on a co-driving forum. I don’t want to spend two hours in some creep’s car 💀

Jace: He’s not

You should have known it would be him.

Jace called shotgun, forcing you to take the backseat. You didn’t mind. In fact, you preferred it. If you had sat at the front, you were scared your hand would have slipped and revealed your relationship. Or that Jace would have noticed the familiarity between you. You were supposed to be his best friend’s little sister, not someone he knew like the palm of his hand.

Although it was only two hours, the drive felt never-ending. Your back ached from sitting in class all day and your stomach was impatient to be filled with your mother’s cooking. Every now and then, Cregan would sneak glances at you through the rearview mirror, and each time you couldn’t hide your smile. Your brother didn’t see, too busy on his phone or switching the music.

This weekend was looking to be long and difficult.

Your mom was more than happy to have another guest over. Cregan was as polite and charming, easily winning her heart when he complimented her infamous lasagna and asked for a second serving.

''Of course! Help yourself,'' Rhaenyra said, smiling warmly. She glanced between Cregan and Jace, who both emptied their plates quickly. ''It's like they don't feed you at college.''

''I live in a dorm,'' Cregan explained in defense. ''It's hard to cook when the only appliances allowed are a mini fridge and a coffee pot.''

Your mother turned to Jace with raised eyebrows, clearly waiting for his excuse. ''And you? What do you have to say for yourself?''

Jace grinned sheepishly, swallowing his last bite. ''Can I take the leftover back to college?''

At the head of the table, your father let out a hearty laugh, shaking his head.

When you were seven, you used to sneak out of your bedroom at night to eat a bowl of cereal. It took your parents several months to figure it out. At eighteen, you were sneaking to join your boyfriend in the guest room.

You waited for everyone to be fast asleep, and avoided the creaking floorboards in the hallway. It was dark inside as you closed and locked the door behind, but you made it to the bed without stubbing your toe on any furniture.

Cregan stirred when you pulled the covers and slipped in, feeling your cold feet on his calves. ''What are you doing?'' he asked, half-asleep and eyes still closed. He didn't need to see you to know it was you. He simply knew.

You said nothing and cuddled against him, sighing happily when he reciprocated.

Morning came faster, the early rays of sun peeking through the curtains. You cursed at yourself, having once again slept longer than planned. You checked both sides of the hallway, and once you deemed it safe, you exited. What you didn’t see was Luke leaving the bathroom, his hair unruly and barely awake.

‘’I…’’ you stammered, not knowing what to say.

He was fifteen, you could not trick him like Joffrey. He knew what you were doing in the guest bedroom.

So you bolted to your own, praying he would keep his tongue.

‘’Luke knows,’’ you blurted out as you descended the stairs for breakfast, the weight of the confession lingering in the air.

Downstairs, your mother had gone all out, setting up a massive brunch spread — eggs, bacon, hashbrowns, and even pancakes. Grandfather Lyonel would be coming over...along with your uncle Larys. The thought of him made your stomach twist; you had never been at ease in his presence, but he was your father’s half-brother, and that meant you had to force a smile and be nice.

Cregan furrowed his brows, concern creeping across his face. ''How?''

You quickly recounted the incident, watching as Cregan ran a hand through his dark hair, his expression growing tense. ‘’You think he’s gonna tell Jace?'' he asked, his voice dropping. ''Or worse...your dad? We got along well last night, but when he’ll find out—’’

‘’My dad is not the one we need to worry about,'' you interrupted softly, trying to ease his anxiety. ''Sure, he’s protective of us, and he might look like the kind of guy who could knock someone out with one punch, but he’d never do that to someone I care about. Not unless he had a damn good reason.''

As you reached the bottom of the stairs, Joffrey got down from his chair and dashed over to you, his small face lighting up with excitement. ‘’Mommy made pancakes!’’ he announced, his big brown eyes practically glowing. ‘’There’s blueberry ones, your favorites.’’ He grabbed both your hand and Cregan's, tugging insistently, messing up your plan to arrive separately.

At the table, Luke was talking — bragging — to grandfather Lyonel about school while Jace was helping your mom bring all the food to the table. And of course, Uncle Larys was just sitting there, observing everything with his usual quiet, unsettling presence.

At Joffrey’s urging, Cregan took a seat next to him. The little one had taken a strong liking to the hockey player, and you couldn’t help but hope that this budding friendship might work in your favor when it would all blow up.

‘’Careful, it's hot!'' Rhaenyra called out, entering with a plate full of bacon. ''Jace, can you bring the orange juice? Oh, and a small fork for Joffrey?''

You interrupted Luke and made your way to Grandfather Lyonel, wrapping him in a warm hug like you always did. ‘’Where’s Dad?’’ you asked, noticing his absence.

The burly man looked around for his son, not knowing either.

‘’I'm here, I'm here,'' Harwin’s familiar voice rang out from the sliding door as he entered, carrying a bowl of freshly picked strawberries. On top of his head was a handmade birthday crown, obviously crafted by Joffrey. ‘’Your mother forgot the strawberries. I had to fetch some from the garden.''

You grinned, stepping up to greet him. ‘’Happy birthday, Dad,’’ you said, kissing his cheek as you wrapped him in a hug.

Everyone sat around the table, and began filling their plates with food.

You mostly took blueberry pancakes, and some fruits from the garden. You had a sweet tooth this morning. From the corner of your eyes, you could see Joffrey talking a mile a minute between bites of pancakes and bacon. Cregan was trying his best to listen to your little brother — what he could make out of his words, anyway — but his attention was completely focused on you.

Two seats down from you, Luke was watching. You could feel his gaze on Cregan, and there was an unsettling tension beneath the surface. He knew something. He could let it slip at any moment and throw the whole breakfast into chaos. But, for now, he stayed silent.

‘’So,’’ Grandfather Lyonel began casually as he sipped his coffee, ‘’how's your first year of college treating you? Found yourself a boyfriend yet?''

The word 'boyfriend' had your bite of pancakes catching in your throat. Grabbing your coffee, you took a long gulp to wash it down, buying yourself a moment.

You shook your head, managing a calm smile. ‘’Not really. I’m keeping my focus on my academics,’’ you replied, briefly raising your eyes at Cregan, who was focussing on eating the content in his plate. The last time he had a home-made breakfast was with you.

You thought you were being discreet, but your grandfather noticed the short glance, as did your father who was right next to you.

Joffrey, oblivious to the tension, piped up, ‘’Jace has a girlfriend. Her name is Bella.’’

‘’Baela,’’ Jace corrected with a fond smile, shaking his head at the enthusiastic six-year-old.

Grandfather Lyonel smiled, happy for his grandson. ‘’That’s a lovely name.’’ He then turned to Cregan. ‘’And you, Cregan? Got a girlfriend? A handsome, well-mannered lad like you cannot be single.’’

Before he could answer, Joffrey piped up with the bluntness only a child could muster. ‘’I think you should date my sister,’’ he declared.

Jace’s head shot up, eyes wide.

Before him, Cregan chuckled uncomfortably, clutching his fork. ‘’Why is that, little one?’’

‘’Because you look at her like papa looks at mommy.’’ He said it so pure and innocently, yet it was true.

The silence that followed was so loud it didn’t take long for Jace to connect the dots. The truth hung in the air, undeniable and clear. Cregan shifted awkwardly in his seat, and you felt your heart pound in your chest.

Jace glanced between you and the one he called his best friend. His nostrils were flared, shock and outrage painted across his face. ‘’How long has this been going on?’’ His brown eyes glared daggers at Cregan, waiting for an answer. ‘’How long have you been keeping this from me?’’

‘’Jace,’’ your father’s voice cut through the tension, firm but gentle, an attempt to stop the situation from spiraling any further.

But Jace wasn’t listening, angry at his friend’s betrayal. ‘’How can you betray me like that? I would have expected it from Robb or Theon, not from you. You pride yourself to be loyal and honorable, but where is your loyalty in this? Where is the honor in disregarding my one and only rule?’’

He was allowed to be upset that you and Cregan spent the last two months seeing each other behind his back. It’s a reaction that was expected. But you hated that he was painting his best friend as the villain. Cregan never used you, it was never his intention. He knew what he was risking when he kissed you back that rainy afternoon in his car. Yet, he couldn’t ignore his feelings — and neither could you.

‘’How can you make this all about you?’’ you asked, shaking your head in disbelief. ‘’Can’t you see past your own selfish feelings that maybe Cregan does love me for me and not just to piss you off? This is exactly why we didn’t tell you anything.’’ You gestured around the room.

Cregan, who had remained silent until now, took a deep breath before speaking, his voice calm but firm. ‘’You know I don’t play around with girls. I would never use your sister the way you think I am. Come on, Jace. You know me.’’ There was a pause, allowing Jace to absorb his words, then he continued. ‘’I’m truly sorry for keeping this from you, but can you blame me? Put yourself in our shoes. You think I wanted to sneak around and lie to everyone about the girl I love? It might look cool in movies, but it’s not in real life. It’s just stress and pain.’’

The room was so quiet you could almost hear a pin drop. No one dared speaking around the table. It was only silent glances.

What a way to ruin your father’s birthday…

A few hours later, you found yourself sitting outside, your heart heavy. The house had grown quiet after the earlier commotion, the celebratory mood from the family gathering long gone. Grandfather Lyonel and uncle Larys had left. The former had apologized for starting the conflict, but you told him it was not his fault. It was bound to happen anyway.

You apologized to your father — and mother — for ruining his birthday. It was his turn to shake his head and pull you in his arms.

The air had gotten colder as it neared sundown, but you didn’t want to go inside. You liked the soft stillness of the open air. It was a calming contrast to the fight from this morning.

The drive back to college was going to be tense tomorrow. You already dreaded it.

Unbeknownst to you, Jace was watching you through the glass of the sliding doors. He stood there for a moment, observing you and Cregan sitting quietly together on the patio furniture. Your head was leaned on his shoulder, curled up at his side, and his left arm wrapped around you. He recognized the Wolves hoodie on your back, Cregan’s number and name on it.

It wasn't until he saw Cregan kiss the top of your head and the soft smile that instantly bloomed on your face that Jace realized that maybe Cregan was good for you.

—

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dadvans · 4 months

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my favorite line in the entire bucktommy saga is maddie's reading of "wait, it's the same tommy?" because at that point you know this girl has been THROUGH IT way too many times in a short period, like:

her soon-to-be husband comes home. he just fake called out sick from work to fly into a hurricane with his closest coworkers, her disaster-prone brother she mostly raised included, to save his boss and his wife. he tells her all about it, adrenaline still pumping the day after he comes back from the COAST OF MEXICO, and is like, no, it's fine! see, my old co-worker tommy works in air ops and I saved his life once, and we used to be super tight--[insert 10 minute off-topic backstory about how tommy used to be a jackass but now he's different here]--until he moved away, and funny enough, buck was the guy who filled in for him? anyways, tommy's the coolest, we could've died but we didn't! how was your shift at dispatch, honey

her brother she pretty much raised comes over and also brings up this tommy guy. yeah, he's so cool! do you think it would be weird if i called him up and asked for a tour of harbor? he just seemed like a neat guy, i want to be his friend, you think chim would put in a good word for me?

her brother she pretty much raised comes over AGAIN and is like, okay FUCK this tommy guy, he's so cool and knows everyone and his meat is huge!!! my best friend likes him more than me and they're doing things without me and i'm so sad about this in a really abstract way, can i please have a bagel

her soon-to-be husband comes home in the middle of this and is like, yeah he's cool and knows everyone and his meat is definitely huge. LOVE that guy!

her brother she pretty much raised shows up at her workplace and is like, remember how i was experiencing jealous thoughts and feelings because the coolest guy i've ever met with the biggest meat isn't paying attention to me and is new besties with my best friend? i may have caused bodily harm about this and yes i did involve your almost husband as a co-conspirator

approximately 2-to-3 business days pass where she experiences quiet. maybe too much quiet

her brother she pretty much raised comes over for a fourth time and is like, i lied to my best friend who i was just telling you i was angry at and s l i g h t l y injured because he kept hanging out with this other guy i was trying to hang out with and totally unrelated but i went on this date with someone and lied to my best friend about it and oh yeah it's the same guy but that is so besides the point it's not even worth mentioning

justice for maddie

#bucktommy #911 abc

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targaryen-dynasty · 3 months

Text

VIOLENT DELIGHTS.

Aemond Targaryen x twin sister!Reader

"Being summoned to your brother's most recent council meeting as a means to intervene should the rising tensions between your brothers turn into a serious problem, you find another way to de-escalate the situation."

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MDNI; dubios content, canon typical incest/targcest (twins), p in v, fingering, table sex, semi public sex, high valyrian, female reader (described with valyrian attributes)

WORDS: 2.3 K

NOTES: First day of PTO and your girl is spending it wise! 💅 Watch me being utterly distressed by episode four but giving you all some delicious smut to make up for it. This is not beta read!

You should have grown suspicious when you’ve been called as cupbearer for Aegon’s most recent small council by your mother, attending it in the background while she can not. It’s clear you’ve been summoned by her to be a means to de-escalate should it be necessary, for even a fool could notice that the tension between your brothers is high, teetering on the edge to turn into a serious problem.

And it’s almost your turn to intervene when your twin brother decides to best your older brother, humiliating him in a language none of the other members of the Small Council understand.

A clearly struck Aegon strides out of the chambers in the following, his councilmen quickly filing out as well, leaving just you and your twin. He leans forward, running his nail across the stone in what appears to be deep contemplation.

You step out of the shadows, the chalice filled with Arbor Red placed on the table. “Ziry gōntan daor hae bona, ao gīmigon,” you speak first, breaking the thick silence. He did not like that, you know.

He lets out a sigh, his sharp gaze flickering from his hand up to you. “Well, he never does. He’s weak. Incapable,” he replies, purposely speaking in the Common Tongue. “A coward, really. Bisa iksis vīlībāzma, daor iā tymptir. Emi naejot act adere lo jaeli naejot ērinagon.” This is war, not a game. We have to act quickly if we want to win.

“Kessa, bisa iksis vīlībāzma,” you say, approaching him with your arms crossed and a roll of your eyes before leaning against the table. The tip of your tongue presses against the inside of your cheek as you contemplate your next words. “But Aegon is still the King, and you will need to tread more carefully. It does put neither of you in a good light.“ Yes, this is war.

The way he studies you so carefully would make any other person crumble, but not you, you‘ve shared a womb, and his cruelty and snideness is not reserved for you. Usually.

“What would a woman such as yourself know of war and politics? You speak with the naivety of a child. You might have claimed the Bronze Fury, but that does not make up for your lack of true war experience.“

An eyebrow raises in response to his condescending tone. You look back at him confidently, challenging, and don‘t hesitate to speak your mind. “Oh? I could say the exact same thing about you, brother. Vhagar has helped conquer Westeros, but that does not make you Visenya come again. And just because I do not revel in war and politics does not mean I do not understand them.”

The way he sets his jaw is subtle, barely noticeable, but makes you well aware that you‘re playing with fire, and when there doesn‘t come an answer, you can‘t help but stoke the flame.

Running your fingers along the stoney surface, you allow your eyes to follow them, not daring to meet his gaze as you poke his soft spot. “You have been awfully insufferable lately, brother. Ever since you… killed the little Lord Strong that is.“

With his smirk beginning to falter, Aemond rises from his seat, towering over you. Both his hands grip the edges of the table, capturing you between it and his firm body. “Watch your tongue, idaña,“ he snarls through gritted teeth. “You speak of things you don’t understand.“ Twin.

You don’t back down. Letting out a scoff, you hold your chin high as you lock your gazes, looking at him defiantly. “No? Then, by all means, enlighten me, oh mighty war scholar. Teach me the tales you have learned while I stayed cooped up in the castle. Tell me all about your brilliant plans for war you have hatched with Ser Criston Cole behind our King‘s back.“

Aemond reaches to brush your hair from your shoulder, fingers ghosting along the warm skin of your neck, making a shiver run down your spine. Where annoyance has danced in his eye before, there‘s now something else simmering right beneath the surface.

“Insolent, spoiled, naïve and ignorant,“ he hums, breath fanning over your skin as his eye roams over your face. “Do you know how badly I wish to shut that mouth of yours?“

Not the least bit impressed, a scoff leaves your lips. Your heartbeat, however, betrays your stern facade, all but hammering inside your chest. “You could try,” you challenge, voice smooth as silk but eyes filled with a dangerous spark. “What, with that silver tongue of yours?”

In one quick, unexpected movement, Aemond has his hands on your waist and hoists you up, not-so-gently splaying your body out over the table. With his body looming over yours, one hand pins you to the table at your hip, while the other grabs your jaw, forcing you to withstand his burning gaze. “I have something far, far more effective in mind.”

You’re suddenly unable to bite back the sharp intake of breath that escapes your throat as everything changes in a split second. Heat rushes through your body, and without thinking, your legs part, welcoming his body in between them. Your mouth is dry, but you try to keep a level head. “Do you truly think yourself capable of shutting me up?”

“Yes, I do… but perhaps I prefer you this way. My sweet, defiant sister who always needs to run her lovely, impudent mouth.”

Wetting your lips, you stare up at him with half-lidded eyes. The grip on your jaw is firm yet gentle, his fingers digging into your flesh. A faint tremor runs through your thighs at the feeling of his body pressed so tightly against yours, the hardness of his cock not hidden by the sturdy fabric of his breeches.

Despite being pinned to the table by him, you scramble to reach some of his coat, fisting it tightly to pull him onto your body and capture his lips in a heated kiss. Albeit grunting, Aemond’s body responds instinctively at the action, putting his weight onto yours, his hips grinding leisurely against yours.

He lets out a low groan, and the hand that has rested on your hip greedily tugs on the skirt of your dress, pulling it up enough to grant him access to what lays between your thighs. Swallowing every sound that may spill past your lips, his tongue delves deeper into your mouth in a demanding, possessive kiss.

You wrap your arms around his neck, keeping him close as his one hand makes quick work of your smallclothes, the seams too easily giving in with the sheer force he uses to yank them off of your body.

Gasping for air as you pull away from him, you lick your kiss swollen lips. “What if anyone sees us?”

Aemond grins, his lips trailing a hot path down your throat. “Ivestragī zirȳ,” he breathes. His hand slips between your legs, dragging through your soaked folds before he eases two digits inside, chuckling when you clench around him. Entangling his other hand in your silver curls, he pulls on it slightly to tug your head back, exposing your neck to his hungry kisses. “Ivestragī zirȳ ūndegon skorkydoso jorrāelagon iksā syt nyke.” Let them. Let them see how desperate you are for me.

That’s all the conviction you need, not that you’d do anything for him anyways at this point, being putty in his hands already.

Responding to his touch, your body shudders and arches against him, your eyes fluttering shut in pure bliss as his fingers push in and out of you, brushing your sweet spot. But he’s not having any of it. Aemond’s hand leaves your hair and captures your jaw again, fingers digging into your cheeks. “Jurnegon rȳ nyke. Jaelan naejot ūndegon aōha laehurlion skori nyke renigon ao.” Look at me. I want to see your face when I touch you.

You stare up at him with wide, dark-blown eyes, gripping his shoulders tightly to keep yourself grounded. “Iksā iā mittys,” you gasp, yet there is no ill intent behind these words. You are a fool.

The heat emanating from him is maddening, causing your whole body to tense and your peak approach you so abruptly. But Aemond would not be your twin, if he didn’t know you better than anyone else, and just moments before you’re toppling over the edge, he withdraws his fingers from you, tsking.

“You weren’t just peaking, were you?” he teases, taking his hand off of your jaw.

You pout at the sudden loss and the pleasure slowly but surely fading away again, leaving you aground and full of conviction he’s just riled you up for his own sake of enjoyment.

You’re positively surprised when you follow his hand down between your bodies, joining his other to swiftly undo the laces in front of his breeches and the last buckle of his coat.

“I shall not waste the first time you peak for me with my fingers,” he grunts, placing one hand on the stoney surface of the table, propping himself up, as the other aligns his hard cock with your cunt, forcing himself inside in one, swift thrust. It’s an instinctive mechanism as you wrap your legs around his waist, desperate to keep him close.

The intrusion has you both groaning; you, because of the delicious sting that comes with accommodating his size, and he, because he has barely filled you up and you’re already squeezing the life out of him.

“Gods, no,” Aemond pants, taking a moment once he’s fully sheathed inside of you. “You will wet my cock when you peak, is that understood?”

It’s almost pathetic how eagerly you nod your head at that, causing your twin to scoff.

Despite this being the first time you lay with him, neither of you lacks experience. The pace he sets up is merciless, and reasonable for the both of you, bringing you quick to something you’ve craved for so long.

Aemond’s cock hits the spot inside of you that makes your jaw slacken over and over again, bringing you closer to completion. He bows forwards, capturing your lips again. The kiss is passionate, all teeth and all tongue, and full of unsaid words and hidden actions.

Where previously the voices of the councilmen advising the king on their plans for war have bounced off the walls, there now are the sounds of skin slapping skin and wanton moans and groans, filling the otherwise quiet and empty chamber. Neither of you cares if your little act can be heard outside of these thick doors – with the realm being in a state of uproar anyways, there surely are more important matters that keep the keep’s residents occupied.

With the hem of his tunic rubbing so perfectly against your sensitive pearl each time his hips meet yours, you can feel the pressure inside of you returning, making you even more desperate for relief.

Your hips start to rut against his in a haze, chasing the hope of completion. You swallow each other’s sounds of pleasure, greedily drinking down everything the other has to offer without daring to tear away from each other. So much for him wanting to watch you fall apart.

As the pleasure soars through your body, your thighs lock around his hips, making it impossible for him to keep up his reckless pace. But there is no need for that anyways, for you can feel your peak’s contractions practically forcing the seed out of his cock. Your convulsing walls milk him for every drop of his spill, coating your insides.

It’s when the liquid fire inside of your veins subsides that you pull away from each other, allowing you to fill your lungs with air again. He leans his forehead against yours, still looming over your frame. Gathering his own bearings, he’s closed his good eye, trying to steady his labored breathing.

Lust still lingers thick in the air, hence he’s not pulling out of you even after his cock has grown flaccid again. Instead, he enjoys the proximity, the feigned moment of calmness, as if there isn’t a war raging right outside of this very keep.

While he presses gentle kisses to the faint marks he’s left on your cheeks and jaw, “Nevertheless, my opinion has not changed, brother,” you mumble in between heavy breaths, a tinge of teasing in your tone.

Aemond chuckles, a slight smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Oh, of course not,” he says, voice thick from your previous activities. He moves with slow, languid movements, rolling his hips against yours. It’s enough for some sense of overstimulation kicking in, yet you can’t squirm away from him. He bows his head down, bringing his lips on a level with your ear. “But there still is some time for me to change your mind before I have to sit on dragon back.”

Bringing your hands to his shoulders again, you arch against him. “Gaomagon daor pendagon sīr eglie hen aōla, lēkia,” you tease. Do not think so highly of yourself, brother.

“Nyke pendagon hen nykēla vok.” I think of myself quite appropriately.

It’s a back and forth between you for as long as it takes, and even then, your twin’s diligence has not been able to surpass your stubbornness. But perhaps that is not what you both want anyways?

Only when it’s time for him to set off to the Riverlands, mounting his dragon to support your brother’s forces, do you two part – but not without the promise of him living up to his words once he returns, determined to make himself at home between your legs once more.

Aemond Taglist: @persephonerinyes @dr-aegon @schniiipsel @thekinslayed @baizzhu

@legitalicat @eponaartemisa @peachysunrize @blackswxnn @odairtrqsh

@mfedits @luvdella @jays-bullshit @justarandomgal

@decaffeinatedparadisepost @gelacat0413 @dracaryxzs

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earth4angels · 3 months

Text

𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐢'𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

jacaerys velaryon x aunt!targaryen reader ͟ ͟ ͟ friends to lovers, sexual content but no smut, incest (reader is aunt), fluff, semi angst(?), aemond being dumb, jace knows how to fight, i refuse to believe laenor never taught his kids how to defend themselves. slight switch of povs, basically the dinner fight, but added my own take, not edited.

summary: after the accident in driftmark the relationship between y/n and jacaerys became distant, when it came to the petition of the heir to driftmark, feelings came back full force. it took a bloody fight yet again to get jacaerys to act on his feelings before it was too late. but also, to unite the house of the dragon.

a/n: um? this is probably more than 1k words, i really went in. i had so much fun writing this & gosh.. do i have the guts to expand their relationship BUT ANYWAYS ENJOYYYY

somewhat based on this request. jace tag list: @jacaerysgf, @star611, @jules420, @gracexthoughts, @astrxq, @reyndaisy, @hxtd

For as long as Jacaerys can remember, he had always felt deep affection for his dearest aunt who was no more than a year older.

At first, it started with a childish admiration for how she spoke to him, how she would run her fingers through his curls when he would run towards her after sword training, read stories about the doom, or Visenya who she claimed was the best warrior to ever exist. Jacaerys admired her, she was his favorite aunt not that he had many but besides Helaena, she was his favorite. Again, it started with a childish crush. The smallfolk had a joke spread about how if anyone wanted to find Y/N, one had to look for small Jacaerys who followed closely behind her like a pup.

She never minded the talk, she loved her siblings and her nephews, it was one thing that differed her from her own brothers, who grew to despise the Velaryon boys. She loved Jacaerys, the way he always spoke of his growing bond with Vermax, the small adventures they would take to the gardens, or the adventures they took through the secret passages, and the library. She especially loved the moments he would sneak her strawberry cakes during her high valyrian studies when no one was looking. To her, Jacaerys was so dear to her heart, she dreamed childishly how it would be if they married.

She never understood why the hatred grew to the point everything that pointed toward her older sister was prohibited. Her siblings never had a close relationship with their father, but she did, she enjoyed the stories her father told her, but she mostly loved building and painting his replica of the seven kingdoms with him. Her father, King Viserys had always talked to her about protecting their own, as it was said, the House of the Dragon had to stay together to hold the realm united.

"Damn bastard," Aemond muttered under his breath as he rushed past her dusting his now muddy training gear. She narrowed her eyes at her brother, the word bringing her to wince. It was not the first time she heard it, at the age of 6, her mother had prohibited her from spending time with her half-sister and her children since the fight at Driftmark. She understood why, but she could not bring herself to be cold towards her half-family.

"Brother, enough." Y/n had her hand up to his shoulder, Aemond's one eye glared at her, "You must learn to let go of this anger, it is treason to speak of that word out loud."

Aemond scoffed, "Of course, my dear sister, protecting the bastards, you still defend them after what they did to me?" Aemond had snatched his eyepatch from his eye, showing its bright blue glow of a gem towards her.

"Brother... we were all children! Luce was only protec-" She choked as she was now slammed against the wall, a hand tight around her neck, she wildly stared at him, alarmed.

"Protecting? Dear sister, you are more than a fool. You rather protect bastards than the blood of the dragon?" Aemond chuckled in disbelief, "You, the same as father are fools."

He let go of her as she slumped against the wall, her hand clasped around her throat as she heaved, trying to get air back into her lungs. She watched teary-eyed from the loss of air the shadows of her brother grow distant with the further he went down the hall.

"Y/n?" a voice spoke from the opposite side of the hall. She looked back to meet the face of her once-best friend. "Seven hells! What happened?!"

Jacaerys rushed towards her, lifting her carefully as if she were the most fragile jewel to exist. In a sense to Jacaerys, she was.

She blinked, confused as to where he had come from. The last time she saw him, they were children, and he had promised to write her, yet after five ravens, the letters stopped, causing her to believe he had grown to hate her for what happened that night. It was then she realized why Aemond was so upset, why her mother suddenly left her and Heleana from embroidery to attend the council. Her mother avoided greeting her half-sister. Today was the petition of who was going to take over Driftmark. The house of the dragon was united once again, but not in the way she wanted to.

"Nephew?" She asked, confused again.

"Come, sit here. Let me get you some water," Jacaerys had placed her in the comfort of the shade of a tree. He had removed his cloak, placing it on the ground for her to sit as he ran to get her water. She stayed in silence beside her dry coughs that slipped once in a while. Jacaerys appeared again with a glass of water, she muttered a soft thank you before she drank till her throat was once again free from the harsh itches.

She looked toward him, finding him looking at her softly, his eyes burying themselves in the soft lilac color of her eyes. She blushed, coughing to avoid looking at him instead she focused on the grass beside her, picking at it softly.

"So... care to explain why you have a red mark on your neck?"

Y/n bit the inside of her cheek before she focused her stare on the blank blue sky, if Jacaerys was not paying attention he would have missed the soft murmur of her voice, "It was nothing."

Jacaerys opened his mouth to argue when the bells of the castle banged so hard that they echoed through the hallways.

"Don't think I won't let this go y/n," he spoke softly beside her, she only blinked in response. He shook his head as his tongue touched the roof of his mouth and he let go, making a sound that almost sounded like a click.

"You should go, my sister would probably be worried as to why you are taking so long. It is rude to keep your mother waiting."

Jacaerys rolled his eyes, before he lifted a hand towards her, a gesture for her to grab onto it. She stared at his pale hand, taking a moment to admire the changes, he was muscular now, and no more stood the boy who almost looked easy to push around. She followed the path of his hand toward his face, her breath hitching when she realized he still wore the necklace she had made him when they were children.

"You... you kept it?" Y/n stuttered, pointing to his neck. Jacaerys hummed, touching it delicately, his fingers rubbing softly at the soft shells. She had made that the day of Laena's funeral, she went and followed the path towards the beach to find seashells. She made it in hopes for him to feel better. She never thought he would keep it after all those years.

"Why wouldn't I?"

She stood up on her own avoiding his touch in fear she might want to curl into the safety of his hold.

“Go figure. You stopped writing to me.”

“What?” Jacaerys stood in front of her, stopping her from stepping another step further from him, “I never stopped? What do you mean I stopped? I sent so many ravens to you. I never heard from you after the fourth or fifth one.”

Now she was confused. “I sent you ravens too! You never sent me any back, I waited… I figured you just blamed me for what happened,” she muttered.

Jacaerys did another click with his tongue, before he reached out to her, her small hands fitting perfectly well inside his.

“Whatever happened that night, it’s forgotten. We were children, you were not even there for me to blame you. Aemond being your brother changes nothing, I still care for you just as much as I did when I was a child.”

She tightened the hold of his hands between hers before looking into his eyes, all she found was a soft gaze, not anything that was malicious, as she would find mostly in Aemond’s eye.

She opened her mouth, then closed it, she did not want to tell him how she felt for him. It was like Jacaerys had read her mind, though he was one year behind her, he always looked after her, to Jacaerys - she was everything he wanted in a wife, and he dreamed of making her as such.

“I’ve missed you, did you not?” he lifted one hand to caress her braid that was left falling off her shoulder to slowly reaching for her cheek where he held her delicately once again.

Y/n smiled, the fluttering feeling in her stomach making it hard to not release a giggle, she felt home.

“Of course I did Jace, I missed you so much.”

Ser Arryk spoke from the entrance of the garden, his armor glittering with the rays of the sun reflecting it, “Princess? The queen is expecting you in the grand hall.”

She nodded, feeling regretful of not spending more time with Jace, she had so much to tell him, to get caught up on.

“Thank you Ser Arryk, I will be there in a minute.”

She looked towards Jace again finding him still looking at her, a glint of mischief flashed, she narrowed her eyes making him smirk, “I guess you have to go aunt.”

The way he said it made her want to clench her thighs together, she cleared her throat, “I’ll see you soon my dearest nephew.”

He laughed like the word from her mouth was the biggest joke he had heard. His curls bouncing with the shake of his body, he reached down for her hand, placing a lingering kiss, “Princess.”

She watched as he turned, walking towards the grand hall passing Ser Arryk who bowed his head. Her stomach was still fluttering, all she wanted to do was jump and roll in the comfort of her bed, but she needed to meet her family and yet again witness another rift between the family.

"Her children," a long pause echoed through the grand hall, Y/n had her hands interlaced with each other, squeezing them so hard her skin was becoming white. She quickly glanced around the room, noticing her brothers smirking with anticipation, to her half-sister's family. She came across the eyes of her prince, who looked seconds from using his sharp sword to kill. She licked her lips, the anxiety building, she knew what was coming, and honestly, she was looking forward to it.

"ARE BASTARDS! And she is, a whore," Vaemond exclaimed.

Echoes of gasps and murmurs were heard, but Y/n blocked it as it all happened quickly. The blood splattered harshly like a quick burst of wind splashing her dark emerald dress. She gasped, her body being pulled back by Aegon who quickly acted to wipe off the blood off her dress and the little that landed on her face.

She would lie if she said she did not enjoy what she saw, in fact, she was glad it happened. That word being tossed around needed to be acted with a consequence, and she was proud of Daemon for warning those who followed Vaemond in speaking of her family that way.

The court ended and she was left rushed to her chambers, her ladies-in-waiting rushing to prepare a quick bath as her father requested them to have dinner together.

"You all can go," y/n spoke as she untied the laces off her dress.

"Princess-" Elydia, her closest handmaiden reached towards her to help her protested.

"Please, I need to have some moments alone, I will notify when finished."

"Princess."

She sighed, the weight on her shoulders becoming too heavy, she rolled her head side to side to relieve the pain. As she sunk into the rose-covered bath, moaning in bliss from the warmth she was sunken into, a knock was heard from her bed chamber. A familiar series of knocks, one that she missed hearing, sparking a rush of adrenaline.

She rushed to throw on a light blue gown, her hair soaking the silk material, making her breasts noticeable. Her footsteps were rushed as she reached the familiar wall by her bed, she knocked a similar tune before she pushed into it.

Jacaerys stood behind the wall, in his hands laid a wooden box with letters, her letters.

"Hi," he spoke softly, his voice sending butterflies all over her body

"Hi," she moved aside to let him enter her room, her eyes flickering quickly to the door of her room before eyeing the male before her, "What are you doing here? If my guards, see you... the scandal we could be in!"

He smirked, his plum juicy lips - she did not want to stare so much but she could not help observing him - quirked to the side, "That did not stop us when we were children."

She scoffed, "You said it yourself when we were children."

He smiled mockingly before he stopped in his tracks. He did not expect to see her so... vulnerable. The fantasies started to play out in his mind, he recalled all those moments he thought of her late at night. The fire ignited inside of him when he saw her in the garden, her hair flowing through the wind, her soft features to her soft lilac eyes.

Jacaerys wanted to propose to her mother a betrothal, to finally make y/n his, to act out all the fantasies he thought when she appeared in his mind.

"Jace?" She whispered, feeling self-conscious about the way he stared at her. He looked ready to bounce, his brown eyes scanning her up and down, she squeezed her thighs together.

"You... aunt I can see you wholly," he cleared his throat to avoid his voice sounding so raspy.

"Excuse me?" Y/n was confused until he gestured to her body, "Oh... Oh!" Her cheeks blossomed with a deep scarlet red tint; she rushed across the room to grab her robe tightly wrapping it around her body.

Jacaerys cleared his throat again, "Um... I just wanted to stop by before we saw each other at dinner again, the letters you had sent me."

Her cheeks still stained with red walked towards him, gathering the box between her hands, "So what with it?"

"I received and sent you letters y/n. I never stopped writing to you, I even made Mother annoyed with how many times I have asked her if there was ever anything sent to me."

She blinked her confusion, "Jacaerys I always wrote to you, your letters never came but I always sent you updates how things were here - "

"I know of everything, but I am giving you complete honesty on the fact that I never stopped," he stepped towards her, his hand on her cheek with his thumb rubbing soft circles calming her.

"What do you want me to do with that information? Do you know how much our families hate each other? How much Aemond goes around cursing Luce's name, your name? I shouldn't even be talking to yo-"

She stopped when he stepped closer, she felt his breath on her lips, her eyes darted down his lips to his eyes. Her breath hitched, he was so close. So close, she just wanted to taste how soft his lips truly were.

"Tell me to go, and I will. I will never bother you again, but tell me, you never want to see me, and I will."

Jacaerys hoped she never spoke of the words, as he wanted to kiss her, to tell her of the once confession he wrote in those many letters. She was just so pretty; he wanted to steal her and take her to Dragonstone where he wanted to marry her. He wanted to taste the sweetness between her legs, to have her scream, moan out his name, to fill her belly with the future heirs of Westeros.

His hand stayed on her cheek as he continued to stare, waiting for her to speak. Her breaths came out shallow and she began to shake with need.

"Don't go," she whispered, her hands reaching to grab his shoulders, pulling him closer towards her, "Please don't leave me."

"Gods," he wrapped his arms around her as he shakingly asked her, afraid she will finally reject him, but he hoped, "Can I kiss you?"

She gasped, the dazed look in her eyes fading as she began to pull away, "No... No... we can't Jacaerys! We are not betrothed, we are not promised to each other, my virtue could be quest-"

Her rambles were left to the old gods to wonder as Jacaerys placed his lips on her, "No offense, but you talk a lot."

She groaned against his lips at the jab he made but melted into the kiss, a kiss she longed for as the feelings that she did not want to admit surfaced. She only read books about the acts of kissing, yet she felt as if she knew with the way she kissed Jacaerys.

Her core suddenly felt tingly with how he was holding her, his hand deep inside her hair as the other ran down the silk of her gown to hitch a leg around his waist as he guided her down her bed.

"Jace..." she moaned, her throat begging for air as she pulled away, yet he did not stop, his lips trailing down her cheeks, prepping her with soft kisses to finally nipping at her throat. She moaned again.

"I have always wanted to do this," he whispered against her throat, "I badly want to take you, to have you sore, so fucked out of your mind that you forget your own name," he raised his head, his elbow by her head to prep himself just so he can look down at her.

She breathed heavily, "You..." she reached out, "You can't..."

"I would never dishonor you that way, but I will fight to make you, my wife. I will speak to mother, to my grandsire."

"Jace..."

He placed a kiss on her nose, smiling when she let out a giggle, "Tell me you also want me."

"I never wanted to admit it, but I do, I have always wanted you."

A knock disturbed their sweet bubble, and they both scrambled away from each other as y/n pulled her gown down. Jacaerys grabbed his cloak she did not even realize he had removed as he moved to the secret passage again.

"Princess? The queen requests your presence, dinner will start shortly."

She looked at Jacaerys as he whispered, "I will see you soon aunt." Y/n rolled her eyes but still smiled as she nodded.

The wall closed, and as if nothing happened, the room became quiet once again, she gathered her thoughts as she replied, "Almost done, please help me dress Elydia."

The entire time she was prepped for dinner she was smiling to herself. She could not wait to see her prince again. She had even requested for her hair to be loose, just two small braids creating a crown decorated her. She had wanted to look perfect for him.

Dinner was awkward, to say the least. Her family was beyond divided, as she sat beside Helaena, it was too quiet, the only noises came from the cooks who were walking around to place the food on the table. She watched as Aemond sent nonstop glares towards her nephews.

She had found out through Helaena that Aemond had lost against Jacaerys during training. Jacaerys had taken his sword one minute into sparring. It finally made sense why Aemond was so upset when she came across him in the garden. Her lips tugged into a quiet snicker at the idea of her brother being put in his place.

As she drank her wine, her father spoke.

"It pains me to see our family divided. As the house of the dragon, we must be united to have the kingdom prosper in peace. All of you must leave behind your childish arguments! Do it for me, your father, your brother, your husband, your grandsire. Leave behind this anger!"

As her older sister stood to make a toast in hopes of making peace with her mother, she made eye contact with Jacaerys who was already looking at her. He smiled softly at her before he looked towards his mother, his mouth turning into a smirk as he hid it behind his glass of wine. Her eyebrows furrowed, and as she was going to question her sister's voice came through.

"... It has been decided for the good of our families, and to make the future of House Targaryen stronger, that Princess Y/n, and my son, Prince Jacaerys be wed. They shall be in the future the King and Queen of the Seven Kingdoms."

Alicent shot up from her chair, "What?!"

Viserys wheezed but held strong as he banged his hands onto the table preventing an argument once again, "I wholeheartedly agree to this proposal as my dearest grandson himself asked to be wed to my beautiful daughter. They are to be wed as soon as possible."

Y/n couldn't help but smile widely, "Thank you, father," she looked towards her oldest sister, "Sister."

"Har! Har! Har!" Daemon raised his glass with a mischief glint in his eyes, his mouth into a wide smirk, he enjoyed seeing Alicent and Otto Hightower's plans get ruined.

Her mother could not argue against the newest betrothal since the King had officially declared it. She also had made peace with her once close friend as they toasted to each other. However, that did not stop her brothers from having a mind of their own, their mouths ready to retaliate.

As the night passed, and her father was no longer there to hold the peace, she held her breath as she knew, no she felt the anger boiling from her family. Aegon was the first to let out jests, and with that followed Aemond who did not hold back.

Jacaerys stood, his hand slammed into his uncle's shoulders to sit him back onto his seat, "You will keep your mouth shut about my betrothed. Jest all you want about me, but my wife-to-be, you will keep shut. Understood?"

Aegon snickered, satisfied with the reaction, he lifted his hands up in surrender.

She did not want to admit how it ignited such a need for her soon-to-be husband. She has never found him any hotter than what he looked like. His curls covered his dark gaze, his veiny long hands clasped together as to hold himself back.

"Boys. Enough. Let's finish dinner without any more arguments." Rhaenyra spoke in hopes of stopping the tension that was boiling.

It was enough for a moment. As Lucerys snickered at the pig that was placed on the table, in hopes for his uncle to join in the fun, as he believed it was an innocent act of jest. The blood came and what was a peaceful dinner, turned into the dragon's war.

"I dare you to say that again," Jace spoke from beside her, his hand holding hers to calm himself.

"Are you not proud of your house, dear nephew?" Aemond mocked, Aegon snickered, as the adults surrounding them stopped their dinner to hear what was going on, "I thought you considered yourself a strong knight."

A growl-like rumble came from Jacaerys as he rushed to punch her brother over and over. She scrambled towards them, yelling for them to stop, Aemond had gotten two hits through, but Jacaerys had the upper hand as his knuckles were bloodied. The guards had come to pull her brothers and nephews apart.

"Enough! All of you, back to your chambers! Now!" Rhaenyra spoke, sending them to their rooms. Y/n felt the angry tears stream down from the exhaustion of the fights between her family.

She yelped when a hand pulled her into the shadows of pillars. With a scream stuck in her throat, she widened her eyes at Jacaerys who had his hand on her mouth to stop her from screaming.

"Come back home with me, we will marry before the old gods," he whispered.

"But if I leave, I can potentially make mother and grandsire even more mad..."

"You are already promised to me, the realm will soon learn of it, ravens are being sent as we speak. Nothing will be able to stop our union, please. Just come home with me."

She hoped she was not making a mistake, for she loved Jacaerys so much more than waiting around for her family to come between her happiness. She only hoped, this union, would unite the realm and stop any possible war that Helaena had spoken of. As she kissed Jacaerys in the shadows, the said sister smiled as she poked another thread into a gown to continue the embroidery.

"From the blood of red and green, the pain will end as the union will bring peace once again."

#jacaerys velaryon #house of the dragon #jacaerys targaryen #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys x oc #jacaerys targaryen x reader #hotd x reader #house of the dragon fanfiction #jacaerys x aunt! reader #hotd x y/n #jacaerys velaryon x reader #prince jacaerys #hotd jacaerys #𓇼 nattie's works

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phefics · 10 months

Text

veritaserum

ship: fred weasley x reader x george weasley summary: fred and george dose the reader with a truth serum, which leads to her admitting a sexual fantasy including both brothers. warnings: dubious consent (truth potion is used to make the reader admit her sexual fantasies which then play out), pseudo-inc3st (the twins don't do anything sexual to each other but are both involved in the same sexual scenario), gender-neutral!reader (reader has a vagina but no pronouns are used) word count: 1.9k

Being friends with the Weasley twins was a constant rollercoaster.

There was never a dull moment, always an adventure to go on, a prank to pull, or witty banter bouncing between you and the brothers. Sometimes, you were helping Fred and George pull off their next big joke, but other times, you were their target. Sure, it could be frustrating, but it was also fun for you, and you always found ways to get them back.

You had been friends with the twins since your first year at Hogwarts, and that friendship had continued past Hogwarts and followed you into early-adulthood. You visited them at the flat over their shop in Diagon Alley often, where they showed you prototypes for new products and made you laugh until you cried with their antics.

It was a cold evening when you appeared in their fireplace, a bit dusty from the ashes, and were greeted with excited shouts from Fred and George before being pulled into a group hug.

As you looked up at their grinning faces, you couldn’t believe that there were people who still got the twins confused.

Fred had more freckles on his face, while George’s shoulders and arms had an abundance of them. When Fred laughed, he threw his head back, cackling loudly, while George usually gave more reserved chuckles, laughing down at his lap. And, well, George was fully missing an ear now, and Fred had a large scar on his temple from the Battle, where a piece of castle wall had crashed down on top of him.

“Finally,” Fred said, man-handling you onto the couch. “We’ve been waiting ages!”

“I’m only a few minutes late,” you replied, glancing at their clock, which wasn’t even working—it read 3:15, but it was well past 7:00 judging by the darkness outside.

“And are our few minutes not important to you?” George asked, sitting by your side. “We could have been using that time to come up with more brilliant inventions.”

“Or planned a clever scheme to spill a bucket of water on your head when you arrived,” Fred added.

You rolled your eyes. “I’m terribly sorry to have wasted your precious time,” you said, tone thick with sarcasm.

It was nice catching up with them. They updated you on each member of the Weasley family, such as Fleur’s pregnancy with her and Bill’s first child, or Percy’s upcoming wedding. You updated them on your own life as well, and it wasn’t long until they had pushed a glass of Firewhiskey into your hands.

“So, Y/N,” Fred said, leaning against the back of the couch. You immediately recognized the glint of mischief in his brown eyes, and braced yourself for whatever ridiculous question he was about to pose.

“Which of us do you think is the better looking twin?”

You opened your mouth, intending to say something like ‘neither of you’ or ‘you’re identical—what kind of stupid question is that?’ but the sentence that spilled from your lips instead was, “Well, you look pretty much the same, so I’d say you guys are equally attractive. I think the scar makes you look pretty hot, Fred, but George can really pull off the whole missing ear thing.”

You clapped a hand over your mouth, face burning.

The twins both erupted into giggles.

“Oh, you’re too kind!” George said. “I’m glad you find my lack of an ear sexy.”

“And my scar is flattered,” Fred added.

“What did you two do?” you asked, scowling.

“We might have stumbled upon a vial of Veritaserum…” George said, trying and failing to look guilty. “And put it in your drink. Just a drop, though! It’ll wear off soon.”

You wanted to insult them, yell at them, call them every insult and curse under the sun, but no words would leave your tongue. It was like the truth serum wouldn’t even let you pretend to be pissed off. Sure, this was an invasion of your privacy and totally sketchy, but you had known Fred and George for so long, you were sort of used to their antics by now. You should have been way angrier than you were, but it was just so typical of them, you couldn’t muster much more than annoyance.

What you did manage to say was, “Why?”

Both twins shrugged.

“For fun,” Fred said.

“And because we were curious about something,” George replied.

“About what?”

“About which of us you like better.”

You blinked at them. “Are you serious? We aren’t eleven anymore. Is it really a contest between you two to be the better twin?”

“Not really, no,” Fred said. “Even though we all know that it's me.”

George reached over you to playfully shove his brother’s shoulder. “It’s not about proving anything. We’re just curious. So, Y/N, who do you like better: me or Freddie?”

“I like you equally,” you said. “You are both hilarious, intelligent, and my best friends. I find it easier to connect with George on serious things, but Fred always knows the right thing to say when I need cheering up.”

Your face was flushing deeper, embarrassed at the cheesy, sentimental words that left your mouth. Fred and George had grown up in an incredibly loving, affectionate family and had never shied away from making their love known, but it was awkward to voice your own feelings out loud like that.

Both twins seemed rather touched, though

“Wow, I was expecting you to have to pick,” Fred said. “But that’s oddly sweet.”

You groaned. “Okay, okay, yes, I love you both, can we knock this off now?”

“No, we have more questions!”

“Such as…?”

“Would you fuck either of us?” George asked.

Fred was normally the more vulgar of the two, and the question coming from George’s lips instead took you even more off guard.

“Yes,” you said, unable to stop yourself. “Either of you. Or both of you.”

“At the same time?”

“Yes.”

Fred and George also showed their emotions differently. Fred was better at keeping his feelings to himself, but when he was flustered, his ears would turn pink. His ears had flushed slightly, and his eyes were wide as he licked his lips, clearly intrigued by your answer. George was also flushed, but the color went to his face, and he brushed his thumbs repeatedly over his thighs, a nervous tick he’d always had.

“Have you thought about this a lot?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Tell us how you’d want it.”

You couldn’t help but answer. “I would let you strip off my clothes, groping me. One of you is behind me, kissing my neck as you take off my shirt. The other is at my feet, pulling my pants down. Neither of you shut up the whole time, talking about me like I’m not even there. Commenting to each other about how pretty I am, how wet my pussy is for you. Whoever is between my legs starts to go down on me, while the other holds my body still so I can’t move away from how good it feels. I cum on your tongue, and the other wants a turn, too…”

The twins were both clearly aroused as you spoke.

“Do you want that? Now?” Fred asked, his voice low.

“Yes,” you breathed.

They waste no time switching their positions on the couch, George pulling your back against his chest while Fred positions himself between your legs, his hands eagerly moving to the waistband of your pants, tugging at it.

George took his time, hands sliding up your shirt, touching softly as he felt you up, his face nuzzling into the crook of your neck, lips teasing the skin there.

You couldn’t help but whine under their touches, loving every moment of it. You had truly dreamt of this for years, always too afraid to ruin the friendship. Sure, you had kissed both twins for dares back at school, but this was real and intimate and beautiful.

Fred made quick work of getting your bottom half undressed, and he kissed his ways along your thighs, cupping your ass with one hand, squeezing hard.

“So fuckin’ hot,” George breathed.

“I know, right?” Fred replied. “So good for us, too. Are we making your fantasy come true, love?”

You nodded, whimpering softly.

“So needy, too. You want to cum for us?”

You nodded again. “Yes, yes please.”

George chuckled, nipping at your ear as Fred’s mouth finally reached your pussy, his tongue licking tentatively at you before he found your clit, which he immediately focused his attention on.

Your noises only grew louder, more desperate.

“Already? You’re not very good at this whole build-up thing, Freddie,” George said.

“I think we’ve waited long enough for this,” Fred replied before returning to his task.

“You don’t want to be patient, do you, darling?” George asked, hugging you tightly from behind. “You’ve wanted this for so long, you just want to be good for us, take everything we’ve got?”

“Fuck yes,” you moan.

Fred was clearly just as eager as you are, apparently trying to make you cum as quickly as possible, like he was placing bets in his head.

“You like that, hm? Is he good at it? Making you feel good?” George said.

“Feels so fucking good.”

“Good. You gonna cum for him?”

“Yes, yes, I’m—”

It didn’t take long at all. Fred’s tongue was good for more than just witty comments, and your legs trembled as he sat up, lips shining with your slick and a smug smile on his face.

“I think this is the part where we switch jobs, Georgie.”

Your pussy was already so wet, so sensitive, you knew that George would be able to make you cum fast, too. It was almost embarrassing how easy you were, how turned on they made you.

The twins switched positions, and Fred wrapped his arms around your middle sweetly, dragging his fingers over your waist and making goosebumps spread over your abdomen, squirming in his grasp.

“Don’t try and get away, sweet thing,” Fred said. “Otherwise George won’t be able to have his turn. Just be good for us, okay? Be a good little slut.”

You whined, face hot as George’s lips found your inner thighs and kissed the skin there, slowly, teasingly. He was the more patient, more methodical of the two. He wasn’t going to go straight for your clit, he was going to keep you wanting. Maybe until you begged.

Fred began sucking a hickey into your throat, leaving you a moaning mess as the twins both worshiped your body like it was something sacred.

Finally, George’s tongue found your pussy, teasing your hole and folds before even bothering to touch your clit.

“Should he put his fingers inside you?” Fred asked.

You nodded fervently, thrusting your hips.

George complied immediately, sliding one finger inside which was quickly followed by a second, pumping slowly before curling into that special spot, which he had found surprisingly easily.

Your second orgasm came just as quickly as the first, your hands balling into fists and your toes curling. Once your body was able to relax, you looked up through teary eyes to see George licking your taste off of his fingers.

“Was that everything you dreamed?” Fred asked.

You opened your mouth, expecting the answer to roll off your tongue, but it didn’t. You realized that the potion had worn off, and smirked.

“It could have been better,” you said, thrilled with your ability to lie again.

Obviously, Fred and George had to remedy that immediately.

#fred weasley x reader #george weasley x reader #weasley twins x reader #fred weasley smut #george weasley smut #weasley twins smut #hp fic #ophelia's fics

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