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#enjoy my bastard son
book-of-legends · 8 months
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[Response to this reply from @ask-team-misfit]
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The Meowstic seemed to stare in confusion momentarily as he attempted to process all of the information Lief was saying. When he finally did, one thing stood out from the rest.
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"Um. I'm... not sure what you mean by that. I don't understand how spice tolerance is related… Is this some kind of new-age informal language?" Sirius seemed extremely confused at this.
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"I really don't get out that much, Is 'spicy' a common slang term Pokemon use now? ...Maybe I need to catch up with the outside world more..." It appears being stuck in his office constantly was starting to take a toll on his knowledge of current trends.
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"But to answer your questions... You're actually the, um. Third or fourth intruder? I've lost count already, it's all quite stressful I just got back from a job a few hours ago." He sighed before, thinking over Lief's other questions, they were good but a little hard to explain in one go.
"I'm sorry but I think you might be mistaken, we do not fabricate the U-gates. We can make parts to repair them, yes. But it's virtually impossible to make a deity U-gate. Every time a U-gate attempt has been made by us mortals, they're limited to in-universe travel only. The U-gates I specialize in fixing are made from god magic, they're a type of Hoopa ring. Mortal-made U-gates are under an entirely different subject." "Asking me to explain those is like trying to ask someone who raises Magikarp to tell you how to take care of a Feebas. They're both fish but they have completely different needs."
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"Shutting down a gate is... a complicated subject. I could go into the process of how a gate is 'closed off' but I fear we may be here for a while if I do. I will try my best to sum it up, however." "If we're discontinuing the use of a U-gate we're required to assess why, report back to Earendel and if we're able to, contact the Keeper to discuss the matter further. A common reason U-gates are discontinued is because they're located in either feral universes, extremely dangerous ones or the U-gate is just completely broken." "At that point, it's a matter of removing the core safely, dismantling it and bringing it to Lunala for disposal. After that, we ban or remove the universe from our star maps."
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"And yes, we can control the gates. That is what the Keepers are for, they help everyday travellers operate the U-gates and be sent on their merry way to whatever universe they'd like." "We keep star maps updated so Keepers can do their jobs. I hope that satisfied your curiosity!" He gave a smile before nodding. "If you have any more questions I'm happy to get into it further."
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isilwhore · 1 year
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Evolution of feelings toward a certain group of seven dysfunctional oath-bound elves:
Wow these guys are assholes…
Bunch of jerks…
Some of them aren’t as bad as others…
I kind of feel terrible for them at times…
I don’t condone their actions, but let me explain this behavior…
They’re traumatized and under threat of eternal damnation…
I can fix them…
Babies 🥺…
This is my life now, it is what it is
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lore we have decided on for oberyn martell with @joel-mlller @thesadvampire
his only son is absolutely pathetic when it comes to physical activities. cannot throw a ball without tripping over his own two feet. Has been this way since he was a child and will be as an adult. becomes competent through years and years of training but even grown up he’ll still trip walking up stairs and thwack his head on doors. As a baby you might as well either never set him down or put that baby in armor cause that mfer is falling all over
1. is he yours? no. you (oberyns wife) never wanted to sire children and never will. but when he brings the babe home his little infant brain looks at you and goes ‘ah. that is mother’ and will outright refuse to be told otherwise. Will shriek and cry all goddamn night long until you come in and bounce him in your arms and he will finally settle. Always doing the uppy hands for you and mumbling “muh???muh???” to get your attention. Loves ellaria as second mother but YOU are prime mama despite your lack of maternal instincts you just sigh and go ‘well. i guess this is my baby now’ and are his mother. Oberyn thinks its hilarious but also seeing you motherly kinda makes his breeding kink go crazy. 
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micamicster · 2 years
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The bastard son and the devil himself more like road-trips of bisexuality
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tideiscomingin · 2 years
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Annalise, to Nathan: you look hot
Gabriel: *nods*
Nathan: like, temperature wise?
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chosok-amo · 27 days
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A BRAT IS ALL I WANT !
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TOJI FUSHIGURO has a breeding kink, and you’ll be damned if you give into it! but in reality, he just wants to start a family with you.
warning. husband! toji fushiguro, breeding kink, ōral ( m! receiving ), fingering, nipple-playing, dirty talk, pet names, name-calling.
wc. 4,5k | in this megumi wasn't born yet.
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sure, you loved being toji fushiguro's wife. however, he sure knows how to get your nerves screaming. your birth control switched out for ibuprofen, holes in condoms, fucking you raw in your sleep even!
“c’mon baby.. i want a brat…”
toji drawls, so sexy and arrogant. you absolutely fume, straddling his lap as he gives you that big, scarred, smile. he has a breeding kink, and you’ll be damned if you give into it!
“let me fuck you raw again, baby…”
you glare at him defiantly, hands on your hips as you straddle his lap. “absolutely not, toji! we've been over this. i'm not ready for a kid right now.”
he just grins up at you cockily, large hands gripping your waist. “aw c'mon babe, don't be like that. you know you love feeling my cum flood your tight little pussy.” is thumbs rub circles on your lower belly. “and i know you'll look so damn hot all round and glowing with my baby growing inside you."
you scowl and try to wriggle off his lap but he holds you firmly in place, erection pressing insistently against your ass. “unhand me, you brute!” you demand haughtily, “i won't be bred against my will!”
his eyes gleam with mischief and lust, hands tightening around your waist as he chuckles deeply. “oh, but darling... i think you're enjoying this way more than you let on,” he teases, nipping lightly at your earlobe.
his fingers trail down towards your thighs, deftly slipping under the hem of your skirt to tease along your inner thigh. “besides, who said anything about doing it against your will? i just wanna see those pretty tits swell up with milk and feel our son kicking inside ya...”
with a swift movement, he flips you onto your back on the couch before you can react, pinning you beneath his heavy frame. his breath is warm against your neck as he whispers huskily, “now why don't we make ourselves comfortable while we discuss this further?”
“you're such an infuriating man!” you huff indignantly, squirming underneath him despite yourself. “fine then, if i have to do this, you better make it worth my while!”
your hands reach up to claw at his chest, nails digging into the hard muscle there as you push against him. the firmness of his body pressed against yours sends shivers through your spine. “show me what else you can do besides getting me pregnant...”
he smirks down at you, clearly pleased with your response. “is that so?” he murmurs seductively, trailing kisses along your jawline until he reaches your lips.
his tongue slips past them in a dominant sweep that leaves no room for argument. one hand moves from your hip to cup one of your breasts over the fabric of your shirt, thumb rubbing over the hardened nipple through the material.
“you've got quite the mouth on you when you're angry,” he growls approvingly before pulling away slightly to admire his handiwork— the flush spreading across your cheeks and chest. “but don’t worry baby... i plan on showing you plenty tonight.”
your breath catches in your throat as he continues his assault on your senses. you arch up into his touch, nipples pebbling harder against the palm of his hand.
“arrogant bastard...” you gasp out between moans, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity despite the heat pooling between your legs.
but it’s futile— every brush of his skin against yours sets fire to your veins and makes your heart race faster. the sight of him looming above you like this, so powerful yet so gentle at times... it drives you wild.
“just remember this next time you decide to play doctor without consent,” you manage to say through gritted teeth before biting down on your lip hard enough to taste blood. he chuckles darkly at your words, but doesn't stop what he's doing. instead, his other hand slides down from your waist to grip your thigh tightly.
“oh, i'll remember alright,” he promises huskily before leaning down to capture another kiss from you.
his free hand slips beneath your shirt to find bare skin, tracing up along your ribcage until he reaches your breast once more. this time though, there's no barrier between them— only soft flesh meeting rough fingertips.
“feel good?” he asks teasingly as he rolls your nipple between two fingers causing sparks to shoot straight down to your core. the sensation of his touch on your bare skin sends shockwaves through you. a low whimper escapes from deep within your throat as he teases your sensitive nipple.
“too good,” you admit breathlessly, tilting your head back against the cushioned couch back. your hips instinctively buck upwards seeking friction against nothing but air. the need for something— anything— to fill that empty ache gnawing at you becomes almost unbearable.
“just because i say yes doesn't mean you get to take advantage of me,” you pant out weakly, trying desperately to keep hold of whatever shred of control left over. but with each stroke of his fingers over your heated flesh, it feels less like a warning and more like an invitation into pleasureland.
a wicked grin spreads across his face at your words. “take advantage? me?” he questions mockingly, though there's a glint of amusement in his eyes.
slowly, deliberately, he starts to slide downwards— kissing and licking a path along your collarbone before dipping lower still until he reaches the swell of your breasts. “i think we both know who's really in charge here,” he rumbles against your skin, hot breath ghosting over one hardened peak, “and it ain't you.”
without warning, he takes the sensitive bud into his mouth and sucks hard— tongue swirling around it torturously slow while his hand continues its ministrations on the other side.
a sharp cry tears itself from your lips as waves of pleasure crash over you. his mouth on your breast feels incredible; too much so for comfort. your fingers tangle into his hair, holding him close against you. despite everything you’ve been saying, it’s clear that you’re losing ground fast.
“don't stop...” you breathe out heavily, unable to deny him anymore.
even though part of you knows this isn't fair— that he's manipulating things to get exactly what he wants— another part relishes in being taken care of like this. and god help you, but it feels amazing.
“oh, fuck! just please...”
he hums in approval against your breast, the vibration sending jolts of electricity straight to your core. “that's it, sweetheart,” he coaxes, releasing your nipple with a wet pop before moving to lavish attention on its twin. “just let go and enjoy it. you know you love when i take charge.”
his hands roam your body possessively, palming your curves and squeezing roughly enough to leave marks. when he finally pulls back to gaze down at you, his expression is pure sin— dark eyes blazing with hunger and dominance.
“now, where were we?” he muses, voice dripping with promise as he starts to unbutton his shirt— revealing chiseled abs and a scattering of scars. “why don't you show me just how grateful you are for my attention?” he suggests, fingers already working to undo his belt buckle.
the sight of him undressing, even partially, sends a surge of arousal coursing through your veins. your breath hitches in anticipation as he leans closer again. “like this?” you ask, reaching out to trace a finger down his chest, feeling the ridges of muscles ripple beneath your touch.
your hand dips lower, brushing against the bulge straining against his pants. a smirk curls your lips at the feel of him throbbing beneath your fingertips. “or maybe like this?” you whisper suggestively, giving his hardness a firm squeeze through the fabric. his bulge feels heavy on your palm.
he lets out a low groan at your touch, hips jerking forward involuntarily as you fondle him through his pants. “that's it, baby,” he encourages, his own hands coming up to cup your breasts again, kneading them roughly. “get me nice and hard for you.”
with a swift motion, he frees himself from his trousers, allowing his thick cock to spring forth. it stands proud and erect, the tip glistening with pre-cum. “now why don't you put that clever mouth of yours to good use?” he commands, stroking himself slowly as he watches you with hungry eyes.
“lick it clean first, then take me deep inside that sweet little throat of yours. show me how much you want to be bred by me, my love.” the sight of his impressive erection makes your mouth water. with shaky hands, you reach out to wrap your fingers around his shaft. he's warm and solid in your grasp— a tangible proof of his arousal. you can't resist leaning in to lap at the precum beading at the tip, savoring the salty-sweet flavor.
leaning forward, you press a lingering kiss onto the head of his cock before taking it into your mouth. the salty-sweet flavor explodes on your tongue as you start to suck gently. “mmm, tastes good,” you murmur appreciatively before wrapping your lips around the head of his cock and sucking gently.
as you begin to bob your head, taking him deeper into your warm, wet mouth with each pass, you feel yourself getting lost in the sensation. his musky scent fills your nostrils, and the weight of him on your tongue is intoxicating.
you hollow your cheeks and suck harder, determined to please him. your hand comes up to fondle his heavy balls, rolling them in your palm as you work his shaft with increasing enthusiasm.
you bob your head back and forth, taking as much of him as possible into your warm cavernous space. each stroke sends tremors rippling through your body making it difficult to concentrate on anything else besides pleasing him right now.
a low, guttural moan escapes his lips as you take him deeper, the sound vibrating through you as you suck. his fingers tangle in your hair, guiding your movements.
“fucking hell, just like that,” he growls, thrusting shallowly into your mouth as you work him over, “such a good little cocksucker, aren't you?”
he rocks his hips in time with your bobbing head, fucking your face with increasing urgency. the sight of your lips stretched tight around his girth, the way your cheeks hollow with each suck, is almost too much to bear. “you're going to make me cum so hard down your throat if you keep this up,” he warns, voice strained with pleasure. “ready to swallow every drop like a good girl?” his pace quickens, driving himself deeper with each thrust.
your nose presses against his pubic bone as he hits the back of your throat, the pressure building with each thrust. tears prick at the corners of your eyes from the intensity, but you don't dare pull away.
“mmph!” you gag slightly as he bottoms out, but quickly recover, relaxing your throat to take him even deeper. the vibrations of your muffled moans add to the sensations as you continue to suck and lick at his shaft.
your free hand slides up his abdomen to tease his nipples, pinching and rolling them between your fingers as you service him. the dual stimulation of your mouth and hands pushes you closer to the edge, your own arousal building rapidly.
you look up at him through tear-filled eyes, watching his face contort in pleasure as you work him over. his hips buck wildly, driven by instinct alone as you manage to take him impossibly deep. the sight of those full lips wrapped tightly around his cock, trembling from effort and pleasure— it's all too much.
“oh fuck, right there...” he grunts out, eyes locked onto yours, “that's it, swallow every inch.”
with a final powerful thrust, he buries himself to the hilt in your throat. he holds there for a moment longer than necessary, letting you adjust before beginning to move again.
“gonna fill you up soon,” he whispers hoarsely, his control slipping as ecstasy floods through him. his strokes become erratic as he teeters on the brink of release.
“just... just a bit more, my l-love...”
the feeling of him pulsing against your tongue is exquisite, his impending climax evident in the way his cock throbs and twitches in your mouth. you double your efforts, sucking harder and faster as you sense his orgasm approaching.
your throat constricts around him rhythmically as you swallow, milking his shaft for all it's worth. drool escapes from the corners of your stretched lips, dripping down your chin and onto your heaving breasts.
you can feel your own arousal building to a fever pitch, your core clenching around nothing as you imagine him filling you up with his seed. the thought alone nearly pushes you over the edge. but you hold off, determined to make him come first. you want to taste his essence, to feel him pulse and twitch in your mouth as he finds his release.
with a guttural groan, he slams home one last time, holding you in place as his cock erupts in your mouth. thick ropes of hot cum coat your tongue, flooding your senses with the intense flavor of his release.
“fuuuckkk!” he bellows, eyes rolling back in bliss as he rides out his orgasm. his grip on your hair tightens, not painful but insistent, keeping you still as he empties himself into your eager mouth. wave after wave of his seed pulses across your taste buds, each spurt a testament to his pleasure. finally, with a shuddering gasp, he stills, his cock softening slightly within the confines of your lips.
“swallow it all, baby,” he orders, voice husky with satisfaction, “every last drop belongs to you now.”
you eagerly swallow every last drop of his cum, savoring the taste as it coats your tongue and slips down your throat. his seed is potent and rich, leaving an unmistakable warmth spreading throughout your belly.
reluctantly releasing him from your mouth, you sit back on your heels, panting heavily. your lips are swollen and bruised from their vigorous use, a satisfied smile curving them despite the discomfort.
you reach up to wipe away some of the drool trickling down your chin, smearing it over your cleavage instead. looking up at him through half-lidded eyes filled with lust and satisfaction, “did i do okay?”
he looks down at you, chest heaving with each breath as he fights to regain his composure. a satisfied smirk plays on his lips as he takes in the sight of you, flushed and disheveled.
“you always did, baby,” he replies, voice rough with residual pleasure, “best damn blowjob i've ever had.” he reaches out to run a finger along your jawline, tracing the path of a single tear that has managed to escape. his touch is surprisingly gentle given the intensity of what just transpired.
“but we're not done yet,“ he adds with a predatory gleam in his eye, “it's my turn to breed you now.” without waiting for further response, he pulls you towards him until you're straddling his lap once more. his cock is already starting to stir again, eager for another round. you wrap your arms around him, smiling so beautifully just like how you are, his sweet, sweet little wife.
feeling your arms encircle him, toji lets out a low chuckle, the sound rumbling through his chest. his hands roam over your body, taking delight in the softness of your skin beneath his calloused palms.
“i'm glad you're mine,” he murmurs into your ear, nipping gently at the lobe, “i plan on making you feel very well taken care of.” his hands slide lower, pulling your hips flush against his growing erection. the sensation makes him groan in anticipation.
“so let's get started, shall we?”
you giggle softly, leaning in to press your lips to his in a tender kiss. as you pull back, you whisper, “i love being yours, toji. show me how much.” emboldened by your words, you begin to grind against him, your slick heat coating his length through the fabric of your underwear. the friction sends sparks of pleasure coursing through you, stoking the flames of desire even higher.
he captures your lips again in a searing kiss, tongue delving deep to claim every inch of your mouth. when you break apart, panting, he grips your hips firmly and begins to rock you against him, the motion deliberate and slow.
“that's it, ride my cock,” he commands, voice thick with need, “let me feel that sweet pussy of yours rubbing against me.” his hands slide under your shirt, palming your breasts roughly as he continues to grind you against his hardness. the sensation is maddening, each pass sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.
“fuck, you're soaked,” he growls, breaking the kiss to trail biting kisses down your neck, “can't wait to bury myself inside you and fill you up.”
you moan loudly, the sensation of his hard cock pressing against your clit driving you wild. you arch your back, pushing your breasts further into his grasp as he tweaks and rolls your sensitive nipples. you can hardly stand it anymore; the need to have him inside you is overwhelming. you start to move faster against him, desperate for more contact.
“oh god, toji,” you whimper, looking into his eyes, “please, i need you... need you to fuck me.”
hearing your plea, toji's restraint snaps. with a swift movement, he stands up, carrying you effortlessly in his arms. he strides towards the bed, laying you down upon it with surprising gentleness considering the urgency of his actions.
“you'll get exactly what you ask for,” he promises, yanking down your panties with a rough tug. his gaze falls upon your glistening folds, wet and ready for him.
positioning himself between your thighs, he lines up his throbbing member at your entrance. without another word, he plunges deep inside you, stretching and filling you completely. “fucking perfect,” he grunts out, beginning to set a punishing pace. each thrust drives him deeper, hitting spots within you that make stars burst behind your eyelids.
a loud cry tears itself from your throat as he fills you entirely, stretching your walls deliciously. the sensation is overwhelming, causing your entire body to shake.
“oh, t-toji, baby..” you plead desperately, wrapping your legs around his waist to draw him even deeper if possible. every stroke hits just right, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. your fingers dig into his shoulders, nails scratching lightly over his skin as you cling to him for support. you can't help but buck up to meet each of his powerful thrusts, desperate to take everything he offers.
he growls in approval, loving the way you claw at him as he pounds into your willing body. the sound of your cries and the sight of your breasts bouncing with each forceful thrust only spur him on.
“look at me,” he demands, his voice thick with lust, “want to see those pretty eyes when i breed you.” his hands grip your hips tightly, anchoring you to him while he drives into you mercilessly. the slap of flesh echoes around the room, punctuating the symphony of moans and groans.
as he watches your face contort with pleasure, toji leans down to capture a nipple between his teeth, nibbling harshly before soothing it with a flick of his tongue. you obey instantly, meeting his gaze with wide, lust-filled eyes. the combination of his commanding presence and the raw pleasure he's giving you leaves you breathless.
“oh fuck, toji...” your voice trails off into a series of broken whimpers as he teases your nipple. the dual sensations of his cock pounding into you and his teeth grazing your sensitive bud send shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through your veins.
your inner walls clench around him involuntarily, trying to milk him for all he's worth. but it's clear that you're far from finished; there's still so much more you want from this dominant man.
feeling your walls flutter around him, toji can't hold back a satisfied grunt. he releases your breast with a pop, watching as a bead of blood appears where he'd been sucking. “good girl,” he praises, slapping your thigh lightly for emphasis, “keep coming for me.”
with renewed vigor, he starts slamming into you harder than before. each thrust goes deeper than the last, aimed directly at that spot inside you that makes stars dance across your vision. the bed creaks under their combined weight as he picks up speed, driven by pure instinct and carnal desire.
the sharp sting of pain from his bite quickly gives way to intense pleasure as he pounds into you relentlessly. your body bows off the mattress with each brutal thrust, helpless to resist the onslaught of sensation.
“o-oh god, oh god!“ you whimpering, your voice hoarse from crying out in ecstasy. your mind blanks, consumed solely by the primal urge to be filled, claimed, bred. you lock your ankles behind his back, using every ounce of strength to pull him impossibly deeper. your hips rise to meet his, creating a frenzied rhythm that threatens to shatter you completely.
the feeling of you wrapping yourself around him, urging him on, pushes roji closer to the edge. he feels your body tensing beneath him, signaling that you’re nearing your climax. “that's it,” he encourages through gritted teeth, “come for me, show me how much you love being fucked by your husband.”
his thrusts become erratic as he chases his own release. the thought of filling you with his seed fuels his arousal further. “going to breed you so good,” he vows before capturing your lips once more in a bruising kiss. the intensity of his words coupled with the relentless pace of his thrusts sends you spiraling into oblivion. a scream rips from your throat as your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave.
“i'm cumming!“ you cry out, your body convulsing around his cock as waves of pleasure rip through you. your juices coat his shaft, slickening the path for him to find his own release. your inner muscles clench and unclench rhythmically, milking him for all he’s worth. you can barely form coherent thoughts; all that remains is raw, animalistic pleasure.
feeling your pussy spasm around him triggers toji's own climax. with a guttural roar, he buries himself to the hilt and unleashes a torrent of hot semen deep inside you. “take it all, my wife,” he growls, his hips jerking erratically as he pumps you full of his essence. the sensation of his cum flooding your womb sends shivers down his spine.”
as the final pulses of his orgasm subside, toji collapses onto you, his heavy chest heaving against your own. he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, marking you with gentle bites and whispers of praise. panting heavily, you bask in the afterglow of your intense coupling. feeling toji's warm seed fill you to the brim brings a sense of satisfaction and completion.
“handsome,” you murmur contentedly, running your fingers through his sweat-dampened hair. embracing the intimacy of the moment, you wrap your arms around him, holding him close as he recovers. your bodies remain joined, the evidence of his claim still dripping from your entwined forms.
toji hums in pleasure at your touch, nuzzling deeper into your embrace. he presses a soft kiss to your pulse point, savoring the taste of your skin.
“mmm, you're beautiful too, the most beautiful,” he murmurs, slowly rolling you to your sides. even in this position, he remains buried inside you, his softening cock still nestled in your warmth. gently, he begins to rock against you, stirring the mix of his cum and your juices within your shared depths. he action sends pleasant tingles through both of you, prolonging the intimate connection.
“this was perfect,” he says, his voice low and satisfied, “just what we both needed.”
your body responds eagerly to his movements, each subtle shift reigniting the embers of pleasure within you. you let out a blissful sigh, enjoying the lazy rhythm you've fallen into. “it was...more than perfect,” you agree, a smile curving your lips despite the exhaustion settling in. the tender affection mixed with the lingering heat of your lovemaking leaves you feeling cherished and utterly fulfilled.
as the minutes stretch on, you find yourself reluctant to break away from this sweet, languid closeness. it's moments like these that make you realize just how deeply you adore your husband— in every way imaginable.
toji gazes at you adoringly, taking in the blissful expression on your face. he reaches up to brush a stray lock of hair from your forehead, his touch feather-light and reverent.
“i love seeing you like this,” he confesses softly, “satisfied and happy in my arms.” he pauses, his expression turning thoughtful. “i think it's time we started planning our family, don't you? we could have a few more little ones running around, keeping us busy and on our toes.”
the suggestion is made with a playful glint in his eye, but there's an underlying seriousness to his words. toji wants to build a life filled with love, passion, and children— and he intends to start that process soon. at the mention of starting a family, your heart swells with joy. the idea of carrying another child conceived in such passionate, loving circumstances fills you with excitement.
“you know i've always wanted that,” you reply, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to his lips, “a house full of laughter and love...and maybe some mischief too, maybe later,”
the prospect of growing their family together stirs something deep within you. not just physical attraction, but emotional commitment— a bond forged not only between lovers but also parents-to-be. “but for now,” you continue, tracing idle patterns on his chest, “let's just enjoy this moment. our private paradise.”
hearing your agreement, toji smirks, his eyes sparkling with delight. he captures your wandering hand and brings it to his lips for a kiss.
“a private paradise sounds ideal,” he agrees, nipping gently at your fingertips, “but i suppose we should get moving eventually.” despite his words, there's no urgency in his tone. Instead, he seems content to simply stay here with you— lost in each other's company until reality comes knocking.
“but first,” he adds, pulling you closer until your breasts press against his chest, “i need to make sure you're thoroughly satisfied.”
a soft chuckle escapes your lips at his declaration. the idea of being thoroughly satisfied by your husband is quite appealing indeed. “oh, i think i am,” you purr, rubbing your thighs together to alleviate the residual ache left by their earlier activities, “but if you insist...“
you arch your back slightly, pressing even harder against him. the sensation of his semi-hard member still nestled inside you sends delightful sparks of pleasure coursing through your veins. “just one more round?” you tease, batting your eyelashes playfully.
toji's smirk widens at your teasing words, his dark eyes gleaming with lustful intent. he rolls you onto your back, positioning himself above you with a predatory grace.
“one more round it is then,” he declares, beginning to move again, leaning closer to kiss your forehead. his renewed thrusts are slow and deliberate, designed to draw out every last drop of pleasure from both of you.
each stroke sends jolts of pleasure radiating throughout your body. the combination of his weight pressing down on you and the steady rhythm of his hips driving into yours creates an intoxicating blend of sensations.
“and when we're done,” he promises huskily, “we'll start planning our future...together.”
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winterarmyy · 2 months
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Against All Odds | Part I
An arranged marriage with the duke's illegitimate son!bucky.
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Summary: In a medieval kingdom where magic and political intrigue are woven into the fabric of society, Y/N, the youngest daughter of a noble Earl family, finds herself in an arranged marriage to James Buchanan Barnes, the illegitimate son of the Duke. Known as the Winter Soldier, Bucky's reputation as a monster in war had instilled anxiety into Y/N's heart. But that fear quickly begins to crumble when she discovers that her husband is not the brutal figure society depicts him to be.
Navigation: Part I | Part II | Part III (end)
Words: 8.1k++
Pairing: duke's illegitimate son!bucky x noble!female!reader
Warnings: fantasy/medieval au, i did not write this with much knowledge of fantasy nor medieval lore. I write it solely for plot and the couple dynamic lmao. if you're expecting full blown fantasy novel; this ain't it, man. anyways, 18+ contents, no minors allowed, nsfw, cunnilingus, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, loss of virginity, praise kink, breeding kink (if you squint), marking kink (i think), soft fluffy smut, a wee bit of dirty talk. soft!reader and even softer!bucky. (idk what else, so tell me if there's something i miss.)
P/S: This is the fic for an idea I had earlier this year. The first chapter will only cover the original post but what happens next is something you will need to look forward on the upcoming chapters. Enjoy your read!
Read my other works here: Masterlist
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Y/N stood in front of the grand mirror in her chamber, her reflection staring back at her with wide, fearful eyes. The delicate lace of her wedding dress was the opposite of the twisting anxiety in her stomach. Today, she was to marry James Buchanan Barnes, the illegitimate son of the Duke of the kingdom, a man labelled to be more beast than human.
He was known as the Winter Soldier, a title whispered with both fear and awe. Tales of his gruesome feats in battle, his merciless brutality, and his cold, metal arm was deemed as a horror story for the children in the kingdom. People spoke of him as a monstrous weapon, a beast moulded by the Emperor to do his bidding without question or hesitation. 
Y/N had heard the stories many times before; and it has always been a hushed conversation that floats around whether a ballroom of a gala, or at the tables of the garden parties, sometimes even in between the racks of books in the library.
They always painted a picture of a man who lived only for war, devoid of humanity.
She couldn't help but let these tales feed her imagination. What kind of man was he truly? Did he revel in the violence, or was he a prisoner to his fate? Y/N shuddered at the thought, her heart heavy with fear and uncertainty.
Her father, the Earl, had made it clear why she needed to marry him. It was a political manoeuvre, a strategic alliance to strengthen their family's position. The duke, Bucky's father, wielded considerable power, and their union would bring the Earl closer to the heart of the kingdom's influence. 
And when he heard that the duke was looking for a wife for his bastard son, he knew that she would be perfect. That was when Y/N, the youngest daughter, became the pawn in this game. Her father's ambitions certainly outweighed any consideration for her feelings or desires.
Y/N had always longed for a marriage of love, a dream she clung to despite her circumstances. She was a hopeless romantic through and through; much like her late mother. She remembered the nights when her mother would read to her and her siblings, spinning tales of prince charming and valiant heroes.
The fire crackled warmly in the hearth as her mother’s soothing voice filled the room. Y/N and her siblings, her older brother Eric and sister Clara, lay tucked under blankets, their eyes wide with wonder.
"And then the prince, with a heart full of love, swept the princess into his arms, vowing to protect her forever," her mother read, her voice a melodic whisper.
Y/N, her eyes sparkling with innocence, declared, "When I grow up, I want to marry a prince charming too!"
Clara, ever the practical one, nodded in agreement. "Me too! He has to be brave and kind."
Eric, being a little boy, scrunched his nose in distaste. "I don’t want to get married. I want to be a knight!"
Their mother chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair from Y/N’s forehead. "It does not matter if he is a prince charming or a humble knight. As long as you marry the one you love, that is what truly matters."
Y/N's heart ached at the memory. How she wished her mother were still here to guide her through this terrifying day. The gentle knock on the door brought her back to the present.
"Lady Y/N, it’s time," one of the maids said softly.
Y/N took a long and deep breath, smoothing down the fabric of her dress. She followed the maid down the corridor, her mind a swirl of emotions. Reaching the grand doors of the church, her father waited for her.
"Remember, Y/N," he said, his voice stern. "Do not mess this up. Just endure it. And you'll be fine. This is the most useful you can be to our family."
Her heart sank further; yet she nodded obediently.
Compared to Y/N, her elder brother, a celebrated swordsman, and her sister, a master in the art of business, had always outshone her in their father's eyes. Y/N's talent with languages; ancient and modern – was seen as a useless skill, something that brought no tangible benefit to the family. 
Her father had never been cruel when she was younger but everything changed when her mother died. In fact, everyone in the family had lost a piece of their soul when she left. Now, his lack of affection only increases the number of scars on her heart.
The doors opened, revealing the crowds of high-ranking nobles; who were mostly strangers – staring at her. Some were judging her; some pitied her. She reminded herself that she was doing this for her family, for the greater good. But the little girl inside her who dreamed of prince charming certainly felt a pang of sorrow.
As she walked down the aisle, her legs trembled, and her hands shook so violently that she had to clasp them together to steady herself. From afar, she saw the silhouette of the man she was destined to marry. His tall and huge figure stood out compared to anyone in the hall. As she got closer, she kept her gaze fixed on the floor, too afraid to look up at her husband-to-be.
When she finally reached the altar, the priest began the ceremony. His speech was long and dragging, giving Y/N too much time to entertain her growing curiosity that she dared to glance up at the man next to her. Even from behind the veil, she could see his towering and broad-shouldered build, his presence commanding the room. His long hair was slightly untamed, and a scruffy beard framed his face. His metal hand, glinting in the sun that leaked through the church’s windows, was a jarring reminder of the rumors that surrounded him.
There were no heartfelt vows to recite to each other; only their promise of "I do" was exchanged. And that was the first time Y/N heard his voice. It was deep and resonant, sending a shiver down her spine; but there was a certain warmth in it that contrasted sharply with his fearsome reputation.
When the priest announced their union and Bucky lifted her veil, Y/N was struck by the unexpected gentleness in his eyes. They were a brilliant, mesmerizing blue, and for a moment, she forgot to breathe. Bucky's eyes softened as he looked at her, his gaze tender and almost reverent. Slowly, he placed one hand gently around her waist, pulling her slightly closer. His other hand came up to cup her cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle against her skin.
Y/N's heart pounded in her chest as he leaned in, her breath catching in her throat. When his lips met hers, they were soft, warm, and so unexpected. She could smell his cologne; an earthy, woodsy scent mixed with a hint of something fruity; like peaches or tangerines. It made her head spin and her heart jumped all at the same time. 
The kiss was gentle and unhurried, very much differs to the forceful gesture she had feared. As he pulled away, Y/N found herself blinking slowly, her cheeks flushed and her fear momentarily replaced by confusion and a surprising awe. She was caught off guard by the tenderness of his touch, the way his lips had brushed against hers so gently.
Could the rumors about him be wrong?
"I’m sorry if I startled you," he said, his voice low and gentle. "I hope I didn’t scare you, my dear."
Y/N blinked slowly, trying to process the sudden shift in her emotions. The fear that had gripped her so tightly seemed to dissipate, replaced by a confusing mix of relief and intrigue. Her hands, which had been trembling, now rested at her sides, feeling strangely steady. Her eyes met his, and she could see softness in his gaze that contradicted the harsh rumors she had heard.
“I—no, you didn’t scare me,” she managed to say; her voice barely more than a whisper. She took a deep breath, her cheeks getting warmer as she processed the endearment he just called her. On the other hand, her mind was racing as she tried to reconcile the man in front of her with the fearsome figure of the Winter Soldier.
Bucky’s eyes mellowed even further, his gaze glazed with a tenderness that seemed to pierce through the weight of the room. A warm smile spread across his face, and he held her gaze with a comforting assurance.
“Good,” he said, his voice carrying a gentle affection. “I’m glad to hear that.”
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The reception that followed was a blur of faces and polite conversation. Y/N moved through the crowd, accepting congratulations and well-wishes, but her mind was elsewhere. She couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to Bucky than the rumors suggested. Every time she caught his eye, he gave her a small, reassuring smile that made the butterflies inside of her go wild.
As the evening drew to a close, they were escorted to one of the Emperor’s palaces, a grand and opulent residence that was to serve as their temporary home before they traveled north to Bucky’s territory. The palace, with its lavish furnishings and golden accents, seemed to mock the uncertainty Y/N felt. She had been assigned a chamber to prepare for the night, and the palace maids were bustling around her, helping her into a set of elaborate, far-from-modest lingerie.
The palace’s maids’ whispers and side glances did nothing to ease her growing anxiety. Their condescending tones and occasional snickers were laced with cruel speculation about how roughly Bucky would treat her. The more Y/N overheard, the more her apprehension grew. Despite the gentleness Bucky had shown her earlier, she found herself doubting its sincerity.
Could he really be the caring husband he appeared to be, or was it all just an elaborate show?
The maids finally left, their laughter fading down the hallway, leaving Y/N alone in the grand chamber. Her heart raced, and cold sweat formed at her brow as she sat quietly on the edge of the ornate bed. She kept her gaze firmly on the floor, her hands fidgeting in her lap. The room felt enormous, its sheer size heightening her sense of isolation and dread.
The door creaked open, and Bucky entered the room. Y/N’s heart nearly stopped as she heard the heavy, measured footsteps approaching. She couldn’t bring herself to look up, her body tense and her mind a swirl of panic and unease. She almost held her breath entire when she felt the slight indentation of the mattress beside her.
“Y/N,” Bucky’s voice was soft and coaxing, a distinct difference to the coldness she was expecting. “Look at me.” He continued. She hesitated momentarily; torn between obeying and disobeying but ultimately decided to raise her eyes to meet his.
The sight of him; his upper body bare, revealing a tapestry of scars and the stark metal of his prosthetic arm; made her breath hitch. Her eyes traced the lines of his faded wound, particularly the jagged marks where his shoulder met his metal arm. She couldn’t help but feel a pang of sorrow and concern. Her fingers, almost of their own accord, reached out to trace the contours of his chest and shoulder.
Bucky let the innocence of her touch to trace the most tainted parts of him; however noting her trembling eyes, he misunderstood her apprehension. “I want you to know, Y/N,” he said, his voice firm yet gentle, “that I will never hurt you. You are safe with me.”
Y/N shook her head, her heart aching. She felt an unexplainable pain growing in her chest as she gazed at him. Her fingers still lightly touching his scars; her eyes, full of unshed tears, silently asked a question she was too afraid to voice. “Does it still hurt?” she wanted to ask, her expression betraying her concern.
Bucky’s eyes sparkled with affection, and he took her hand in his, holding it tenderly against his chest. “Don't worry. It does not hurt anymore,” he said with a reassuring smile. 
The connection between them was electric, charged with a deep, unspoken understanding. Bucky’s gaze was steady and filled with a depth of unspoken emotion that took Y/N’s breath away. “I know this is difficult for you, Y/N,” he said, his voice laden with sincerity. “But I promise, I will do everything in my power to make you happy.”
His words and the way he looked at her left Y/N feeling both comforted and overwhelmed. For the first time since their wedding, she felt a genuine, flickering hope that maybe, just maybe, their marriage could become something more than a mere political arrangement. Bucky’s assurances, his gentleness, and the tenderness in his eyes began to dissolve the fears she had harboured since the beginning of their union.
As they sat there, the weight of the night’s expectations seemed to lift, replaced by a fragile but growing trust. Y/N had entered this marriage with a sense of duty, convinced that she would have to endure the consummation of their union as a matter of obligation. But Bucky’s tenderness, his understanding, and the sincere reassurance he had given her began to change her perspective.
The idea of fulfilling her marital duty had initially felt like a burden she had to bear. She had steeled herself to face it with resignation, convinced that it was merely another part of her role in this arranged marriage. But now, she found herself reconsidering. The idea of being with him no longer felt like an obligation but a possibility of something more profound and intimate.
Y/N hands softly toyed with the delicate strings of her sheer lingerie, pulling it softly as her doe eyes signalled her husband of her intention. Bucky, sensing the shift in her demeanor, looked into her eyes with a mixture of concern and affection. “Are you sure, my dear?” he asked softly. “I want you to feel safe with me and not afraid of me.”
Y/N’s heart fluttered as she met his gaze, her own eyes reflecting the depth of her emotions. “I am,” she said with quiet conviction. “I feel safe with you, James”
Bucky's hand naturally went to brush her hair behind her ear, “It’s Bucky, my dear,” he corrected softly.
“Hmm?” she asked, slightly puzzled.
He chuckled warmly. “You can call me Bucky from now on. It’s a nickname only a selected few who I trust and love knows.” Her eyes sparkled at his choice words; trust and love.
“Bucky…” she tested the name on her tongue, the syllables feeling strangely intimate. Upon hearing his name from her lips, Bucky’s heart swelled, almost bursting from his ribcage. He hummed in approval, “That's right, my dear. I’m your Bucky.” 
His reassuring smile grew wider, his calloused thumb gently stroke her cheek causing a shiver to strum all over her nerves; sending an emerging desire. One she had not fully acknowledged until now. The way he looked at her, the pure and raw endearment in his eyes, and the softness of his touch stirred something deep within her.
As the moments passed, Y/N realised she wanted this. She wanted to feel his lips on hers, to explore the warmth of his hands, to connect with him on a level she had longed for. The yearning for his touch, which had been dormant under layers of fear and uncertainty, now surged forward with undeniable intensity.
Without fully understanding why, Y/N found herself leaning closer to him, her breath coming in soft, eager gasps. She whispered, her voice barely audible but full of longing, “Bucky, please.”
Bucky’s expression softened, and a tender light filled his blue eyes, “May I?” he asked, his voice low and gentle as he held out his hand. There a shy hesitation before she finally placed her hand in his.
With a gentle but firm pull, Bucky lifted her onto his lap, his careful hands beginning the process of undressing her. Each movement was full of care, yet almost deliberate, as he slowly removed her dress, leaving her in nothing but the flimsy lace piece covering the sacred area between her thighs.
Bucky's eyes roamed over her bare skin, admiration clear in his gaze. Y/N could feel the heat of his gaze, the way his eyes traced every curve and contour of her body. The intensity of it made her feel both vulnerable and cherished, a potent combination that sent pleasurable shivers all over her body.
Seeing the hunger in his blue eyes, she felt the warmth of his body and caught the scent of him; the same once she noticed at the church; warm and comforting. Her breath quickened, and she found herself unsure of what to do or where to place her hands, feeling like a deer caught in headlights.
Noticing the subtle panic, Bucky reached for her hands and guided them through the thick strands of his long hair. “You can touch me as you please, my dear,” he whispered, his voice soothing as he reassured her. He leaned in to kiss her bare shoulder, then moved up to her neck, along her jaw, leaving a trail of warmth on her skin.
Y/N’s fingers tangled in his hair, the softness surprising her. The intimacy of the moment, combined with his gentle kisses, began to dissolve the last remnants of her anxiety. The feel of his lips on her skin was electrifying, each kiss sending waves of sensation she never felt before.
Bucky’s hands, still careful and tender, caressed her back, drawing her closer to him. Her breath hitched as he kissed the valley of her breasts; soft gasps escaping her lips as Bucky begins to lick and sucked on her delicate skin; likely trying to mark his claim on her. 
Every touch and little kisses he left sent shivers straight to her already dripping core. And by the time his lips grazed her nipple, her body jerked forward; in response, unintentionally dragging her aching pussy against his thick thigh.
His lips latched around her right nipples as he licks and sucks the hardening skin; lapping at it as if he was feeding from her. The sensation was overwhelming, yet she found herself leaning into his touch, her body responding to his gentle ministrations. The grip on his hair grew tighter as the strings of moans poured out her lips.
Bucky’s large hands find their place on her hips, guiding her to gently rut on his thigh. Trusting him, she followed his lead as he continue to grind her clit through the thin fabric she was wearing; introducing the sweet friction in on her core. Bucky pulled back slightly to look into her eyes, his expression filled with a mixture of subtle affection and desire. “You’re doing wonderfully, my dear. Can feel your pussy leaking on me. Do you feel good?” he murmured as he dipped back to kiss her neck.
Oh, he was filthy with his choice of words but surprisingly she was not mad about it. In fact she didn’t even notice the whimpers purring in her throat upon hearing those sinful words.
It was as if Bucky recognized that needy sound she made; it caused a smile to spread on his lips. She can feel it grow against the skin in between her breasts, “My my, is my sweet wife feeling needy right now?” he teased playfully as he effortlessly lifted her up and laid her down on their bed. 
Placing himself in between her soft thighs, his lustful gaze trained on her naked body; he admired the marks he has left on her breasts, the wet patch on the flimsy fabric covering her cunt, and the way her breath shuddered when he teasingly grind his harden cock against her.
Y/N can feel the contrast of his hands on her thigh, one warm, one cold. Her eyes drew her attention from his hands to his gorgeous face. Oh, the pure unfiltered lust in his eyes was pulling her in so effortlessly; seducing her to submit her body and soul to him completely. Shying away from his stare, she dragged her view down to his chiselled jaw, his broad chest then slowly to his beautiful abs. 
She admired his body as much as he did of hers.
But what was more prominent out of all, was the way she could feel his erection throbbing against her heat. Blood went rushing towards her face when Bucky guided her hips against the confinement of his cock, which in response; causing her hands naturally found their way to cover her face in embarrassment.
A deep chuckle bubbled from Bucky’s throat; he found her reaction to be absolutely endearing. He leaned down towards her, one hand holding himself up and another tenderly pulling her hands away, then drawing it close to his chest, right against his beating heart. 
Having nowhere to run, Y/N’s teary eyes drowned in his ocean blues, “Don’t hide from me, dearest.” He peppered a delicate kiss on her forehead, then on her nose, then on her cheek. She could feel the prickly sensation of his beard grazing on her skin. It was ticklish and a little bit painful and yet weirdly enough, it felt good that it naturally made her want to nuzzle it more.
But before she could, Bucky’s lips were already making their way down to her stomach. Her body responds to how soft his lips trailing down; and further down until she could feel them on her clothed core. A surprised yelp fell from her lips as he tore the last piece of clothing from her.
“Now, hands away from your face, my dear. I want to see that beautiful eyes of yours when I eat your sweet pussy.” his voice was honeyed when he made himself comfortable in between her thighs. His hands reached upwards to intertwine both of her hands with his own; acting as a restraint to restrict her from covering her face.
Y/N almost sat up upon hearing his words, “Eat what now?”, the question she had in mind was unable to be vocalised; due to her confusion. Prior to marriage, she had learned about sex and its purpose in her marital studies. Unbeknownst to her, the knowledge she had was few and limited for academic purposes only. Which means there were only the few illustrations of penetration depicted in books and the process of how children are bred as a result of it.
So what does he mean when he said those words? While she was still lost and confused, Bucky on the other hand was in his own world; completely and utterly transfixed on the glistening need of her cunt. She was dripping wet; the juices covering her slits perfectly; her scent was intoxicating and if it weren’t for the fact that this is her first time, Bucky would’ve ate her like a man starved of touch. But, he can’t do that. Not tonight. He wanted to be gentle; to cherish her, to love on her.
Seeing the darkened clouds in his eyes as he stared at her private, Y/N braved herself to ask, “What are you– ohh hmmm” her sentence ended up transforming into a toe curling moan as she felt Bucky’s wet tongue flattened across her weeping core. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as he dragged her clit into his mouth and sucked. He strummed her clit with his tongue, causing her to arch her back and he took the opportunity to push his face further into her cunt; licking and sucking quite the literal soul out her.
It felt amazing but her self-consciousness won the battle in her head, she let out a whimpering plea, “Buc--bucky st-stop. That’s dirty.” as she gripped on his hands, trying to escape from his grip. Bucky growled against her in response to her futile protest. The sweet vibration only caused her pleasure all over her fluttering core. 
When Bucky pulled away for a moment; it caused her to feel a sense of loss. “It’s not dirty, my dear. In fact, it’s so sweet.” His lips moved to kiss on her inner thigh, murmuring against her skin as he left yet more of his marks on her, “So fucking sweet.” He releases his right hand from hers, just to rub his thumb on her clit, slowly dragging it in between her slit; smearing her wetness all around her throbbing bundle of nerves. Her thighs trembled to the sensation of his rough movement of his thumb and a string of shaky mewls fell out of her.
“But..” she tried to protest but immediately stopped when Bucky brought his soaked thumb to her mouth. Her lips were wet from how he gently smeared the juices on her, “Taste yourself.” He lured her softly. Hesitation glints in her eyes as her cheeks redden. Bucky’s eyes grew tender at her watery ones, he whispered lowly, “Sweetheart, do you trust me?” 
She does; but she does not trust her own voice to not come out sounding like a needy moan, so she simply nodded. Bucky’s pink lips spread into a smile, “Good girl. Now, open up.” he coaxed lovingly.
Y/N opened her mouth as she was told and let Bucky slip his thumb inside; he was not shy to smother her juices across her tongue, coaxing her to suck on it. To get a taste of what he was having. “It’s sweet”, she thought to herself. A muffled moan purred in her throat at the thought of her husband enjoying the taste of her.
Bucky smirk grew at her reaction, “Tastes good huh, sweetheart?” he pulled his thumb away, leaving her nodding to his question. “Now are you going to let me enjoy your pussy?” his brow quirked when he tilted his head to the side. How can she deny him now? Her eyes glazed with need as she replied,  “Yes, please”.
Her mouth falls open in anticipation as a low moan creeps up her throat. Bucky’s tongue slips past her folds, she watched him between her legs, savouring her pussy with his unfiltered groans vibrating against her sensitive spot. Breathless moans and incoherent pleads fall from her mouth as the soft and firm tip of his tongue circled her swollen pearl and flicked it. Bucky’s hands went to her hips, guiding it in time with her own movements, giving her partial control to set the pace.
“Buckyyyy.” She gasped as she alternated between wanting to push his head away or keep him in place. Meanwhile, the man in between her thighs had lost himself; consumed by pure desire the more he drank from her cunt. His tongue moved faster against her clit when he noticed the beat of her throbbing cunt increased. She was going to come. He was sure of it.
The way that she was practically creaming on his tongue drove him near feral. He kept lapping at her juices as if it was the sweetest honey he ever tasted; fuck he even sucked her clit in hopes to force out more of her nectar to leak; then he’d lap on it again. 
The sweet cycle had pushed Y/N over the edge, her eyes rolling back as pleasure and her hips slightly lifted as pleasure surges through her veins.“Oh oh Bucky please please.” She didn’t what she was begging for as she chanted his name. “I’m gonna, ‘m gonna–“ her words died as she squealed; her body trembling in pleasure. 
His tongue moved faster against her clit; her cum was dripping out of her; coating his beard but his frantic licks didn’t stop even when she continue to gush on his tongue. 
“Bucky please, sensitive..” It was too much; her orgasm, her swollen clit, his tongue. Everything. 
Unfortunately for her, Bucky was far gone to stop now. He had the taste of her cum, now he wants nothing more than to have it again. Despite her protest, Bucky held her hip down, interlocking his hands across her stomach to keep her in place and continue to lick and suck on her overstimulated cunt.
Her whiny pleas didn’t come across as a sign for him to stop; instead it kept him going causing him to bury his face further in between her legs. His cock continued to throb in his pants, probably leaking with so much pre-cum and in need of some sort of relief but he ignored it. He wants nothing more than for Y/N to cum on his tongue again.
And that is exactly what happened next.
The moment she fell over the edge, Bucky pushed her even harder against him as her whole body spasmed. He maintained his pace on lapping up at her all throughout her high as her hands went from his hair to the headboard, trying to hold her limp body upright. Y/N took a moment to gather herself together, panting heavily as she regained their senses; while Bucky was swift to pull his pants off and throw it to the side.
He grabbed on her hips, holding her firmly in place as his heavy leaking cock nestled between her aching pussy. “Are you sure about this, my dear?” his hot breath fanning against her neck as he gently ruts into her heat. Even though Bucky can see the darken lust in her eyes, he still wanted to make sure that she was sure of her decision.
Y/N’s heart swelled at his concern, and she found herself smiling, a genuine smile that reflected the warmth she felt inside. She pulled him closer and kissed him, pouring all her newfound trust and affection into the kiss. “Yes, Bucky. I am very sure. ”
Bucky quickly responded with equal passion, his tongue slipped in between her lips; exploring the warmness of her mouth, the softness of her tongue. Their muffled moans filled the silenced room, his hands moved to caress her sides, drawing her even closer before breaking away from the heated kiss.
Resting his forehead on hers, his eyes trained on her beautiful face; not wanting to miss his chance to witness the pleasure contorting on her expression. He nudges her clit first, rubbing it slow and sensual before trailing down to her entrance. Gradually, he inches closer, he pushes in and through the tightness of her sacred channel.
Delving impossibly deep, her tightness wrapped around his thick cock until the tip of him reached the deepest parts of her. The sudden feeling of fullness on her untainted pussy caused her to experience both pain and the delightful sensation inside her. The ecstasy of being so knitly connected to each other caused both of them to simultaneously let out moans and groans of raw pleasure.
Bucky waited for her to adjust to his size; leaning down to pamper her with the softest kisses and praises that tears started to swell in her eyes. It was as if Bucky knew exactly what she wanted to hear, how she wanted to be treated and what makes her feel good.
“You’re doing so good, my dear.”
“Look at how perfect your pussy’s taking my cock. So perfect.”
“Made for me aren’t you, sweetheart?. Made to be loved by me, made to be stuffed full of my cock.”
“I promise you’ll be safe with me, Y/N. Always.”
When Y/N finally gave him the permission to move, Bucky kissed her pouty lips and murmured sweetly, “Thank you, my dear.” His hands travelled to find her ankle; which he then gently prop her calf over his broad shoulder. He started pumping in and out slowly, letting her get used to the friction. 
Bucky couldn’t help but to groan out to the feeling of her wet hole gripping his cock ever-so-tightly. It was slippery and dripping, that he almost completely slid out of her. Gripping her closer he continue ramming himself back in, deeper, harder; sliding in and out of her at an even pace. Each force of his cock causing her body to jerk in ecstasy; hitting that good spot in her so perfectly.
“S-shit, sweetheart,” he moans deep and heavy as he felt her pussy tightening around him. His metal hand slid in between them and his thumb hones in on her clit. The coldness of his finger made her jolt at first but when he proceeded to rub and pinch on it, everything suddenly started to feel too intense; so incredibly good.
With his fingers assaulting her clit, each thrust of his cock and every deep guttural moan and groan coming from Bucky, she felt her release was growing closer. Bucky also started thrusting faster and harder; he knew he was about to come. Especially when he can feel how much pre-cum has been leaking inside her.
He leaned and rested his forehead on hers, his needy ruts became more and more irregular when her pretty doe eyes looked up at him, “Cum for me, my dear.” his lips brushed against Y/N’s as he coaxed her to her sweet release. His thrusts got harsher and deeper and the friction of his metal finger working on her clit got her cunt to frantically tremble around him, “I wanna feel you milk my cock, sweetheart. Then, I’m gonna my pump cum inside you until you’re leaking.”
Although his words were debauched to no end, however Y/N could sense his genuine affection for her. She felt his sincerity in the way he looked at her, in the way he held her, in the silenced gaze they shared. Overwhelmed with pleasure, her nails dragged across Bucky’s back as she moaned and screamed out his name; letting the high took over her body.
“Fuck,, sweetheart. I’m gonna cum!” groaned as he took in the sound of her pleasured mewls. He ruthlessly grinds into her, savouring the feeling of her cunt tightened around him. With one last rut, he thrust his cock, balls deep inside and let his warm white strings filling her up to the brim. His cock twitches in her fluttering cunt, his legs tensing with every small grind he makes, groaning lowly at her as he bites down on her shoulder, almost drooling on her as he emptied himself completely into her.
Y/N continued to let out strings of soft moans as he pulled out from her leaking cunt; all swollen and sensitive. While she thought she could finally catch some breaths, she didn’t notice the way Bucky was biting on his lip at the sight of his cum dripping out of her, or how his hands lazily tugging on his now hardened cock.
“Dearest?” Bucky hovered above her as he cradled her by her flushed cheeks. She smiled sweetly as she leaned to his touch, “Yes, Bucky?”, she was anticipating him to utter more of those soft words and praises to her; but instead his lips curled into a devilish grin when he slid his cock back into her, immediately pulling a long sinful mewl of his name from her. Bucky hummed approvingly in response; he gently brushed his lips against hers, “May I fill you up again?”
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As the morning sun streamed through the windows, Y/N slowly stirred awake. She reached out, instinctively searching for the warmth of her husband beside her, but found the space empty. A pang of loneliness touched her heart, but it was quickly replaced by curiosity when she saw a bouquet of bluebells, her favourite flower, placed delicately on the bedside table.
Next to the bouquet was a note. With a small smile, she picked it up and began to read.
"My Dearest Y/N,
I hate to leave you alone this morning, but I must ensure our journey home is smooth and safe. I trust you slept well, and I promise to return to your side as soon as I can.
Yours always,
Bucky"
The words written on the note were filled with sincerity and reassurance that made her heart flutter. She smiled, a blush creeping across her cheeks as she wondered how he knew bluebells were her favourite.
Just as she was lost in thought, the door opened, and the palace’s maids entered the room. Their faces were a mixture of curiosity and impatience, clearly expecting to see a frightened and bruised young bride.
However, when they saw Y/N's skin, they temporarily froze in their spots. Her skin was indeed bruised, but each one of them recognized the marks for what they were: love marks, not signs of harsh abuse that they were expecting. The traces of Bucky's possessive love were prominent all over her neck, chest, and inner thighs, leaving Y/N blushing as the maids, too, found themselves flushed with embarrassment.
“Well, isn’t this a surprise,” one of the older maids muttered under her breath, her tone laced with irritation. Another maid, with a more condescending sneer, huffed. “Looks like we lost the bet, ladies. Who would have thought the beast could be so... tender?”
Y/N’s cheeks burned with a mix of embarrassment and pride. She could feel their resentful glances and knew they were not pleased with the outcome. The marks on her body were a testament to the affection and desire Bucky had shown her, and despite the initial fear, she now wore them as symbols of the unexpected bond they had begun to forge.
The head maid, who had been the most vocal the night before, now seemed to handle her with an edge of bitterness. The other maids, who had been so quick to judge, were now silent, their eyes wide with resentment.One of the younger maids, braver than the rest, couldn’t hide her frustration. “Well, my lady, I suppose you’re alright, then?” she asked, her voice barely masking her disappointment.
Y/N looked at her, considering the appropriate response. If it was up to her, she ought to punish every single one of them for not knowing their place. Unfortunately, they were not her maids to begin with, but the palace's staff. Otherwise, she would likely fire each one of them. 
The memory of Bucky’s affection and care filled her heart, leaving no room for anger or resentment. The warmth of his embrace and the gentle way he had treated her made the maids' behaviour seem petty and insignificant.
She could still feel the lingering touch of his lips on her skin, the way his hands had caressed her so delicately, and the sound of his reassuring voice. Her body was still tingling with the remnants of the previous night's intimacy. Her skin bore the marks of his love, not of brutality, and each bruise was a testament to the passion they had shared. It was completely different to the vile expectations of the maids.
A small smile playing on her lips despite the blush that still coloured her cheeks. "Yes," she said softly, "I am quite alright."
The maids exchanged annoyed glances, their expressions a mix of frustration and disbelief. Their muttered disappointments were tuned out as Y/N focused on the lingering warmth from the night before.
She couldn't hear a single thing except her heart beating to the thought of her husband. She missed him already. Who would’ve thought she’d be swooning for him so soon?
She found herself yearning for his presence, the comfort of his touch, and the sound of his reassuring voice. The memory of his gentle kiss and tender words lingered in her mind yet again, making her heart flutter.
As the maids continued their work, Y/N hoped they would at least perform their duties well enough to cover up for their childish behaviour. She wanted to be ready to see Bucky, to greet him with the same warmth and affection he had shown her. Despite their rudeness, she resolved to focus on the positive, cherishing the newfound bond with her husband.
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Bucky stood at the head of the table, his stern expression and commanding presence filling the room. He was reviewing the logistics of their journey home, his voice cold and decisive as he issued instructions to his knights. His trusted knight, Sam, was detailing the possible hotspots for bandits they might encounter along the way.
"We'll likely face trouble here," Sam said, pointing to a spot on the map. "We should send some of our best men ahead to clear the path."
"Agreed," Bucky responded, his tone unyielding. "Deploy the knights in advance. Ensure the path is secure before we proceed."
Sam nodded and continued outlining the plan. He paused, expecting Bucky to reconfirm, but noticed a change in his leader's face. The harsh lines softened, his eyes filled with a tender warmth, as he stared intently at something across the room. Before Sam could look or utter a word, Bucky turned and walked away with determination.
Sam followed Bucky's gaze and understood immediately. "Ah, that's why," he muttered to himself as he watched Bucky approach Y/N. The change in Bucky’s demeanour was striking. He moved with a grace and warmth that was at odds with his usual stern and imposing presence.
Bucky’s eyes softened as he took in the sight of Y/N. He admired her beauty with a gaze filled with awe and adoration. The way he looked at her was as if he was seeing a vision he had longed for, a rare and precious gem that had finally come into his life.
As he extended his hand toward her, a gesture usually seen as etiquette but now entirely with different meaning, especially with the hearts bursting our of his blue eyes. Y/N’s face lighting up with a shy smile, took his hand; almost too eagerly. Bucky's fingers closed gently around hers, his touch tender and reassuring. The contrast between his usual, fearsome reputation and the gentle way he interacted with her was profound, making it clear that his feelings for Y/N were deeply genuine.
Bucky kissed the back of her hand, his lips softly caressing her knuckles. "My dear," he greeted her, using the endearment he had chosen when they first met at the altar. 
The scene seemed like it was pulled raw from a romance novel that the surrounding staff and knights simply watched in shock and awe. "Did he just..." one knight whispered, eyes wide. "Called her 'my dear'?" another finished, equally stunned.
Sam, who had witnessed firsthand the monstrous side of Bucky in war, found himself in a state of utter disbelief, jaw dropped loose. He had seen Bucky’s sword painted blood-red, his face splattered with the gore of countless enemies. The Winter Soldier was a force of nature on the battlefield, his brutal efficiency leaving a trail of carnage in his wake. Sam recalled the sight of Bucky’s cold, unyielding eyes as he cut through foes without hesitation, his armor and weaponry gleaming with the blood of those who dared oppose him.
And yet, here he was, the same man who had struck terror into the hearts of many, now standing before Y/N with a tenderness that seemed unimaginable. Sam could hardly believe his eyes. The disparity was pronounced and bewildering. Bucky’s expression was soft, his movements gentle as he held Y/N’s hand in his.
“I’ve missed you,” Y/N said softly, her eyes shining with affection. She truly did, it would be a lie that she didn’t felt the ache in her heart when she woke up alone that morning. The emptiness beside her had felt profound. The bed still carried his scent, a lingering warmth that whispered of his recent presence. Even though the separation had been brief, as evidenced by the thoughtful note and the bouquet of her favourite flowers he had left behind, the loneliness she felt was palpable. His absence, however fleeting, had created a void that left her feeling incomplete.
Bucky’s heart seemed to burst with emotion. He couldn't care less about the gawking staff surrounding them as he pulled her close and kissed her deeply. She initially froze, caught off guard and embarrassed, but soon melted into his kiss with a blossoming confidence.
As their lips met, memories of their tender and passionate night together surged through Bucky's mind. The way she moan his name, the taste of her cum, the tightness of her pussy gripping on his cock, the way his cum leaked out of her, every single sinful scene replayed in head; infinitely. The intensity of the moment was overwhelming, and he found himself nearly losing control. Reluctantly, he pulled back from the kiss, his breath uneven and his gaze filled with an unspoken hunger.
"God, what should I do with you, hmm, sweetheart?" Bucky whispered, his voice laced with seduction as he continued to place gentle kisses along her cheeks and jaw. His lips brushed softly against her skin, whispering how much he had missed her and expressing a wistful desire to stay wrapped in the warmth of their shared bed just a little longer.
Y/N’s soft giggle rang out as she felt the roughness of his stubble against her delicate skin. The sound was like music to Bucky's ears, brightening his mood and filling him with a profound sense of joy. Despite the joyful exchange, he reluctantly ended the sweet torment, his kisses lingering just a moment longer before he pulled away.
“We should be ready to begin our journey shortly,” Bucky said, his tone shifting to a more practical note when e turned to Sam, who had approached during their moment of intimacy.
“Y/N, this is Sam Wilson, he is one of my trusted knights.” Bucky introduced, his gaze shifting to his wife. Sam gave a respectful nod to Y/N, a hint of surprise still evident in his expression from witnessing Bucky's affectionate display. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Y/N.”
Y/N smiled warmly at Sam, appreciating the introduction. “The pleasure is mine, Sir Wilson.”
Sam, sensing that the formality was unnecessary given their imminent interactions, decided to ease the situation. “Just Sam, my lady,” he said with a friendly tone. Y/N repeated his name with a touch of amusement. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Sam.”
Bucky, observing the growing camaraderie between his wife and his trusted knight, couldn’t help but feel a twinge of protectiveness. The easy familiarity between them seemed a bit too casual for his liking. His eyes narrowed slightly as he gave Sam a warning look. “Watch it, Wilson.”
Sam, not missing a beat, chuckled at Bucky’s protective demeanour. “What’s the matter, my lord? Can’t handle a bit of friendly conversation?”
Y/N, noticing the playful tension and Bucky’s slight irritation, couldn’t help but laugh. The contrast between Bucky’s usually soft demeanour that Y/N had witnessed and his current protective stance were both endearing and amusing. Her laughter lightened the mood, making Sam’s teasing even more enjoyable.
Bucky's stern gaze softened as he watched Y/N’s laughter, though his protective instinct remained palpable. Steering the conversion back to the preparations, he allowed a faint smile to tug at the corners of his mouth despite his earlier warning.
“I trust you can escort my wife to the carriage,” Bucky said, his voice serious but tinged with a hint of a smile. “However, I expect you to maintain proper distance and adhere to these additional guidelines.” He paused, ensuring his words were clear. “No unnecessary physical contact or overly familiar behaviour. And if you could, avoid any casual conversations that might be misinterpreted.”
Sam looked at Bucky in disbelief, shaking his head with a bemused expression. “Seriously, Barnes? You’re laying down rules for me to keep my distance from your wife now?”
Bucky’s eyes narrowed playfully. “Consider it a precaution. I’d rather not have any misunderstandings.” Sam chuckled, rolling his eyes as he complied. “Understood. I’ll make sure to follow your... guidelines.”
Y/N watched the exchange with amusement, her earlier shyness melting away into a warm appreciation for Bucky’s protectiveness. The scene, tinged with a touch of comedy, only deepened the connection between them.
Bucky, intent on making a point to Sam while expressing his affection, pulled Y/N close and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. The gesture was both intimate and deliberate, a subtle yet clear indication to Sam that she belongs to Bucky. “I’ll join you shortly, my dear,” Bucky said softly, his voice filled with warmth as he gazed into her eyes.
Sam, unimpressed by Bucky’s display, rolled his eyes at the seemingly childish antics. “This way, my lady,” he said with a hint of impatience. Y/N nodded in agreement but paused before turning her back on Bucky. With a loving smile, she whispered, “I’ll see you later,” before following Sam.
Bucky watched as Sam guided Y/N away, his gaze lingered with a mix of affection and something much deeper; an unspoken sadness. As their silhouettes walked further and further away from his sight, a sombre glaze settled over his eyes.
Beneath the surface of his composed exterior, his heart ached; the was a silent reflection of a pain he had hidden deep within his heart. It was a lingering sorrow that had shadowed him ever since he stood at the altar, the weight of unvoiced grief clinging to him as he gazed at his future bride.
Part II >>
Read my other works here: Masterlist
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A/N: Wondering why he was in the feels at the end? We’ll know it soon enough. I’ll see you in the next parts! Thank you for reading!
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iwassupremacy · 4 months
Text
A lady’s pleasure
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Jacaerys Valeryon x fem!reader
Summary: For Jace Sex was always just duty. Get naked, be careful but quick and produce an heir. But when Aegon once again provokes him by saying his nephew was unable to please his wife it bothered him. Perhaps his uncle was right? It never occurred to him to please you or himself for that matter. Now he’s determined to learn.
Warnings: husband!jace x wife!reader, nipple play, hair pulling, oral (f receiving), fingering
Please let me know if I missed anything
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“You must certainly know how to make your lovely wife feel good. After all you are the crown prince, Jacaerys Valeryon. You must have her quivering and singing underneath you.”
“Aegon, stop it at once!” Alicent Hightower urged her oldest son with a firm voice.
“With what reason? Should he feel as if I am mocking him then it could only be because I am false. Am I false, nephew?”
Jace could only stare and listen to his uncle making cruel jokes right in his face. His hands were angrily balled into fists but he remained silence.
Denying Aegon the pleasure of starting a fight about his performance in the bedroom in front of their family and worse you.
You stayed just as quiet and unreadable as he himself did and for an unknown reason it made Jace feel insecure. Did he know how to make his wife feel good? How to please her needs? Or even his own?
For him the act of it was only ever a way of making a family and producing heirs. Participating in its activity purely out of desire never occurred to him for many reasons.
For once he was terribly afraid of fathering any bastard children since he very much knew how it could feel like.
Besides he saw in Aegon how the needless pleasures and suspensions of its houses could turn a man into a beast.
But he was also an unwanted participant of a conversation between his mother and ser Harwin Strong when he was a child and realised how incredibly unfair it was for women to be the only gender having to save themselves.
For those reasons and others he kept to himself. Besides he rarely felt the need to anyway.
“Jacaerys, my apologies. I sincerely hope, you are not taking any of his unfounded claims to heart. You must be aware of how he can get” she looked away from him and at her son instead “when he is drowning in his cups.” she now angrily frowned.
Jace only sighed. “Do not worry. You might remember that I grew up around his nagging. Therefore I am quite used to this behaviour of his.”
-
Later when the young prince and his family arrived back at Dragonstone he accompanied you to your chambers.
“See me tonight, my prince? I am in no mood to sleep alone these days.” You whispered, putting your hands on his face in a comforting manner.
It was rather obvious that you felt quite compassionate towards him after such an exhausting feast.
Jace smiled lightly and nodded. He felt grateful for having you. And if you were honest you were very grateful for having him as well.
“Let me quickly inform my mother and the guards about my presence in your chambers for the night and once it’s done and I am ready for bed time I will be with you, my lady.”
You bit your lower lip at the tingling feeling in your stomach. He had a way of making you feel like this.
“And stop addressing me as your prince, please. I am not saying I do not enjoy it or that it is not true, I am only reminding you that you are not obligated to refer to me in such formalities. Call me your husband or by my birth name.”
You girlishly giggled. “But you are addressing me as your lady as well, my prince.” No matter how many times he reminded you of this you simply liked teasing him.
“These two are not the same at all to me. But I shall refer to you differently if you wish it.” He smiled.
“Yes please, I wish it. And I will wait for you tonight, husband.”
-
Jace took a deep breath as he entered the throne room and found who he was looking for. His mother’s husband and his great uncle.
“Daemon.” He called across the room.
“Jacaerys. What brings you here at this late hour?”
The young man came to a halt his face turning a bright red giving his intent right away. Daemon still awaited for Rhaenyras son to voice it.
“I am here about the matters I was so” he swallowed thickly “rudely tormented about this afternoon.”
“Boy, do not let it get to your head. You are more a man than Alicents son could ever be. Both of then in fact.“ Daemon was quick to push Jaces pride.
“I appreciate the compliment. But I have to admit that I fear my uncle might have had a point. Though I do not desire to be anything like him I have to admit I don’t know much about“ he paused “a womans body.”
“So you came to me to ask for advice on these affairs?”
“I am afraid so.”
-
You were comfortably sitting in your bed waiting for your husband in the light of your many candles while reading a book about Aegon the conqueror and his sisters.
He was taking suspiciously long for simply informing his guards about his stay at your chambers but you let him be since even a gentleman like your husband was were allowed to have a wounded pride.
You carefully manoeuvred your body out of the huge bed which was nice and warm but felt a little lonely by yourself.
Your night gown was of a light blue and thin which was not an unconscious decision. You liked to be a little cold at night so you had a reason to ask for your husband’s embrace.
You carefully approached the big door of your room. You only wanted to peak. Maybe you could spot him coming for you down the hallway.
And just as you reached for the handle of your wooden door it opened and you were met with the dark brown eyes of your husband.
“Jacaerys~” you let out.
“My love” he whispered “I am terribly sorry to had you waiting for me too long. There were some urgent issues I had to discuss with Prince Daemon.”
This new nickname send shivers down your spine and for a second you could only stare at him before regaining confidence.
“It is quite alright. Come on in. I have warmed the bed for us.”
You took his hand in yours and lead him to the bed. Once you were there both of you stood on opposite sides of it. You couldn’t help but notice his staring. Especially of your upper region.
“Are you tired yet, my love?” He sheepishly asked.
“Not quite. Is there something you want to discuss with me, husband?” You innocently wondered resting your body with your hands on the bed and stretching your face in his direction, subconsciously biting your lips.
“First lesson, boy. Get her excited for it first.”
He only chuckled at that which made your stomach tingle again. “The way you’re asking me is almost tempting, my love.”
He did the same as you pushing his face and upper body in your direction until you could feel his warm breath fan over your face.
For several minutes the two of you just looked at each other from opposite sides of your bed and even though you didn’t say or do anything and he didn’t either your breath heaved.
The silence got interrupted by his chuckling again and then he touched your cheek with his right hand.
“Have I ever told you how incredibly beautiful you are?” he whispered to your lips. And then, only lightly and almost unnoticeable, he bit it. Barely scraping your lower lip with his teeth.
Your breath hitched. “You- you have. On our wedding night.”
“I remember. Almost two moons ago. I should have told you every single day since then and I shall tell you every single day from now on.” He pecked your cheek. “Come, my love. Lay down.”
You did as he asked you, crawling into the middle of the bed and lying down on your back. His stares burning in your skin.
This was so different from what you knew. So far you only ever got into bed, shared a kiss and did what had to be done.
Of course he was gentle and looked after your well being but it was still always quick and a little uncomfortable.
But this? This was exciting. This made you feel things. New things.
Once you were comfortable Jace climbed on top of you, settling between your legs.
He smiled at you brushing the strands of hair out of your face. “Are you alright?“
You brushed through his wild curls as well and muttered “of course.“
He leaned down to you his breath fanning your face once again. “Good. Tell me if anything changes.”
He leaned down to you and kissed you tenderly, his plush lips pressing against yours. Carefully you returned his gesture but he didn’t stop there as usual.
Suddenly you could feel his tongue brushing over your lips which made you tremble and remove yourself from him. “What-“
He didn’t let you finish. “Do you trust me, my love?” You quickly nodded your head.
“I shall lead you then. I have waisted far too many weeks keeping you dissatisfied. I plan on making up for my mistakes tonight.” He whispered to your ear.
“You don’t have to, dear husband. I am happy as is.” You whispered back.
“I most certainly have to. Let me do this please. I no longer desire to be mocked by my uncle and feel he is right. I shall have you quivering and singing underneath me.”
You couldn’t help but whimper at that.
“Second lesson. Worship her body. I mean kiss her, touch her, feel her up. Not only down under but everywhere. Even her tits. Especially her tits.“
“Jacaerys~”
“Call me Jace, my love. Everybody does so.” He breathed down your throat and kissed the lobe of your ear.
He started to scatter kisses all over your shoulder and the bending of your neck as well, going lower and lower.
Driven by the desperate need to hold onto something your hands went up into his hair and slightly pulled at his unkempt curls.
Your body was now acting on its own needs and without realising you threw your head back and pushed your hips up against him.
As a reaction to the friction he received from your movement Jace unwillingly bit into the softness of your cleavage.
You let out a surprised hiss and pulled on his hair even harder.
You lightly pulled his head back until he was looking at you through lewd eyes. Your pupils were slightly dilated and your eyes blown wide with wanton which only made him grin boyishly.
“Fuck. My apologies, my love. Seems like you will have to wear dresses with a rather high neckline for some time. I left quite the mark there.“ he chuckled.
Your walls clamped, your slick gushing out. You had never before seen him like this let alone heard him swear so freely.
Without a second thought you pulled him down again and kissed his lips. Once again he was licking your lower lip but this time you didn’t pull away,
Instead you opened your mouth granting him entry.
His tongue found yours quickly, circling and sucking it. It practically had you rolling your hips and this time Jace pushed back, accommodating his rhythm to yours until the two of you were mindlessly grinding against each other while your tongues were almost doing the same.
One of his hands was resting next to your head, holding your face while he held his weight up on his arm. The other hand was brushing your sensitive skin with his fingertips, sometimes tickling a little.
Until this hand finally had a purpose when it wandered straight to your breast. Your mounds were hardened, peaking through the thin layer of clothing
Jace tested the waters by only gingerly pinching one of them. When you broke the kiss to push your head back into the pillow and softly moan he immediately twisted and pinched a little harder which resulted in your eyes squinting and your hips stuttering.
Jace bit his swollen lip and groaned at the sight before him. How could he have possibly missed out on this up to now?
He let go of your breast and stopped his movements all together. Your eyes opened and when you saw him grinning down at you with a raised brow, you blushed and tried to look away.
But he didn’t let you and instead used his now free hand to grab your chin and make you look at him.
His stare was stern and intense and you were struggling with holding it but you didn’t look away this time.
“I would like to undress you now if that is okay with you.“ he said while caressing your skin and hair.
You nodded. You always liked your husband, even back when he was only one of many suitors you long preferred him over anybody else but this night might just make you fall in love with him.
“Yes, Jacaerys, it is more than okay for me.“
His hands let go of you as he sat up on his knees to balance himself and they now grabbed the inside of your thighs which made you gasp and close them.
You looked at him through apologetic eyes. “I’m sorry, my prince.”
He raised his brows. “Do not apologise or call me your prince. What is the matter, my love? It is not as if I have never touched or seen what hides between your thighs before.“
You blushed and looked away. “I know you have. But this- this is so… different-“ you stuttered quietly.
“How so?“ he wondered and you just knew he was being ignorant. He knew, he only wanted you to tell him.
You whined, pouting a little and looking back at him through innocent eyes but when he did not budge you sighed.
“Because this is more intense. More intimate.“ your face was burning up so much you had no desire to know how you looked like right now.
For Jace on the other hand you looked really adorable right now. He chuckled, freeing you from your suffering. “I see. Shall I undress first then?“
You only nodded and looked him up and down which made you realise something you payed no attention to so far. He was still wearing what he wore to the feast.
“You’re not wearing anything fitting for the bed.“ you noticed, brushing over his tunic.
“I was not planning on wearing anything when I sleep over at your chambers tonight, my love.“
Your breath instantly hitched. He was panning for this?
Carefully you tucked at his tunic. “Take it off. Jace~ please.”
He only slowly started to unbuckle the belt around his waist, unbuttoning his tunic even slower.
You whined. “Stop being a tease~ please.”
He smirked and got out of bed and up entirely brushing his tunic off his shoulders.
You sat up and stared at him through blown eyes. It was not as if you had never seen his body before but you had never mustered him so extensively.
His skin was tanned and his shoulders broad. His chest was beautifully shaped and there was a little line of hair going down to where his sex was.
Your eyes wandered up to his meeting his intense stare once again and it made a shiver run down your spine.
Jaces big hands went to his trousers and just as before he removed them tauntingly slow.
You whined again, this time louder. “I told you not to be a tease!”
Without another word he let his trousers fall to the ground and your eyes automatically shot down again. He was simply perfect.
It was standing up, touching Jace’s stomach. Tip colored in a dark red color and leaking and it made you feel almost proud.
Naked and as the gods formed him Jace stood before your bed still staring down at your small frame.
Your legs were angled up, your knees touching your chest while you rested all of your weight on your palms.
“You cannot tell me what to do or not do, dear wife. I am your husband after all.” He reminded you, getting your attention again and though you knew he didn’t mean it, you frowned, feeling sorry.
Without another word he nakedly climbed on the bed, crawling towards you.
Once he was face to face with you smiled again as he did too.
“So I” he kissed your forehead “can only tell you what to do.”
Your eyes closed at the touch of his lips with your head. “What shall I do, my love?” you whispered, your hand touching his chest, caressing his defined muscles.
Jace groaned at you using this nickname as well and your touch and harshly pressed his lips against yours.
Again your hand went in his hair straight away, brushing it out of his face, clinging to it.
He moaned to your lips. “I love it when you do that. Keep your hands in my hair, love. Do not remove them, no matter what.”
“Third lesson. Use your tongue on her, boy. Eat her cunt like a man starved. Women do love that.“
Finally he took your night gown in his hands and pulled it over your head in a swift movement.
Without shame he starred at you, his hands squeezing your breast which made you whimper and lay back down.
“I should have appreciated your body much sooner. Only ever doing what was necessary. My poor, poor lady wife. Must have felt so frustrated and unsatisfied.”
He openly mocked you and all you could get out was a pathetic whimper.
“All of it will end tonight.” he whispered in your ear, biting the lope.
Without realizing your thighs spread wider at his action and you pulled his hair. “Jace~”
Jacaerys looked down at your legs, biting his lips and smirking at your subconscious reaction. “You are the most perfect woman I have ever laid eyes upon. I dare even say the most perfect human.”
“Jacaerys, please.” You pleadingly looked at him through blown eyes. “T-touch me.”
Your face became of a deep red color but you still held his intense stare. You couldn’t quite believe what you had just asked of him. No woman of your class should ever beg for such lewd doings.
Or even desire them at all.
Jace could do nothing but chuckle at your embarrassed face and take it in his hand “Where do you desire my touch the most, my love?”
“Perhaps” he whispered “here?” His thumb lightly brushed over your bottom lip.
“Or maybe” his fingertips tickled your neck and down your shoulder to your hand “here?”
Softly he took your hand in his.
And then suddenly not so soft anymore he pinned it over your head, down onto the mattress which made you yelp in shock.
“Perhaps you don’t even want me to touch you with my hands at all? Would you rather I use my mouth, my love?”
Your eyebrows knitted and right when you wanted to ask him about the meaning behind his questions his mouth went straight down to your breast.
Your back arched when you gasped and tried to pull his head away with your hand that had remained in his hair.
“Oh~” you sighed, having no other choice than finally relaxing at his touch when he didn’t move away.
He licked and bit your mound, sometimes even sucking as if he were a babe.
Oddly enough it felt amazing and you couldn’t stop arching into him and letting out shallow breaths.
“Fuck~ so sensitive here, my love. Perhaps someday I could make you cum just by paying attention to your tits.”
You gasped at his vulgarity, it made you shiver and pull his head up to look at him. “Fuck~ never stop pushing and pulling my hair.”
You giggled girlishly and brushed through his wild curls. “I would never.”
Quickly he got back to his work but this time switched sides, paying attention to your other mound until your loud breathing turned into whining from all the soreness.
Once again he switched sides, teasing and testing you and never touching down were you needed him most.
Not even when you started to push your hips up, desperately trying to get some friction. “Jace~ enough, please. ‘m s-so sore.”
He detached himself and stared for a few seconds as if in awe, lightly biting it one last time, making you whimper.
Without another word he spread your legs as far as he could to comfortably settling between them and kissed his way from your stomach down.
Every once in a while he bit your skin which had you squirming in anticipation. He certainly knew how to take his time.
When he finally was eye level with your core, he didn’t came to a halt and instead started to kiss down your inner thighs as well.
“Jace~ my love, please. Please do not do this to me. You are being mean. I- I need your touch. Please.”
You panted, trying to pull him up by his hair, not caring about any decency anymore.
“So impatient. Do you not want me to enjoy this as well as you?” He said, his hot breath hitting your wetness while talking, making you gasp.
You quickly nodded “Yes, of course I want you to enjoy yourself.”
“Very well.” He mumbled, distracted by the sight in front of his eyes. “But I won’t make you wait any longer.”
He sticked out his tongue, flattening it and then took a long lick up your cunt, now having eye contact with you.
“Oh~ Gods~“ you moaned, arching your back. “What-“
“I need you to relax, my love. I promise you will like it.” he murmured against your core. His hot breath making you shudder.
“I- I already liked it. It was only much of an sur- OH” he experimentally sucked on your little bundle of nerves he so far had barely touched before, rudely interrupting you and making you yelp.
Your hand that was still im his hair gripped it tightly, making him groan in the process. The vibration of it got you to clench your thighs around his head.
“Respectfully. You talk too much.” he murmured once again. “Simply enjoy.”
You pathetically whimpered, not mustering any more than a nod. He could only smile at that.
He licked with his tongue again, circling your clitoris with it. Your breath fastened, free hand desperately searching for something to hold onto as well.
Silently Jace took it in his, squeezing lightly. He didn’t part from your core though, still feasting on you as if you were his most favorite meal.
You imagined your slick to be smeared across his chin and lips by now and it made you embarrassed and excited all the same.
Suddenly grabbed your thighs, putting your legs on his shoulders, your feet touching his back. His hands now holding your hips.
Your again free hand went up, fisting the cover of the cushion. His tongue was now flicking your bud in a fast motion.
You couldn’t help but stretch your lower half in the air, putting it right in his face. “Jace~”
His name left your lips like a prayer. Whispered, moaned, whined and whimpered. Your eyes wandered down, meeting his intense stare.
And then one of his hands left your hip, brushing the inside of your thigh. While he was still sucking at you, two of his fingers were now prodding at your entrance.
You gasped “Jacaerys- what-“ but he again interrupted you this time by pushing his fingers in, your walls welcoming them.
“So wet and warm. Tell me how you are feeling, my love.” He now parted from you, messily cleaning his face with the back of his other hand.
All the while his fingers were moving slowly in and out of you, making it hard to answer properly. “Good~ oh I~ I feel good.”
His previous cleaning was to no use when he simply chuckled and dived right back in getting back to work immediately.
It was as if he could not get enough of it.
“Fourth lesson, the most important one, you cannot and will not enter her before she isn’t as slick as a snail. Best if you have her finish at least once before you even attempt to your own pleasure.”
His fingers were moving at a rapid pace now, keeping a steady rhythm with his tongue, making you wonder if it wasn’t tiring for his muscles.
But you couldn’t really worry about that, your head being to full of Jace. His scent, his body against yours, his hair tingling your thighs.
Out of reflex you brushed it out of his face, his wild curls stickig to his forehead and neck.
Suddenly your entire body tightened when he hit a special spot inside of you. You moaned loudly “Jace~ stop it.”
But he didn’t. Instead he looked at you through thick lashes, fingers curling and massage said spot, mouth sucking.
“Jacaerys. Please~ hah” you were now trying to crawl away from him, his hand moving across your stomach, pinning your hip down as good as he could.
“I feel weird. Let us take a break OH GODS” your legs practically suffocated him, squeezing his head. Again he did not stop, still looking at you.
You were wondering if perhaps he was searching for any actual discomfort on your part, because even though you were begging him to stop you also felt you might cry if he actually did.
A strange sensation was building up inside you, stomach tingling, muscles tightening and most importantly your core was almost itching.
It felt as if you needed to get rid of this itch, grinding up on him to soothe the feeling.
“Your cunt is clenching so much, I have trouble believing you want me to stop.” Jace whispered against your core.
You couldn’t even answer, only violently shaking your head and welcoming the relieving feeling that washed over you.
You were whining so loud, you wondered if everyone could hear but you did not care. The only thing you cared about was him. Between your legs. Making you feel things you had never felt before.
And then it was all over. Your back arched one last time, thighs squeezing your husband incredibly tight. A wave of pleasure washing from your head down through your body to your tows.
Pretty much immediately it was all too much. His touch was now burning and you were practically pushing his head away.
“S’ too much.” You slurred. Your eyes were heavy, as was your breathing. Your legs now felt sore and weak.
Carefully Jace took them in his hands, removing them from his shoulders. He gently put them down on the mattress, coming up to you.
When he was eye level with you, he took in your figure. You seemed quite overwhelmed, one hand still very loose in his hair, which he also carefully removed, holding it in his hands.
Your other arm was hanging over your forehead and closed eyes. Your face was flushed and Jace couldn’t help but grin.
“How are you feeling, my love?” he whispered, pecking your lips. Weakly you returned his favor.
“Quite well I think.” you laughed breathlessly. “Tank you.”
Jace could only chuckle at you for thanking him. “Feels good, does it not? Have I never had you do that before?” he asked, a frown adorning his face.
Your face was flushed, cheeks red and breath still heavy. “Do what?”
He shaked his head the tiniest bit almost unnoticeable. “Finish. Have I never had you finish before?”
“I- I am unsure of it. So far I was not told a woman could even do that, my love.” you admitted lowering your arm and looking at him “Is that offensive to you?”
“No! Gods no. It should be to you. I have been ignoring your needs.”
“I was not aware I had those needs, Jace. Do not beat you up on it. I beg you.” You lifted your head up, looking in his saddened eyes.
“Which was my fault. I should have introduced you to all the good sides of a marriage. I failed. My uncle-“
“Your uncle is a drunken fool.” You interrupted his doubting “I doubt he has ever done to any Lady what you have done for me tonight. He has a loud mouth, I believe most of his talk is untrue.”
One of your hands brushed through his hair, stroking his cheek while the other held your weight up.
“Besides I decide whether or not you are a good husband and I decide that you are. I am content, I am happy, Jacaerys, I am pleased.”
Slowly you got fully up, pushing him down by his chest, swinging a leg over him and putting your weight on his thighs.
“What exactly are you doing?” your husband wondered, his hands automatically grabbing your hips.
Without answering you took his sex in your hand and slowly stroked it. “Ohh~ oh gods. What-“
“I am returning the favor, my love.”
3K notes · View notes
buckysunshine · 3 months
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i got my eye on you – house of the dragon
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader
Warnings: Smut (18+) ! Targcest/Targaryen Incest (Uncle/Niece), Enemies to Lovers, Denial of feelings, explosion of feelings, vaginal fingering.
Synopsis: Sixteen hours and six days were all it took for you to have everything Aemond had wanted. A dragon, a mother's unconditional love, a brother that actually cares and gives a shit. Sixteen hours and six days were all it took to hate you. 
At the return of the blacks, the princess is transformed, and the hate swirling in Aemond’s gut is replaced with something different, something new.
Word Count: 2.6K
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Sixteen hours. That was how long Rhaenyra labored to bring you into this world. With blood came the heir's only daughter, a spitting image of her mother yet contrasted by the colors of the father. A princess. Another bastard. 
Six days. That's how long you stayed in the babe's cradle until the hatching of your dragon egg. Arrax.
Sixteen hours and six days were all it took for you to have everything Aemond had wanted. A dragon, a mother's unconditional love, a brother that actually cares and gives a shit. 
Sixteen hours and six days were all it took to hate you.
~
Living in a den of vipers taught you more than the books you were forced to read. You were a princess, the daughter of the realm's heir, yet they treat you as the scum of a mare's back disguised in petty smiles and hidden whispers.
Early on, you learned you only had your family to depend on. Not your uncles. They always liked to inflict the most pain. Helaena was always sweet, but the queen made sure to isolate her from you and your family. 
But your greatest tormentor came in the form of purple eyes and silver hair. Aemond Targaryen.
He was always there to plague you no matter how nice you've been or how little you were. Eyes distant and cold, and on you at all times. You could never escape it; thus, it only made sense that you were the one to take his eye on that fateful night. You – the object of his ire, the thief who stole his eye. You tell yourself it was to protect your brother, but deep down, it was also to break free of his punishing stares. 
Aemond Targaryen was not the only person who changed from that moment. The day you took his eye was the day you gained your own courage.
"Enjoy it, uncle. The next time you see me, my mother will wear the crown, and your family will be set aside to return to your little green towers." You speak brazenly atop Arrax at the hour of your departure to Dragonstone. He may have Vhagar, but the true power belongs to the heir of the Iron Throne. 
Your last words to the one-eyed second son rang in his ears for the rest of his days, fueling the bitter craving for revenge in his heart. 
~
"You'll cut yourself." The rogue prince's warning makes you jump away from the valyrian steel. "Careful."
You've sneaked a glance at dark sister. The prince consort was rarely without it, so the one chance you see it abandoned, you gather up the courage to hold it even for a second. It felt like the blade was calling to you; surely, it was the voices of the lives taken by the age-old steel. 
Daemon takes the steel in his hand, wielding it easily. You watch his every move, utterly fascinated. Daemon sees the spark of ambition in your eyes. It's the same spark that flamed within him in his early years. 
"Ever used a blade?"
"Only one time when I took an eye."
Daemon grinned, passing the steel to you. He could work with that. "Not a bad start.”
Dark Sister felt heavy in your hands, but it was also oddly familiar. It felt right to hold it. You were a Targaryen, after all, and coupled with the strong genes of your father, it was no trouble to handle a sword. You were a quick learner, and Daemon took delight in training you, gender norms be damned. 
This would have never happened in the Red Keep. The only place for you there were the quilting room and the birthing bed. Ser Criston Cole would have never allowed you to step foot in his training grounds, and you would have never had the courage to try. 
Ever since you left for Dragonstone, your courage grew day by day, and with Daemon at your side, it flamed anew.
But all that courage faltered at the news of Vaemond Velaryon's challenge to Lucery's inheritance to Driftmark. 
Vaemond did not scare you, but the thought of returning to King's Landing and meeting a purple eye did.
-
Aemond Targaryen had never waited for a day like this. 
The blacks’ return shall be met with the green's first strike. His nephew is possibly disinherited; most importantly, he gets to prove you wrong. He waits to see you again so he could inject the fear that always made you shrink in his gaze. The years had made him hard, brutish. He and Vhagar are alike in more ways than the valyrian blood that flows in them.
Aemond's eye finds you immediately. Surrounded by your family, you seemed small but grown, more mature. Your dress is filled better by newly developed curves. Your locks remained ever dark, and it gives Aemond a reminiscence of a dark-haired woman plaguing his dreams as of late. Ever since he heard the news of your return, his dreams have been nothing but hazy images of dark hair that makes him wake with a hard cock. 
He ignores it.
Your families don't have time to reunite as the unforgiving court awaits. You don't make the effort to find your uncles either, though you did send a warm smile to your aunt. You ignore them, and it makes Aemond itch. He longs to see the fire in your eyes so he could squash and spit on it.
Vaemond Velaryon speaks, and he loses his head. 
Aemond is no stranger to bloodshed, relishes in it even. An unexpected similarity between you. 
It does not miss him when you don't flinch at the brutal slash, only moving to cover your younger brother, Joffrey. You watch the blade slash clean through flesh with a fervid gaze, and it gives Aemond surprise, his interest piqued.
~
"Seems like you're wrong, princess."
You were a hard one to track alone. Always surrounded by your pesky brothers, Aemond awaited the chance to corner you. He finds it fitting to find you in the dragon pit. You endured the tense family dinner, playing oblivious to the one purple eye peering over you, and once the feasting had ended, you were gone. Not in your chambers or even the grounds of the Red Keep. You escaped to the skies, flying Arrax till late at night. You needed the reprieve, and you wished you were back there again the moment you landed with Aemond already waiting for your alighting.
"Uncle." You greeted him, shedding your riding gloves off. He is taller now, more slender, and his face matured with the scar you left him with. Shame, he could have been handsome.
You walk, and Aemond is at your tail. He starts his taunting. 
"We meet, and yet no crown on your mother's head, and our family's roots are still deep within these courts."
"I am grateful for our king's long life." You say, eyes blank, straight ahead. You're being polite. Your mother's words of peace ring in your ears, and it takes all your effort to maintain niceties. Aemond sees right through it.
"There is only us. You can speak plainly." He clasps his arms behind his back, unbothered. "The king is dying and should have died long ago."
"Must you be so cruel?”
"I only speak the truth." He is close behind, leaning down to mutter in your ear. "Last time I recall, it is not a crime to do so. Well, should not be treated as such anyway." He says slyly, laying down his bait for you to take. 
"I was a kid, Aemond. Must you torment me all my life?" You bite, stopping in your tracks and facing him completely with fire in your eyes. The years of guilt and vexing rifts at your resolve. The man always knew how to push your buttons.
Ah, there she is. Aemond flashes a condescending smile just for a second before slipping back into his usual glare. "You know what I want. Justice."
"Then so be it." You pull out your sword, the same one Daemon gifted you years ago. It was smaller than the standard fighting swords, for it was only supposed to be used in training, but you don't care. A sword is a sword. You've done worse with smaller ones.
"Here's your justice. Try to take out my eye. I'll allow your efforts. Take my eye and be done with all these bother.”
Aemond stares at you delightfully surprised before drawing his own sword out. You dare? He answers. The years in Dragonstone changed you, no more the little girl he could torment and plague back in the Red Keep. He is made clear of it. The girl standing before him is a dragon, a warrior, a Targaryen. A predator to be conquered.
"Today is a good day for justice."
He swings, and steels meet.
It was a dance between two dragons, and the sound of swords clashing against each other played the music to every spin and sway. It was a dance, and Aemond hated how you were leading. 
Honed by the rogue prince, you've learned how to put up a good fight and sniff out an opponent's weak points. You detect Aemond's obvious weakness – his blind side. You focus your attacks on his left side, taking advantage of his every crux. He underestimated you, your hits stronger than he expected. He stumbles at your strike, aim focused on his left shoulder. 
But Aemond is no fool on the battlefield. He also paid his dues in his training with Ser Criston Cole. The man might be vile, but there is no denying the knight is the most skillful swordsman alive in King's Landing. Aemond's skills are beaten into him in the most literal sense, the years of cuts and bruises shaping him into the warrior he is now. It was no match to your little lessons, no matter how fast of a learner you might be. Aemond is still stronger, faster. 
And with a swing to your leg and a precise hit to your wrist, your blade flies away from you. Unarmed, the older boy takes the chance to seize you. 
You take the hit head on, grunting at the weight of him knocking you down.
Pinned on the ground, bladeless and pregnable, Aemond's steel rests snug against your neck. The music has stopped. You've lost. 
"Beg." Steel presses further into skin. "Beg for mercy."
"No." you spat, ever so stubbornly. A dragon does not beg.
Aemond's nostrils flare at your defiance, a thousand emotions brewing in his chest. He has wanted this for so long, yet he finds himself stalling for time.
Despite your loss, you weren't giving up. Aemond always hated how stubborn you could be, so careless, yet protected and loved even as a bastard. Aemond could do everything right, yet his father would not even spare him a glance unless he found himself in some sort of trouble, and Alicent shared the family's burden with him, depriving him of the innocence of childhood. But you had your dragon the day you were born, showered with love and affection. 
Spoiled. Ungrateful. 
In his resentment, he cuts skin, drawing blood. "Don't think I won't do it. You know I would."
You refuse to wince from the pain, eyes locked in and determined. "I fought, and I lost. I'm true to my word. Take my eye now. Take your prize." You turn your head, presenting him the left side of your face. "Is that not what you want, uncle? Or do you plan to bitch and whine to me for the rest of your days?"
"I want… nothing!"
Throwing his blade away, you're finally given a chance to breathe. Still on top, he looks down on you. Aemond has you at the bottom of his feet, to do what he wants, to take what he is robbed of, yet he finds himself at pause. He wanted an eye, and now he yearns for more.
As he watched your face, cheeks turning delightfully pink, and chest heaving, the strangest thing happened. Aemond felt something squeeze suspiciously in his chest at the thought of you exposed and vulnerable to him.
He realized he wanted you. He really, really wanted you.
Only then did the feeling of hatred in his gut turn to something different. It swirled anew — to desire.
Aemond Targaryen desires for the niece under him.
Oh.
With this revelation, he starts seeing the image in his dreams clearly. His conscience is plagued by the woman of dark hair and milky skin he's been dreaming of, the cause of his seed spilling on his thighs in the morning. It was you.
With the veil of denial finally lifted, he leans down and captures your mouth, pouring every bit of frustration and newly found desire into your kiss. Your hands raise to push him off, but he pins them down easily. Warm lips lock onto yours, forcing your mouth to yield to his demand and, eventually, your own visceral need. Unrelenting, your defiance quickly faded, and your tongue started meeting his as well. Heat dances in your chest and straight down the apex of your thighs. 
You've been kissed before, kissed sweetly, softly, but never like this. This was different; this was hungry, consuming, punishing. Aemond's kiss triggers a primal craving in your flesh; it refuses your mind's reason entirely.
Shifting above you, Aemond parts your legs, planting himself between your thighs. You feel the hard ridge of him pressing against your clothed core, and you undoubtedly grind against it. 
His body – Gods. It is evil how it was pressed against yours, the heat of it seeping through your clothing, searing your very soul.
He made you shiver. He made you melt.
Aemond gropes your breast, dipping down to nip at the neck he just pressed a blade against moments ago. "I want you."
Aemond always told the truth, an ideology planted in his head by his devoted mother, but it is only now he felt the peace a person should feel when telling the truth.
Aemond’s tongue traces a map of pleasure on your skin, fueling a need you never knew. He chants your name, groaning at every repeat. His lips move frantically along your face until they find your mouth again. “I need you.” He pressed his hips hotly against yours. “Do you feel how I need you?” 
Your fingers tangle in his silver hair, making it undone from its restraints; you grip it, urging for more.
"What is it? Take what you want." He yearns to hear your voice, hear you beg for him.
He pulls away, and you whine at the loss. "Use your words, princess. Tell me what you want.”
You're faced with Aemond's face atop of yours, and unthinking, you take it in your hands. He leans in, hanging on to your next words. 
Your lips hover over each other, and with a whisper, you say, "No."
Aemond's face breaks into a grin, a deep chuckle escaping him. Your heart stutters at the image of a genuine smile on the prince's face. It was a rare thing, and you don't know what to do with it.
Distracted, his fingers find your thighs, squeezing them hard before delving further. You gasp when he presses at the burning between your legs. 
"Now is not the time for your stubbornness, sweet niece."
Aemond quickly breaks through the layers of cloth separating him from your sensitive skin. It was embarrassing how easily he found the wetness waiting for him. But Aemond relishes at the feel of them, the thought of your excitement feeding his desire. His fingers play at your folds, sliding easily. He circles at your center, noticing how your moans become louder when he touches you there. He watches your every expression, determined to pluck your pleasure from you. You looked too pretty with your lips red and puffy, but your unscarred skin calls to be dirtied by him.
He leans down to nip at the skin of your jaw, then to your neck once more. He hopes to leave a mark. "Would you do it? Bed your uncle like your mother did.”
The sting of his tongue against the wound he placed on you wakes you from your haze. Your mother. The lust is quickly replaced by guilt and shame, and you suddenly feel suffocated. Shoving away, you slap him off you. He stumbles, shocked and disoriented. 
Gathering your skirts, you stand, now looking down at him. Your throat dries, but you speak firmly. "You've had your chance to take your justice. Now let us speak of it no more.”
And you were gone, fleeing without as much as a second glance behind, and Aemond is left alone. The sting on his face and the hardness of his cock are the only reminders of your dance.
1K notes · View notes
delulujuls · 3 months
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the other one | jacaerys velaryon
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hi, here comes the 2.7k of i don't know what, really. its for sure intense, so fasten up your saddle and enjoy the ride. i enjoyed making aegon such a cutiepie in my two last shots, but this man is designed to be a menace to humanity so yeah, i believe im gonna lose it in the next shots. prepare for chaos.
summary: heart want what it wants, and y/n's heart belong to young prince from dragonstone, not to the future cruel king of westeros.
warnings: targaryen brothers being mean to velaryon boys AGAIN, aegon is such a meanie oh god, fighting, arguing, threatening with a sword, last scene is smelling a bit like a rap3, so feel free to skip it. your comfort is the most important
pairing: sister!targaryen reader x jacaerys velaryon (ft. jealous, possesive and dark!aegon targaryen)
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Two young princes stood at the gates of the castle, awaiting guests. For several minutes they kept glancing at the sky, looking out for dragons. However, only the sound of wind and waves crashing against the rocks could be heard, with no indication that any winged beasts would soon appear before their eyes.
“Do you think they’ll come at all?” Lucerys asked his older brother, glancing at him. The cold wind chilled him to the bone, and the youngest of the Velaryons longed to return inside and sit by the fireplace.
Jacaerys did not get a chance to answer because shortly after, a muffled roar reached their ears, and something flickered in the low-hanging storm clouds. The heavy sky was pierced by the massive body of Vhagar, who was the first to emerge from the clouds and flew towards the beach. Close behind were Vermithor and Sunfyre, who looked dainty in comparison to those two giant dragons. Aemond, Y/N, and Aegon had arrived at Dragonstone.
Soon after, all four appeared at the castle gates. Helaena was flying with her older sister on Vermithor, choosing not to sail by ship with their mother, father, and grandfather. The youngest of the siblings still couldn't bring herself to travel alone on the back of her Dreamfyre, but felt confident with Y/N, now walking hand-in-hand with her sister towards the castle.
Lucerys took a step back, seeing Aemond and Aegon confidently striding towards them. The youngest Velaryon swallowed hard.
“I hope they don’t sit close to us,” he whispered, prompting his brother to discreetly nudge his arm.
Jacaerys smiled at the sight of the siblings. “Welcome, it’s good to see you here,” he said.
Aemond, leading the way, wore his characteristic grimace, nothing like the smile the young prince offered him. The last thing he felt like doing was feigning politeness. In silence, he merely glanced at them, bypassing them and pushing the heavy gate doors.
“My favorite, strong nephews,” Aegon said sarcastically, with a mocking smile. Passing by, he nudged Lucerys in the shoulder, who was about to turn and say something when his aunt’s voice reached his ears. Y/N smiled joyfully at the sight of Rhaenyra’s sons.
“Luke, Jace,” she extended her arms, hugging them both at once. Hearing the girl's joyful voice, Aegon glanced over his shoulder and rolled his eyes. He thought his sisters were too lenient with those bastards.
“It’s good to see you, Y/N,” Jacaerys smiled, embracing her and catching the smell of her lavender-scented hair. While he sincerely disliked Aemond and Aegon, he was very fond of their sisters. Helaena was shy and harmless, often speaking little and nodding more. Y/N, on the other hand, often reminded him of his mother, unafraid to speak up or defend her position. She was also wise and very pretty, and he was genuinely pleased to spend a few days in her presence.
“Are you coming, or are we going to freeze out here like a bunch of idiots?” Aegon asked sharply, seeing Y/N hold onto older Velaryon a bit too long. The young princess gave him an amused look, tousled Lucerys’ hair, and linked arms with Helaena. The four of them briskly walked towards the castle.
Rhaenyra was celebrating her thirty-second name day, so the entire family from King’s Landing had come to Dragonstone. Viserys wanted his daughter to celebrate her birthday in the capital, but she wished to spend the day her way. The ailing king, still battling illness, had no intention of arguing with his daughter, lacking the strength and health to do so. Even to the Targaryen seat, he chose to sail by ship rather than ride on the back of one of the dragons. After Balerion’s death, he had given up flying and now didn’t think about it at all.
During the evening feast, the dining hall filled with people. Despite it being Rhaenyra’s day, Viserys sat at the head of the table. To his left was his eldest daughter, beside her Daemon, Joffrey, Lucerys, Jacaerys, Rhaena, and Baela. On the king’s right sat his wife, next to her the Hand of the King, then Aemond, Aegon, Y/N, Helaena, and Rhaenys Targaryen, next to whom, at the other end of the table, sat Corlys Velaryon.
The feast went on in a calm and surprisingly pleasant atmosphere. Previous feasts often ended in arguments before they even really began. The main instigators of all disputes, Aemond and Aegon, sat quietly, not speaking much. Many might have thought someone stuffed hay into the dragons’ bellies to prevent them from breathing fire.
Aegon, however, increasingly clenched his hand around the wine goblet from time to time, hearing Y/N happily talking with Jacaerys across the table. His blood boiled hearing her so delighted with the conversation with him. He felt like slapping that fucking son of a bitch.
Helaena was also having a good time, shedding her shyness piece by piece with each sip of wine. She chatted lively with Rhaena and Baela, who were already slightly tipsy themselves. Rhaenys sent an amused look to her husband, who tightened his grip on the wine jug and pulled it closer. The Sea Snake had to be vigilant to prevent his granddaughters and the young Targaryen from getting too drunk. Helaena, however, had more to celebrate than just her half-sister’s birthday.
Since Viserys and Alicent’s daughters reached reproductive age, the Hand of the King and the Queen Mother began looking for potential suitors for them. While there was no trouble finding suitors for Y/N, who, besides her wealth and possessions, had a strong character and good disposition, finding a husband for Helaena was problematic.
From birth, the princess showed signs of abnormal development. Though she grew as a girl should, her mind seemed not to keep up, still trapping her in a world of childish dreams. Helaena was quiet, read a lot, and spent all her time in the garden, not burdened with unnecessary duties.
The Hand decided that when the time came, that is, when Aegon was to take the throne from the ailing king, he would marry Helaena, and Y/N would marry Forrest Frey. The plans were made at a Small Council meeting, which neither Helaena nor Y/N attended. Probably neither would have known about the plans to marry them off if Y/N hadn’t accidentally overheard their conversation when one of the doors unguarded by sentries was ajar.
“I don’t agree!” she said firmly, pushing the heavy doors and entering.
“Y/N, you can’t be here-,” Alicent stood up, wanting to calm her daughter, but she sharply pointed her finger upwards. “And you can’t do this to Helaena! I don’t agree!”
Aegon, who was one of the people at the table, also didn’t support the Council’s idea. However, he was too drunk to make any objections. Only his sister’s intrusion somewhat sobered him up. If he had to choose, he could marry Y/N since she wanted to fight so hard for Helaena’s better fate. Frankly, he didn’t care either way.
The guards first wanted to remove the young princess, but she began presenting her arguments. The Council didn’t think an eighteen-year-old’s arguments could make any sense, but many underestimated Y/N’s negotiation skills. In the castle, by Aegon’s side, she could be more useful than in the Riverlands beside Forrest Frey.
The Council decided that Helaena would marry Frey when the time came, and Y/N would marry Aegon. The young princess didn’t want Helaena to spend her life in the castle, locked in chambers and bearing children. She wanted her to break free from King’s Landing and experience a life different from the one she had lived so far. Y/N knew that unlike her sister, she could handle an incestuous marriage and an unwanted husband, who Aegon was to become in the future. Helaena might have been driven to suicide.
But for now, these were just tomorrow's problems, or who knows, maybe even further. Helaena, in a sudden burst of joy, stood up and climbed onto a chair, much to Alicent’s horror.
“To my beloved sister Y/N,” she said, swaying. Rhaenys held the chair to prevent her from falling. “And to my sister Rhaenyra, who celebrates her birthday today. I love you!”
Alicent, Otto, Aemond, and Aegon looked at her indulgently, raising their goblets. All the other guests eagerly toasted, applauding the young princess’s words. Rhaenyra stood up from the table and hugged her sister; Y/N also rose to do the same.
“Helaena needs rest,” Alicent whispered, gripping her daughter’s shoulder before she stood up. “Escort her to bed.”
Y/N shook off her hand and got up, embracing her sisters. However, when she felt Helaena’s heavy body in her arms, she held her close around the waist.
As soon as the sisters left the dining hall, Jacaerys, sent by his mother, joined them. Young prince apologized to Y/N and with a single, confident motion, picked up Helaena, who laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck. She kissed his cheek, admitting that she would let such a handsome man whisk her away without hesitation.
Jacaerys only let go of Helaena when he placed her on the bed in her bedroom.
"Will you stay with her until morning?" he asked as Y/N began removing the rings from her sister's fingers.
"Helaena usually sleeps like a mouse under a haystack, but after wine, she sleeps like a rock," Y/N replied, smiling slightly at the sight of her sister's flushed face. "Wait outside, I'll change her for bed and join you."
The young prince nodded obediently and left the chamber. He stood outside the door, straight as a string, feeling like a guard. Shortly after, the princess joined him, quietly closing the door behind her.
"She'll sleep like a baby until morning," she assured, laughing softly.
"It's nice to see her with a smile on her face," Jacerys admitted as they slowly began walking down the corridor. He quietly offered his arm to Y/N, which she gladly accepted.
"I've noticed she smiles much more when she's here. I feel like the capital is suffocating her."
Jacaerys lowered his gaze. He had recently learned about the marriage plans for the young sisters.
"I heard she'll leave King's Landing sooner or later," he said, glancing at her. He didn't know how delicate ground he was entering.
The young princess sighed and nodded. She spent the whole way telling Jacaerys about everything that had happened in the past weeks. In the company of the boy, Y/N didn't feel like his aunt, as their relationship would suggest, but like a friend. After all, they were only a year apart in age. They had always had a good relationship and, unlike her hostile brothers, Y/N really liked Jacaerys. She cherished every opportunity she could spend with him. This was one of those moments.
The pair didn't return to the feast; instead, they went to one of the terraces. They sat on one of the benches, and Y/N involuntarily rested her head on the boy's shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her waist, hugging her close.
"You deserve more, Y/N," he said quietly. "Both you and Helaena deserve more."
"I know I'll manage, I'm strong," she said, watching the remnants of the day dance on the horizon. "But I'm so scared for Helaena. She deserves the whole world, not what's waiting for her in King's Landing."
The young princess wasn't sad; at this moment, she could even say she felt a lightness in her heart. Jacaerys' body warmed her pleasantly, and the cool, salty air chased away the heat caused by the wine from her cheeks.
"You're the bravest dragon I've ever known," he said with a smile, looking at her face. The girl smiled at his words. "I don't know stronger people than Targaryen women."
"Do you really think so?" she asked quietly, looking into his eyes. She didn't know if his cheeks were flushed from the wine or the cold wind. Nevertheless, his dark eyes looked at her so gently that the young princess never wanted to look into any other eyes again.
Jacaerys smiled and nodded. He cautiously lifted his hand and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He touched her cheek and gently stroked it with his thumb.
"I would take better care of you than they would, you know?" he said after a moment, his whisper lost in the whistle of the wind. Y/N heard his words clearly, just as she clearly heard the snort of disdain that came from somewhere to the side.
"I don't know which of you is more pathetic," Aegon said, looking at them with drunken eyes. He could barely stand, but his fists were clenched. Aemond remained silent, standing in the entrance and blocking it with his body. Unlike his brother, he didn't look drunk.
"What is your problem?" Y/N asked angrily, standing up. Unintentionally, she shielded Jacaerys with her body, who also rose from the bench.
"That you act like a complete whore," he spat through his teeth, causing Jacaerys to step around the girl to stand in her defense. She grabbed his hand and pulled him back when Aemond drew a dagger and stepped forward, defending his brother.
"Watch your words," Jacaerys said angrily. He didn't care that he was addressing the future king. In his eyes, Aegon wasn't worth anything, and he certainly didn't deserve to be Y/N's husband.
"Or what, bastard?" Aemond asked calmly, looking at him intently.
"We haven't done anything wrong," the young princess said sharply, though her voice trembled. She knew that her brothers were unlikely to hurt her, but she wasn't capable of protecting Jacaerys from both of them. She had only her hands, feet, and teeth at her disposal. "Get out of the way."
"Oh, really?" Aegon smiled. His drunken eyes were shiny from alcohol and dark-circled, his skin ashen. Even despite the fire of hatred burning in him, he didn't have a bit of a blush on his face. "I see a fucking dog clinging to my future wife."
"You wish she were your wife," Jacaerys said without thinking much about the words that left his mouth. Aegon lunged at him with his fists, to which the young Velaryon responded in kind. Aemond sheathed his dagger and grabbed Jacaerys by the shoulders, holding him and exposing him to Aegon's blows. In the commotion, the young princess managed to draw her brother's dagger and without hesitation, grabbed Aegon by the hair, pulling him back. With tears on her cheeks, she pressed the sword to his neck.
The four of them froze in place.
Aemond still held Jacaerys tightly, blood was trickling from his lip. Aegon's heart was pounding, not from fear but from adrenaline and, at that moment, also from excitement. His sister's small hand was firmly gripping his hair, forcing him to tilt his head back. Blood flowed from his broken nose, running down to his grinning lips.
"She's a dragon, see?" Aegon said, addressing Jacaerys. "You couldn't handle her, fool."
Y/N pushed her brother to the ground, releasing the dagger from her hands as well. She grabbed Jacaerys' hand and pulled him from Aemond's grasp, who would have lied if he said his sister's behavior didn't leave him speechless. In shock, he wasn't even able to oppose her.
"I'm so sorry," she began tearfully, pulling him away as far as possible from that place. "I should have killed them when I had the sword in my hand."
Jacaerys pulled her by the hand, causing her to turn around suddenly and fall into his arms. Without a word, he kissed her, feeling her salty tears mix with the blood from his split lip. Y/N returned the kiss but looked at him in shock. Jacaerys smiled warmly at her.
"Don't apologize to me," he whispered, cupping her cheeks in his hands. "You are a dragon, so be a dragon."
The pair didn't return to the feast. Instead, Y/N went with the young prince to his chambers. Jacaerys initially protested when she said she would help dress his wounds. Eventually, he agreed to her proposal, lying on the bed in just his trousers. The girl carefully cleaned his cuts, placing a cold compress on his abdomen. She sat beside him, looking at him tenderly.
"I'm so sorry, Jace," she whispered, squeezing his hand. The boy, however, seemed to be in a good mood.
"If every fight with them means I get to spend time with you, I'm ready to fight them every day."
The young princess smiled and shook her head at his words. She felt her heart swell when she was with him.
Their eager lips exchanged a few more kisses before Y/N quietly left his chamber, returning to her own. Helaena was still sleeping soundly, snoring softly. She lay on her side on her half of the bed, not even stirring when her sister began preparing for sleep. Dressed in a nightgown, she let her hair down and carefully combed it. She put the brush away and blew out the nearby candles, lying down on the bed.
As soon as she covered herself with the quilt, she felt someone sit on her, pressing her into the mattress, and a cold hand covered her mouth. The girl wanted to scream but felt a blade against her neck. The attacker leaned over her, his hair tickling her face. The young princess smelled alcohol.
"Every time you raise your hand against me," Aegon whispered, tightening his grip on the dagger's hilt, "I'll have one of your fingers cut off, understood?"
Y/N squeezed her eyes shut and nodded. For the first time in her life, Aegon truly frightened her. She felt her heart leap into her throat.
"And that fucking Velaryon dog," he moved his hand from her mouth to her hair, gripping it tightly. "I never want to see him near you again."
"Aegon-" she whispered with difficulty, clutching his wrist to push him away. She felt herself running out of breath, and the cold blade pressed deeper into her skin.
"Is that clear?" he growled, pressing her harder into the pillows.
"Yes," she said tearfully.
A moment later, she felt her brother's alcohol-tainted lips forcefully and brutally kissing hers. Aegon stood up shortly after and left the sisters' chamber, closing the door behind him. In the darkness, the young princess found her sister's body and hugged her from behind, trying to suppress her tears. She was terrified.
How much she wished she could hide in Jacaerys's arms at that moment.
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ladyempty · 5 months
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Yandere Maegor, Daemon and Aegon I reaction to Reader running away and marrying someone else and having children?? Please 😭😭
° | This is a yandere work and may contain triggering behavior. I'm not in favor of that in real life. | ° | English is not my first language. |
Aegon I
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Aegon Targaryen I is the definition of a conqueror, courageous, intelligent and ambitious, with a friendly and captivating personality, easily lovable and admirable, but with few close friends. A certain air of enigma surrounded his figure, making people try to unravel him, attracted like moths by his light of monarchical dignity.
The king was comfortable and accustomed to sycophants, women dragging themselves for crumbs, or simply a single night in his bed. He was unfamiliar with something denied to him. He had "conqueror" in his name for a reason that went far beyond the submission of the other lords.
So it came as a complete shock when he was so bluntly denied when he approached you at one of the numerous banquets hosted by the royal family. At first, Aegon couldn't even process it, the features remained the same with a gentle smile and analyzing eyes and no words uttered. Like a person who was suddenly punched and in the first few seconds didn't understand or simply didn't know how to react. He just narrowed his purple eyes and watched you leave in an elegant bow.
The first time he was seriously denied, you hadn't done it to pique his interest, but rather to preserve your own honor, not wanting to be just another king's case knowing that he would return to Rhaenys at the end of the day. He admired this. If his plans were to push him away, you were not successful, you only made a dangerous obsession settle in your being.
He began to pursue you subtly, with gallant and courteous gestures, he urgently wanted to erase the first impression you had of him. Forcing the Targaryen to reveal his personality beyond the superficial, rambling for countless hours about some common interest and constantly summoning his presence, whether to read to him while I work or simply enjoy his warm presence.
And when his barriers were still not lowered, the king had to resort to more drastic measures, asking for her hand in marriage and making it clear that he would not accept being denied.
You would be softer when you were a wife and had duties towards him. The conqueror thought wrongly. Never in a thousand lifetimes did he expect you to run away. As soon as he found out, Aegon simply went crazy, the image made up of himself falling down the moment he threatened to destroy the entire seven kingdoms again if he didn't get you back.
Stone by stone, leaf by leaf. Everything was meticulously investigated by the countless guards spreading even through the most forgotten places by the gods. The Targaryen king became somewhat paranoid and easily irritated by his disappearance, not even Rhaenys could calm him down or change his mind. It was two years of pure torment.
Ah... When he finally found you in a small house in pentos... Married and obviously pregnant... It was like the world was open beneath your feet again. A loving feeling of betrayal. How dare you? Did you think that pathetic man could love you more than him?! How stupid.
He coldly killed her husband and none of her tears and pleas could change his mind. His heart was partially darkened by his betrayal. He won't forget anytime soon, you'll have to regain his trust to have the slightest amount of freedom. Countless guards will follow you closely, if you are even allowed to leave your quarters.
And your son? Don't worry, Aegon will assume paternity of the child even if it comes with rumors about having deflowered you before the wedding. It didn't matter. He just wouldn't let you mother a bastard or have that other man as a part of your life. Aenys was his heir anyway.
Maegor, The Cruel
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You were certainly a very unlucky person to have caught the attention of the Targaryen king who was called cruel. You probably met at an event organized by him to celebrate one of his conquests, reaffirming his power and sovereignty as king, or you were one of his wives' ladies-in-waiting.
Whether you were from a big house, small house or even a commoner. It didn't matter. You were his the moment the king laid eyes on your enchanting figure.
Maegor was a man of few feelings, he didn't truly love any of his wives, it was lust mixed with the rational thought of creating heirs. But you were different, there was something special that made Maegor feel a bubbling sensation in his chest, a pleasant and addictive warmth like he had never felt before. It was something unfamiliar, one that he felt slightly hesitant to demonstrate or how to handle. But he just knew he wanted you and he would have you. At any cost.
Maegor was far from the definition of courteous, he knew little about the gallant arts or gentle love. Therefore, he had little knowledge about the courtship, the little he knew was from his mother's advice, who only knew about these things from the poets who surrounded Rhaenys.
Either way, he is not discreet. He doesn't even make an effort to appear less intimidating than he is. His eyes are fixed on you no matter the moment, his intimidating and darkening presence looming over you like a shadow. Once he even gave him a white fur coat, an animal he himself killed. It was his way of showing his interest. Something raw and rustic, without words, just proves to be worthy of you.
Either way, he wouldn't wait long. The moment he gets tired of waiting and the itch that grows in him is not relieved, he will attack. Demanding her hand in marriage from her, leaving no room for disagreement. He didn't expect you to run away in the middle of the night... Stupid little bird. Did you think he wouldn't come after you?
The man flew into a rage the moment he found out, destroying everything and everyone in his path, no matter if they were his wives, servants or important masters. Everyone should pay for his blinding rage. He turned the seven kingdoms into hell looking for you. A thick layer of blood, smoke, ash and corpse covering every corner of the kingdom.
And when he found you... Ah, dumb little bird, did he think he could hide for another year? Never.
He killed her husband the moment he saw the man, not even bothering to give him a painful death to pay for his crimes. He was as furious as a bull at the sight of any trace of red. He never thought about seriously hurting you, but he would have to punish you in a certain way to put you in your place. But his angry thoughts strayed the moment he caught sight of her swollen belly with a child.
A baby, that could and should be his. It was someone else's... It was an unforgivable betrayal. He could never fully forgive you. He would never forget or leave you alone for even a second.
He wouldn't kill the child, he would keep you away until you gave birth and then pretend that the child belonged to his lady-in-waiting, even if it was his child behind closed doors. It was a good way to keep tabs on you. Do you love your child? So better obey, you don't want something bad to happen, right?
Do not worry, dear. If you want to be a mother and wife so much, who would Maegor be to deny you that? You would be two things very soon.
Daemon Targaryen
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Daemon was never a man to love madly, he fell in love a few times. He rolled from bed to bed without a fixed commitment, just looking for momentary fun and vague pleasures. He indulged in his desires without shame. Bad luck for you to have been so captivating. He was hooked on you the moment their eyes met his.
Any slight affection he ever had for other women and men was forgotten. For you he felt love. Real love that went beyond lust. After all, he had never touched you intimately and he already had such overwhelming feelings.What was it if not love? You were his only thought.The first thought when waking up and the last when going to bed.
And Daemon had no intention of hiding his affection. His hands constantly find their way to your shoulders or start from your waist, a touch that lingers on a simple handshake and a look so intense that it would make anyone else tremble in fear.
As expected, rumors were created questioning his honor and how terrible the prince was. When his father went to confront him, Daemon just smiled mischievously and just said he would marry you. To everyone's great surprise, after all, the Targaryen had demonstrated his unhappiness during his first marriage.
But you weren't like that woman uglier than a sheep. You were perfect in every aspect and in the very definition of the word. Something to be admired every day.
It was a strong, stunning blow when you disappeared during the night, your maids only finding cold, wrinkled sheets when they went to wake you up that morning.
Where in the seven hell were you? He would find you... You couldn't run away.
He destroyed, killed, tortured and threatened. He spent days flying with Caraxes to every corner of the seven kingdoms just to find you. Unsuccessfully. A long year without having your favorite addiction... You.
He drowned himself in e wine while you were gone, nursing a bubbling rage and constantly exploding at everyone, scaring even Viserys, who thought he had seen the worst side of his brother.
But nothing lasts forever. He found you. He invaded your home in Essos without hesitation. He didn't kill your husband at first because his stunned mind simply refused to understand that you had betrayed him in such a disgusting way.
But the moment she saw the little newborn baby in her arms. He understood everything.The black sister ran through her pathetic husband without mercy, blood spatter staining his robes in small crimson droplets.The cold, darkened eyes like never before were directed at you.
For a moment you feared for the baby's life, placing the small bundle against your chest to protect it.
"Don't worry, I would never hurt our son." He smiles as he says each word slowly. He would legitimize that child as his and didn't care what he would say. A good way to keep you behaved and not tarnish his bloodline with bastards. Obviously he would love his own children more with you, but he wouldn't show it so openly. You're lucky the child looks so much like you…
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br0kenangel · 30 days
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𝐏𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓: 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘺 𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘯, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧.
˚꒰♡꒱‧ Hi there! Before you read this, this shot is not following the series time, it's just a especial shot for you to have a glance at their future. Hope you enjoy!
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The evening sun cast long shadows across the Great Hall of the Red Keep, where the court had gathered for a summons issued by King Viserys. The tension was palpable, the air thick with the anticipation of an impending confrontation. On one side of the hall, you stood, your gaze sharp and unwavering, with your sons, Aegon and Aemond, beside you. On the other stood Rhaenyra, her bastard children clinging to her skirts, their eyes wide with a mixture of fear and defiance.
Viserys paced the dais, his face a stormy mask of fury. His royal robes trailed behind him like a shadow, adding to the oppressive atmosphere. His anger had been ignited by a recent incident—a confrontation in which Aegon had brutally punished one of Rhaenyra’s bastards for mocking Aemond.
Aegon stood beside you, his face red and defiant, while Aemond, still shaken but resolute, clung to your side. The King’s voice echoed through the hall, a thunderous roar that made everyone flinch.
“Why did you attack that boy?” Viserys bellowed, his eyes blazing with fury as he fixed his gaze on Aegon.
Aegon looked up at his father, his chin held high despite the trembling in his voice. “He made fun of Aemond,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. “He said terrible things about him.”
Rhaenyra, standing with her bastards clutching at her skirts, shot a smug glance toward you. Her expression was one of malicious satisfaction, her gaze clearly relishing the turmoil unfolding before her.
The King’s rage was palpable. “So you took it upon yourself to act as judge and executioner? Is this how you are taught to handle insults? By violence?”
Before Aegon could respond, Viserys’s hand shot out, clearly intending to strike him. But you moved with swift, decisive action, placing yourself squarely between the King and your son. Your posture was rigid, your expression fierce.
“Stop,” you commanded, your voice a steely edge that cut through the King’s fury. “You will not lay a hand on him.”
Viserys’s eyes widened in surprise, his anger momentarily faltering. “And why should I not?” he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.
“Because Aegon did nothing wrong,” you replied, your tone unwavering. “He defended his brother from a child who deserved punishment. Her bastards should be the ones to be ashamed, not my son.”
The hall fell silent, the tension hanging heavy in the air. Rhaenyra’s smugness faltered, her eyes flicking between her own children and you. The King’s face twisted with both anger and confusion.
“How dare you speak to me in this manner?” Viserys roared. “Are you suggesting that I am blind to the truth? That my own daughter and her children are to be shunned while your sons are treated as paragons of virtue?”
“They are your sons!” You faced Viserys with unyielding resolve. “You may choose to be blind, but I am not. Rhaenyra’s children are the ones who instigate and mock. My sons are merely defending themselves. And if you choose to punish them for that, it is you who are blinded by favoritism and false loyalties.”
Viserys’s eyes flared with indignation. “Watch your tongue, Y/N. Such words are treasonous, and I will not tolerate them.”
“Cut my tongue if you must,” you declared, your voice rising in defiance. “But you cannot blind people like you are blinded by Rhaenyra’s lies and deceit. Rhaenyra is the one who bears bastards, and it is she who should be held accountable, not my children.”
The hall was filled with a stunned silence, broken only by the soft, nervous whispers of courtiers and servants. Viserys’s face grew red with rage, but before he could respond, you continued.
“I will not stand idly by while my children are mistreated. You want to punish Aegon for protecting his brother? Then do so. But know that in my eyes, you are as much a part of the problem as Rhaenyra’s misdeeds.”
Viserys, caught between his anger and the startling boldness of your words, struggled to find a response. He looked at Rhaenyra, whose face had now twisted into an expression of barely concealed outrage.
“Enough!” Viserys finally bellowed, his voice echoing off the walls. “This matter will be dealt with as I see fit. And if any further insults or violence occur, there will be consequences.”
You met his gaze, your expression resolute. “I will not back down from protecting my children, even if it means facing your wrath.”
Viserys’s face softened slightly, but only in the sense of weary resignation. He turned his attention to Rhaenyra. “Get your children under control. If there is another incident like this, it will be dealt with harshly.”
Rhaenyra’s lips curled in a sneer, but she knew better than to argue further. She gathered her children, her eyes shooting daggers at you as she left the hall.
As the court dispersed, you gathered Aegon and Aemond close, your protective instincts in full force. You kissed both of them on the forehead, your eyes filled with both love and a fierce determination.
“Do not worry,” you whispered. “No matter what happens, I will always be here to protect you. You did nothing wrong, and you never should have to apologize for defending each other.”
Aegon and Aemond nodded, their expressions a mixture of relief and lingering unease. You led them out of the hall, your heart heavy but your resolve unshaken. For you, there was no higher calling than the protection of your children, and you would let nothing—neither court politics nor royal indignation—stand in the way of their safety and happiness.
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Part 1 ♡ Part 2 ♡ Part 4 ♡ Part 5 ♡ Part 6
@ 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.
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divinesolas · 3 months
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Hi, could you do an Aemond one shot where he and Reader (Rhaenyra's bastard daughter) are husband and wife and she and Aemond are married, based on the first episode of season 2 where instead of killing Aegon's son, kill the reader's son and aemond
a.n: hi hi ty for the request 🫶 i had a little too much fun writing this, this probably isnt what you wanted this is not a happy fic but i still hope you enjoy regardless 🫶🫶 slightly inspired by the events of ep two
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Despite the halls of the keep being pure chaos everyone swiftly moved out of the way for the one eyed prince who rushed through the halls seeking out the one who he knew needed him.
They had been in his room. They wanted him. But they must have left his room when they knew he was not there and stumbled their way into the nursery which was attached to his room where his son had been. His son. his only child. and he was furious.
The door to the council room slams open and otto swiftly turns to look and stand before him, “where have you been-“ otto is shoved out of his way as he goes to kneel next to his sobbing wife on the floor who was clutching a blanket on the floor.
You look at him with red eyes and choke out his name, he grabs your face in his hands and looks upon you for a moment before you throw yourself into his arms. Shoving your head in his neck to breathe in his scent, to feel his pulse, make sure he’s real.
“they killed our son.” your words come out choked in between your sobs and he strokes up and down your back, “i tried to offer them anything, gold, myself, but they only wanted him aemond only him.” he shushes you and pressed a kiss against your temple, speaking into your ear. “Im sorry my love im sorry.”
He will return the pain they have brought to not only himself but worst of all to his wife and he will pay it tenfold. A lone tear streaks down his face as you say nothing more merely continue to sob into him while the other faces in the room can only merely watch with sorrow.
He picks you up, making sure to keep the blanket firmly in your grasp as he turns to leave the room ignoring the voices calling after him. They must want to discuss what they plan to do now but he wants no part in it, only wanting to comfort his wife.
“they were saying they want to blame my mother.” You had calmed down at some point, still delirious with grief but you had stopped crying, merely staring blankly up at the ceiling as aemond kept you firmly next to him. “she would never do a thing like this. my mother loves me, why would she send someone out for my son.”
Aemond is quiet and his hand on your back falters for a moment, “she wishes to punish me.” you say nothing but he notices how you shift ever so slightly.
With the way you two were right now nobody could tell the two of you have not spoken in those fourteen days since his return when he broke the news to the court. When he broke the news to you. Your own brother murdered in cold blood.
You could never forgive him despite his attempts to talk to you after, you swiftly dismissed him and his words would fall on deaf ears. Your baby brother was everything to you, you remember growing up side by aide and he was teary eyed the day you permanently moved to the keep.
despite your hatred for him and your hatred for your mothers usurpation you cannot go home. The people here watch you like a hawk you cannot even send a letter out to her but alicent is free to beg and plead to her like a pathetic dog. you hate them. Yet you allow him to comfort you because you know you will get no comfort from anyone else here.
“they wish to flaunt me around like a prized lamb. ‘gain sympathy from the houses.’ he says.” You ignore his words and continue to speak. “I will not allow it.” you shrug mindlessly and sit up, he stays laying down. His eye patch off and hair down from its usually prime and perfect state, he had thrown his shirt off at some point too.
You can see it, the hurt that laces his eye and his face, his hand finds yours and you want to rip it away but you cant, the warmth on your skin bringing you a small sense of comfort.
“i had thought we would work. That you would finally move on and forgive grievances of the past. But i hate you just as you hate me aemond,” “i do not hate you. i love you.” you shake your head as he says it, sitting up and gripping your arms tightly, trying to hold your gaze as he says it again.
“i will never forgive you. I will hate you for as long as a breathe.”
“i did not mean to i lost my temper that day.”
“you feeling sorry means nothing to me you know that. how would you feel if the men who murdered our son came in here and said they were sorry., that they didn’t mean to.”
He says your name and his grip tightens on your arms but you continue to merely stare off mindlessly.
“i will repent for the rest of my life. our son will be brought justice.”
he will kill every man in the keep if he has to, slay every man in all of westeros if they cannot figure out who had done it. For you. for his son.
“i love you.” the words come out strained as he begs and pleads to anyone who is willing to listen to him for you to say something else anything to him.
you do. you finally look at him. a look devoid of any love you had once had for him. and it kills him.
“you’re pathetic.”
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nebulaafterdark · 2 months
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The Blacks & The Greens
Summary: A marriage of convenience is not enough to bridge the gap between their warring houses. Y/N and Aegon pay the price for his crown. Based off this request.
Aegon Targaryen x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader
18+ ONLY MDNI
Roughish sex, Targcest, angst, depictions of stillbirth.
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Y/N and Aegon marry out of convenience. To keep peace, to mend a house broken long before they were born.
Aegon does not mind bedding her, she is pretty enough. He does not mind watching her swell with his heir, he enjoys it even, paying special attention to Y/N as she grows.
“Does it hurt?” He wonders, tracing a little hand or foot across the skin of her abdomen.
“No,” Y/N smiles, passing a hand over his hair.
Aegon kisses her bump, bidding her and his child a good night before making his way down to the pleasure house.
Their first child, a son named Laenor, is Aegon’s pride and joy. His heart swells with something close to love for his wife, the first time he sees bits of her in their son’s features.
Y/N loves Laenor, carrying him about, showing him the Red Keep and all her favorite places in it. Aegon joins them, on occasion, sharing quiet moments with his little family.
Outside of Laenor, they exchange few words. Refusing to share apartments, but Aegon sneaks into her room more often than not, after nights spent in the company of other women.
“I could never fuck you like that.” He tells his wife, words slurred from his cups.
“I would let you.” Y/N assures him.
“You make my heart ache.” Aegon admits, “I hate when you do that.”
“I do not mean to,” Y/N sighs.
Aegon rests a hand over her beating heart. “I know.”
————————————————————————
When asked for another heir, they are more than happy to provide. Exchanging sloppy kisses and sweet words, but never love, it couldn’t be love. Not with the twisted, possessive way of it.
“Beg,” Aegon demands, fucking her roughly enough that air is punched from her lungs with each snap of his hips.
“Please,” Y/N wails, clinging to him desperately.
“Please what?”
“Fill me with your heir, I wish to bear you a hundred children.”
Aegon grins, brushing sweat damp hair from her forehead. “I adore you, you know?”
Her eyes shoot open, meeting his.
“My pretty, bastard wife.”
The princess’s breath hitches, her cunt clenching around him.
“Enjoyed that, did you?”
There is no point in denying it, she likes the way he says it. The way he acknowledges it without insulting her. “Yes.”
“I do not care who sired you. You are mine now, bastard. Mine to fuck and breed. Mine to love, until we are both cold in our graves.”
Love? “Aegon?”
“You heard me well and clear.”
“I love-”
Aegon seals his mouth over hers, swallowing the words. “Don’t you dare say it.”
“Why?” Y/N asks, with big fat tears welling up in her eyes.
“You hold it inside until you burst or pour it over my cock as you milk me, but you do not say it.” Aegon sneers. He couldn’t be loved, he wouldn’t be, by her least of all.
The princess nods, allowing him to cradle her head against his shoulder. Whispering those forbidden words over and over, while she is never allowed to speak them. Her heart aches.
Like every other aspect of their marriage, this too is complicated.
————————————————————————-
Y/N’s term is nearing its end when her grandsire passes and Aegon is forced to usurp her mother’s throne. With blood running down her legs before Aegon is crowned in the dragon pit, she is rushed swiftly away to labor in her chambers.
Now that Aegon is king, he is allowed at her side without contest. Watching as their second child is brought into the world. The babe does not cry, something inside him knows….
The grand Maester is called to work on the child, a sweet little girl with silver hair.
Y/N begins pushing with the second, her tear stained face pleading for him.
Aegon goes to her, because that is all he knows how to do. He goes to her and holds her hand.
“Aegon,” she cries.
“Shhhh,” he hushes her.
“Will the babe live?”
He presses a kiss to her forehead, “I need you to calm yourself, dearest.”
“I can’t.”
“We must focus on this babe,” Aegon brushes a hand over her belly. “They need their mother to provide them safe passage into the world.”
“I want to see her.” Y/N cries, searching for her child.
“I am so sorry, sweetheart.” Aegon says, “so terribly sorry.”
Y/N bares down, sobbing as she does. The child is safe within her, the same cannot be said after it enters this cruel world. “I do not want to lose my child.”
“I will give you another,” Aegon promises, knowing that a thousand children can never make up for the one they’ve lost. “As many as you wish. Please, allow me to get you through this. You must live, our son needs you, I need you.”
“You must keep pushing my queen.”
Y/N brings her third child into the world, expecting the worst. But the little girl cries.
“Thank the gods,” Aegon lets his head fall against his wife’s chest. “Thank the gods.”
The child is laid against her.
“Healthy?”
“Kicking like a goat, my Queen.”
Aegon looks to his wife, their perfect babe in her arms. “I love you.”
Y/N nods, choking on her grief and joy and love for him.
“Say it, my heart.” Aegon feels it on the tip of her tongue, “it’s alright.”
“I love you,” Y/N laments, “I love you and I’m sorry.”
“You’ve nothing to apologize for.”
“Our babe-”
“None of this is your fault. Please know that.”
Y/N nods, not entirely convinced.
The King and Queen spend days in that bed, mourning their loss, unaware of Rhaenyra’s similar suffering across the sea.
There is no war so hateful as a war between kin, they will all pay the price for it; the Blacks and the Greens.
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toji-sweetheart · 1 month
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tags: 18+ only content - mdni + pregnant fem reader + explicit smut + soft! Toji + repost
You enjoyed being pregnant thoroughly, it seemed that it was a very easy one, the morning sickness didn't last for long but you for sure were more sensitive and emotional and the further you got along the worse it got until it felt like all you did was cry over something small.
Toji would come home after work to hear you sniffling as you settled on the couch with a bowl balanced on your belly that was swollen and round with twins, a boy, and a girl who loved to kick like crazy.
As soon as he was over the threshold in the living room he was by your side rubbing your stomach leaning down to pepper his unborn babies in kisses before meeting your lips in a slow kiss. "Hi, baby."
You couldn't help but feel the warmth that spread across your face as he paid attention to you before he perched next to you. "Hi, I missed you so much. Dinner is in the oven for you." You told him softly nuzzling into him before moving to get up before he stopped you.
"Missed you too darlin' and I told you not to cook nothin' for me, you're carrying my babies so you need to take it easy woman." He grumbled appreciating the work you put in for him nonetheless.
He gave you another soft kiss before he disappeared into the kitchen groaning when he could smell his favorite, meat and offal which he brought back to the couch where he sat next to you letting you feed him despite his protesting he loved it when you did these things.
It showed that you cared for him. "I'm pregnant, I can still get up and do things." You told him before resting your head on his shoulder snuggling into him as you both watched TV, the commercials showed off a pair of models making you shift in your seat uncomfortably.
They were beautiful and didn't look like a cow you thought to yourself, and while you loved being pregnant you really didn't feel the prettiest with a round swollen belly, breasts that leaked milk, swollen ankles and you were beyond sensitive, physically and emotionally.
Toji took notice of your demeanor when you sighed.
"What's the matter?" He husked letting his hand drift down to your stomach rubbing the spot where he could see his son kicking, his foot pressing into you. You watched him unsure what to say at first.
He curled his finger under your chin tilting your head back when he looked at you, his eyes narrowed slightly. "Talk to me sweetheart, that's what I'm here for, mhm?" His voice was soft as he spoke to you.
Tears glistened in the corner of your eyes as you stared at him before bursting into tears. "I know I'm not pretty anymore and I'm-" You were silenced with a kiss that took away your breath when you pulled back.
"Let's go to the bedroom. I'll show you just how pretty you are." His tone held no room for argument as he got off the couch before helping you up, his hand on your lower back as he guided you down the hallway and into your shared room where he turned the lights on.
Any of your protests were hushed with more kisses as he helped you settle onto the bed which dipped with the combined weight, his breath fanned against you as he untied your robe. "You are the most drop-dead gorgeous woman to exist who is carryin' my babies, I'm one lucky bastard to even look at you let alone touch your sweet body, kiss those pretty lips, caress your beautiful breasts." He husked.
You were unable to look at him as heat coursed through your face until it tinged your entire being while his eyes took in your bare body that was displayed for him. He deftly spread your legs wide open to lean in and inhale your musk before he kissed your pussy slowly.
His hands roamed your body as he continued to lavish you in love and open-mouthed kisses as he made out with your cunt until it looked like glass. "So perfect, and you're all mine. I won't let you talk about yourself like this, say you're beautiful or I won't let you cum."
Toji would no doubt leave you here until you muttered those words with conviction. Your eyes shifted to look at him between your legs as he pushed two thick fingers inside you with a soft wet squelch. "Well? I'm waiting." He murmured leaning in again to taste you.
Your fingers curled into his hair as you rolled your hips the best you could. "I'm beautiful." You uttered and huffed when he pulled away to tug the belt through his loops as he continued to finger fuck you.
"Yes, you are." He replied with a smug grin as he sucked your clit into his mouth before letting go with a wet pop before he was shedding his pants and boxers letting them pool around his knees, he was getting impatient and wanted to feel your cunt snug around him.
Toji cradled the back of your head as he hunched over you careful to keep his weight off you as he stroked in and out building you to that pleasurable height only he could take you to. "Toji! Feels so good!"
He couldn't help but smile as he slowed the pace letting you feel every inch. "Feel how hard you make me? You're my sweet and pretty wife carrying our son and daughter, you do so much for me so let me take care of you, yeah? Be a good girl and cum on my cock." He urged you softly peppering your face with light kisses.
His words swirled in your head as you absorbed his praise feeling your climax burst open, your pussy milking Toji as you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck listening to him whisper sweet nothings in your ear as he finally reached his own peak.
You clung to him as he waited for the both of you to come down from the high, his hands roaming your body praising each inch and telling you his favorite parts until you were sobbing in his arms only for him to shush you with more sweet words and kisses that left you dizzy.
feedback such as comments and reblogs are highly appreciated, those kind words mean a lot and encourage me to do more writing ♡
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flowerandblood · 2 months
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The Price of Pride (1/?)
[ canon • Aemond x Royce • female ]
[ warnings: the angst, kidnapping and imprisonment, abuse of power, violence, panic attack ]
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[ description: Prince Aemond finds a solution to the disproportion in the number of dragons between Dragonstone and King's Landing: he decides to find dragon blood and, like his half-sister, train dragon riders. He takes as his target the daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce, whom he abducts and imprisons in the Red Keep. Slow burn, darkish, insolent, arrogant Aemond. I have combined several requests here: (dragon blood female & prisoner female). ]
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
Next chapters: Masterlist
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It took him a long time to bring her to the Red Keep. Too long, to his frustration – while Aegon on his throne preferred to loudly announce to his subjects things he could not provide for them, he acted in silence, trying to ensure that he was always one step ahead of their sister-whore.
When Larys Strong's spies reported to them that Rhaenyra was seeking dragon seed among the bastards in King's Landing his brother laughed, but he, their mother and all the lords were horrified.
This meant that the slight advantage Vhagar had given them was going to be in vain, as she stood no chance in a confrontation with so many dragons.
Helaena was riding Dreamfyre, but at his words to move into battle with him she covered her ears and turned her head away, saying she would never burn anyone. Daeron's dragon was still too small, so that left him and Aegon, who was the King and could not die, on the battlefield.
That was not enough.
And then it dawned on him.
Rhea Royce must have been devastated after learning that her hated husband's seed had taken root in her womb. The whole kingdom knew that she and his uncle loathed each other sincerely, and while he stayed in King's Landing, she remained in Runestone.
He thought she certainly felt satisfaction when she gave him a daughter, although the Rough Prince wanted a son.
According to rumour, she was born accompanied by her mother's loud groans a few months apart after his own birth, and was supposed to be the reason Daemon waited with murdering her mother: he did not want the burden of caring for a newborn child to fall on him.
Though he would never admit it out loud, of the many lords or bastards born of dragon seed, his choice was guided not only by her close kinship to their family, but also by the fact that having her by his side could be a humiliation to his uncle, a show of his strength, prudence and sheer malice.
Of how dangerous he was not only because of Vhagar.
He had prepared an ambush for her with reverence, through Strong's spy network weaving servants close to her into his plan.
He had no idea what kind of woman she was, whether or not she resisted, whether or not she could wield a sword like her mother, but he received a letter weeks later that they had succeeded, and Daemon's daughter was heading for King's Landing against her will.
He felt a pleasant tingling in his fingertips at the thought of what he would be able to do with her: if he found her pretty and humble enough, if indeed she succeeded in taming a dragon, he could try to invalidate his betrothal to the Baratheon whore and allow her to receive the honour of bearing his heirs instead.
His own dragon inheritance.
When she finally arrived, she was, much to his mother's displeasure, placed in a dungeon – he wanted her to understand that her situation was serious and that any answer from her that did not satisfy him would end in one way.
Her death.
He went down to the underground with the guards and dismissed them when he stopped under her cell with the torch in his hand, its light exposed her face to him.
She was sitting on the ground with her knees tucked under her chin, her head raised towards him, the look of her eyes frustrated and grim, her dark brows arched in displeasure.
She was not afraid.
For now.
He looked at her figure from top to bottom, finding that he had imagined her differently: he had hoped to see any Targaryen features in her. However, her long hair was dark, her eyelashes long and black, like a fan surrounding her brown eyes, which were as big as those of a doe.
Clearly it was her mother's blood that prevailed, he thought with disappointment, however his face remained stony.
"Do you know who I am, woman?" He asked coldly, the corner of her mouth twitching, her gaze softening as if his words amused her, making him feel uneasy.
"It's hard not to guess." She replied without any pleasantries.
He licked his lower lip in a gesture of frustration, recognising that he would not allow himself to be verbally dominated by her.
He had to knock her off her guard.
"Do you understand why you're here?"
She sighed heavily, looking down at her fingers, suddenly tired and small, like a child who wanted to go to sleep already.
"Because of my father, I guess. You are wasting your time. I don't represent any value to him. He will not pact with you for my sake." She said, and he snorted, grinning broadly – she looked at him in surprise, as if she hadn't expected such a reaction from him.
"You are mistaken. We need your blood."
She shook her head, shocked by his words, raising her shoulders in a gesture as if trying to defend herself against what she just heard.
He liked the look of terror on her face, no doubt at the thought that they were about to cut her wrists open and drain her of blood like an animal.
"We will find one of the wild dragons hidden in the mountain caves and you will try to claim it. You will die, or you will succeed and join the war on our side." He said coldly, and she burst out laughing, as if she hadn't heard a greater foolishness in a long time, causing his jaw to clench in fury.
Stupid cunt.
"I know nothing about dragons or their riders and have no desire to learn about them. This, I think, is something that is destined for those endowed by the gods with white hair. I have no intention of sacrificing myself for your family. Behead me or burn me, but spare me this farce." She sneered, looking away, as if she thought she could get away with such impudent words.
She picked herself up and took a few steps back as he unlocked her cell and a moment later he was beside her, dropping the torch to the stone floor, grabbing her by the neck, her body and head hitting the wall hard.
He stared at her for a moment, listening to her heavy breath as if she was choking, panic in her big, brown eyes.
Fear suited her.
"Do you think I'm asking you for your opinion? You will serve me, and you will serve me well, or I will burn not you, but all of the fucking Vale. Only dust and ashes will be left of the people you knew. Is that what you want, my Lady?" He scoffed, and she shook her head quickly, her lower lip quivering all over, her small, soft hands clenched on his wrist.
He leaned over her, digging his fingers deeper into her delicate skin as if he wanted to break her neck.
"So we have an agreement, as I understand it?" He whispered, as if asking her a secret, something only he should hear.
Her eyebrows arched in pain, her plump lips parted in a deep, shuddering breath as she nodded, her warm gaze filled with pain and regret at the same time.
Was she now begging in her mind for her father to save her?
For him to come to her rescue?
The thought made him want to laugh.
"Mmm." He hummed, looking at her red eyes and full lips, feeling a strange kind of intimacy now that he could feel her veins, her blood, dragon's blood, pulsing under her bare skin.
Their shared heritage.
His seed was stronger than Daemon's, he thought with a confidence bordering on vanity.
Their children would have his white hair.
He felt arousal at that thought, his length pulsed softly in his breeches.
He let go of her, and she took a deep breath, sliding to the ground, clutching at her neck where he'd driven his fingers.
"You will be moved to one of the chambers. You will not lack anything. Serve me well and no more harm will befall you." He said in an offhand manner and simply left, satisfied with how childishly simple it was.
The women and their soft hearts, their despair at the thought that someone else might lose their life because of them, their eternal pondering and tenderness that made them so weak.
"I have heard of your success, brother. I was told we had a visitor in the Keep." Said Aegon, glancing at him, seated at the other end of the table, while his hand played with the marble green orb lying before him.
"Yes. She will obey us. I will personally prepare her." He said, resting his elbows on the table top.
The King laughed.
"You, brother? What does your beloved betrothed in Storm's End would say about it?" He sneered, glancing at the lords around them as if asking if his joke was in fact funny.
He grinned, trying to contain his anger and that familiar, unpleasant feeling of humiliation rippling through his chest.
"Who else would do this? You, with your superior knowledge of the language of Old Valyria will teach her commands and behaviour towards a wild dragon?" He asked, looking him straight in the eye.
His brother grew pale and swallowed hard, tense, feeling that he had lost this battle.
"Bring her in." He ordered.
Soon the door to the room opened, and she walked in, accompanied by the guards: she was wearing one of his mother's old brown gowns, its red sleeves reaching to the ground. Her hair was loose but not in disarray, falling gently down her back, as if she had not let any servant touch it and combed it herself.
"Come closer, cousin." Said Aegon with a smile, raising his hand and nodding, clearly wanting to encourage her.
She reluctantly took a few steps closer, looking around the assembled people anxiously, finally meeting his gaze – she stopped for a moment at his face, as if she was thinking hard about something, and then turned her head away, suddenly tired and resigned.
Good, he thought.
There was no need for her to stand up to him.
"We are overjoyed by your presence, even though you were brought here under not very pleasant circumstances. I hope you will quickly forget about these… discomforts and support us in our cause. My brother is extremely eager to prepare you for this." Aegon said, her lips twitching in a grimace that he didn't like when he mentioned him, but no words left her mouth.
"Are you not glad to face your father? Did he not forget you and abandon you for so many years?" Continued Aegon, their mother looked at him and shook her head, wanting him to stop.
She lifted her gaze to his brother-king and looked at him for a moment, her expression gentle and calm.
"I have nothing to say to you, cousin. Do with me what you wish."
A heavy, uncomfortable silence fell around them – he feared what Aegon would do with this insult – the fact that she had humiliated him by simply calling him her cousin, speaking to him without proper etiquette or manners.
Aegon pressed his lips together and leaned forward, as if thinking hard about something.
"Our family has forgotten you. Left you the fuck knows where, motherless and fatherless. And I am deeply sorry for it."
He looked at him shocked, not believing that he had said such a thing, apologised to her even though it was she who had offended him, and then looked at her face – her eyes turned red, her lips parted slightly, as if he had stuck a needle straight into her heart.
What was he doing?
Aegon spread himself comfortably in his chair with a loud creak of wood, smiling with satisfaction.
"You may leave."
He did not know why he had been furious all evening, why, bent over the maps of Westeros, planning his fucking war, he had been unable to focus or calm himself.
He knew why his brother had done it: he wanted to bond with her, to show him that he was the one she would obey, that he was in control of the situation, that he was the King.
"Bring our prisoner." He ordered loudly so that the servant who was just taking the tray from his table heard it.
"As you wish, Your Highness."
When she walked into his chamber she stopped immediately behind the door, which closed behind her with a loud clatter. He glanced up at her dispassionately and looked again at the books he had taken from his shelves, which he had often browsed through as a child.
This was his legacy, not hers.
But he had to do it.
"Come here. Sit down." He said dryly and after a moment he heard the rustling of her gown.
As she sat in the chair beside him he smelled her, some kind of oil that scented of field flowers, chamomile or daisies, and he thought that she had taken a bath.
Something in that thought, in the idea of her bare, soft body sunk in the warm water, made his manhood throb pleasantly, tingling heat spreading through his lower abdomen.
He moved one of the books towards her, open to the page on which was written what he wanted to discuss with her.
"Can you read?" He asked coldly, and she threw him a look from which he felt like grabbing her cheeks and shaking that little head of hers.
She didn't answer, which frustrated him even more, clutching the volume in her hands and leaning over it, following the text with her eyes.
So she could read, he thought mockingly.
"The dragons understand the language of Old Valyria, and this is how the dragon riders communicate with them. You have to learn to speak the commands properly." He sighed, running his hand over his face, feeling tired and discouraged.
"Dohaerās means serve. Rȳbās means listen. These are the most important words, right next to Lykirī, which commands a dragon to remain calm." He said, tilting his head back, closing his eyes. "Repeat."
Silence.
He pressed his lips together, opening his eyes, thinking he was about to kill her with his own hands.
He looked at her, wanting to hiss to her that he was going to slam her head against the table until she dutifully recited each of the words he was ordering her to repeat but his voice stuck in his throat when he saw the look on her face.
He had the impression that although she froze in stillness, her whole body was quivering, as if she was cold.
Her eyes were open wide in fear, and even though her lips were pressed into a thin line she was breathing heavily, as if she were suffocating, her fingers clenched on the back of the book.
Was it possible that she had heard these words before, had read a book similar to this?
Did Daemon try to teach her the language of Old Valyria when she was a child?
He didn't know what he should do, feeling that if he touched her she would just fall apart, so he merely looked at her, wondering how such a person was supposed to tame a dragon.
He rose from his seat as if burned, snapped out of his reverie when her eyes rolled back and she simply fainted, her body, numb and heavy slid to the floor beneath their feet.
He circled the table and knelt beside her, slapping his palm against her cheek in an attempt to revive her, but she did not wake up.
"Bring the Maester, quickly!" He called out and cursed loudly, restraining himself from screaming with rage.
"What have you done to her?" His mother hissed quietly, so that only he could hear it while the Maester examined her.
He turned his face away and shook his head, wondering if everyone in this damned fortress was against him.
After all, he was doing this for them.
For their family.
"Nothing. She was only supposed to read a few words. I didn't even touch her." He growled, his hands intertwined behind his back clenched into a fist.
Why didn't she trust him?
Why was she looking at him like this, as if she didn't recognise him?
Hadn't he always been faithful to her?
"What words? What did you say to her?"
"Words in Old Valyrian, nothing more. She must learn it if she is not to burn in the dragon fire, and our efforts are not to be in vain." He scoffed impatiently.
"We do not know what Daemon did to her. Whether she saw her mother die."
"I don't care what he did to her or what she saw." He said, throwing her a look from which she froze. "We have an agreement and she knows what will happen if she doesn't fulfill it."
"What will happen? You'll burn the Vale?" Alicent asked with a sneer, and he pressed his lips together, feeling a terrible, piercing shame.
"She will stay in my care tonight. Don't go near her until she recovers." She told him and stepped around him.
He felt as if she had slapped him in the face so he left, not wanting anyone to see the burning tears of disappointment that had gathered under his eyelids.
He didn't let them flow.
He was not weak.
He was not like her.
He was not like Aegon.
He was not like his father.
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