Haven’t seen any posts from you in a while, I’ve missed you and your amazing writing!! Hope you’re doing okay❤️
hello my love!!!! thank you so much for sending this ask, it is the sweetest thing ever!!! it makes me happy to know you enjoy my content to the point you notice my absence and miss me! 🥹🥹🥹
i've really been mia this past month, and i don't even have a proper excuse, just haven't been in the mood to read or write fanfiction these days. i'll come back though, i can promise you that!!! just a little break. not doing great right now but i'm managing, and that's what matters! again, thank you sm! ❤️❤️❤️
Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Reader (Past: Aemond Targaryen x Reader)
Rating: Explicit (18+ Minors DNI)
Summary: Aemond cuts you off after you accidentally confess your feelings to him, but Jace is there to pick up the pieces and teach you that you don’t have to hurt to love | Chapter Summary: The aftermath of Jace's the confession.
Tags/Warnings: AFAB Reader, Fluff, Smut, Fingering, P in V, Oral F Receiving, They are Insatiable Your Honor, Angst (LMK if I missed anything)
Word Count: 5.2k
Links: Chapter 4 | Chapter 6 (in progress) | Happier Masterlist | My Masterlist
Dividers by @saradika
It’s easy, falling back into your closeness with Jace, like the world suddenly righting itself after existing in previously unperceived disjointedness. The bustling city fades into the background, replaced by the tranquil sound of your paired footsteps on the pavement, the conversation ebbing and flowing effortlessly between you. And just like that, the weight of the day seems to melt away.
The moment he closes the door, you’re on him, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him into a kiss. Ever a slave to your whims, he indulges you, languidly moving his lips against yours. Time seems to slow as your lips meet. It feels like a great privilege being here with him, having the chance to savor each stolen breath and gentle caress. When he pulls away, your lips chase after him instinctively, earning you a smug smile in response.
“I’ll get you a change of clothes,” he proposes, “so you can get more comfortable.”
You raise your brow at him, “What’s the point when you’re just going to have to take it off anyway?” To reinforce your point, you start trailing kisses over his jaw, his neck, and that sliver of exposed skin on his chest.
“You’ve had a lot to drink, and so have I,” he points out, evidently frustrated with himself for even bringing it up, but still unable to let it go.
Your head snaps back up at his words. You try to stare him down, “Jace.”
But he only groans in response, and buries his face in your neck to escape your glare.
“Jacaerys,” you practically whine. Instead of capitulating to your pouting, however, he simply plants a kiss on your cheek and retreats to his room. “I’ll get you some clothes, okay?”
By The Seven, you hate him, and you hate his infuriatingly chivalrous ass.
Knowing all efforts to convince him otherwise would be futile, you stomp over to the bathroom in a huff. You take a quick shower, furiously rubbing your skin in frustration. You entertain the thought of relieving yourself just to take the edge off, but you find that the day has taken its toll and that you’re far too tired to even try. With a sigh, you haul yourself out of the shower, before drying off with a spare towel and wrapping it around yourself.
You find Jace in his room, and he shoots you a sheepish smile as you walk in. He’s changed into a pair of sweatpants sans a shirt, and has settled on on his side of the bed. You can feel his gaze tracing each curve of your exposed form, but you ignore him in favor of pulling on the shirt he’s laid out for you, before letting the towel drop. Without a word, you hang the towel on a chair, and slip into the covers with your back towards him. Deep down you know it’s unfair to be cross with him, but you can’t help it.
At your display, he lets out a huff of amusement before turning off the lights, and slotting himself behind you. Perhaps it’s petty to scoot away from him, but you’re very tipsy and, really, it’s his fault for being such a tease. But he doesn’t let you get far, wrapping his arms around you to pull you flush against his chest.
“Are you mad at me, princess?” He whispers, his hot breath grazing your cheek, while his hand runs soothingly over your bare thigh - still vexingly far from where you actually want his touch to be.
“I’m not,” you reply dismissively as you burrow further into the sheets.
“I think you are,” he concludes quietly, nosing your exposed neck. “I don’t like it when my favorite girl is upset.” Then, he presses an open mouthed kiss on your nape, sending a shiver down your spine. “How can I make it up to you? Hm?”
A whimper escapes your lips unbidden.
“Does my princess want to be touched?” His calloused palm begins its excruciatingly slow ascent up your leg, but he stops his path at the crease of your thigh, tracing the sensitive skin with his forefinger.
This is it. This is how you die, you think, your entire entire body tensing in anticipation. At this point you’re so pent up that you barely have the wherewithal not to beg. “Jace, please, please, please…”
“I want you to be sober when I fuck you,” he tells you, the leisurely tone in complete contrast to how each word sets you aflame. “I want you to remember every single moment of me making you mine, okay?”
You think you might actually cry. Never have you craved something so viscerally as you crave for Jace at this moment. A pitiful whine escapes your mouth.
“My poor girl,” he coos as he plants a kiss on your forehead, while his hand continues to caress your inner thigh. “But I’ll be nice and help you cum, do you want that, princess?”
You nod a bit too fervently, your hand coming up to clutch the firmness of his arm. He chuckles at your enthusiasm, before shamelessly cupping your cunt. That one point of contact is enough to eradicate all rational thought in your mind. The sound that leaves you is almost inhuman, as he begins to lazily trace his finger over your slit, coating his fingers in your wetness.
With practiced ease, he pulls you toward him, propping you over his chest and your leg on his thigh. He continues his leisurely ministrations, drinking in each sound that escapes your mouth. In that moment, it feels like the world outside this room has somehow blinked out of existence, and it’s just you and him, lost in this hazy bliss.
“You’re doing so well, Love,” he tells you, while he begins to circle your clit, steadfast in maintaining his slow pace. “You’ve been such a good, good girl, haven’t you?”
“Yes,” you pant, whilst turning your head to catch his lips with your own.
“For you,” you add between kisses, “Only for you.”
You feel him smile against your lips, and he rewards you by inserting a thick finger inside your wet heat. He groans at the sensation of your cunt around him, as if imagining what it would be like to have the tightness around his cock instead. He begins to press a second finger into you, and you can't help but squeal at the stretch.
“You’re taking my fingers so well,” he murmurs, as he targets that sweet spot inside of you. At this point you’re a babbling mess, relinquishing all control and completely melting at his touch. The only thing that could be heard in the blanket of silence is your helpless whimpers and the rhythmic squelching of your cunt. You’d have been embarrassed if you hadn’t been so completely far gone. He coaxes you with words of love as your peak builds inside you like a wave, gradually gaining form before washing over you all at once.
For a while you simply lay there, breathing him in, enjoying the warmth of his embrace. Then, he turns you so you’re lying on your side, with your head over his heart.
“Get some sleep,” he tells you, before pressing a kiss on top of your head. Your attempt to return the favor is met with him catching your wrist and nipping playfully at your fingers.
“Tomorrow,” he promises.
“Fine,” you mumble against his chest, letting the steady beat of his heart lull you to sleep.
You’re rudely awakened by some loud clanging from the kitchen. For a few seconds, you’re confused by the unfamiliar surroundings, but as soon as you see Jace’s curly mat of hair, you let out a breath of relief. Just to make sure the apartment isn’t being broken into, you begrudgingly roll out of the bed and pad into the kitchen.
There, you find Lucerys valiantly engaged in glorious battle with the stove. It seems he’s trying to cook some food, but has put too much oil into the overly heated pan, hence the lid he’s using as a makeshift shield. You take mercy on the poor boy and help him by lowering the heat, which lessens the sinister oil spitting of the pan.
“Oh, you’re here,” Luke says absentmindedly, and although bemused by your presence, makes no comment. Without further incident, the two of you manage to finish cooking breakfast. Before you can set aside some of the food for Jace, though, he himself bursts out of his room, looking panicked.
“Jace? You okay there?” You call his attention, half amused by his shenanigans.
Then he turns to you, wide eyed, and all the tension seems to leave his body. He closes the distance between you in a few strides, and wraps you in a tight hug, nuzzling your neck. Meanwhile, Luke makes a show of gagging in the background, the poor guy.
You laugh lightly, “What’s gotten into you?”
“I thought you left,” he mutters with an unbearably adorable pout on his face. Your heart breaks a little bit at his words. So, you cup his face with your hands, your thumb caressing his cheek.
“I wouldn’t do that to you, Jace,” you try to reassure him.
Wordlessly, he catches your lips in a kiss, and drags you back to the room, breakfast long forgotten. As soon as the door closes, and the risk of Luke being emotionally scarred by Jace’s amorous efforts are lessened, he begins trailing open-mouthed kisses down your neck. Once close enough, you push him down the bed, wasting no time in straddling his lap.
It’s an enchanting sight, him beneath you, curls strewn in lovely disarray, pupils blown wide with want, looking up at you with worship you’re not sure you deserve.
“It’s morning,” you tell him.
“It is,” he agrees breathily.
“I’m sober,” you add as you press down more intently against him, “you’re sober.”
“That’s true,” he concedes once more.
“I believe you promised to fuck me, to make me yours.”
When you begin undulating your hips against his growing hardness, he’s completely gone. A broken approximation of your name escapes from his lips as you continue your efforts. His grip is firm on your hip, fingers digging deliciously into your flesh, guiding you through the motions. His other hand finds its way beneath your shirt, making its way up to your hip, your waist, over your ribs, before finally cupping your breast, earning him a drawn out moan from you.
“You look gorgeous riding me,” he tells you, “like a goddess.” You blush at his flattery, completely caught off guard.
“Well, aren’t you the poet?” you chuckle.
“Only for you,” he says, “only for you.”
The sincerity in his voice does something to you, and suddenly it’s unbearable not to be kissing him at that moment, so you do. You lean over him, draping your body over his, to lock his lips with yours in a languid dance. Eventually, he flips you over without warning, and proceeds to roll his hips against your core. You understand what he meant as you look up at him now, leaning over you, muscular arms bracketing your head, abdominals rhythmically contracting as he moves sinfully against you. What a sight.
“Jace,” you plead, “I want you.”
“You have me,” he confesses with stark sincerity marking each word. Then, he sits back on his haunches, gradually pulling your shirt up over your breasts, completely exposing your body to him. The intensity in which he observes each centimeter of skin bared to him has you squirming nervously.
“You’re beautiful,” he breathes, looking at you like he can’t quite believe this is real.
“So are you,” you tell him genuinely. Even now, he paints a pretty picture, with the thin sheen of sweat on the toned planes of his body, glistening against the daylight. He only chuckles at your words.
Then, he begins leaving kisses all over your body, intent on worshiping every inch of you - over your neck, your chest, your stomach, and down your leg, but stopping just shy of your core. He rests his head on your inner thigh. His eyes are searching when he looks up at you, a cacophony of amber and chestnut made dark by desire.
“May I?”
“Yes,” you reply without missing a beat, “By the Seven, yes please.”
He plants a few exploratory licks upon your slit, groaning in pleasure at your taste. Then he methodically encircles your clit with his tongue, before taking it into his mouth. Your breath stutters at his ministrations, as your fingers find their way in his locks, wordlessly urging him for more.
In a matter of minutes, he reduces your entire being to a puddle of moans and whimpers. With great care, he inserts a finger into you, the glide of his skin against your inner walls, driving you insane. With how wet you are, it’s simple enough a task to insert another, and another. You strain against the stretch, but his mouth on your clit is enough to keep any discomfort at bay. He skillfully hits that rough patch inside of you with each thrust of his fingers, driving you closer and closer to the edge. With a strangled moan, your release rips through you, his name leaving your lips like a prayer.
As you come down your high, he moves back up the bed. He props himself using his forearm, as he initiates another deep, searing kiss. There’s a hint of your essence left on his tongue, and you groan against his lips at the taste.
“You did such a great job, princess,” he tells you in between kisses. “Such a good girl,” he adds as he tucks stray strands of hair behind your ear. “My sunshine.”
And in an instant your body tenses against him. He must’ve seen something on your expression, because he stops instantly, and looks down at you with concern. You try to focus on your breathing, relearning how to fill your lungs gradually one breath at a time.
Aemond used to call you sunshine, albeit always sarcastically, and only ever when he’s trying to rile you up. Sunshine and Sweet Girl were his. Somehow, it feels wrong to hear it now. You’re here with Jace, you have to remind yourself.
“Are you okay?” Jace cups your cheek to get you to look at him. And just like that, the ice that has suddenly materialized in your chest thaws in the face of his warmth.
“Don’t call me that,” you request, voice cracking, “anything but that.”
He frowns as he takes in your words, but nods understandingly nonetheless.
“Do you want to stop?” He asks.
You shake your head as you take his face in your palm, pressing your thumb on his bottom lip.
“I want you.”
A marked reluctance still mars his expression, but all protests die down his throat the moment you cup his length through his joggers. He visibly shivers as he watches you lick a stripe on your palm, before slipping it through his waistband to capture his length. You give him a few slow pumps, twisting your wrist as you go.
Impatiently, you push down his joggers, and the both of you share a laugh as he struggles to kick them off. Once he’s bare before you, you can help but take him in. You meant it when you said you find him beautiful. His cock is pretty too, you’re amused to note, and far larger than what you’re used to.
He slides his length against your slit, coating it with your wetness. You can’t help but moan at the delicious friction of his skin against your sensitive bud. He teases you like this for a few seconds, so you’re practically shaking in anticipation by the time he gradually pushes into you, the initial stretch a perfect mix of pain and pleasure. He rests his forehead on yours as if to ground himself, while your hand finds its way on his nape. He makes a few shallow thrusts, and sinks deeper with each one.
Once he’s fully seated within you, the both of you simply stay there, staring into each other's eyes. Words feel meaningless as you gaze into his molten orbs. No amount of poetry or prose could possibly capture the enormity of how you feel in that moment. If you are to forget everything else, all would be alright as long as you got to keep this one memory.
In all honesty, you didn’t think yourself capable of loving somebody like this, but here it is, unfurling uncontrollably within your chest.
“Are you ready?” He whispers against your lips.
You can only nod in response, as your hands seek to find purchase along the expanse of his back, pulling him impossibly closer. At your acquiescence , he begins his leisurely pace, rolling his hips deliberately into yours, and grinding against your clit in the process. The both of you go on like this for a while, until you feel that familiar wave building inside you.
Then, Jace increases his pace, pulling out almost all the way, before slamming back in. The first one shakes you to your core, and you don’t fare much better when the next one comes. Your leg hooks around his waist reflexively as you lose yourself in the overwhelming onslaught of sensations. Once again, he rests his forehead against yours, your deep heated breaths mingling in the sliver of distance separating you, as if it would be too much not to breathe the air you breathe.
You always thought that Making Love is such a dumb term, too damn cheesy for your taste, but there’s no other way to describe the way Jace takes you. Aemond would outright laugh at you if he’d heard your thoughts, and he’d tell you to call it what it is: Fucking.
But what else could this be, if not Love?
“Jace, I’m about to-“ your statement breaks off into a choked moan, as your peak rapidly builds inside of you. Jace, ever the gentleman, slides his hand between you to rub circles on your clit.
“Me too,” he grits out, “where should I..?”
“Inside,” you answer immediately, “I have an IUD, I want to feel you.”
He groans at your words, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he redoubles his efforts.
“Cum for me, princess. That’s it,” he breathes out, continuing his relentless onslaught. Helplessly, your legs shake from where they’re latched onto his waist, while your walls flutter around him uncontrollably. In an instant, your climax rips through you like a burst of blinding light. For a while, you feel as though you’re outside of yourself - you forget to breathe, forget what it means to be, and you’re simply reduced to exist in this moment to feel the sensation of Jace’s warm body moving against yours as he spills his seed inside of you.
He collapses beside you to avoid crushing you with his weight, and the both of you just try to catch your breath for a minute. You don’t even realize you’ve been crying until Jace wipes the tears from your eyes. He looks terrified as he pulls you over his chest, holding your face in his palms.
“Are you okay?” He inquires with a slight tremble in his voice. Do you regret it? Is left unasked.
“Yeah,” you rush to reassure him, “I’m just a bit overwhelmed.”
You kiss him once more, just a slow glide of your lips on his, equal parts for his reassurance and yours.
Once you’ve calmed down, the both of you emerge from the room to find Luke in front of the TV with headphones on, completely engrossed in a game of Fortnite. Small mercies. You and Jace share a smile at the sight, before proceeding to the kitchen to eat the now cold breakfast.
After, Jace bullies Luke into joining the two of you in a movie marathon, where you spend most of the afternoon on the couch draped over Jace like a blanket. By the end of the third movie, all the sweat and stickiness is starting to get to you, so you leave your comfortable perch with great reluctance.
“Mind if I take a shower?” You ask Jace, as you stretch out your arms over your head. He sits up almost immediately, wide eyes locked on you, reminiscent of an overly eager puppy.
“Can I come?” He requests with a suspiciously harmless tone.
“Why?” You ask with a knowing smirk on your lips
“I can help you wash your hair. I’ll even scrub your back,” he proposes, blinking at you innocently.
Predictably, Jace does a very poor job of helping you wash. He does, however, do a great job at fucking you against the shower wall until you scream in pleasure.
When you get out, Jace hands you another one of his shirts and a pair of cycling shorts to wear. You even go as far as to steal one of his sweaters to battle the chill. At this rate, you’re convinced you’re gonna end up pilfering his entire wardrobe by the end of the month.
When you’re done dressing, he looks you up and down, looking far too pleased. You raise your brow at him questioningly.
“You look good in my clothes,” he tells you simply, pulling you towards him by the waist. Then, his grip travels indecently lower, and he starts trailing kisses down your neck.
“We just showered,” you complain unconvincingly.
“We can shower again,” he replies, slotting his toned thigh in between your legs. Jace, you’re amused to note, can be very, very convincing when he puts his mind to it.
Eventually, the day comes to a close, and you have to go back to reality. Jace insists on driving you home, and since your legs are far too unstable to suffer public transportation, you take him up on his offer. He drives you to your apartment on his green G-wagon, his hand never leaving your thigh the entire ride.
Your goodbye kiss turns into another, and another, and another, and by some unknown force, he ends up with his seat reclined to the max with you straddling his lap. You’re already sore after all you’ve done today, but, really, one more for the road can’t hurt.
“Well, that happened,” you say with an unbelieving laugh once you’ve finished.
“It should keep happening,” Jace proposes very convincingly, as he nuzzles your neck.
“I wouldn’t be opposed to that,” you tell him, planting a chaste kiss on his lips.
Before you could make any definitive goodbyes, however, Jace's stomach rumbles, much to his chagrin. You invite him up for dinner, which is only fair after all the strenuous work he’s done for you, and he accepts
As best as you can, you try to fix your hair and clothes. There’s no fooling anyone, though. It’s completely obvious what you’ve been doing - Your hair is in complete disarray, your lips are puffed up, and love bites litter your neck.
When you come up to the apartment, Helaena greets the both of you with a beatific smile. She’s busy preparing dinner, so you leave Jace to help her, while you head to your room to get your phone charger. Except, you find your room already occupied, much to your surprise.
Aemond, the fucker, is there sitting on your bed with a book propped up on his infuriatingly long legs, looking at you as if you’re the one intruding. You close the door, because surely you must be hallucinating. Surely, when you open the door again, he will have disappeared into a cloud of smoke.
You peak through the door once more to find that, no, the ill-tempered silver-haired man is not, in fact, a figment of your imagination. He raises a brow at your antics, and opens his mouth to speak, but before he can say anything, you slam the door shut.
Instead, you pad over to Helaena, who is busy humming under her breath as she goes about her tasks in the kitchen. Jace, on the other hand, is occupied with cutting vegetables on the counter.
“Hel, Aemond is here,” you inquire as kindly as you can.
“Oh, yes,” she says simply, as if that alone is an answer.
“Why is he here?” You prompt further.
“Oh, I’m not sure I should say…” she trails off, lost in thought.
You purse your lips at her nonanswer, and take a deep breath to calm yourself.
“Why is he in my room?” You ask instead.
“He isn’t in a good headspace right now, and he needs someone,” she explains placatingly. “You know how he and Aegon are. Aeg isn’t really the best company to keep for that kind of thing, so I offered. I hope you don’t mind? I thought since you were off with Jace, I thought it would be fine? I’m sure Aemond won’t mind sleeping on the couch now that you’re here.”
“Oh,” you say, but in your head you mean:
‘Oh, my beautiful, painfully thoughtful friend, you have just unknowingly and royally screwed me over.’
At the mention of his name, Jace’s head snaps up, “Aemond’s here?”
You grunt in confirmation as you join him by the counter. He scrunches his nose in response.
“You guys don’t get along?” You ask curiously. He only gives you a look that says ‘nobody gets along with Aemond Targaryen.’
Except Helaena, you guess, but everyone loves Helaena.
You know you probably should’ve told Jace about Aemond, and you had every intention to do so. You just didn’t think you’d have to do it so soon after you just got together. You’re reasonably sure that Aemond won’t outright admit it in front of Helaena, but you don’t trust his temper, and his impulsiveness even less. At this point you’re just hoping for a chance to tell Jace yourself.
So you aren’t completely consumed by your anxiety, you busy yourself by taking some of the vegetables Helaena has laid out and begin to dice them furiously. It’s a wonder you don’t accidentally chop your hand off in your haste.
The dinner itself is a painfully tense affair, with the four of you sitting around the coffee table -slash- makeshift dining table in awkward silence. At least the food is good, you suppose. Helaena, on the other hand, is blissfully unaware of the tension, as she attempts to make small talk with all of you.
“So,” she begins, “how was your day?”
You and Jace share a conspiratorial look. You cough into your bowl, unsure how to phrase ‘Jace fucked my brains out, and made it so that I wouldn’t be able to walk properly for the next two days’ for polite company, so you simply say, “It was fun.”
Aemond scoffs, and mutters something under his breath, but you ignore him. You refuse to let his sourness ruin this day for you. In fact, you are hellbent on ignoring any barbs from him tonight.
You hate it when Aemond gets like this. Although you have no idea what brought this on, it can’t have been good considering how salty he’s being. Everytime he gets hurt, it’s like he can't help but lash out at everyone around him, always looking for a weak spot to dig his heel into, the asshole.
“Oh, do you have plans for break?” Hel asks you out of nowhere.
“No, not really. Break is too short to make buying tickets home worth it,” you explain between bites of food.
“Well, mom asked if you wanted to come with us,” she offers, “to Dragonstone.”
All you know about the place is that it’s a few hours away by boat, and that the siblings usually spend their time there in their vacation house.
“I’m not sure that’ll be wise,” you reply cautiously, suddenly unable to meet anyone’s eye.
At that Hel looks up from her bowl to peer at you with her wide eyed gaze. “Why not?”
“Why not indeed,” Aemond jibes in unhelpfully, and you have to resist the urge to throw your fork at him.
“I’ll be there,” Jace tells you in hopes of bribing you to come, but, really, that only makes things more complicated.
Ah, shit. This is a complete clusterfuck.
“I’ll think about it,” you tell Helaena just to get her to drop the topic. She gives you a smile, probably thinking she’s won you over, while Aemond broods menacingly in the corner.
“What about you Aem, you bringing Floris?” Jace asks innocuously. The ashen haired man stabs his food so forcefully, it’s a wonder he doesn’t crack his bowl.
“No,” he snaps, which in itself is a tell-tale sign to let it go.
You can’t tell whether Jace is being deliberately obtuse, or if he has a death sentence, because he continues, “Why not?”
Aemond gives Jace a distinct look, like he’s imagining Jace’s head on a spike, while Jace blinks at him in feigned innocence. The tense silence lasts until Helaena pointedly sets her bowl down to give them both a chastising look. These people will be the death of you, you lament in your mind.
After a while, Jace chooses to focus on you instead. He tells you about Dragonstone, and all his fond memories there in hopes of convincing you to go.
You rub your face in response, unsure how to proceed. Plus, although you’re no expert on the usual timeline when it comes to dating people seriously, you’re pretty sure it’s far too early to meet Jace’s mom. You tell him as much.
But he only shrugs, and says, “Mom’s cool, it’s okay.”
Which is all well and good until Aemond adds mockingly, “She, of all people, won’t judge who her bastard son sleeps around with.” His lips are curled into a smile, as if he hadn’t just insulted you, Jace and his Mom all in one breath.
Helaena looks at her brother in horror, as unable to fathom why Aemond would say such a thing, while Jace looks like he’s one sly remark away from punching Aemond in the face. This proves that Jace is definitively the better person between you two, because before you even realize what you’re doing, you’re already halfway up, with Aemond’s collar clutched tightly in your fist.
“Say that again, asshole,” you threaten.
“Or what?” He has the gall to dare you, “are you gonna hit me, sunshine?”
“How about I do you one better and strangle you to death, you insufferable prick!”
Only when Jace makes a choked noise do you realize what you’ve done. You let go of Aemond’s shirt like it has burnt you, before standing up abruptly, needing to distance yourself from the table as much as possible. Aemond has a smug look painted across his face, but before you can follow through with your urge to slap him, you turn to Jace and Helaena. Helaena’s horrified expression, and Jace’s look of utter confusion is enough to give you pause. You can sense the cogs furiously turning in Jace’s head, and you know he isn’t stupid. He’s bound to realize the implications sooner or later.
Congratulations, you think, you’ve ruined everything.
Note: so, what are your thoughts, guys? 😭
+What can i say? Aemond has a thing for ruining dinners.
+if u noticed the chapter count go up it’s bc I have a bad habit of never outlining my chapters so ur girl is struggling rn
+ praying for the lordt to give me power to finish this fic
+no beta so if u see any mistakes pls lmk
Tags: - @crazylokonugget @bellstwd @astrumark @zatarias-pandora @malynn @fictionalcomforts @brightlilith @watercolorskyy (lmk if you want to be removed or added 🫶🏽)
FIRST: JDJFKFKFKFKFGKFL NOT JACE AND READER FUCKING LIKE RABBITS 💀 my boy's stamina is unmatched, good for them!!! let's make up for the lost time. also, the smut is so fucking hot??? 😩 blushing like a slut fr. he's so ugh... not a want but a need.
the writing is so beautiful and on point and entertaining. plus aemond needs to be put in his place asap. can't wait to see him all miserable in dragonstone while reader thrives with her man. so happy we have one more chapter!
SUMMARY: you discover a new side of your husband, and it's exhilarating.
WARNINGS: fluff, smut, semi public sex, p in v, soft dom jace, dirty talk (praise), bondage, breeding kink, hair pulling, aftercare.
WC: 2.7K
"You are certain you can do this on your own?"
Jace sighed exasperated, although a playful smile crept across his face as well while he jumped out of the boat with enormous grace.
He looked excruciatingly charming today, his face flushed under the sun, and brazenly wearing only a thin white undershirt, the first three buttons undone and showing his chest.
"My sweet wife, I believe you have forgotten you have wed a Velaryon," He smirked. "What would become of me if I didn't know how to sail?"
"With all due respect, your brother gets seasick every time he's on a boat," Your eyes twinkled with amusement. "And he ought to be the head of the house one day."
Jace snorted jokingly. "We must be careful not to speak about it in front of him," He smiled mischievously. "It's a sensitive topic."
You laughed warmly, your whole body reverberating with it, and you glanced at the boat a few steps away from you. It was not extravagant, small, and made to travel shorter distances, the wood a reddish brown with an intrinsic seahorse carved into the bow.
It was his idea to spend the night on a boat, alone and away from the bustling castle, to unwind, he said. Your duties would not allow you to travel anytime soon, but a long boat ride could be just as enjoyable.
And that's how you found yourself at the docks, with food, blankets, books, and cards, all of which the prince had already stored on the boat a couple of minutes ago.
"Fortunately, I am not my brother." He continued to jest. "You have nothing to fear, my dear. Do you not trust your husband?"
You rolled your eyes at his exaggeration. "You know I do."
"Yes, because you did not hesitate for a second to fly with me on dragon-back," He moved closer to you, his arms wrapping around your waist, and your hands went to his neck. "What is the sea compared to the sky?"
"Just as dangerous." You quipped.
"Fair enough, but I will always keep you safe, whether in the sky, sea, or land."
Your heart leaped, a tingling warmth spreading from head to toe, and you averted your eyes, feeling too bashful. Jace chuckled, doubtless deeming you the most enchanting thing he ever had the privilege to see, and he couldn't help himself as he leaned in and locked your lips in a slow and loving peck.
"Lead the way, husband." You smiled shyly.
He grinned, not wasting a second to twirl you around and help you get into the boat. You giggled uncontrollably.
It's very captivating to watch him work, his sleeves rolled up and forearms flexing. He easily untied the ropes and pulled the anchor up, giving you quick explanations about how it is done, subtly proving to you he knew exactly what he was doing, a hint of a smug smile displayed when he looked at you.
Meanwhile, you also basked in the sun, it was an atypical hot day, the reason why your handmaids had chosen the lightest fabrics to dress you, and why your husband had taken off his tunic as soon as you two left the castle.
The fresh air nipped at your face, making your hair float, and it was more than welcome. You looked out at the vast blue sea while salt filled your lungs, mesmerized by the crash of the frothy waves. The bouncing of the water was, without a doubt, the most soothing sensation. For the longest time, you have always been delighted to travel, mostly because of the ships. An excitement many would consider childish, but that you could not help.
Jace hoisted the sail, adjusting it accordingly, and you offered to help. He was very patient with you, even if it meant taking a little bit longer and you were genuinely interested in learning, so much that you were beaming to see him steering it with the rudder. You didn't feel confident enough to try it out yourself yet, but you promised one day you would.
Fortunately for you, the sea was calm and the winds steady, and it didn't take long until he could leave the rudder aside to spend time with you, only using it occasionally to remain in the desired direction, and time flew.
Sometime in the late afternoon, Jace was reading, and you should've been too if only your eyes could concentrate on the pages of the book and not on him in front of you.
He looked stunning, the wind moved through his dark curls, his light brown eyes looked like a honey pool, his cheeks sun-kissed, and his nose had a few tiny freckles, his attractive hand was splayed across the book's cover, and the occasional bites on his beautiful plump lips along the frown of his eyebrows as he focused on whichever he was reading was too much.
You could never fathom your luck, not only marrying a prince, the future heir to the throne but such a handsome and dear one, who you were irrevocably in love with. Your chest clenched just by looking at him.
Motivated by a sudden craving, you crawled to his side, pressing yourself to him. Although a lot more inconvenient to read in this position, he didn't hesitate to hug your waist with one arm, placing the book on his thigh.
His scent, of mint and lavender, inundated you, and you kissed his jaw before hugging his waist back with both arms and laying your head on his shoulder, snuggling up to him.
"I love you." You muttered.
Jace's eyes flicked to you, his cheeks growing redder, but this time not because of the sun. He smiled, one of his teeth slightly crooked, which only added more charm to his appearance, alongside his dimple.
"I love you more." He said, resting his forehead on yours and brushing your noses, which made you chuckle.
But these words were never enough, the immensity of your love for him was terrifying. You desired him in the most primal and selfish way, wanted him to be all yours, although he already was, by all means: legally and intimately. You worried your hunger for him would never be satiable, as there was nothing else to claim, less you two merged. Or perhaps it would be enough if you carried a piece of him inside of you.
"I want to give you children," You said absently, staring at the side of his elongated nose. "Make you a father."
Jace grinned, his eyes twinkling with diversion, but his heart hammered. "You will."
"Hopefully soon." You smiled faintly at him.
"Attempts will certainly not be an issue for us."
You laughed and with the sun finally cooling down, you closed your eyes. The wind caressing your face and the peaceful sound of the sea quickly lulled you to sleep.
At night, when you were both lying down on thin blankets while stargazing, the sky full of shimmering stars and the moon a waxing gibbous, it was very unsurprising how rapidly you got distracted and found yourselves melting into each other, the kisses heated and desire slowly consuming you inch by inch.
His touches were feather-light and teasing as he undressed you, and the night air made you shiver. His kisses were full of appreciation and delicacy, his thumb stroking your cheek in the most genuine affection. In the short two moons following your wedding, the prince had always been extremely gentle and attentive when bedding you, and you truly cherished it, most of the time. But in that moment you needed more, and so you asked him not to be as careful, but rather rougher.
He looked at you as if you had grown a second head, getting on his knees and denying profusely at first, claiming he would never mistreat you, but the twitch of his cock and the wild glint in his eyes were undeniable. It took some time to fully convince him, reassuring him that you truly wanted it and would be just fine afterward, and creating a small code between the two of you to stop, in case it became too overwhelming, he seemed keener to accept.
"Please, you might as well break me and put me back together," You whispered against his lips and he swallowed hard. "You can do whatever you wish to me."
"Anything?" His voice was low and hoarse.
"Anything. I am your wife, I belong solely to you and no one else," Your hand softly played with one of your breasts provocatively, his lower lip caught in between his teeth as he watched. "I am all yours, husband, only yours, to be treated as you see fit, and nobody has a say in that."
Then, he snapped, brown orbs darkening considerably and jawline clenched. In a blink of an eye, there were no traces of your ever-so-kind Jace anymore. His hand found a fistful of your hair, tugging at it with no care, which made you wince and your scalp burn.
"Very well, you asked for it." He growled before harshly pushing you back to the blankets on your stomach. You gasped, your cunt throbbing at the unusual behavior and eyes widening as you noticed him grabbing three of the many ropes around the boat.
Jace pressed his knee to your lower back, locking you in place as he grabbed your arms and tied them up in the tightest and most impressive knots, his ability with it once again surprising you. But he didn't stop at your wrists, he bent your legs and tied each of your ankles to your upper thighs as well with different ropes, restraining you completely and lifting you to be on all fours for him.
You writhed in discomfort, your arms and legs already aching due to the uncomfortable position. Jace stared at you while pushing his breeches down, your glistening cunt exposed to him in the most beautiful and tantalizing way.
He slammed into you with no warning or preparation, not that your already wet entrance needed it. Loud and whiny moans immediately left your lips, his girth stretching you out spectacularly, and the new position was delirious, you were certain he had never reached this deep before.
Jace's thrusts were far from gentle, and along with the delicious sensation of his cock dragging against your walls there was also an unusual sting with how careless he was being with it. Which only made you grow more aroused.
"You look so perfect like this, my dear," He praised and you hummed, lost in the bliss you were feeling. "Fucking perfect."
He slapped your ass hard, his palm imprinted on your skin in a red mark. You gasped sharply as the pain licked your stomach, but all too soon it became a desire.
"Always taking my cock so well, squeezing me so wonderfully," He slapped the other side of your ass mercilessly, the noise it made strident and you winced once again. "This cunt was precisely made for me."
His sweet words paired up with his aggressiveness were making you wild, not moaning anymore, but rather screaming. Any boats nearby could've heard you, but your mind was blank with pleasure, not worrying about it. You barely held any control over your body at this point, way too blissed out.
The urge to move and hold onto something, but the complete inability to do so was cruel and incendiary, repulsion and adoration melded as one. It made you whine, your stomach churning and heart thundering, it was agonizing even, but you loved being so overpowered, so vulnerable underneath him.
Jace pounded into you almost beastly, growling and gripping your hips with an unnerving strength, his balls smacking against your ass. You tried to move, but you only hurt yourself, the ropes scratching your skin and burning you. Your eyes welled up, unable to differentiate pain from pleasure, and you bite your lips, focusing on the overflow of sentiments inside of you.
By being tied up all your senses became more heightened, and even the littlest brush on your skin dazzled you. Every sensation was worth a hundred ones, and you felt it all deep in your core. It was as wondrous as damning. The cool wind kissing your body, the lewd sounds, Jace's unwavering grip on you, the sting of his previous slaps, the burn on your wrists caused by the rope, his cock hitting your sweet spot repeatedly. You were slowly going mad.
Your cunt fluttered furiously, your skin burning and sweat dripping down your forehead. You barely realized you were sobbing, a heavy stream of tears wetting your face on its own accord as you could not help but cry and cry with such strong emotions provoked.
And in the midst of it all, there was also a small amount of gentleness your husband couldn't completely leave behind. Clear in how he brushed your sticky hair out of your face and cleaned your tears as he leaned over you slightly, although his pace continued as brutal as before, if not even more.
"Seven, aren't you just adorable?" He rasped in the shell of your ear. "You are being so nice to me, I might just fuck a pretty babe into you as a reward."
You groaned in delight at his words, your body was already shaking and your muscles sore. Jace went back to his initial position, pulling harshly at your hair and pounding into you relentlessly.
"Would you like that, sweet wife?" He chuckled smugly. You tried to answer, but you didn't find words, so you only nodded eagerly as you babbled. "Yes, I know you would."
He would too, the thought of your belly swollen with his child made him go feral and swell up with pride. The grip on your hair tightened and his thrusts became even faster and desperate, his eyes rolling to the back of his head and goosebumps arousing on his skin with the approaching release.
Jace came with a grunt, his hot and thick seed filling you to the brim. His heart pounded painfully in his ears, beads of sweat all over his body. Even when quite faint from his peak, his ruthless pace didn't falter. You getting to come as well was just as important to him, and you were pretty close by the clench of your cunt.
It's like you have been shattered into the tiniest fragments and banished to the void, your mind parting from your body and your whole existence ceasing for a moment. You believed you and the stars above have become one, and that even perhaps you had perished from too much pleasure.
You are reminded you are very alive when Jace gathered his spend dripping out of you. "If you want to be the mother of my children so desperately," He started before pushing two fingers back into your sensitive cunt, which made you whine and squirm. "We cannot waste a single drop."
And as simple as that you are conscious of your surroundings again, too aware of the salty air and the ripples of the waves. You were shivering so much your teeth chattered, and you panted as if you had run a thousand miles, your throat sore from the cries and eyes heavy due to the tears.
Jace deluged you with many caring pecks on the cheek before undoing the tight knots and turning your slack body over.
"You did so well," He praised as he softly kissed your bruised wrists as well. "My perfect little wife."
He caressed your damp hair before helping you to sit up, flushed against his chest. Jace cleaned you up with the hem of the blanket, for lack of a better option, and grabbed a waterskin near, bringing it to your lips and you didn't waste time to drink it enthusiastically, your chin getting wet as well.
"Are you alright?" He asked concerned, the waterskin soon being emptied.
You took a few deep breaths before answering him, your voice somewhat raspy from the screaming. "Yes," You leaned more into him. "That was… very intense."
"Indeed." He hugged your waist and you looked up at him, finally regaining your breath. Jace pressed his lips to yours in a long and chaste kiss. "You are the absolute love of my life," He brushed your face with his knuckles. "Don't ever forget."
"And you are my heart and soul." You smiled at him, who stared at you with immense adoration in his eyes as if you hung the moon and the stars.
Cuddling up, sleep does not find any of you, but instead you spent the night talking away, and got to watch a beautiful sunrise together.
SUMMARY: you discover a new side of your husband, and it's exhilarating.
WARNINGS: fluff, smut, semi public sex, p in v, soft dom jace, dirty talk (praise), bondage, breeding kink, hair pulling, aftercare.
WC: 2.7K
"You are certain you can do this on your own?"
Jace sighed exasperated, although a playful smile crept across his face as well while he jumped out of the boat with enormous grace.
He looked excruciatingly charming today, his face flushed under the sun, and brazenly wearing only a thin white undershirt, the first three buttons undone and showing his chest.
"My sweet wife, I believe you have forgotten you have wed a Velaryon," He smirked. "What would become of me if I didn't know how to sail?"
"With all due respect, your brother gets seasick every time he's on a boat," Your eyes twinkled with amusement. "And he ought to be the head of the house one day."
Jace snorted jokingly. "We must be careful not to speak about it in front of him," He smiled mischievously. "It's a sensitive topic."
You laughed warmly, your whole body reverberating with it, and you glanced at the boat a few steps away from you. It was not extravagant, small, and made to travel shorter distances, the wood a reddish brown with an intrinsic seahorse carved into the bow.
It was his idea to spend the night on a boat, alone and away from the bustling castle, to unwind, he said. Your duties would not allow you to travel anytime soon, but a long boat ride could be just as enjoyable.
And that's how you found yourself at the docks, with food, blankets, books, and cards, all of which the prince had already stored on the boat a couple of minutes ago.
"Fortunately, I am not my brother." He continued to jest. "You have nothing to fear, my dear. Do you not trust your husband?"
You rolled your eyes at his exaggeration. "You know I do."
"Yes, because you did not hesitate for a second to fly with me on dragon-back," He moved closer to you, his arms wrapping around your waist, and your hands went to his neck. "What is the sea compared to the sky?"
"Just as dangerous." You quipped.
"Fair enough, but I will always keep you safe, whether in the sky, sea, or land."
Your heart leaped, a tingling warmth spreading from head to toe, and you averted your eyes, feeling too bashful. Jace chuckled, doubtless deeming you the most enchanting thing he ever had the privilege to see, and he couldn't help himself as he leaned in and locked your lips in a slow and loving peck.
"Lead the way, husband." You smiled shyly.
He grinned, not wasting a second to twirl you around and help you get into the boat. You giggled uncontrollably.
It's very captivating to watch him work, his sleeves rolled up and forearms flexing. He easily untied the ropes and pulled the anchor up, giving you quick explanations about how it is done, subtly proving to you he knew exactly what he was doing, a hint of a smug smile displayed when he looked at you.
Meanwhile, you also basked in the sun, it was an atypical hot day, the reason why your handmaids had chosen the lightest fabrics to dress you, and why your husband had taken off his tunic as soon as you two left the castle.
The fresh air nipped at your face, making your hair float, and it was more than welcome. You looked out at the vast blue sea while salt filled your lungs, mesmerized by the crash of the frothy waves. The bouncing of the water was, without a doubt, the most soothing sensation. For the longest time, you have always been delighted to travel, mostly because of the ships. An excitement many would consider childish, but that you could not help.
Jace hoisted the sail, adjusting it accordingly, and you offered to help. He was very patient with you, even if it meant taking a little bit longer and you were genuinely interested in learning, so much that you were beaming to see him steering it with the rudder. You didn't feel confident enough to try it out yourself yet, but you promised one day you would.
Fortunately for you, the sea was calm and the winds steady, and it didn't take long until he could leave the rudder aside to spend time with you, only using it occasionally to remain in the desired direction, and time flew.
Sometime in the late afternoon, Jace was reading, and you should've been too if only your eyes could concentrate on the pages of the book and not on him in front of you.
He looked stunning, the wind moved through his dark curls, his light brown eyes looked like a honey pool, his cheeks sun-kissed, and his nose had a few tiny freckles, his attractive hand was splayed across the book's cover, and the occasional bites on his beautiful plump lips along the frown of his eyebrows as he focused on whichever he was reading was too much.
You could never fathom your luck, not only marrying a prince, the future heir to the throne but such a handsome and dear one, who you were irrevocably in love with. Your chest clenched just by looking at him.
Motivated by a sudden craving, you crawled to his side, pressing yourself to him. Although a lot more inconvenient to read in this position, he didn't hesitate to hug your waist with one arm, placing the book on his thigh.
His scent, of mint and lavender, inundated you, and you kissed his jaw before hugging his waist back with both arms and laying your head on his shoulder, snuggling up to him.
"I love you." You muttered.
Jace's eyes flicked to you, his cheeks growing redder, but this time not because of the sun. He smiled, one of his teeth slightly crooked, which only added more charm to his appearance, alongside his dimple.
"I love you more." He said, resting his forehead on yours and brushing your noses, which made you chuckle.
But these words were never enough, the immensity of your love for him was terrifying. You desired him in the most primal and selfish way, wanted him to be all yours, although he already was, by all means: legally and intimately. You worried your hunger for him would never be satiable, as there was nothing else to claim, less you two merged. Or perhaps it would be enough if you carried a piece of him inside of you.
"I want to give you children," You said absently, staring at the side of his elongated nose. "Make you a father."
Jace grinned, his eyes twinkling with diversion, but his heart hammered. "You will."
"Hopefully soon." You smiled faintly at him.
"Attempts will certainly not be an issue for us."
You laughed and with the sun finally cooling down, you closed your eyes. The wind caressing your face and the peaceful sound of the sea quickly lulled you to sleep.
At night, when you were both lying down on thin blankets while stargazing, the sky full of shimmering stars and the moon a waxing gibbous, it was very unsurprising how rapidly you got distracted and found yourselves melting into each other, the kisses heated and desire slowly consuming you inch by inch.
His touches were feather-light and teasing as he undressed you, and the night air made you shiver. His kisses were full of appreciation and delicacy, his thumb stroking your cheek in the most genuine affection. In the short two moons following your wedding, the prince had always been extremely gentle and attentive when bedding you, and you truly cherished it, most of the time. But in that moment you needed more, and so you asked him not to be as careful, but rather rougher.
He looked at you as if you had grown a second head, getting on his knees and denying profusely at first, claiming he would never mistreat you, but the twitch of his cock and the wild glint in his eyes were undeniable. It took some time to fully convince him, reassuring him that you truly wanted it and would be just fine afterward, and creating a small code between the two of you to stop, in case it became too overwhelming, he seemed keener to accept.
"Please, you might as well break me and put me back together," You whispered against his lips and he swallowed hard. "You can do whatever you wish to me."
"Anything?" His voice was low and hoarse.
"Anything. I am your wife, I belong solely to you and no one else," Your hand softly played with one of your breasts provocatively, his lower lip caught in between his teeth as he watched. "I am all yours, husband, only yours, to be treated as you see fit, and nobody has a say in that."
Then, he snapped, brown orbs darkening considerably and jawline clenched. In a blink of an eye, there were no traces of your ever-so-kind Jace anymore. His hand found a fistful of your hair, tugging at it with no care, which made you wince and your scalp burn.
"Very well, you asked for it." He growled before harshly pushing you back to the blankets on your stomach. You gasped, your cunt throbbing at the unusual behavior and eyes widening as you noticed him grabbing three of the many ropes around the boat.
Jace pressed his knee to your lower back, locking you in place as he grabbed your arms and tied them up in the tightest and most impressive knots, his ability with it once again surprising you. But he didn't stop at your wrists, he bent your legs and tied each of your ankles to your upper thighs as well with different ropes, restraining you completely and lifting you to be on all fours for him.
You writhed in discomfort, your arms and legs already aching due to the uncomfortable position. Jace stared at you while pushing his breeches down, your glistening cunt exposed to him in the most beautiful and tantalizing way.
He slammed into you with no warning or preparation, not that your already wet entrance needed it. Loud and whiny moans immediately left your lips, his girth stretching you out spectacularly, and the new position was delirious, you were certain he had never reached this deep before.
Jace's thrusts were far from gentle, and along with the delicious sensation of his cock dragging against your walls there was also an unusual sting with how careless he was being with it. Which only made you grow more aroused.
"You look so perfect like this, my dear," He praised and you hummed, lost in the bliss you were feeling. "Fucking perfect."
He slapped your ass hard, his palm imprinted on your skin in a red mark. You gasped sharply as the pain licked your stomach, but all too soon it became a desire.
"Always taking my cock so well, squeezing me so wonderfully," He slapped the other side of your ass mercilessly, the noise it made strident and you winced once again. "This cunt was precisely made for me."
His sweet words paired up with his aggressiveness were making you wild, not moaning anymore, but rather screaming. Any boats nearby could've heard you, but your mind was blank with pleasure, not worrying about it. You barely held any control over your body at this point, way too blissed out.
The urge to move and hold onto something, but the complete inability to do so was cruel and incendiary, repulsion and adoration melded as one. It made you whine, your stomach churning and heart thundering, it was agonizing even, but you loved being so overpowered, so vulnerable underneath him.
Jace pounded into you almost beastly, growling and gripping your hips with an unnerving strength, his balls smacking against your ass. You tried to move, but you only hurt yourself, the ropes scratching your skin and burning you. Your eyes welled up, unable to differentiate pain from pleasure, and you bite your lips, focusing on the overflow of sentiments inside of you.
By being tied up all your senses became more heightened, and even the littlest brush on your skin dazzled you. Every sensation was worth a hundred ones, and you felt it all deep in your core. It was as wondrous as damning. The cool wind kissing your body, the lewd sounds, Jace's unwavering grip on you, the sting of his previous slaps, the burn on your wrists caused by the rope, his cock hitting your sweet spot repeatedly. You were slowly going mad.
Your cunt fluttered furiously, your skin burning and sweat dripping down your forehead. You barely realized you were sobbing, a heavy stream of tears wetting your face on its own accord as you could not help but cry and cry with such strong emotions provoked.
And in the midst of it all, there was also a small amount of gentleness your husband couldn't completely leave behind. Clear in how he brushed your sticky hair out of your face and cleaned your tears as he leaned over you slightly, although his pace continued as brutal as before, if not even more.
"Seven, aren't you just adorable?" He rasped in the shell of your ear. "You are being so nice to me, I might just fuck a pretty babe into you as a reward."
You groaned in delight at his words, your body was already shaking and your muscles sore. Jace went back to his initial position, pulling harshly at your hair and pounding into you relentlessly.
"Would you like that, sweet wife?" He chuckled smugly. You tried to answer, but you didn't find words, so you only nodded eagerly as you babbled. "Yes, I know you would."
He would too, the thought of your belly swollen with his child made him go feral and swell up with pride. The grip on your hair tightened and his thrusts became even faster and desperate, his eyes rolling to the back of his head and goosebumps arousing on his skin with the approaching release.
Jace came with a grunt, his hot and thick seed filling you to the brim. His heart pounded painfully in his ears, beads of sweat all over his body. Even when quite faint from his peak, his ruthless pace didn't falter. You getting to come as well was just as important to him, and you were pretty close by the clench of your cunt.
It's like you have been shattered into the tiniest fragments and banished to the void, your mind parting from your body and your whole existence ceasing for a moment. You believed you and the stars above have become one, and that even perhaps you had perished from too much pleasure.
You are reminded you are very alive when Jace gathered his spend dripping out of you. "If you want to be the mother of my children so desperately," He started before pushing two fingers back into your sensitive cunt, which made you whine and squirm. "We cannot waste a single drop."
And as simple as that you are conscious of your surroundings again, too aware of the salty air and the ripples of the waves. You were shivering so much your teeth chattered, and you panted as if you had run a thousand miles, your throat sore from the cries and eyes heavy due to the tears.
Jace deluged you with many caring pecks on the cheek before undoing the tight knots and turning your slack body over.
"You did so well," He praised as he softly kissed your bruised wrists as well. "My perfect little wife."
He caressed your damp hair before helping you to sit up, flushed against his chest. Jace cleaned you up with the hem of the blanket, for lack of a better option, and grabbed a waterskin near, bringing it to your lips and you didn't waste time to drink it enthusiastically, your chin getting wet as well.
"Are you alright?" He asked concerned, the waterskin soon being emptied.
You took a few deep breaths before answering him, your voice somewhat raspy from the screaming. "Yes," You leaned more into him. "That was… very intense."
"Indeed." He hugged your waist and you looked up at him, finally regaining your breath. Jace pressed his lips to yours in a long and chaste kiss. "You are the absolute love of my life," He brushed your face with his knuckles. "Don't ever forget."
"And you are my heart and soul." You smiled at him, who stared at you with immense adoration in his eyes as if you hung the moon and the stars.
Cuddling up, sleep does not find any of you, but instead you spent the night talking away, and got to watch a beautiful sunrise together.
this was so hot oh my godd the aftercare too where he’s so gentle and the deep rooted inherent pride he wants wanting a baby with reader and continuing his legacy seeing her with child yeah 😖😵💫🥵
please add me to the tag list pretty please 🎀thank you for writing jace we really need more fics of this boy
omg brings me so much joy to know you liked it, thank you for the lovely comment!!! i'm always baffled at the lack of jace content out there, he truly deserves more attention! ❤️
SUMMARY: you discover a new side of your husband, and it's exhilarating.
WARNINGS: fluff, smut, semi public sex, p in v, soft dom jace, dirty talk (praise), bondage, breeding kink, hair pulling, aftercare.
WC: 2.7K
"You are certain you can do this on your own?"
Jace sighed exasperated, although a playful smile crept across his face as well while he jumped out of the boat with enormous grace.
He looked excruciatingly charming today, his face flushed under the sun, and brazenly wearing only a thin white undershirt, the first three buttons undone and showing his chest.
"My sweet wife, I believe you have forgotten you have wed a Velaryon," He smirked. "What would become of me if I didn't know how to sail?"
"With all due respect, your brother gets seasick every time he's on a boat," Your eyes twinkled with amusement. "And he ought to be the head of the house one day."
Jace snorted jokingly. "We must be careful not to speak about it in front of him," He smiled mischievously. "It's a sensitive topic."
You laughed warmly, your whole body reverberating with it, and you glanced at the boat a few steps away from you. It was not extravagant, small, and made to travel shorter distances, the wood a reddish brown with an intrinsic seahorse carved into the bow.
It was his idea to spend the night on a boat, alone and away from the bustling castle, to unwind, he said. Your duties would not allow you to travel anytime soon, but a long boat ride could be just as enjoyable.
And that's how you found yourself at the docks, with food, blankets, books, and cards, all of which the prince had already stored on the boat a couple of minutes ago.
"Fortunately, I am not my brother." He continued to jest. "You have nothing to fear, my dear. Do you not trust your husband?"
You rolled your eyes at his exaggeration. "You know I do."
"Yes, because you did not hesitate for a second to fly with me on dragon-back," He moved closer to you, his arms wrapping around your waist, and your hands went to his neck. "What is the sea compared to the sky?"
"Just as dangerous." You quipped.
"Fair enough, but I will always keep you safe, whether in the sky, sea, or land."
Your heart leaped, a tingling warmth spreading from head to toe, and you averted your eyes, feeling too bashful. Jace chuckled, doubtless deeming you the most enchanting thing he ever had the privilege to see, and he couldn't help himself as he leaned in and locked your lips in a slow and loving peck.
"Lead the way, husband." You smiled shyly.
He grinned, not wasting a second to twirl you around and help you get into the boat. You giggled uncontrollably.
It's very captivating to watch him work, his sleeves rolled up and forearms flexing. He easily untied the ropes and pulled the anchor up, giving you quick explanations about how it is done, subtly proving to you he knew exactly what he was doing, a hint of a smug smile displayed when he looked at you.
Meanwhile, you also basked in the sun, it was an atypical hot day, the reason why your handmaids had chosen the lightest fabrics to dress you, and why your husband had taken off his tunic as soon as you two left the castle.
The fresh air nipped at your face, making your hair float, and it was more than welcome. You looked out at the vast blue sea while salt filled your lungs, mesmerized by the crash of the frothy waves. The bouncing of the water was, without a doubt, the most soothing sensation. For the longest time, you have always been delighted to travel, mostly because of the ships. An excitement many would consider childish, but that you could not help.
Jace hoisted the sail, adjusting it accordingly, and you offered to help. He was very patient with you, even if it meant taking a little bit longer and you were genuinely interested in learning, so much that you were beaming to see him steering it with the rudder. You didn't feel confident enough to try it out yourself yet, but you promised one day you would.
Fortunately for you, the sea was calm and the winds steady, and it didn't take long until he could leave the rudder aside to spend time with you, only using it occasionally to remain in the desired direction, and time flew.
Sometime in the late afternoon, Jace was reading, and you should've been too if only your eyes could concentrate on the pages of the book and not on him in front of you.
He looked stunning, the wind moved through his dark curls, his light brown eyes looked like a honey pool, his cheeks sun-kissed, and his nose had a few tiny freckles, his attractive hand was splayed across the book's cover, and the occasional bites on his beautiful plump lips along the frown of his eyebrows as he focused on whichever he was reading was too much.
You could never fathom your luck, not only marrying a prince, the future heir to the throne but such a handsome and dear one, who you were irrevocably in love with. Your chest clenched just by looking at him.
Motivated by a sudden craving, you crawled to his side, pressing yourself to him. Although a lot more inconvenient to read in this position, he didn't hesitate to hug your waist with one arm, placing the book on his thigh.
His scent, of mint and lavender, inundated you, and you kissed his jaw before hugging his waist back with both arms and laying your head on his shoulder, snuggling up to him.
"I love you." You muttered.
Jace's eyes flicked to you, his cheeks growing redder, but this time not because of the sun. He smiled, one of his teeth slightly crooked, which only added more charm to his appearance, alongside his dimple.
"I love you more." He said, resting his forehead on yours and brushing your noses, which made you chuckle.
But these words were never enough, the immensity of your love for him was terrifying. You desired him in the most primal and selfish way, wanted him to be all yours, although he already was, by all means: legally and intimately. You worried your hunger for him would never be satiable, as there was nothing else to claim, less you two merged. Or perhaps it would be enough if you carried a piece of him inside of you.
"I want to give you children," You said absently, staring at the side of his elongated nose. "Make you a father."
Jace grinned, his eyes twinkling with diversion, but his heart hammered. "You will."
"Hopefully soon." You smiled faintly at him.
"Attempts will certainly not be an issue for us."
You laughed and with the sun finally cooling down, you closed your eyes. The wind caressing your face and the peaceful sound of the sea quickly lulled you to sleep.
At night, when you were both lying down on thin blankets while stargazing, the sky full of shimmering stars and the moon a waxing gibbous, it was very unsurprising how rapidly you got distracted and found yourselves melting into each other, the kisses heated and desire slowly consuming you inch by inch.
His touches were feather-light and teasing as he undressed you, and the night air made you shiver. His kisses were full of appreciation and delicacy, his thumb stroking your cheek in the most genuine affection. In the short two moons following your wedding, the prince had always been extremely gentle and attentive when bedding you, and you truly cherished it, most of the time. But in that moment you needed more, and so you asked him not to be as careful, but rather rougher.
He looked at you as if you had grown a second head, getting on his knees and denying profusely at first, claiming he would never mistreat you, but the twitch of his cock and the wild glint in his eyes were undeniable. It took some time to fully convince him, reassuring him that you truly wanted it and would be just fine afterward, and creating a small code between the two of you to stop, in case it became too overwhelming, he seemed keener to accept.
"Please, you might as well break me and put me back together," You whispered against his lips and he swallowed hard. "You can do whatever you wish to me."
"Anything?" His voice was low and hoarse.
"Anything. I am your wife, I belong solely to you and no one else," Your hand softly played with one of your breasts provocatively, his lower lip caught in between his teeth as he watched. "I am all yours, husband, only yours, to be treated as you see fit, and nobody has a say in that."
Then, he snapped, brown orbs darkening considerably and jawline clenched. In a blink of an eye, there were no traces of your ever-so-kind Jace anymore. His hand found a fistful of your hair, tugging at it with no care, which made you wince and your scalp burn.
"Very well, you asked for it." He growled before harshly pushing you back to the blankets on your stomach. You gasped, your cunt throbbing at the unusual behavior and eyes widening as you noticed him grabbing three of the many ropes around the boat.
Jace pressed his knee to your lower back, locking you in place as he grabbed your arms and tied them up in the tightest and most impressive knots, his ability with it once again surprising you. But he didn't stop at your wrists, he bent your legs and tied each of your ankles to your upper thighs as well with different ropes, restraining you completely and lifting you to be on all fours for him.
You writhed in discomfort, your arms and legs already aching due to the uncomfortable position. Jace stared at you while pushing his breeches down, your glistening cunt exposed to him in the most beautiful and tantalizing way.
He slammed into you with no warning or preparation, not that your already wet entrance needed it. Loud and whiny moans immediately left your lips, his girth stretching you out spectacularly, and the new position was delirious, you were certain he had never reached this deep before.
Jace's thrusts were far from gentle, and along with the delicious sensation of his cock dragging against your walls there was also an unusual sting with how careless he was being with it. Which only made you grow more aroused.
"You look so perfect like this, my dear," He praised and you hummed, lost in the bliss you were feeling. "Fucking perfect."
He slapped your ass hard, his palm imprinted on your skin in a red mark. You gasped sharply as the pain licked your stomach, but all too soon it became a desire.
"Always taking my cock so well, squeezing me so wonderfully," He slapped the other side of your ass mercilessly, the noise it made strident and you winced once again. "This cunt was precisely made for me."
His sweet words paired up with his aggressiveness were making you wild, not moaning anymore, but rather screaming. Any boats nearby could've heard you, but your mind was blank with pleasure, not worrying about it. You barely held any control over your body at this point, way too blissed out.
The urge to move and hold onto something, but the complete inability to do so was cruel and incendiary, repulsion and adoration melded as one. It made you whine, your stomach churning and heart thundering, it was agonizing even, but you loved being so overpowered, so vulnerable underneath him.
Jace pounded into you almost beastly, growling and gripping your hips with an unnerving strength, his balls smacking against your ass. You tried to move, but you only hurt yourself, the ropes scratching your skin and burning you. Your eyes welled up, unable to differentiate pain from pleasure, and you bite your lips, focusing on the overflow of sentiments inside of you.
By being tied up all your senses became more heightened, and even the littlest brush on your skin dazzled you. Every sensation was worth a hundred ones, and you felt it all deep in your core. It was as wondrous as damning. The cool wind kissing your body, the lewd sounds, Jace's unwavering grip on you, the sting of his previous slaps, the burn on your wrists caused by the rope, his cock hitting your sweet spot repeatedly. You were slowly going mad.
Your cunt fluttered furiously, your skin burning and sweat dripping down your forehead. You barely realized you were sobbing, a heavy stream of tears wetting your face on its own accord as you could not help but cry and cry with such strong emotions provoked.
And in the midst of it all, there was also a small amount of gentleness your husband couldn't completely leave behind. Clear in how he brushed your sticky hair out of your face and cleaned your tears as he leaned over you slightly, although his pace continued as brutal as before, if not even more.
"Seven, aren't you just adorable?" He rasped in the shell of your ear. "You are being so nice to me, I might just fuck a pretty babe into you as a reward."
You groaned in delight at his words, your body was already shaking and your muscles sore. Jace went back to his initial position, pulling harshly at your hair and pounding into you relentlessly.
"Would you like that, sweet wife?" He chuckled smugly. You tried to answer, but you didn't find words, so you only nodded eagerly as you babbled. "Yes, I know you would."
He would too, the thought of your belly swollen with his child made him go feral and swell up with pride. The grip on your hair tightened and his thrusts became even faster and desperate, his eyes rolling to the back of his head and goosebumps arousing on his skin with the approaching release.
Jace came with a grunt, his hot and thick seed filling you to the brim. His heart pounded painfully in his ears, beads of sweat all over his body. Even when quite faint from his peak, his ruthless pace didn't falter. You getting to come as well was just as important to him, and you were pretty close by the clench of your cunt.
It's like you have been shattered into the tiniest fragments and banished to the void, your mind parting from your body and your whole existence ceasing for a moment. You believed you and the stars above have become one, and that even perhaps you had perished from too much pleasure.
You are reminded you are very alive when Jace gathered his spend dripping out of you. "If you want to be the mother of my children so desperately," He started before pushing two fingers back into your sensitive cunt, which made you whine and squirm. "We cannot waste a single drop."
And as simple as that you are conscious of your surroundings again, too aware of the salty air and the ripples of the waves. You were shivering so much your teeth chattered, and you panted as if you had run a thousand miles, your throat sore from the cries and eyes heavy due to the tears.
Jace deluged you with many caring pecks on the cheek before undoing the tight knots and turning your slack body over.
"You did so well," He praised as he softly kissed your bruised wrists as well. "My perfect little wife."
He caressed your damp hair before helping you to sit up, flushed against his chest. Jace cleaned you up with the hem of the blanket, for lack of a better option, and grabbed a waterskin near, bringing it to your lips and you didn't waste time to drink it enthusiastically, your chin getting wet as well.
"Are you alright?" He asked concerned, the waterskin soon being emptied.
You took a few deep breaths before answering him, your voice somewhat raspy from the screaming. "Yes," You leaned more into him. "That was… very intense."
"Indeed." He hugged your waist and you looked up at him, finally regaining your breath. Jace pressed his lips to yours in a long and chaste kiss. "You are the absolute love of my life," He brushed your face with his knuckles. "Don't ever forget."
"And you are my heart and soul." You smiled at him, who stared at you with immense adoration in his eyes as if you hung the moon and the stars.
Cuddling up, sleep does not find any of you, but instead you spent the night talking away, and got to watch a beautiful sunrise together.
SUMMARY: you discover a new side of your husband, and it's exhilarating.
WARNINGS: fluff, smut, semi public sex, p in v, soft dom jace, dirty talk (praise), bondage, breeding kink, hair pulling, aftercare.
WC: 2.7K
"You are certain you can do this on your own?"
Jace sighed exasperated, although a playful smile crept across his face as well while he jumped out of the boat with enormous grace.
He looked excruciatingly charming today, his face flushed under the sun, and brazenly wearing only a thin white undershirt, the first three buttons undone and showing his chest.
"My sweet wife, I believe you have forgotten you have wed a Velaryon," He smirked. "What would become of me if I didn't know how to sail?"
"With all due respect, your brother gets seasick every time he's on a boat," Your eyes twinkled with amusement. "And he ought to be the head of the house one day."
Jace snorted jokingly. "We must be careful not to speak about it in front of him," He smiled mischievously. "It's a sensitive topic."
You laughed warmly, your whole body reverberating with it, and you glanced at the boat a few steps away from you. It was not extravagant, small, and made to travel shorter distances, the wood a reddish brown with an intrinsic seahorse carved into the bow.
It was his idea to spend the night on a boat, alone and away from the bustling castle, to unwind, he said. Your duties would not allow you to travel anytime soon, but a long boat ride could be just as enjoyable.
And that's how you found yourself at the docks, with food, blankets, books, and cards, all of which the prince had already stored on the boat a couple of minutes ago.
"Fortunately, I am not my brother." He continued to jest. "You have nothing to fear, my dear. Do you not trust your husband?"
You rolled your eyes at his exaggeration. "You know I do."
"Yes, because you did not hesitate for a second to fly with me on dragon-back," He moved closer to you, his arms wrapping around your waist, and your hands went to his neck. "What is the sea compared to the sky?"
"Just as dangerous." You quipped.
"Fair enough, but I will always keep you safe, whether in the sky, sea, or land."
Your heart leaped, a tingling warmth spreading from head to toe, and you averted your eyes, feeling too bashful. Jace chuckled, doubtless deeming you the most enchanting thing he ever had the privilege to see, and he couldn't help himself as he leaned in and locked your lips in a slow and loving peck.
"Lead the way, husband." You smiled shyly.
He grinned, not wasting a second to twirl you around and help you get into the boat. You giggled uncontrollably.
It's very captivating to watch him work, his sleeves rolled up and forearms flexing. He easily untied the ropes and pulled the anchor up, giving you quick explanations about how it is done, subtly proving to you he knew exactly what he was doing, a hint of a smug smile displayed when he looked at you.
Meanwhile, you also basked in the sun, it was an atypical hot day, the reason why your handmaids had chosen the lightest fabrics to dress you, and why your husband had taken off his tunic as soon as you two left the castle.
The fresh air nipped at your face, making your hair float, and it was more than welcome. You looked out at the vast blue sea while salt filled your lungs, mesmerized by the crash of the frothy waves. The bouncing of the water was, without a doubt, the most soothing sensation. For the longest time, you have always been delighted to travel, mostly because of the ships. An excitement many would consider childish, but that you could not help.
Jace hoisted the sail, adjusting it accordingly, and you offered to help. He was very patient with you, even if it meant taking a little bit longer and you were genuinely interested in learning, so much that you were beaming to see him steering it with the rudder. You didn't feel confident enough to try it out yourself yet, but you promised one day you would.
Fortunately for you, the sea was calm and the winds steady, and it didn't take long until he could leave the rudder aside to spend time with you, only using it occasionally to remain in the desired direction, and time flew.
Sometime in the late afternoon, Jace was reading, and you should've been too if only your eyes could concentrate on the pages of the book and not on him in front of you.
He looked stunning, the wind moved through his dark curls, his light brown eyes looked like a honey pool, his cheeks sun-kissed, and his nose had a few tiny freckles, his attractive hand was splayed across the book's cover, and the occasional bites on his beautiful plump lips along the frown of his eyebrows as he focused on whichever he was reading was too much.
You could never fathom your luck, not only marrying a prince, the future heir to the throne but such a handsome and dear one, who you were irrevocably in love with. Your chest clenched just by looking at him.
Motivated by a sudden craving, you crawled to his side, pressing yourself to him. Although a lot more inconvenient to read in this position, he didn't hesitate to hug your waist with one arm, placing the book on his thigh.
His scent, of mint and lavender, inundated you, and you kissed his jaw before hugging his waist back with both arms and laying your head on his shoulder, snuggling up to him.
"I love you." You muttered.
Jace's eyes flicked to you, his cheeks growing redder, but this time not because of the sun. He smiled, one of his teeth slightly crooked, which only added more charm to his appearance, alongside his dimple.
"I love you more." He said, resting his forehead on yours and brushing your noses, which made you chuckle.
But these words were never enough, the immensity of your love for him was terrifying. You desired him in the most primal and selfish way, wanted him to be all yours, although he already was, by all means: legally and intimately. You worried your hunger for him would never be satiable, as there was nothing else to claim, less you two merged. Or perhaps it would be enough if you carried a piece of him inside of you.
"I want to give you children," You said absently, staring at the side of his elongated nose. "Make you a father."
Jace grinned, his eyes twinkling with diversion, but his heart hammered. "You will."
"Hopefully soon." You smiled faintly at him.
"Attempts will certainly not be an issue for us."
You laughed and with the sun finally cooling down, you closed your eyes. The wind caressing your face and the peaceful sound of the sea quickly lulled you to sleep.
At night, when you were both lying down on thin blankets while stargazing, the sky full of shimmering stars and the moon a waxing gibbous, it was very unsurprising how rapidly you got distracted and found yourselves melting into each other, the kisses heated and desire slowly consuming you inch by inch.
His touches were feather-light and teasing as he undressed you, and the night air made you shiver. His kisses were full of appreciation and delicacy, his thumb stroking your cheek in the most genuine affection. In the short two moons following your wedding, the prince had always been extremely gentle and attentive when bedding you, and you truly cherished it, most of the time. But in that moment you needed more, and so you asked him not to be as careful, but rather rougher.
He looked at you as if you had grown a second head, getting on his knees and denying profusely at first, claiming he would never mistreat you, but the twitch of his cock and the wild glint in his eyes were undeniable. It took some time to fully convince him, reassuring him that you truly wanted it and would be just fine afterward, and creating a small code between the two of you to stop, in case it became too overwhelming, he seemed keener to accept.
"Please, you might as well break me and put me back together," You whispered against his lips and he swallowed hard. "You can do whatever you wish to me."
"Anything?" His voice was low and hoarse.
"Anything. I am your wife, I belong solely to you and no one else," Your hand softly played with one of your breasts provocatively, his lower lip caught in between his teeth as he watched. "I am all yours, husband, only yours, to be treated as you see fit, and nobody has a say in that."
Then, he snapped, brown orbs darkening considerably and jawline clenched. In a blink of an eye, there were no traces of your ever-so-kind Jace anymore. His hand found a fistful of your hair, tugging at it with no care, which made you wince and your scalp burn.
"Very well, you asked for it." He growled before harshly pushing you back to the blankets on your stomach. You gasped, your cunt throbbing at the unusual behavior and eyes widening as you noticed him grabbing three of the many ropes around the boat.
Jace pressed his knee to your lower back, locking you in place as he grabbed your arms and tied them up in the tightest and most impressive knots, his ability with it once again surprising you. But he didn't stop at your wrists, he bent your legs and tied each of your ankles to your upper thighs as well with different ropes, restraining you completely and lifting you to be on all fours for him.
You writhed in discomfort, your arms and legs already aching due to the uncomfortable position. Jace stared at you while pushing his breeches down, your glistening cunt exposed to him in the most beautiful and tantalizing way.
He slammed into you with no warning or preparation, not that your already wet entrance needed it. Loud and whiny moans immediately left your lips, his girth stretching you out spectacularly, and the new position was delirious, you were certain he had never reached this deep before.
Jace's thrusts were far from gentle, and along with the delicious sensation of his cock dragging against your walls there was also an unusual sting with how careless he was being with it. Which only made you grow more aroused.
"You look so perfect like this, my dear," He praised and you hummed, lost in the bliss you were feeling. "Fucking perfect."
He slapped your ass hard, his palm imprinted on your skin in a red mark. You gasped sharply as the pain licked your stomach, but all too soon it became a desire.
"Always taking my cock so well, squeezing me so wonderfully," He slapped the other side of your ass mercilessly, the noise it made strident and you winced once again. "This cunt was precisely made for me."
His sweet words paired up with his aggressiveness were making you wild, not moaning anymore, but rather screaming. Any boats nearby could've heard you, but your mind was blank with pleasure, not worrying about it. You barely held any control over your body at this point, way too blissed out.
The urge to move and hold onto something, but the complete inability to do so was cruel and incendiary, repulsion and adoration melded as one. It made you whine, your stomach churning and heart thundering, it was agonizing even, but you loved being so overpowered, so vulnerable underneath him.
Jace pounded into you almost beastly, growling and gripping your hips with an unnerving strength, his balls smacking against your ass. You tried to move, but you only hurt yourself, the ropes scratching your skin and burning you. Your eyes welled up, unable to differentiate pain from pleasure, and you bite your lips, focusing on the overflow of sentiments inside of you.
By being tied up all your senses became more heightened, and even the littlest brush on your skin dazzled you. Every sensation was worth a hundred ones, and you felt it all deep in your core. It was as wondrous as damning. The cool wind kissing your body, the lewd sounds, Jace's unwavering grip on you, the sting of his previous slaps, the burn on your wrists caused by the rope, his cock hitting your sweet spot repeatedly. You were slowly going mad.
Your cunt fluttered furiously, your skin burning and sweat dripping down your forehead. You barely realized you were sobbing, a heavy stream of tears wetting your face on its own accord as you could not help but cry and cry with such strong emotions provoked.
And in the midst of it all, there was also a small amount of gentleness your husband couldn't completely leave behind. Clear in how he brushed your sticky hair out of your face and cleaned your tears as he leaned over you slightly, although his pace continued as brutal as before, if not even more.
"Seven, aren't you just adorable?" He rasped in the shell of your ear. "You are being so nice to me, I might just fuck a pretty babe into you as a reward."
You groaned in delight at his words, your body was already shaking and your muscles sore. Jace went back to his initial position, pulling harshly at your hair and pounding into you relentlessly.
"Would you like that, sweet wife?" He chuckled smugly. You tried to answer, but you didn't find words, so you only nodded eagerly as you babbled. "Yes, I know you would."
He would too, the thought of your belly swollen with his child made him go feral and swell up with pride. The grip on your hair tightened and his thrusts became even faster and desperate, his eyes rolling to the back of his head and goosebumps arousing on his skin with the approaching release.
Jace came with a grunt, his hot and thick seed filling you to the brim. His heart pounded painfully in his ears, beads of sweat all over his body. Even when quite faint from his peak, his ruthless pace didn't falter. You getting to come as well was just as important to him, and you were pretty close by the clench of your cunt.
It's like you have been shattered into the tiniest fragments and banished to the void, your mind parting from your body and your whole existence ceasing for a moment. You believed you and the stars above have become one, and that even perhaps you had perished from too much pleasure.
You are reminded you are very alive when Jace gathered his spend dripping out of you. "If you want to be the mother of my children so desperately," He started before pushing two fingers back into your sensitive cunt, which made you whine and squirm. "We cannot waste a single drop."
And as simple as that you are conscious of your surroundings again, too aware of the salty air and the ripples of the waves. You were shivering so much your teeth chattered, and you panted as if you had run a thousand miles, your throat sore from the cries and eyes heavy due to the tears.
Jace deluged you with many caring pecks on the cheek before undoing the tight knots and turning your slack body over.
"You did so well," He praised as he softly kissed your bruised wrists as well. "My perfect little wife."
He caressed your damp hair before helping you to sit up, flushed against his chest. Jace cleaned you up with the hem of the blanket, for lack of a better option, and grabbed a waterskin near, bringing it to your lips and you didn't waste time to drink it enthusiastically, your chin getting wet as well.
"Are you alright?" He asked concerned, the waterskin soon being emptied.
You took a few deep breaths before answering him, your voice somewhat raspy from the screaming. "Yes," You leaned more into him. "That was… very intense."
"Indeed." He hugged your waist and you looked up at him, finally regaining your breath. Jace pressed his lips to yours in a long and chaste kiss. "You are the absolute love of my life," He brushed your face with his knuckles. "Don't ever forget."
"And you are my heart and soul." You smiled at him, who stared at you with immense adoration in his eyes as if you hung the moon and the stars.
Cuddling up, sleep does not find any of you, but instead you spent the night talking away, and got to watch a beautiful sunrise together.
SUMMARY: frustrated by your unsuccessful attempts to charm prince aemond, you should have known not to turn to prince aegon.
WARNINGS: fluff kinda, curse words.
WC: 3.4K
You have put so much effort into your looks for the evening, so specific when you ordered a new gown for the most high-priced seamstress from King's Landing. Your sleep the previous night had been uncomfortable as you went to bed with the tightest buns to achieve luscious and perfect hair. Getting ready had been exhausting as well, the dress buttons and ribbons were too complicated and tight, your skin was scrubbed almost raw, and the strong fragrance splashed over your body made you sneeze repeatedly. You'd gone as far as wandering around the city to find good and reliable pastes, powders, and paints, something you have never tried before, though a few of your friends loved to use them. Your eyelids were painted blue and cheeks a faint tone of red.
And in all honesty, you were looking splendid. Almost all eyes were on you the moment you stepped into the ballroom, many lords gawking and immediately asking you to spare them a dance. No matter where you went, heads turned in your direction. But not his.
The reason for all of your pampering barely glanced your way, except when you acknowledged him and curtseyed. But you didn't give up. At some point you approached him in the corner, and asked questions, trying to strike up a conversation. You tried to talk about topics you believed he was interested in, dragons, sword training, history and philosophy, and more. He didn't even pretend to be interested, his violet eye focused on everyone around the room but you, his responses guttural. It felt as if you were talking to a wall, and you started to feel fidgety, gulping down all the wine goblets that passed in front of you carried by servants.
You hated wine, the taste of it was too bitter and strong, but it was a good distraction to your pounding heart and dizzy head, certain you were embarrassing yourself. Although distasteful in the beginning, the warmth the wine provided in your chest was welcoming, and after a few more cups, the most you have ever consumed in your life, you felt yourself loosening up. You were completely conscious, but your body and mind seemed to be a lot lighter than usual.
Reuniting all of your courage, perhaps fueled by the wine, once you ran out of topics, you decided to test your luck. It went against all of the etiquette lessons, and it might as well be humiliating, but you doubted Aemond would brag about such a thing. You had hoped for him to ask the question, but each new celebration, and even his lack of initiating a simple conversation with you, proved that it would be unlikely. So instead, you sighed and did it.
"Would you like to dance, my Prince?"
He finally looked at you, his face as blank as an unpainted canvas, so emotionless it made your skin crawl and heartbeat quicken so much you could hear the blood rushing in your ears. It was only seconds before he blinked slowly and answered, but it could've been hours, anticipation eating you inside out.
"I do not enjoy dancing, my lady."
You didn't move a muscle, an uncomfortable silence pairing between the two of you, your mouth slightly agape and mind fumbling to find a response. Suddenly, the music and chatter around you sounded much louder. There was a heavy sense of shame, certainly, but underneath it, there was also an odd relief, doubt no more weighing on your shoulders. He did not wish to dance.
"I understand," You said as composed as you could as if it was a casual offer and didn't hurt your heart deeply. "If you will excuse me." You curtseyed once again and got away, not waiting to see or hear his response.
Body aflame, your eyes searched for an exit with purpose, the room now too crowded for you. All the lightness of the liquor disappeared and you just felt heavy and uncomfortable, throat drying out and chest tightening.
If one asked when you fell in love with Aemond Targaryen, you would not be able to pinpoint it. Most likely around the age of ten and two, when your eyes could not help but look for the usually staid prince. Although even earlier in your childhood, when you were just small things sprinting around the castle with a few missing teeth, you considered him the coolest of all your acquaintances. Why you hold such feelings for him for so long was an even harder question, you do not know. Maybe you fantasized about him too much before bed, deep in your illusion. You have tried to discount those feelings and surpass them but to no avail. It was as if you were sick, and there was no antidote. Maybe that was your curse, to forever long for someone you could never have.
You rushed to where you knew there were huge double doors, now covered by dark green curtains for the decorations of the ball. Fresh air would probably do you some good. Closing the doors, you stopped dead in your tracks as you spotted the back of the head of a certain silver-haired, the strands cut short.
"Seven, did you bathe in a tub of fragrance?" Aegon didn't attempt to look at you.
Groaning, you stepped further into the balcony, making your way to his side. Unsurprisingly, Aegon was drinking, a jar of wine upon the balustrade, and silver cup in hand. You supported your elbows on the structure of stone, breathing in the cold wind that caressed your face. Countless stars and a full moon graced the dark blue sky.
Despite your wishes, you have grown used to Aegon's presence in the last few months due to some unfortunate circumstances, and pairing it with the fact you cared very little about his opinion of you or how unrefined he might think you are, there was no reluctance about what you said next, frustration clear in your voice, now unusually slurred.
"How can I charm Aemond?"
Aegon snickered. "Oh. Yes, well, don't expect me to help," He shook his head, looking at you up and down. "Though I am certain you will find your way anywise."
"You seriously cannot be solicitous for once in your life, Aegon?" You crossed your arms in annoyance.
"Why do you assume I need to be solicitous?" Aegon scoffed. "You seem quite charming, I am sure you can find out how to get his… favor."
"You are his brother! You could at least offer me some advice."
"Alright, I will offer you one piece of advice," He took a big gulp of wine, his lips glistening with the liquid. "Don't act so desperate," He smirked. "And that's all you are getting. "
You rolled your eyes, facing the city ahead of you again. "You are of no use."
"That's not what your sister told me." He laughed cynically. "If you want to succeed, then you have to do it alone. Can't have it all spoon-fed to you, can you?" He leans against the railing, staring at you with a mischievous grin.
Oh yes, your sister, who's been sneaking around with Aegon for a few moons now, and essentially dragging you into her rendezvous as well. She always used you to cover and support her claims to your parents, a habit of hers. It wasn't even constant, their trysts. You doubt your sister could remain interested in just one man for more than a few weeks. However, you didn't have much of a choice other than being her accomplice and helping in her escapades, as you would never purposely have her get into complicated and shameful situations.
"I would rather have it spoon-fed, thank you."
Aegon chuckled. "Then, I wish you good fortune with charming my brother," He winked. "Just remember that you will get nowhere without the right attitude." He nudged you.
Your eyes came back to his face as your eyebrows knitted together. "What do you mean?"
"I mean you could be the most beautiful woman in the world, but it means nothing if you don't carry yourself right. Aemond won't be charmed by looks alone. You will have to give him more than that."
You nodded. "Yes, he is not an easily impressed man," You sighed exasperatedly. "It would all be so much easier if I fancied you instead."
"Now, that's very presumptuous of you to say. Why would you think I am easier?" The tone of his voice was exaggeratedly offended. "Maybe I am the hardest to charm."
"If you were the hardest, half the women of King's Landing wouldn't be able to say they have laid with you, would they?" You cocked your head. "Or are all of them just awfully skilled?"
His smirk faltered for a second and he narrowed his eyes, leaving his cup behind. "Is that so, my fair lady?" He stepped closer to you, which made you turn your body towards him. "You have heard rumors? And who are you to say they are true? Besides your lovely sister, of course. Or do you prefer to believe them because it's convenient?"
You scoffed, shaking your head. If he truly believes his well-known behavior could be easily denied, he was delusional. "Rumors do come from somewhere, my Prince, and since we are talking about attitudes, you do not act any different than a… man-whore."
Aegon smiled disturbingly calmly at you, but his gaze was piercing. "Oh, do you get to decide that? Or are you judging so you can feel better about yourself in your righteousness?" He taunted you.
You chuckled incredulously at how he tried to change the topic from him to you, to give him some merit, he was not awful at it. And someone who doesn't know any better could easily be fooled by his falsely insulted speech, as he definitely sounds like he believes his words, but you're very aware of who he is.
"I can often see the disdain in your eyes… You must think every woman who's ever come close to me has some kind of hold on me, isn't that right?" He approached you even more, so much you took a hesitant step back. "What would you even know about me?"
The sharpness of his words made you shiver, but you did not falter. "Fair, I do not know you much despite your reputation, but what I know certainly precedes it. It's a quick observation, it would be easier to charm you other than Aemond. Don't take offense."
He laughed mockingly. "Well, then I challenge you to prove it," His smile turned almost cruel. "Let actions speak, and we shall see if you are right… or just a foolish, presumptuous woman." He raised his eyebrow in defiance.
"Prove it?" You repeated his words, brows furrowed.
"You have claimed that I am a man of want," His hand caressed the hilt of Blackfyre absently and your eyes were drawn to the movement, remembering his position. "So prove it. Prove that you are right and I am wrong."
You gulped, finally understanding the meaning of his challenge. "I…"
"Is that the end of your words?" He chuckled again. "You are intimidated now?"
You remained silent, struggling to answer him.
"Tell me, my fair lady, am I wrong?" Aegon opened his arms in invitation while smirking. "Prove me wrong."
Your heart drummed, breath hitching as your eyes remained locked on Aegon and his mocking face. Infuriated, you start to walk towards him, however much slower than you expected, as if your body was not as sure as your mind. The prince observed you like a proper dragon, his eyes twinkling as the purple orbs silently goaded you to continue.
You stopped only inches from him, bodies brushing, and you could feel the scent of wine mixed with an interesting blend of cedarwood, saffron, and magnolia.
"Well? I am waiting." His voice sounded much more raspy now that you were close.
Chewing on your lower lip, you placed your hands on Aegon's chest, moving it up until you clasped them together around his neck as you looked at him with your most innocent doe eyes. However, your voice sounded anything but, now a lot more enticing. "Do you find me beautiful, my lord?"
Aegon chuckled, his heart leaping. Never did he think he would see or have you this way. Too close, and looking at him so adorably. He seized the opportunity to stare at your features, eyes trailing over your face, and he concluded he adored all that he saw, even the tiny flaws that weren't noticeable from afar. He resisted the urge to touch your face, staring at your exposed chest and then back to your eyes. You are beautiful, but that is no wonder, he's been aware of your beauty for a good while now, even if you two are completely different.
Now your sister is a lot more like him, wild and spontaneous, and it was no surprise they found themselves often tangled up in bed. You, on the other hand, though not entirely shy and unafraid of speaking your mind when necessary, was a lot more reserved and dutiful. When he noticed your smitten stares at his younger brother, he thought there couldn't be a better, and boring, match. But Aemond never made a move, and there is no way that he might be clueless about your passion, anyone with eyes, either a pair or just one, could notice that. Much to Aegon's bafflement, he just deliberately ignored you.
"Oh…" He pretended to be in deep thought before smiling teasingly. "How could I not?"
You tried not to show how embarrassed you were by his words and how genuine they sounded, pressing your lips together for a second.
"Well, I think you are a very pretty boy," You leaned even closer. "Those lilac eyes of yours are so enchanting..." You rubbed his cheek admirably.
Aegon shuddered with your closeness paired with the compliments, but he managed to stay still, hands firmly by his sides. He would gladly drown in your warmth and scent on any other occasion, but not right now. He smirked, masking his nervousness with confidence, even if his warm cheeks indicated how affected he was by just a small amount of your attention.
"My fair lady, I do believe you are giving my ego a bit too much validation."
"It is well deserved." Your lips met his cheek in a light kiss, then moved it to his jaw.
Aegon bites his lip to not whimper right there, fist clenched to continue unmoving. Due to his silence and stillness, you continued to kiss his neck, nipping and licking the soft flesh, and you felt surprised to like the taste of him so much.
"What would you say you are doing?" Aegon asked amusingly.
"Nothing." You said nonchalantly against his neck, kissing his throat before moving to the other side of his neck.
Aegon's eyes closed as you continued your ministrations on his neck, kisses getting wetter and sloppily. He grinned, lower abdomen burning, and still fighting the need to touch you. What an agreeable turn of events.
When you finished kissing the left side of his neck and face, your lips found his, unsure what else you could do to stir him up. Aegon didn't move for a while and you prayed that he would react soon, not certain if your pride could handle being rejected twice in the same night. Your fears drifted away the second your tongue brushed his lips and he finally gripped your waist harshly, eagerly returning the kiss with a grunt.
It was ferocious, but mindful, as if he knew exactly what he was doing. You have kissed before, once, and it felt nothing like this. Eerie fitting, balanced, and enjoyable. Your hand caressed his neck, the taste of wine not displeasing to you, not at this moment. It felt as if you were merging into one, drowning in each other's taste. You shouldn't indulge so much, but it was incredible, the attention and intimacy unlocking tons of repressed desires inside you and making your body tingle. A whimper left your lips and your heart thundered inside your chest. You forced yourself to pull away, eyes half-closed, feeling everything twice as strong as you should.
Then, you finally remembered you have won the challenge. Aegon didn't resist you, he was easy to charm. The victorious grin on your face made its way as fast as it disappeared when your eyes focused on the silver-haired man. Looking down at you, the prince looked absurdly delighted.
"Congratulations, you've just proven yourself right, my fair lady," He didn't even try to hide his amusement as he moved away. "It seems I am truly a man of want. How surprising."
Your stomach lurched, your mouth agape in shock as a mortifying shame devoured your whole. This had been his plan all along, he wanted you to kiss him, obviously never truly feeling offended by your words. Aegon had tricked you, and you have fallen into his trap as easily as a rabbit. Seven, you could've vomited.
Embarrassment quickly turned into anger. "You cunt!" You raged, voice rising in a way that made you sound like a squirrel. "How could you do this?! You are so… unscrupulous and vile!"
"I didn't do anything," He laughed derisively, raising his hands in surrender. "You kissed me. I stayed right there, unmoving."
You groaned, throwing your head back in frustration as you paced. "You are terrible!"
"Thank you, my dear." He smirked, supporting his weight on the door.
You rested your hands upon the balustrade, fidgeting them nervously. How could you have been so daft to not notice exactly what he was doing, consciously getting a rise out of you to his benefit? This night was disastrous.
When he spoke next, you jumped. Not expecting him to be so close, his breath tickling the back of your neck as he moved a piece of your hair out of the way. "Would you like to dance with me?"
You sneered as you looked at him over your shoulder, voice dangerously low. "What?"
"You have not danced tonight," He pointed out. "Were you expecting my excuse of a brother to ask you?"
"That does not concern you." You said sharply.
"You are looking far too pretty not to dance."
"There are plenty of men willing to dance with me inside that room."
"None deserving of the honor."
"And you are?" You chuckled humorously.
"Not even in the slightest," He whispered in the shell of your ear, sensuously. "But I can promise not to bore you to death."
"You truly are shameless."
He shrugged. "Be reasonable, my fair lady. It is just, after our shared kiss, is it not?" Your body trembled when he rested his ringed fingers on your lower stomach, pulling your body flush against his chest. "I know you enjoyed it. And I can say I'm as good a dancer as I am a lover."
You concluded you were not in your best state of mind when you didn't refuse immediately. There were no good reasons to accept his invitation, still, you felt tempted to. It is the thrill that he evokes when you are near him that you do not want to let go yet. It's an uncommon emotion for you, but one that reminded you that you were alive. The night had been dreadful already, so honestly, how bad could it be?
Aegon smiled wickedly when you accepted, and extended his hand for you to hold. You ignored the goosebumps that arose on your skin when your hands touched. He led you inside, separating for an instant to go and speak with the musicians.
Multiple eyes watched curiously as you made your way into the dancefloor. The music, of his choice, was soothing and sweet. Your arms were raised and intertwined as you both twirled around slowly, a matching playful grin on your faces as you switched arms and directions.
Aegon meant it when he said he would not bore you to death. To your bewilderment, amongst fluid and precise movements, absolutely worthy of a prince, he also decided to add some childish dance steps. Wriggling his hips or clapping his hands in such a ridiculous way that made you laugh out loud and try it out yourself. In no way suitable for the grand event you were in.
You would've noticed some disapproving looks if your eyes weren't stuck on Aegon. Your dancing seemed effortless, a silent understanding floating between you, along with known giggles.
When he lifted you off the ground, putting you back down slowly as his hand went to the small of your back, you felt yourself getting lost in the lilac of his eyes. Perhaps to never be found again.
He didn't even pretend to be interested, his violet eye focused on everyone around the room but you, his responses guttural.
oh sweet girl no
there was also an odd relief, doubt no more weighing on your shoulders. He did not wish to dance.
phew
If one asked when you fell in love with Aemond Targaryen, you would not be able to pinpoint it. Most likely around the age of ten and two,
jody sweetness im gonna cry 😭
"Seven, did you bathe in a tub of fragrance?" Aegon didn't attempt to look at you.
... shhhh
ALSO AEGON WOO
Oh yes, your sister, who's been sneaking around with Aegon for a few moons now, and essentially dragging you into her rendezvous as well.
SUCH AN INTERESTING CONCEPT AND PAIRING!! SSJDJKD
"You have claimed that I am a man of want," His hand caressed the hilt of Blackfyre absently and your eyes were drawn to the movement, remembering his position. "So prove it. Prove that you are right and I am wrong."
ajsjskdskdkkdkd
When he spoke next, you jumped. Not expecting him to be so close, his breath tickling the back of your neck as he moved a piece of your hair out of the way. "Would you like to dance with me?"
i want him :(
When he lifted you off the ground, putting you back down slowly as his hand went to the small of your back, you felt yourself getting lost in the lilac of his eyes. Perhaps to never be found again.
SUMMARY: aemond needs your assistance after a battle, in more ways than one.
WARNINGS: blood, curse words, smut with plot, use of coconut oil as lube, hand-job, p in v, tits sucking, multiple orgasms, creampie, a hint of sub aemond? oops? :3
WC: 5.3K
NOTES: obviously this is my take on what happened after rook's rest. the show's approach next year will definitely be different. but it's fun working with the book's events and its lack of minor details (you can fill it in however you wish!).
Your eyes flutter open with a jump, a firm hand gripping your shoulder. You didn't remember when you had fallen asleep, or what hour it was, but certainly wasn't the time for your shift yet. It takes a few seconds for your cloudy vision to focus on where you were, now noticing the older servant in front of you, and you look at her dazedly.
"The prince has just arrived, and requests your presence," Annabel explains.
Aemond. Immediate relief washes over you as your face softens. "Very well."
You leave the servants' quarters as fast as you can after fixing your appearance, and as you walk through the halls, you notice the castle is way too agitated. Tension and seriousness ripple in the air, and you start to feel uneasy as well, mind fumbling with numberless possibilities.
It's one of the gold cloaks that finally speaks a little louder, talking fervently about the victory of the greens at the battle of Rook's Rest. It had been quite a few days since their army had marched, and news was often shared about their progression. Usually, you tend to avoid it, since most of it makes you feel sick in your stomach.
Besides the armored man, there is no more commemoration or sense of victory. Not on this side of the castle, at least. Lords were probably planning on throwing banquets, but people like you are too aware of the damages of the war, and how at the end of the day the smallfolk suffer the most. Countless common people would die in the name of greedy royalty that know no limits to their ambition, families ruined beyond repair, a ravaging hunger was plaguing the poorest, and the coffers would soon be emptied, money being spent on battles other than improving the realm and making life easier. It's obvious how no good could ever come regardless of the result of the war.
You find Annabel again, shouting order after order, the middle-aged woman was the one in charge of the servants for a good while now and was a reliable source of information.
"What happened?" You approach her.
"A lot happened, child." Her tone is somber.
"Did someone die?" What a foolish question. Not just someone, but hundreds.
"The queen who never was and her dragon."
You grimace, reminiscing about the princess back when she was visiting the Red Keep. Although such casualties are expected during the war, it is still difficult to grasp that the imposing woman is dead. It's fearful how one's life could be ripped from them so suddenly. A paralyzing concern floods you. Aemond being back does not mean he is unharmed.
"Has the prince been hurt?" Your voice falters, your heart pounding with fear.
Annabel's gaze flickers to your face, and you could see her disapproval, almost making you wish to recoil. But she would never say a thing about your unusual closeness with the prince, being unlike her to intrude in personal affairs. You are aware she doesn't like Aemond or any of the royals, but then again very few did. You have grown to understand it was not only because of his eye, or lack thereof, but because he simply did not inspire sympathy. Aemond is stoic, defensive, and difficult to relate to. You were only one of the very few lucky enough to know better.
"The prince is fine," Annabel says and you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. "However, it is said the king is in critical condition, it is not known if he will recover, and his dragon is unable to fly, one of his wings was damaged during the fight."
You gasp, in your slumber you have forgotten about the man, not being concerned about him in the slightest. Anyhow, you feel your mind almost melting as you process the shocking news and the aftermath of it. If the king were to perish, that means Aemond would be regent until his nephew is of ideal age. Seven. "Poor Sunfyre."
Annabel tries to scold you, but the amusement behind her blue eyes is hard to conceal. "You are pitying the dragon, not the king?"
"Well, people have the free will of choice, and are aware of the consequences their actions might have… a dragon can only obey their rider's command, isn't it right?"
"We cannot say. These magical creatures are beyond our comprehension."
You ponder. "That is true."
After the quick conversation, you make your way to one of the huge kitchens, assuming the prince would probably fancy a bath. Warming up buckets of water, you carry them to Maegor's Holdfast with the help of three other servants.
A strong smell of blood and smoke fills your nose as you enter his quarters, and your eyes widen. The expensive rug is stained and marked by large boots, and even more astounding is the prince's appearance.
Aemond is lounging on a chair close to his study table. His face and hair are covered by blood, ash, and dirt, and splatters of dried blood stains his black and gold armor. His braids are loose, and you can even notice some twigs tangled in his silver strands. However, the prince's hands are the most distressing, gloves discarded at some point and almost fully covered by the red liquid. With a frown, you deduce it must be from his brother's injury. He looks haunting, almighty, and ruthless. There's a scowl on his face, though his eyes seem perturbed.
You notice how the servants' hands seem to tremble slightly as they pour the water into the bathtub in the next room, their eyes never daring to look up while adding some essential oils and chamomile herbs to the water as well, however, you cannot share their fear. All you wish to do is reach out and comfort him. Leaving one of the buckets outside the bathroom, you can see from the corner of your eyes the one-eyed man dismissing the other servants with a wave of a hand, and they seem eager to oblige. You kneel in front of him.
"I am glad you are well," You squeeze his knees. "And tremendously sorry for your brother."
Aemond does not respond, and his gaze is piercing as he stares at you as if memorizing each detail of your face. You don't look away either, a comfortable but powerful silence pairing between the two of you. His fingers slowly graze your cheek, and you do not mind the blood, eyes closing with the delicate caress.
"Help me undress, will you?"
You nod, aware he was never one to talk in deep about his emotions and thoughts, to allow himself to be vulnerable. Nonetheless, you've been noticing this quietness getting worse ever since Storm's End, and although concerned, you would not push him. Especially because you weren't even aware of the extent of your relationship. That he has a certain tenderness for you is clear, but the amount of liberties you could take with the royal is not as much.
Carefully undoing his heavy armor, the pieces fall to the ground with a whump, and the clothes underneath are a lot easier to deal with. His defined body slowly comes into view, a few goosebumps arising on his bare skin with the sudden lack of materials. Aemond's nakedness is of no surprise to you, though you could never help but admire him. Grabbing a cloth you wet it in the bucket nearby and start to clean his face first, hoping to get rid of the thicker layers of dirt before starting the bath.
Your touch is light, afraid to harshly rub any scratches, big or small. "Are you hurt in any way?"
Aemond shakes his head. "None of the blood is mine," He says. "It's from the princess and my brother, and their dragons. I believe some from Lord Staunton and his garrison as well."
You shudder with discomfort and drift your attention to cleaning his hands, the cloth immediately being painted red, you discard it for another as you move to the other hand. You've always enjoyed tending to him.
His hair comes next, and you take off his eyepatch. Undoing the braids is quick, long accustomed to it, though his strands are now sticking and smelling terribly, like a pan that spent too much time on fire, simply nose scrunching and suffocating. Aemond moves his head side to side with a growl after you are done, the bones of his neck cracking.
The prince sighs pleasantly as he enters the tub, and you grab a bowl to wet his hair. The silver strands get soaped quickly as you massage his scalp with both hands, his good eye close, and the sapphire twinkles.
After washing it, you fetch another soap bar, one that the merchant guaranteed you was special, something about adding more oils while making it. There was no harm in trying, and you were surprised by how such a thing made his hair healthier, not as dry which means fewer cuts, and more tamed and lustrous. His strands instantly become more emollient as you run the soap along the length.
Aemond seems completely unbothered as you get to scrub his body, the fine hairs covering his arms and legs so light it's barely visible. It's, in fact, a moment of relaxation and customariness, a routine for both of you. But the water is already dirty and gray by now, and you cannot help but recall it's not only ashes and dirt but also the mixed blood of people and beasts alike. Some perished.
You do not notice the silver-haired staring at you until he speaks. "You do not seem very pleased."
You raise your eyebrows. "Is there something to be pleased about?"
"Is there not?" He squints his eye. "We have just won a battle."
"Congratulations."
"Your sincerity is appreciated." His voice is dripping with sarcasm. "You know you can speak freely with me." He studies your face.
You bite your lips, focusing on the task at hand and adding more soap to the scrubber. The prince would never understand your point, so you would rather avoid a useless discussion. Especially today.
Unfortunately, he doesn't give up, cocking his head. "What is restraining you from doing so? Are you disgusted? Would you prefer me to not have killed all those cunty traitors?" His voice is low, dangerous. "Would you prefer to have that whore sitting on the throne? Is that the reason for your unpleasantness? Do you believe she's more suitable than my brother? Than me?"
You look at him sternly, the scrubber falling to the water with a splash. His face is now a lot closer to yours, but he does not intimidate you, never did, and probably never will. But he hits a nerve, and your mouth moves even before you could notice you were speaking.
"I would prefer your family to resolve the succession issue in another way other than submitting the kingdom to a devastating war with horrendous consequences, for all of you certainly, as proved by your nephew's death and older brother's injury now, but mostly, innocent people that have nothing to do with your schemes." Your voice holds a cold rage. "That is my opinion if it's of any importance to you, but I highly doubt it."
Aemond scoffs, shaking his head and averting his eye for a minute. His finger rests on top of his mouth, and there's still blood underneath his nails. He inhales to control his annoyance. He looks like he's going to say something, but then changes his mind, closing his lips and opting for another choice of words.
"You would not understand it, as a commoner." He looks at you up and down, not with the usual desire, but with a hint of superiority now, clear in how the corner of his lip twitches upward dismissively.
You are quick to respond. "Nor would you, as a prince."
Deafening silence. You have a good point, the drastic difference in your backgrounds would never let you completely understand one another's views and priorities. Aemond sighs.
"You are lucky I am fond of you." A truce.
You chuckle. "And I do not dislike you entirely."
The prince smiles, tight-lipped, but it is lovely, showing off his beautiful dimples. The rest of the bath goes calmly as you resume the chore. You wrap his hair in a cotton towel, and his body in a linen one. You leave the prince to dry himself while you make your way to the bedchamber, gathering loose mud green trousers and some shea butter.
The one-eyed stands in his full glory as you spread the product all over his lean body. Back, arms, chest, and stomach, then his legs. When you get up from your kneeling position, his hand wraps around your neck swiftly, bringing your body forward and kissing you.
You return it immediately, deep and eager. However, it's also contemplative and cozy, almost lazy as you taste one another. Your hand rests on his forearm, the softness and warmth of his lips never failing to get you weak on the knees, and he smells great now, fresh. Your eyes seem unable to open as you get lost in the small kisses and teases.
"Do not resent me, beauty." He says as you part.
You smile against his mouth, you thought it was precious when he got like this, clingy in his way. It was only on these rare occasions that he let his pride and loftiness aside, and would do everything to prevent you from being upset with him. Seeking your comfort in such an intense manner it was flattering.
A verbal answer doesn't leave your lips, you just kiss him again, and it's enough. "Get dressed and sit down." You motion to the dressing table, throwing the trousers at him.
You comb his hair delicately, adding some sunflower oil to his scalp before braiding his damp hair, he prefers it this way, claiming it was the only way it wouldn't get tangled up in the morning. You start from his very root, sectioning small amounts of silver hair and crossing them over in between your fingers, slowly but surely creating a beautiful and tight pattern. It's not a fast process, but you delight in it and you suspect so does the man in front of you, almost purring as you work. Tying the end of it, you rub his shoulders affectionately, his skin always warm beneath your palms.
"I am sore," Aemond complains. "A massage would be great."
You grin, pecking his cheek from behind. "As you wish, my Prince."
He is truly very tense, and you cannot fathom how distressing all that he witnessed is. You suppose it was a life-changing experience, in the worst way possible. It was clear how his eye hardened considerably in a short time. You would have surely run to the hills in his place, but he doesn't. He breathes and keeps his composure, hiding away all his fright, pretending to be indifferent, that he accepts his duty and the price of it gladly. But nobody would, less they lacked emotions.
Aemond lays down on his stomach, folding his arms above his head. Grabbing a bottle of coconut oil from the table, you take off your shoes and raise your dress to your knees before crawling on the bed to sit on top of his butt.
His body jolts as you drip a generous amount of oil on his large back, his muscles flexing. His body is so magnificent you could easily imagine a greater force meticulously creating each detail of it. Aemond moans the moment your hands start to caress his lower back. Your first touches are gentle, tracing circles up and down with your fingertips, mapping where you can feel some knots. Your hands move from his sides, to his shoulders, and up to the back of his neck, pinching it slightly.
"Fuck," Aemond grunts, voice muffled by the mattress. "This feels nice."
You add more pressure, stroking his back up and down, and after a few minutes back to tracing firm circles, this time with the heel of your hand. The prince is unable to contain noises of pleasure. Laying one of your hands on top of the other, you start the process of pushing his spine, once again beginning down and going up. A few cracks are heard.
Then, you add gentle pressure with your thumbs on his knots, his grunts are now a little bit more uncomfortable, but it's necessary. After you are done, you softly knead his back up and down, and then start switching between circling and stroking.
Aemond's moans along with the feel of his skin start to alight a desire in you, your lower stomach tingling in a known and annoying manner, womanhood pulsating with each new sound. It doesn't help how your filthy encounters had been becoming less frequent, the prince growing too busy with the war, and often you would feel bothered and insatiable.
It's unconscious the way you start rubbing on him, trying to relieve the ache you feel, and you do not realize what you are doing until he grips your thigh, halting your tentative movements at once.
"Stop teasing." He warns.
You stammer, a bit embarrassed. "I'm not, I–"
Suddenly you are pinned down by the prince, your positions switched as you utter your confusion by the suddenness. You should've been used to his strength and fast reflexes by now. "Do you deem your behavior acceptable?"
You swallow, trying not to smile, and feign innocence. "I have no clue what you are talking about."
"Oh, yes? You are unaware you were rubbing yourself on me like a bitch in heat?"
"I would never do that, my Prince."
"You would never…?" He chuckles, feeling amused.
"During my work? No." You shake your head in denial.
"So, if I touch your cunt right now, you would not be wet?" He cocks his head.
You bite your lips. "Not at all."
"Forgive me for not believing your words, but I shall need proof." Aemond's hand sneaks under your dress, fingers moving slowly from your shin to your thigh, his eye never leaving yours, daring.
You giggle when his finger parts your folds, rubbing the dampness between your legs. You buck your hips, in need of more friction.
"Liar." Aemond disregards with a click of his tongue, his violet pupil blown out as he circles your bud.
"Aemond." You gasp, eyes closing.
"Do you think you deserve it?"
"Yes, I've been taking care of you so well..." You try to negotiate.
"But I deserve so much more attention, don't you agree?" He kisses and licks your collarbone, finger never faltering, teasing.
"More?" Your breath is labored, and your voice is weak. His hand leaves your heat.
"I have killed a whole other dragon. It is not frequently one can say it. Yes, I believe I am due special treatment." He faces you again.
"I see," You grin. "You want me to do all the work?" Your lips brush his. "Such an idle prince." You provoke.
"Watch your mouth," He warns, pecking you. "I am merely tired. It's been eventful."
"Conveniently for you, I am feeling generous today." Your hands trail his bare waist.
"You are?" He smirks, nose touching yours.
"Uh-huh, and very happy you are unscathed."
"Show me, then," Aemond kisses your jaw. "Just how grateful you are."
The kiss you share is lecherous, wet, and rushed. Aemond does not fight you as you flip your bodies over and climb onto his lap, an evident bulge in the thin trousers that contours all of his cock tantalizingly. Even the clothed friction makes you both shudder, and you gather all of your strength to not start instantly grinding on his shaft.
You pull his trousers down, and his manhood springs free. Big, thick, veiny. Dripping coconut oil on your hands, you rub them together. Aemond wets his lips in anticipation.
Your hand slides through his length with no difficulty with the help of the oil, and the smell of it is delicious. You start jerking him off, and the prince hums in satisfaction.
Aemond wasn't the most vocal in bed, you realized it soon into your affair, but with time you had discovered the exceptions, the things that would make him forget all about his inhibitions and scream in pleasure.
After stroking him for a while, you cup one of your hands, very slowly circling his tip with the palm of your oily hand, fingertips dragging up and down his length while you do so. Aemond breathes sharply, his stomach twitching.
"Seven hells, love." He mutters with a tight hold on the sheets due to his sensitivity. You smile.
You focus on your fingertips, running them up and down his shaft lightly. Aemond adored the delicacy of the movement, the gentle yet torturous pressure, promising and unforgiving, kind and cruel. Then you circle his head again, again, and again. Careful to not hurt him. Aemond grunts, his eyebrows pinching together and face completely flushed as he bites his lips harshly, trying to hold back his moans, but you know it won't last long.
"Stop, it 's too much." He whines, but the delighted sound that escapes his mouth tells you to do anything but, his body trembling.
"Aw," You coo mockingly. "We know you can take it, my Prince."
You add more oil to your hands, holding his length and rotating your wrist as your palm rubs over his tip and shaft over and over. He completely let go as he closes his eye, his grunts being replaced by enchanting high-pitched and broken moans. It's quite pathetic the sight of him, the mighty and fearsome prince so supple on your hands, forehead glistening with sweat and breath erratic. Anyone outside could hear him.
"My love, please." He begs in the middle of whimpers, all of his body hair stirred up.
"Please what, my dear?" You ask innocently.
Aemond squirms. "I need to come," He gasps. "Please, please, please."
"Since you asked so nicely…"
You change the movement, keeping it only on his sensitive head, your other hand squeezing his balls. His voice gets louder, face twisted in pleasure as a tear falls down his gorgeous face, violet iris shining bright. You can feel your cunt soaked and throbbing achingly with the view.
He comes in a silent scream, hips bucking as hot loads of his spend fall into your hand and his shaft. You spread some of it around his length, still jerking him off as you help him ride out of his peak, the prince's body spasming.
"That's it," You praise him. "Good boy."
Aemond's breath is heavy as you find his lips, and he struggles to follow your pace, but he tries anyway, messy and urging. "Now you are going to be even nicer and let me use your cock, won't you?" You whisper.
His eye is lidded as he stares at you and nods, and you cannot resist the urge to press two sticky fingers to his curved lips, Aemond opens his mouth with no resistance, licking your hand clean. He's so compliant, somehow still lost in the void between the extraordinary bliss and the present moment.
"Anything for you." He mutters.
You grin. "That is what I like to hear."
Even if not necessarily frequent, happening mostly when he was worn-out or glum, it was rather obvious how letting someone of your position have control over him in bed, one of the very few situations in which you could be so blunt and disrespectful to a high-born, aroused the prince more than he would ever admit, a time in which he could forget about his obligations and just be good to you.
It doesn't take long into your kissing until you can feel him growing hard again, hands eagerly grabbing the hem of your dark red dress and pulling it up around your waist.
"Stupid dress." He complains in between lustful kisses, struggling to get rid of the clothing.
You laugh and help him take it off, throwing your apron and the dress somewhere around his quarters. Aemond instantly latches onto your right breast once you are fully naked, tongue hot and wet twirling around your nipple, and making you shiver and mewl as he sucks it into his mouth as if he is starved, your hand pulling at his braided hair.
Too impatient and greedy, you push him back on the mattress, positioning his member on your wet and tight entrance before lowering yourself down on it. You both moan at the stretch. It is spellbinding the way he watches you on top of him, making you feel like the most desired person in existence, his hands on your hips tightly.
You feel so full and excited you could almost see stars, the position has always been one of your favorites, his cock being able to reach just the right spots in this way.
"Seven, you feel perfect inside me." You gasp, grinding back and forward, your lungs clenching with the sudden and powerful wave of pleasure, so strong it is maddening.
Aemond growls, his body jolting with the motion. "You are a fucking witch, woman."
"For knowing exactly how to deal with you? I might as well be." You grin viciously, your hands resting on his chest.
Your eyes close as you rock your hips slowly and sensually, strained moans already leaving your mouth, and your bud brushing over his pubic bone makes you tremble. It's doubtless the best sensation you have ever felt, his cock dragging against your walls marvelously.
"Fuck, you fit me so well," You say out of breath, fastening your grinding. "Always so good for me, aren't you?"
You lean over slightly, pressing yourself more to him as you begin to bounce on his cock restlessly, the sinful noises echoing in the chamber only increasing your pleasure.
Aemond whimpers, both by the change of the movement and your words. "Always good for you, my love." He repeats, choking out.
Aemond's hands come to grip your ass desperately, certainly to leave bruises later, but now it's nothing but motivating for you.
He suddenly sits you both up, mouth finding one of your breasts again, saliva coating it as he plays with your nipple with tongue and teeth with no care. The sensitivity makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. Delightful yet torturous whimpers on your lips as you continue to ride him mercilessly.
Sweat covers almost all of your body, and you feel as if you were burning from the inside out, the prince not looking any different, his cheeks and nose terribly reddened. You don't even care about the slight throbbing of your legs getting tired, or for the man you were fucking anymore, simply focused on the building of that rapture that feels so close yet so far. Your hold on his shoulders is firm beyond pleasant, but you assume his mind is elsewhere, and not in how your nails are breaking his pale skin.
You needed this badly and you knew you wouldn't last long. The knot inside you tightens hazardously, and you furrow your eyebrows, your bouncing getting even more frenetic. However, as good as it feels, you are growing overwhelmed as you ache for a release that's taking too long to come, somewhat stuck in a sadic joy. You whine out of glee and anticipation, too fucking eager.
"Don't stop, love," Aemond says with a groan, letting go of your breast with a pop to give attention to the other, his sucking sloppy as you pull at his hair harshly. You moan.
Not even in a thousand years you would dare to. When the long-awaited white-hot pleasure slams your body, you feel like ascending to the seven heavens itself. It's astoundingly overpowering at first and then diminishes in ripples as your heart drums painfully inside your chest, cunt fluttering around his member.
Your breath is heavy as you slow down, shivering and a little weary. Aemond moans while watching you come on his cock, and fortunately, he seems disposed to help you as he lays down again, bringing your body flush against his. He seems very roused as he impales you with his cock from beneath, growling into your ears while his hands squeeze your ass possessively.
You whine due to overstimulation, his thrusts are relentless, and the squelching sounds more prominent with how much you soaked his cock not too long ago. You are unsure if you want him to finish already or just keep using your cunt as he wishes regardless of your comfort, and the sheer thought of it inflames you.
It's surprising how fast it comes back, that burning and expectation in your lower stomach, apparently even stronger now. All that was not him and his cock in your womanhood is long forgotten. Blood rushes hot in your veins, high-pitched mewls and low grunts blending.
"By the Seven, Aemond." You hide your face in the crook of his neck, drool dripping from the corner of your mouth.
"Can you give me another one?" Aemond pounds into you harder, the smell of the shea butter and coconut oil from earlier consuming you. "I want to give you another one, beauty. I want to make you feel exceptionally good, yes?"
You try to respond to him but you just babble, teeth biting into the conjecture of his neck and shoulder, painting it red and purple, too dumbfounded to think or to measure your strength. But it seems your bites only incite the silver-haired more, his shoves faster and his groans broken.
One of his hands circles your waist securely to lock you in place, no falter in his thrusts. The wave of elation that suddenly crashes down over you is potent, numbing all your senses for a few seconds, but you are certain you must be screaming as you squirm. Your legs shake tremendously and your eyelids feel heavier.
Your second peak and the clenching of your cunt send Aemond over the edge. He bucks his hips, stilling inside you as he comes with a prolonged and deep grunt, head tilted back and lips parted. You didn't know what good action guaranteed you the privilege to see such a beautiful thing. Getting off him as he tries to regain his breath, a good amount of his warm seed drips in between your thighs, walls spinning as you feel quite faint.
Your back hits the fluffy mattress, your heart pounding in your ears and black dots cover your vision, which is slightly blurry. Shutting your eyes, you could not say how much time has passed as you recompose yourself and wait for your skin to cool down, but when you do, you are shocked to see the prince already soundly asleep next to you, mouth hung open as exhaustion had finally caught up to him after the latest events and your passionate indulgence.
Chuckling, you roll to your side as you watch him, his expression for once serene and breath even. You trace your finger gently across his straight eyebrow while appreciating the details of his face. The concern comes back to torment you as you wonder what the future has reserved for him, but you try to brush it off. You could only pray for his safety.
You recall the first time you saw him sleeping, it was quite unnerving, only the sapphire shining brightly while his good eye rested, but now the gemstone staring back at you was not only usual but comforting, a unique and enchanting charm in your opinion.
After getting up, you grab a cloth to clean the two of you, and although with a drowsy complaint from him, you manage to tuck the one-eyed in warm sheets. You put on your servant robes again and organize the mess you could deal with at the moment, gathering his armor as quietly as you can to be cleaned later. Pecking his pinkish lips slowly, you exit his quarters, feeling completely satisfied.
SUMMARY: aemond needs your assistance after a battle, in more ways than one.
WARNINGS: blood, curse words, smut with plot, use of coconut oil as lube, hand-job, p in v, tits sucking, multiple orgasms, creampie, a hint of sub aemond? oops? :3
WC: 5.3K
NOTES: obviously this is my take on what happened after rook's rest. the show's approach next year will definitely be different. but it's fun working with the book's events and its lack of minor details (you can fill it in however you wish!).
Your eyes flutter open with a jump, a firm hand gripping your shoulder. You didn't remember when you had fallen asleep, or what hour it was, but certainly wasn't the time for your shift yet. It takes a few seconds for your cloudy vision to focus on where you were, now noticing the older servant in front of you, and you look at her dazedly.
"The prince has just arrived, and requests your presence," Annabel explains.
Aemond. Immediate relief washes over you as your face softens. "Very well."
You leave the servants' quarters as fast as you can after fixing your appearance, and as you walk through the halls, you notice the castle is way too agitated. Tension and seriousness ripple in the air, and you start to feel uneasy as well, mind fumbling with numberless possibilities.
It's one of the gold cloaks that finally speaks a little louder, talking fervently about the victory of the greens at the battle of Rook's Rest. It had been quite a few days since their army had marched, and news was often shared about their progression. Usually, you tend to avoid it, since most of it makes you feel sick in your stomach.
Besides the armored man, there is no more commemoration or sense of victory. Not on this side of the castle, at least. Lords were probably planning on throwing banquets, but people like you are too aware of the damages of the war, and how at the end of the day the smallfolk suffer the most. Countless common people would die in the name of greedy royalty that know no limits to their ambition, families ruined beyond repair, a ravaging hunger was plaguing the poorest, and the coffers would soon be emptied, money being spent on battles other than improving the realm and making life easier. It's obvious how no good could ever come regardless of the result of the war.
You find Annabel again, shouting order after order, the middle-aged woman was the one in charge of the servants for a good while now and was a reliable source of information.
"What happened?" You approach her.
"A lot happened, child." Her tone is somber.
"Did someone die?" What a foolish question. Not just someone, but hundreds.
"The queen who never was and her dragon."
You grimace, reminiscing about the princess back when she was visiting the Red Keep. Although such casualties are expected during the war, it is still difficult to grasp that the imposing woman is dead. It's fearful how one's life could be ripped from them so suddenly. A paralyzing concern floods you. Aemond being back does not mean he is unharmed.
"Has the prince been hurt?" Your voice falters, your heart pounding with fear.
Annabel's gaze flickers to your face, and you could see her disapproval, almost making you wish to recoil. But she would never say a thing about your unusual closeness with the prince, being unlike her to intrude in personal affairs. You are aware she doesn't like Aemond or any of the royals, but then again very few did. You have grown to understand it was not only because of his eye, or lack thereof, but because he simply did not inspire sympathy. Aemond is stoic, defensive, and difficult to relate to. You were only one of the very few lucky enough to know better.
"The prince is fine," Annabel says and you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. "However, it is said the king is in critical condition, it is not known if he will recover, and his dragon is unable to fly, one of his wings was damaged during the fight."
You gasp, in your slumber you have forgotten about the man, not being concerned about him in the slightest. Anyhow, you feel your mind almost melting as you process the shocking news and the aftermath of it. If the king were to perish, that means Aemond would be regent until his nephew is of ideal age. Seven. "Poor Sunfyre."
Annabel tries to scold you, but the amusement behind her blue eyes is hard to conceal. "You are pitying the dragon, not the king?"
"Well, people have the free will of choice, and are aware of the consequences their actions might have… a dragon can only obey their rider's command, isn't it right?"
"We cannot say. These magical creatures are beyond our comprehension."
You ponder. "That is true."
After the quick conversation, you make your way to one of the huge kitchens, assuming the prince would probably fancy a bath. Warming up buckets of water, you carry them to Maegor's Holdfast with the help of three other servants.
A strong smell of blood and smoke fills your nose as you enter his quarters, and your eyes widen. The expensive rug is stained and marked by large boots, and even more astounding is the prince's appearance.
Aemond is lounging on a chair close to his study table. His face and hair are covered by blood, ash, and dirt, and splatters of dried blood stains his black and gold armor. His braids are loose, and you can even notice some twigs tangled in his silver strands. However, the prince's hands are the most distressing, gloves discarded at some point and almost fully covered by the red liquid. With a frown, you deduce it must be from his brother's injury. He looks haunting, almighty, and ruthless. There's a scowl on his face, though his eyes seem perturbed.
You notice how the servants' hands seem to tremble slightly as they pour the water into the bathtub in the next room, their eyes never daring to look up while adding some essential oils and chamomile herbs to the water as well, however, you cannot share their fear. All you wish to do is reach out and comfort him. Leaving one of the buckets outside the bathroom, you can see from the corner of your eyes the one-eyed man dismissing the other servants with a wave of a hand, and they seem eager to oblige. You kneel in front of him.
"I am glad you are well," You squeeze his knees. "And tremendously sorry for your brother."
Aemond does not respond, and his gaze is piercing as he stares at you as if memorizing each detail of your face. You don't look away either, a comfortable but powerful silence pairing between the two of you. His fingers slowly graze your cheek, and you do not mind the blood, eyes closing with the delicate caress.
"Help me undress, will you?"
You nod, aware he was never one to talk in deep about his emotions and thoughts, to allow himself to be vulnerable. Nonetheless, you've been noticing this quietness getting worse ever since Storm's End, and although concerned, you would not push him. Especially because you weren't even aware of the extent of your relationship. That he has a certain tenderness for you is clear, but the amount of liberties you could take with the royal is not as much.
Carefully undoing his heavy armor, the pieces fall to the ground with a whump, and the clothes underneath are a lot easier to deal with. His defined body slowly comes into view, a few goosebumps arising on his bare skin with the sudden lack of materials. Aemond's nakedness is of no surprise to you, though you could never help but admire him. Grabbing a cloth you wet it in the bucket nearby and start to clean his face first, hoping to get rid of the thicker layers of dirt before starting the bath.
Your touch is light, afraid to harshly rub any scratches, big or small. "Are you hurt in any way?"
Aemond shakes his head. "None of the blood is mine," He says. "It's from the princess and my brother, and their dragons. I believe some from Lord Staunton and his garrison as well."
You shudder with discomfort and drift your attention to cleaning his hands, the cloth immediately being painted red, you discard it for another as you move to the other hand. You've always enjoyed tending to him.
His hair comes next, and you take off his eyepatch. Undoing the braids is quick, long accustomed to it, though his strands are now sticking and smelling terribly, like a pan that spent too much time on fire, simply nose scrunching and suffocating. Aemond moves his head side to side with a growl after you are done, the bones of his neck cracking.
The prince sighs pleasantly as he enters the tub, and you grab a bowl to wet his hair. The silver strands get soaped quickly as you massage his scalp with both hands, his good eye close, and the sapphire twinkles.
After washing it, you fetch another soap bar, one that the merchant guaranteed you was special, something about adding more oils while making it. There was no harm in trying, and you were surprised by how such a thing made his hair healthier, not as dry which means fewer cuts, and more tamed and lustrous. His strands instantly become more emollient as you run the soap along the length.
Aemond seems completely unbothered as you get to scrub his body, the fine hairs covering his arms and legs so light it's barely visible. It's, in fact, a moment of relaxation and customariness, a routine for both of you. But the water is already dirty and gray by now, and you cannot help but recall it's not only ashes and dirt but also the mixed blood of people and beasts alike. Some perished.
You do not notice the silver-haired staring at you until he speaks. "You do not seem very pleased."
You raise your eyebrows. "Is there something to be pleased about?"
"Is there not?" He squints his eye. "We have just won a battle."
"Congratulations."
"Your sincerity is appreciated." His voice is dripping with sarcasm. "You know you can speak freely with me." He studies your face.
You bite your lips, focusing on the task at hand and adding more soap to the scrubber. The prince would never understand your point, so you would rather avoid a useless discussion. Especially today.
Unfortunately, he doesn't give up, cocking his head. "What is restraining you from doing so? Are you disgusted? Would you prefer me to not have killed all those cunty traitors?" His voice is low, dangerous. "Would you prefer to have that whore sitting on the throne? Is that the reason for your unpleasantness? Do you believe she's more suitable than my brother? Than me?"
You look at him sternly, the scrubber falling to the water with a splash. His face is now a lot closer to yours, but he does not intimidate you, never did, and probably never will. But he hits a nerve, and your mouth moves even before you could notice you were speaking.
"I would prefer your family to resolve the succession issue in another way other than submitting the kingdom to a devastating war with horrendous consequences, for all of you certainly, as proved by your nephew's death and older brother's injury now, but mostly, innocent people that have nothing to do with your schemes." Your voice holds a cold rage. "That is my opinion if it's of any importance to you, but I highly doubt it."
Aemond scoffs, shaking his head and averting his eye for a minute. His finger rests on top of his mouth, and there's still blood underneath his nails. He inhales to control his annoyance. He looks like he's going to say something, but then changes his mind, closing his lips and opting for another choice of words.
"You would not understand it, as a commoner." He looks at you up and down, not with the usual desire, but with a hint of superiority now, clear in how the corner of his lip twitches upward dismissively.
You are quick to respond. "Nor would you, as a prince."
Deafening silence. You have a good point, the drastic difference in your backgrounds would never let you completely understand one another's views and priorities. Aemond sighs.
"You are lucky I am fond of you." A truce.
You chuckle. "And I do not dislike you entirely."
The prince smiles, tight-lipped, but it is lovely, showing off his beautiful dimples. The rest of the bath goes calmly as you resume the chore. You wrap his hair in a cotton towel, and his body in a linen one. You leave the prince to dry himself while you make your way to the bedchamber, gathering loose mud green trousers and some shea butter.
The one-eyed stands in his full glory as you spread the product all over his lean body. Back, arms, chest, and stomach, then his legs. When you get up from your kneeling position, his hand wraps around your neck swiftly, bringing your body forward and kissing you.
You return it immediately, deep and eager. However, it's also contemplative and cozy, almost lazy as you taste one another. Your hand rests on his forearm, the softness and warmth of his lips never failing to get you weak on the knees, and he smells great now, fresh. Your eyes seem unable to open as you get lost in the small kisses and teases.
"Do not resent me, beauty." He says as you part.
You smile against his mouth, you thought it was precious when he got like this, clingy in his way. It was only on these rare occasions that he let his pride and loftiness aside, and would do everything to prevent you from being upset with him. Seeking your comfort in such an intense manner it was flattering.
A verbal answer doesn't leave your lips, you just kiss him again, and it's enough. "Get dressed and sit down." You motion to the dressing table, throwing the trousers at him.
You comb his hair delicately, adding some sunflower oil to his scalp before braiding his damp hair, he prefers it this way, claiming it was the only way it wouldn't get tangled up in the morning. You start from his very root, sectioning small amounts of silver hair and crossing them over in between your fingers, slowly but surely creating a beautiful and tight pattern. It's not a fast process, but you delight in it and you suspect so does the man in front of you, almost purring as you work. Tying the end of it, you rub his shoulders affectionately, his skin always warm beneath your palms.
"I am sore," Aemond complains. "A massage would be great."
You grin, pecking his cheek from behind. "As you wish, my Prince."
He is truly very tense, and you cannot fathom how distressing all that he witnessed is. You suppose it was a life-changing experience, in the worst way possible. It was clear how his eye hardened considerably in a short time. You would have surely run to the hills in his place, but he doesn't. He breathes and keeps his composure, hiding away all his fright, pretending to be indifferent, that he accepts his duty and the price of it gladly. But nobody would, less they lacked emotions.
Aemond lays down on his stomach, folding his arms above his head. Grabbing a bottle of coconut oil from the table, you take off your shoes and raise your dress to your knees before crawling on the bed to sit on top of his butt.
His body jolts as you drip a generous amount of oil on his large back, his muscles flexing. His body is so magnificent you could easily imagine a greater force meticulously creating each detail of it. Aemond moans the moment your hands start to caress his lower back. Your first touches are gentle, tracing circles up and down with your fingertips, mapping where you can feel some knots. Your hands move from his sides, to his shoulders, and up to the back of his neck, pinching it slightly.
"Fuck," Aemond grunts, voice muffled by the mattress. "This feels nice."
You add more pressure, stroking his back up and down, and after a few minutes back to tracing firm circles, this time with the heel of your hand. The prince is unable to contain noises of pleasure. Laying one of your hands on top of the other, you start the process of pushing his spine, once again beginning down and going up. A few cracks are heard.
Then, you add gentle pressure with your thumbs on his knots, his grunts are now a little bit more uncomfortable, but it's necessary. After you are done, you softly knead his back up and down, and then start switching between circling and stroking.
Aemond's moans along with the feel of his skin start to alight a desire in you, your lower stomach tingling in a known and annoying manner, womanhood pulsating with each new sound. It doesn't help how your filthy encounters had been becoming less frequent, the prince growing too busy with the war, and often you would feel bothered and insatiable.
It's unconscious the way you start rubbing on him, trying to relieve the ache you feel, and you do not realize what you are doing until he grips your thigh, halting your tentative movements at once.
"Stop teasing." He warns.
You stammer, a bit embarrassed. "I'm not, I–"
Suddenly you are pinned down by the prince, your positions switched as you utter your confusion by the suddenness. You should've been used to his strength and fast reflexes by now. "Do you deem your behavior acceptable?"
You swallow, trying not to smile, and feign innocence. "I have no clue what you are talking about."
"Oh, yes? You are unaware you were rubbing yourself on me like a bitch in heat?"
"I would never do that, my Prince."
"You would never…?" He chuckles, feeling amused.
"During my work? No." You shake your head in denial.
"So, if I touch your cunt right now, you would not be wet?" He cocks his head.
You bite your lips. "Not at all."
"Forgive me for not believing your words, but I shall need proof." Aemond's hand sneaks under your dress, fingers moving slowly from your shin to your thigh, his eye never leaving yours, daring.
You giggle when his finger parts your folds, rubbing the dampness between your legs. You buck your hips, in need of more friction.
"Liar." Aemond disregards with a click of his tongue, his violet pupil blown out as he circles your bud.
"Aemond." You gasp, eyes closing.
"Do you think you deserve it?"
"Yes, I've been taking care of you so well..." You try to negotiate.
"But I deserve so much more attention, don't you agree?" He kisses and licks your collarbone, finger never faltering, teasing.
"More?" Your breath is labored, and your voice is weak. His hand leaves your heat.
"I have killed a whole other dragon. It is not frequently one can say it. Yes, I believe I am due special treatment." He faces you again.
"I see," You grin. "You want me to do all the work?" Your lips brush his. "Such an idle prince." You provoke.
"Watch your mouth," He warns, pecking you. "I am merely tired. It's been eventful."
"Conveniently for you, I am feeling generous today." Your hands trail his bare waist.
"You are?" He smirks, nose touching yours.
"Uh-huh, and very happy you are unscathed."
"Show me, then," Aemond kisses your jaw. "Just how grateful you are."
The kiss you share is lecherous, wet, and rushed. Aemond does not fight you as you flip your bodies over and climb onto his lap, an evident bulge in the thin trousers that contours all of his cock tantalizingly. Even the clothed friction makes you both shudder, and you gather all of your strength to not start instantly grinding on his shaft.
You pull his trousers down, and his manhood springs free. Big, thick, veiny. Dripping coconut oil on your hands, you rub them together. Aemond wets his lips in anticipation.
Your hand slides through his length with no difficulty with the help of the oil, and the smell of it is delicious. You start jerking him off, and the prince hums in satisfaction.
Aemond wasn't the most vocal in bed, you realized it soon into your affair, but with time you had discovered the exceptions, the things that would make him forget all about his inhibitions and scream in pleasure.
After stroking him for a while, you cup one of your hands, very slowly circling his tip with the palm of your oily hand, fingertips dragging up and down his length while you do so. Aemond breathes sharply, his stomach twitching.
"Seven hells, love." He mutters with a tight hold on the sheets due to his sensitivity. You smile.
You focus on your fingertips, running them up and down his shaft lightly. Aemond adored the delicacy of the movement, the gentle yet torturous pressure, promising and unforgiving, kind and cruel. Then you circle his head again, again, and again. Careful to not hurt him. Aemond grunts, his eyebrows pinching together and face completely flushed as he bites his lips harshly, trying to hold back his moans, but you know it won't last long.
"Stop, it 's too much." He whines, but the delighted sound that escapes his mouth tells you to do anything but, his body trembling.
"Aw," You coo mockingly. "We know you can take it, my Prince."
You add more oil to your hands, holding his length and rotating your wrist as your palm rubs over his tip and shaft over and over. He completely let go as he closes his eye, his grunts being replaced by enchanting high-pitched and broken moans. It's quite pathetic the sight of him, the mighty and fearsome prince so supple on your hands, forehead glistening with sweat and breath erratic. Anyone outside could hear him.
"My love, please." He begs in the middle of whimpers, all of his body hair stirred up.
"Please what, my dear?" You ask innocently.
Aemond squirms. "I need to come," He gasps. "Please, please, please."
"Since you asked so nicely…"
You change the movement, keeping it only on his sensitive head, your other hand squeezing his balls. His voice gets louder, face twisted in pleasure as a tear falls down his gorgeous face, violet iris shining bright. You can feel your cunt soaked and throbbing achingly with the view.
He comes in a silent scream, hips bucking as hot loads of his spend fall into your hand and his shaft. You spread some of it around his length, still jerking him off as you help him ride out of his peak, the prince's body spasming.
"That's it," You praise him. "Good boy."
Aemond's breath is heavy as you find his lips, and he struggles to follow your pace, but he tries anyway, messy and urging. "Now you are going to be even nicer and let me use your cock, won't you?" You whisper.
His eye is lidded as he stares at you and nods, and you cannot resist the urge to press two sticky fingers to his curved lips, Aemond opens his mouth with no resistance, licking your hand clean. He's so compliant, somehow still lost in the void between the extraordinary bliss and the present moment.
"Anything for you." He mutters.
You grin. "That is what I like to hear."
Even if not necessarily frequent, happening mostly when he was worn-out or glum, it was rather obvious how letting someone of your position have control over him in bed, one of the very few situations in which you could be so blunt and disrespectful to a high-born, aroused the prince more than he would ever admit, a time in which he could forget about his obligations and just be good to you.
It doesn't take long into your kissing until you can feel him growing hard again, hands eagerly grabbing the hem of your dark red dress and pulling it up around your waist.
"Stupid dress." He complains in between lustful kisses, struggling to get rid of the clothing.
You laugh and help him take it off, throwing your apron and the dress somewhere around his quarters. Aemond instantly latches onto your right breast once you are fully naked, tongue hot and wet twirling around your nipple, and making you shiver and mewl as he sucks it into his mouth as if he is starved, your hand pulling at his braided hair.
Too impatient and greedy, you push him back on the mattress, positioning his member on your wet and tight entrance before lowering yourself down on it. You both moan at the stretch. It is spellbinding the way he watches you on top of him, making you feel like the most desired person in existence, his hands on your hips tightly.
You feel so full and excited you could almost see stars, the position has always been one of your favorites, his cock being able to reach just the right spots in this way.
"Seven, you feel perfect inside me." You gasp, grinding back and forward, your lungs clenching with the sudden and powerful wave of pleasure, so strong it is maddening.
Aemond growls, his body jolting with the motion. "You are a fucking witch, woman."
"For knowing exactly how to deal with you? I might as well be." You grin viciously, your hands resting on his chest.
Your eyes close as you rock your hips slowly and sensually, strained moans already leaving your mouth, and your bud brushing over his pubic bone makes you tremble. It's doubtless the best sensation you have ever felt, his cock dragging against your walls marvelously.
"Fuck, you fit me so well," You say out of breath, fastening your grinding. "Always so good for me, aren't you?"
You lean over slightly, pressing yourself more to him as you begin to bounce on his cock restlessly, the sinful noises echoing in the chamber only increasing your pleasure.
Aemond whimpers, both by the change of the movement and your words. "Always good for you, my love." He repeats, choking out.
Aemond's hands come to grip your ass desperately, certainly to leave bruises later, but now it's nothing but motivating for you.
He suddenly sits you both up, mouth finding one of your breasts again, saliva coating it as he plays with your nipple with tongue and teeth with no care. The sensitivity makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. Delightful yet torturous whimpers on your lips as you continue to ride him mercilessly.
Sweat covers almost all of your body, and you feel as if you were burning from the inside out, the prince not looking any different, his cheeks and nose terribly reddened. You don't even care about the slight throbbing of your legs getting tired, or for the man you were fucking anymore, simply focused on the building of that rapture that feels so close yet so far. Your hold on his shoulders is firm beyond pleasant, but you assume his mind is elsewhere, and not in how your nails are breaking his pale skin.
You needed this badly and you knew you wouldn't last long. The knot inside you tightens hazardously, and you furrow your eyebrows, your bouncing getting even more frenetic. However, as good as it feels, you are growing overwhelmed as you ache for a release that's taking too long to come, somewhat stuck in a sadic joy. You whine out of glee and anticipation, too fucking eager.
"Don't stop, love," Aemond says with a groan, letting go of your breast with a pop to give attention to the other, his sucking sloppy as you pull at his hair harshly. You moan.
Not even in a thousand years you would dare to. When the long-awaited white-hot pleasure slams your body, you feel like ascending to the seven heavens itself. It's astoundingly overpowering at first and then diminishes in ripples as your heart drums painfully inside your chest, cunt fluttering around his member.
Your breath is heavy as you slow down, shivering and a little weary. Aemond moans while watching you come on his cock, and fortunately, he seems disposed to help you as he lays down again, bringing your body flush against his. He seems very roused as he impales you with his cock from beneath, growling into your ears while his hands squeeze your ass possessively.
You whine due to overstimulation, his thrusts are relentless, and the squelching sounds more prominent with how much you soaked his cock not too long ago. You are unsure if you want him to finish already or just keep using your cunt as he wishes regardless of your comfort, and the sheer thought of it inflames you.
It's surprising how fast it comes back, that burning and expectation in your lower stomach, apparently even stronger now. All that was not him and his cock in your womanhood is long forgotten. Blood rushes hot in your veins, high-pitched mewls and low grunts blending.
"By the Seven, Aemond." You hide your face in the crook of his neck, drool dripping from the corner of your mouth.
"Can you give me another one?" Aemond pounds into you harder, the smell of the shea butter and coconut oil from earlier consuming you. "I want to give you another one, beauty. I want to make you feel exceptionally good, yes?"
You try to respond to him but you just babble, teeth biting into the conjecture of his neck and shoulder, painting it red and purple, too dumbfounded to think or to measure your strength. But it seems your bites only incite the silver-haired more, his shoves faster and his groans broken.
One of his hands circles your waist securely to lock you in place, no falter in his thrusts. The wave of elation that suddenly crashes down over you is potent, numbing all your senses for a few seconds, but you are certain you must be screaming as you squirm. Your legs shake tremendously and your eyelids feel heavier.
Your second peak and the clenching of your cunt send Aemond over the edge. He bucks his hips, stilling inside you as he comes with a prolonged and deep grunt, head tilted back and lips parted. You didn't know what good action guaranteed you the privilege to see such a beautiful thing. Getting off him as he tries to regain his breath, a good amount of his warm seed drips in between your thighs, walls spinning as you feel quite faint.
Your back hits the fluffy mattress, your heart pounding in your ears and black dots cover your vision, which is slightly blurry. Shutting your eyes, you could not say how much time has passed as you recompose yourself and wait for your skin to cool down, but when you do, you are shocked to see the prince already soundly asleep next to you, mouth hung open as exhaustion had finally caught up to him after the latest events and your passionate indulgence.
Chuckling, you roll to your side as you watch him, his expression for once serene and breath even. You trace your finger gently across his straight eyebrow while appreciating the details of his face. The concern comes back to torment you as you wonder what the future has reserved for him, but you try to brush it off. You could only pray for his safety.
You recall the first time you saw him sleeping, it was quite unnerving, only the sapphire shining brightly while his good eye rested, but now the gemstone staring back at you was not only usual but comforting, a unique and enchanting charm in your opinion.
After getting up, you grab a cloth to clean the two of you, and although with a drowsy complaint from him, you manage to tuck the one-eyed in warm sheets. You put on your servant robes again and organize the mess you could deal with at the moment, gathering his armor as quietly as you can to be cleaned later. Pecking his pinkish lips slowly, you exit his quarters, feeling completely satisfied.
SUMMARY: aemond needs your assistance after a battle, in more ways than one.
WARNINGS: blood, curse words, smut with plot, use of coconut oil as lube, hand-job, p in v, tits sucking, multiple orgasms, creampie, a hint of sub aemond? oops? :3
WC: 5.3K
NOTES: obviously this is my take on what happened after rook's rest. the show's approach next year will definitely be different. but it's fun working with the book's events and its lack of minor details (you can fill it in however you wish!).
Your eyes flutter open with a jump, a firm hand gripping your shoulder. You didn't remember when you had fallen asleep, or what hour it was, but certainly wasn't the time for your shift yet. It takes a few seconds for your cloudy vision to focus on where you were, now noticing the older servant in front of you, and you look at her dazedly.
"The prince has just arrived, and requests your presence," Annabel explains.
Aemond. Immediate relief washes over you as your face softens. "Very well."
You leave the servants' quarters as fast as you can after fixing your appearance, and as you walk through the halls, you notice the castle is way too agitated. Tension and seriousness ripple in the air, and you start to feel uneasy as well, mind fumbling with numberless possibilities.
It's one of the gold cloaks that finally speaks a little louder, talking fervently about the victory of the greens at the battle of Rook's Rest. It had been quite a few days since their army had marched, and news was often shared about their progression. Usually, you tend to avoid it, since most of it makes you feel sick in your stomach.
Besides the armored man, there is no more commemoration or sense of victory. Not on this side of the castle, at least. Lords were probably planning on throwing banquets, but people like you are too aware of the damages of the war, and how at the end of the day the smallfolk suffer the most. Countless common people would die in the name of greedy royalty that know no limits to their ambition, families ruined beyond repair, a ravaging hunger was plaguing the poorest, and the coffers would soon be emptied, money being spent on battles other than improving the realm and making life easier. It's obvious how no good could ever come regardless of the result of the war.
You find Annabel again, shouting order after order, the middle-aged woman was the one in charge of the servants for a good while now and was a reliable source of information.
"What happened?" You approach her.
"A lot happened, child." Her tone is somber.
"Did someone die?" What a foolish question. Not just someone, but hundreds.
"The queen who never was and her dragon."
You grimace, reminiscing about the princess back when she was visiting the Red Keep. Although such casualties are expected during the war, it is still difficult to grasp that the imposing woman is dead. It's fearful how one's life could be ripped from them so suddenly. A paralyzing concern floods you. Aemond being back does not mean he is unharmed.
"Has the prince been hurt?" Your voice falters, your heart pounding with fear.
Annabel's gaze flickers to your face, and you could see her disapproval, almost making you wish to recoil. But she would never say a thing about your unusual closeness with the prince, being unlike her to intrude in personal affairs. You are aware she doesn't like Aemond or any of the royals, but then again very few did. You have grown to understand it was not only because of his eye, or lack thereof, but because he simply did not inspire sympathy. Aemond is stoic, defensive, and difficult to relate to. You were only one of the very few lucky enough to know better.
"The prince is fine," Annabel says and you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. "However, it is said the king is in critical condition, it is not known if he will recover, and his dragon is unable to fly, one of his wings was damaged during the fight."
You gasp, in your slumber you have forgotten about the man, not being concerned about him in the slightest. Anyhow, you feel your mind almost melting as you process the shocking news and the aftermath of it. If the king were to perish, that means Aemond would be regent until his nephew is of ideal age. Seven. "Poor Sunfyre."
Annabel tries to scold you, but the amusement behind her blue eyes is hard to conceal. "You are pitying the dragon, not the king?"
"Well, people have the free will of choice, and are aware of the consequences their actions might have… a dragon can only obey their rider's command, isn't it right?"
"We cannot say. These magical creatures are beyond our comprehension."
You ponder. "That is true."
After the quick conversation, you make your way to one of the huge kitchens, assuming the prince would probably fancy a bath. Warming up buckets of water, you carry them to Maegor's Holdfast with the help of three other servants.
A strong smell of blood and smoke fills your nose as you enter his quarters, and your eyes widen. The expensive rug is stained and marked by large boots, and even more astounding is the prince's appearance.
Aemond is lounging on a chair close to his study table. His face and hair are covered by blood, ash, and dirt, and splatters of dried blood stains his black and gold armor. His braids are loose, and you can even notice some twigs tangled in his silver strands. However, the prince's hands are the most distressing, gloves discarded at some point and almost fully covered by the red liquid. With a frown, you deduce it must be from his brother's injury. He looks haunting, almighty, and ruthless. There's a scowl on his face, though his eyes seem perturbed.
You notice how the servants' hands seem to tremble slightly as they pour the water into the bathtub in the next room, their eyes never daring to look up while adding some essential oils and chamomile herbs to the water as well, however, you cannot share their fear. All you wish to do is reach out and comfort him. Leaving one of the buckets outside the bathroom, you can see from the corner of your eyes the one-eyed man dismissing the other servants with a wave of a hand, and they seem eager to oblige. You kneel in front of him.
"I am glad you are well," You squeeze his knees. "And tremendously sorry for your brother."
Aemond does not respond, and his gaze is piercing as he stares at you as if memorizing each detail of your face. You don't look away either, a comfortable but powerful silence pairing between the two of you. His fingers slowly graze your cheek, and you do not mind the blood, eyes closing with the delicate caress.
"Help me undress, will you?"
You nod, aware he was never one to talk in deep about his emotions and thoughts, to allow himself to be vulnerable. Nonetheless, you've been noticing this quietness getting worse ever since Storm's End, and although concerned, you would not push him. Especially because you weren't even aware of the extent of your relationship. That he has a certain tenderness for you is clear, but the amount of liberties you could take with the royal is not as much.
Carefully undoing his heavy armor, the pieces fall to the ground with a whump, and the clothes underneath are a lot easier to deal with. His defined body slowly comes into view, a few goosebumps arising on his bare skin with the sudden lack of materials. Aemond's nakedness is of no surprise to you, though you could never help but admire him. Grabbing a cloth you wet it in the bucket nearby and start to clean his face first, hoping to get rid of the thicker layers of dirt before starting the bath.
Your touch is light, afraid to harshly rub any scratches, big or small. "Are you hurt in any way?"
Aemond shakes his head. "None of the blood is mine," He says. "It's from the princess and my brother, and their dragons. I believe some from Lord Staunton and his garrison as well."
You shudder with discomfort and drift your attention to cleaning his hands, the cloth immediately being painted red, you discard it for another as you move to the other hand. You've always enjoyed tending to him.
His hair comes next, and you take off his eyepatch. Undoing the braids is quick, long accustomed to it, though his strands are now sticking and smelling terribly, like a pan that spent too much time on fire, simply nose scrunching and suffocating. Aemond moves his head side to side with a growl after you are done, the bones of his neck cracking.
The prince sighs pleasantly as he enters the tub, and you grab a bowl to wet his hair. The silver strands get soaped quickly as you massage his scalp with both hands, his good eye close, and the sapphire twinkles.
After washing it, you fetch another soap bar, one that the merchant guaranteed you was special, something about adding more oils while making it. There was no harm in trying, and you were surprised by how such a thing made his hair healthier, not as dry which means fewer cuts, and more tamed and lustrous. His strands instantly become more emollient as you run the soap along the length.
Aemond seems completely unbothered as you get to scrub his body, the fine hairs covering his arms and legs so light it's barely visible. It's, in fact, a moment of relaxation and customariness, a routine for both of you. But the water is already dirty and gray by now, and you cannot help but recall it's not only ashes and dirt but also the mixed blood of people and beasts alike. Some perished.
You do not notice the silver-haired staring at you until he speaks. "You do not seem very pleased."
You raise your eyebrows. "Is there something to be pleased about?"
"Is there not?" He squints his eye. "We have just won a battle."
"Congratulations."
"Your sincerity is appreciated." His voice is dripping with sarcasm. "You know you can speak freely with me." He studies your face.
You bite your lips, focusing on the task at hand and adding more soap to the scrubber. The prince would never understand your point, so you would rather avoid a useless discussion. Especially today.
Unfortunately, he doesn't give up, cocking his head. "What is restraining you from doing so? Are you disgusted? Would you prefer me to not have killed all those cunty traitors?" His voice is low, dangerous. "Would you prefer to have that whore sitting on the throne? Is that the reason for your unpleasantness? Do you believe she's more suitable than my brother? Than me?"
You look at him sternly, the scrubber falling to the water with a splash. His face is now a lot closer to yours, but he does not intimidate you, never did, and probably never will. But he hits a nerve, and your mouth moves even before you could notice you were speaking.
"I would prefer your family to resolve the succession issue in another way other than submitting the kingdom to a devastating war with horrendous consequences, for all of you certainly, as proved by your nephew's death and older brother's injury now, but mostly, innocent people that have nothing to do with your schemes." Your voice holds a cold rage. "That is my opinion if it's of any importance to you, but I highly doubt it."
Aemond scoffs, shaking his head and averting his eye for a minute. His finger rests on top of his mouth, and there's still blood underneath his nails. He inhales to control his annoyance. He looks like he's going to say something, but then changes his mind, closing his lips and opting for another choice of words.
"You would not understand it, as a commoner." He looks at you up and down, not with the usual desire, but with a hint of superiority now, clear in how the corner of his lip twitches upward dismissively.
You are quick to respond. "Nor would you, as a prince."
Deafening silence. You have a good point, the drastic difference in your backgrounds would never let you completely understand one another's views and priorities. Aemond sighs.
"You are lucky I am fond of you." A truce.
You chuckle. "And I do not dislike you entirely."
The prince smiles, tight-lipped, but it is lovely, showing off his beautiful dimples. The rest of the bath goes calmly as you resume the chore. You wrap his hair in a cotton towel, and his body in a linen one. You leave the prince to dry himself while you make your way to the bedchamber, gathering loose mud green trousers and some shea butter.
The one-eyed stands in his full glory as you spread the product all over his lean body. Back, arms, chest, and stomach, then his legs. When you get up from your kneeling position, his hand wraps around your neck swiftly, bringing your body forward and kissing you.
You return it immediately, deep and eager. However, it's also contemplative and cozy, almost lazy as you taste one another. Your hand rests on his forearm, the softness and warmth of his lips never failing to get you weak on the knees, and he smells great now, fresh. Your eyes seem unable to open as you get lost in the small kisses and teases.
"Do not resent me, beauty." He says as you part.
You smile against his mouth, you thought it was precious when he got like this, clingy in his way. It was only on these rare occasions that he let his pride and loftiness aside, and would do everything to prevent you from being upset with him. Seeking your comfort in such an intense manner it was flattering.
A verbal answer doesn't leave your lips, you just kiss him again, and it's enough. "Get dressed and sit down." You motion to the dressing table, throwing the trousers at him.
You comb his hair delicately, adding some sunflower oil to his scalp before braiding his damp hair, he prefers it this way, claiming it was the only way it wouldn't get tangled up in the morning. You start from his very root, sectioning small amounts of silver hair and crossing them over in between your fingers, slowly but surely creating a beautiful and tight pattern. It's not a fast process, but you delight in it and you suspect so does the man in front of you, almost purring as you work. Tying the end of it, you rub his shoulders affectionately, his skin always warm beneath your palms.
"I am sore," Aemond complains. "A massage would be great."
You grin, pecking his cheek from behind. "As you wish, my Prince."
He is truly very tense, and you cannot fathom how distressing all that he witnessed is. You suppose it was a life-changing experience, in the worst way possible. It was clear how his eye hardened considerably in a short time. You would have surely run to the hills in his place, but he doesn't. He breathes and keeps his composure, hiding away all his fright, pretending to be indifferent, that he accepts his duty and the price of it gladly. But nobody would, less they lacked emotions.
Aemond lays down on his stomach, folding his arms above his head. Grabbing a bottle of coconut oil from the table, you take off your shoes and raise your dress to your knees before crawling on the bed to sit on top of his butt.
His body jolts as you drip a generous amount of oil on his large back, his muscles flexing. His body is so magnificent you could easily imagine a greater force meticulously creating each detail of it. Aemond moans the moment your hands start to caress his lower back. Your first touches are gentle, tracing circles up and down with your fingertips, mapping where you can feel some knots. Your hands move from his sides, to his shoulders, and up to the back of his neck, pinching it slightly.
"Fuck," Aemond grunts, voice muffled by the mattress. "This feels nice."
You add more pressure, stroking his back up and down, and after a few minutes back to tracing firm circles, this time with the heel of your hand. The prince is unable to contain noises of pleasure. Laying one of your hands on top of the other, you start the process of pushing his spine, once again beginning down and going up. A few cracks are heard.
Then, you add gentle pressure with your thumbs on his knots, his grunts are now a little bit more uncomfortable, but it's necessary. After you are done, you softly knead his back up and down, and then start switching between circling and stroking.
Aemond's moans along with the feel of his skin start to alight a desire in you, your lower stomach tingling in a known and annoying manner, womanhood pulsating with each new sound. It doesn't help how your filthy encounters had been becoming less frequent, the prince growing too busy with the war, and often you would feel bothered and insatiable.
It's unconscious the way you start rubbing on him, trying to relieve the ache you feel, and you do not realize what you are doing until he grips your thigh, halting your tentative movements at once.
"Stop teasing." He warns.
You stammer, a bit embarrassed. "I'm not, I–"
Suddenly you are pinned down by the prince, your positions switched as you utter your confusion by the suddenness. You should've been used to his strength and fast reflexes by now. "Do you deem your behavior acceptable?"
You swallow, trying not to smile, and feign innocence. "I have no clue what you are talking about."
"Oh, yes? You are unaware you were rubbing yourself on me like a bitch in heat?"
"I would never do that, my Prince."
"You would never…?" He chuckles, feeling amused.
"During my work? No." You shake your head in denial.
"So, if I touch your cunt right now, you would not be wet?" He cocks his head.
You bite your lips. "Not at all."
"Forgive me for not believing your words, but I shall need proof." Aemond's hand sneaks under your dress, fingers moving slowly from your shin to your thigh, his eye never leaving yours, daring.
You giggle when his finger parts your folds, rubbing the dampness between your legs. You buck your hips, in need of more friction.
"Liar." Aemond disregards with a click of his tongue, his violet pupil blown out as he circles your bud.
"Aemond." You gasp, eyes closing.
"Do you think you deserve it?"
"Yes, I've been taking care of you so well..." You try to negotiate.
"But I deserve so much more attention, don't you agree?" He kisses and licks your collarbone, finger never faltering, teasing.
"More?" Your breath is labored, and your voice is weak. His hand leaves your heat.
"I have killed a whole other dragon. It is not frequently one can say it. Yes, I believe I am due special treatment." He faces you again.
"I see," You grin. "You want me to do all the work?" Your lips brush his. "Such an idle prince." You provoke.
"Watch your mouth," He warns, pecking you. "I am merely tired. It's been eventful."
"Conveniently for you, I am feeling generous today." Your hands trail his bare waist.
"You are?" He smirks, nose touching yours.
"Uh-huh, and very happy you are unscathed."
"Show me, then," Aemond kisses your jaw. "Just how grateful you are."
The kiss you share is lecherous, wet, and rushed. Aemond does not fight you as you flip your bodies over and climb onto his lap, an evident bulge in the thin trousers that contours all of his cock tantalizingly. Even the clothed friction makes you both shudder, and you gather all of your strength to not start instantly grinding on his shaft.
You pull his trousers down, and his manhood springs free. Big, thick, veiny. Dripping coconut oil on your hands, you rub them together. Aemond wets his lips in anticipation.
Your hand slides through his length with no difficulty with the help of the oil, and the smell of it is delicious. You start jerking him off, and the prince hums in satisfaction.
Aemond wasn't the most vocal in bed, you realized it soon into your affair, but with time you had discovered the exceptions, the things that would make him forget all about his inhibitions and scream in pleasure.
After stroking him for a while, you cup one of your hands, very slowly circling his tip with the palm of your oily hand, fingertips dragging up and down his length while you do so. Aemond breathes sharply, his stomach twitching.
"Seven hells, love." He mutters with a tight hold on the sheets due to his sensitivity. You smile.
You focus on your fingertips, running them up and down his shaft lightly. Aemond adored the delicacy of the movement, the gentle yet torturous pressure, promising and unforgiving, kind and cruel. Then you circle his head again, again, and again. Careful to not hurt him. Aemond grunts, his eyebrows pinching together and face completely flushed as he bites his lips harshly, trying to hold back his moans, but you know it won't last long.
"Stop, it 's too much." He whines, but the delighted sound that escapes his mouth tells you to do anything but, his body trembling.
"Aw," You coo mockingly. "We know you can take it, my Prince."
You add more oil to your hands, holding his length and rotating your wrist as your palm rubs over his tip and shaft over and over. He completely let go as he closes his eye, his grunts being replaced by enchanting high-pitched and broken moans. It's quite pathetic the sight of him, the mighty and fearsome prince so supple on your hands, forehead glistening with sweat and breath erratic. Anyone outside could hear him.
"My love, please." He begs in the middle of whimpers, all of his body hair stirred up.
"Please what, my dear?" You ask innocently.
Aemond squirms. "I need to come," He gasps. "Please, please, please."
"Since you asked so nicely…"
You change the movement, keeping it only on his sensitive head, your other hand squeezing his balls. His voice gets louder, face twisted in pleasure as a tear falls down his gorgeous face, violet iris shining bright. You can feel your cunt soaked and throbbing achingly with the view.
He comes in a silent scream, hips bucking as hot loads of his spend fall into your hand and his shaft. You spread some of it around his length, still jerking him off as you help him ride out of his peak, the prince's body spasming.
"That's it," You praise him. "Good boy."
Aemond's breath is heavy as you find his lips, and he struggles to follow your pace, but he tries anyway, messy and urging. "Now you are going to be even nicer and let me use your cock, won't you?" You whisper.
His eye is lidded as he stares at you and nods, and you cannot resist the urge to press two sticky fingers to his curved lips, Aemond opens his mouth with no resistance, licking your hand clean. He's so compliant, somehow still lost in the void between the extraordinary bliss and the present moment.
"Anything for you." He mutters.
You grin. "That is what I like to hear."
Even if not necessarily frequent, happening mostly when he was worn-out or glum, it was rather obvious how letting someone of your position have control over him in bed, one of the very few situations in which you could be so blunt and disrespectful to a high-born, aroused the prince more than he would ever admit, a time in which he could forget about his obligations and just be good to you.
It doesn't take long into your kissing until you can feel him growing hard again, hands eagerly grabbing the hem of your dark red dress and pulling it up around your waist.
"Stupid dress." He complains in between lustful kisses, struggling to get rid of the clothing.
You laugh and help him take it off, throwing your apron and the dress somewhere around his quarters. Aemond instantly latches onto your right breast once you are fully naked, tongue hot and wet twirling around your nipple, and making you shiver and mewl as he sucks it into his mouth as if he is starved, your hand pulling at his braided hair.
Too impatient and greedy, you push him back on the mattress, positioning his member on your wet and tight entrance before lowering yourself down on it. You both moan at the stretch. It is spellbinding the way he watches you on top of him, making you feel like the most desired person in existence, his hands on your hips tightly.
You feel so full and excited you could almost see stars, the position has always been one of your favorites, his cock being able to reach just the right spots in this way.
"Seven, you feel perfect inside me." You gasp, grinding back and forward, your lungs clenching with the sudden and powerful wave of pleasure, so strong it is maddening.
Aemond growls, his body jolting with the motion. "You are a fucking witch, woman."
"For knowing exactly how to deal with you? I might as well be." You grin viciously, your hands resting on his chest.
Your eyes close as you rock your hips slowly and sensually, strained moans already leaving your mouth, and your bud brushing over his pubic bone makes you tremble. It's doubtless the best sensation you have ever felt, his cock dragging against your walls marvelously.
"Fuck, you fit me so well," You say out of breath, fastening your grinding. "Always so good for me, aren't you?"
You lean over slightly, pressing yourself more to him as you begin to bounce on his cock restlessly, the sinful noises echoing in the chamber only increasing your pleasure.
Aemond whimpers, both by the change of the movement and your words. "Always good for you, my love." He repeats, choking out.
Aemond's hands come to grip your ass desperately, certainly to leave bruises later, but now it's nothing but motivating for you.
He suddenly sits you both up, mouth finding one of your breasts again, saliva coating it as he plays with your nipple with tongue and teeth with no care. The sensitivity makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. Delightful yet torturous whimpers on your lips as you continue to ride him mercilessly.
Sweat covers almost all of your body, and you feel as if you were burning from the inside out, the prince not looking any different, his cheeks and nose terribly reddened. You don't even care about the slight throbbing of your legs getting tired, or for the man you were fucking anymore, simply focused on the building of that rapture that feels so close yet so far. Your hold on his shoulders is firm beyond pleasant, but you assume his mind is elsewhere, and not in how your nails are breaking his pale skin.
You needed this badly and you knew you wouldn't last long. The knot inside you tightens hazardously, and you furrow your eyebrows, your bouncing getting even more frenetic. However, as good as it feels, you are growing overwhelmed as you ache for a release that's taking too long to come, somewhat stuck in a sadic joy. You whine out of glee and anticipation, too fucking eager.
"Don't stop, love," Aemond says with a groan, letting go of your breast with a pop to give attention to the other, his sucking sloppy as you pull at his hair harshly. You moan.
Not even in a thousand years you would dare to. When the long-awaited white-hot pleasure slams your body, you feel like ascending to the seven heavens itself. It's astoundingly overpowering at first and then diminishes in ripples as your heart drums painfully inside your chest, cunt fluttering around his member.
Your breath is heavy as you slow down, shivering and a little weary. Aemond moans while watching you come on his cock, and fortunately, he seems disposed to help you as he lays down again, bringing your body flush against his. He seems very roused as he impales you with his cock from beneath, growling into your ears while his hands squeeze your ass possessively.
You whine due to overstimulation, his thrusts are relentless, and the squelching sounds more prominent with how much you soaked his cock not too long ago. You are unsure if you want him to finish already or just keep using your cunt as he wishes regardless of your comfort, and the sheer thought of it inflames you.
It's surprising how fast it comes back, that burning and expectation in your lower stomach, apparently even stronger now. All that was not him and his cock in your womanhood is long forgotten. Blood rushes hot in your veins, high-pitched mewls and low grunts blending.
"By the Seven, Aemond." You hide your face in the crook of his neck, drool dripping from the corner of your mouth.
"Can you give me another one?" Aemond pounds into you harder, the smell of the shea butter and coconut oil from earlier consuming you. "I want to give you another one, beauty. I want to make you feel exceptionally good, yes?"
You try to respond to him but you just babble, teeth biting into the conjecture of his neck and shoulder, painting it red and purple, too dumbfounded to think or to measure your strength. But it seems your bites only incite the silver-haired more, his shoves faster and his groans broken.
One of his hands circles your waist securely to lock you in place, no falter in his thrusts. The wave of elation that suddenly crashes down over you is potent, numbing all your senses for a few seconds, but you are certain you must be screaming as you squirm. Your legs shake tremendously and your eyelids feel heavier.
Your second peak and the clenching of your cunt send Aemond over the edge. He bucks his hips, stilling inside you as he comes with a prolonged and deep grunt, head tilted back and lips parted. You didn't know what good action guaranteed you the privilege to see such a beautiful thing. Getting off him as he tries to regain his breath, a good amount of his warm seed drips in between your thighs, walls spinning as you feel quite faint.
Your back hits the fluffy mattress, your heart pounding in your ears and black dots cover your vision, which is slightly blurry. Shutting your eyes, you could not say how much time has passed as you recompose yourself and wait for your skin to cool down, but when you do, you are shocked to see the prince already soundly asleep next to you, mouth hung open as exhaustion had finally caught up to him after the latest events and your passionate indulgence.
Chuckling, you roll to your side as you watch him, his expression for once serene and breath even. You trace your finger gently across his straight eyebrow while appreciating the details of his face. The concern comes back to torment you as you wonder what the future has reserved for him, but you try to brush it off. You could only pray for his safety.
You recall the first time you saw him sleeping, it was quite unnerving, only the sapphire shining brightly while his good eye rested, but now the gemstone staring back at you was not only usual but comforting, a unique and enchanting charm in your opinion.
After getting up, you grab a cloth to clean the two of you, and although with a drowsy complaint from him, you manage to tuck the one-eyed in warm sheets. You put on your servant robes again and organize the mess you could deal with at the moment, gathering his armor as quietly as you can to be cleaned later. Pecking his pinkish lips slowly, you exit his quarters, feeling completely satisfied.
SUMMARY: aemond needs your assistance after a battle, in more ways than one.
WARNINGS: blood, curse words, smut with plot, use of coconut oil as lube, hand-job, p in v, tits sucking, multiple orgasms, creampie, a hint of sub aemond? oops? :3
WC: 5.3K
NOTES: obviously this is my take on what happened after rook's rest. the show's approach next year will definitely be different. but it's fun working with the book's events and its lack of minor details (you can fill it in however you wish!).
Your eyes flutter open with a jump, a firm hand gripping your shoulder. You didn't remember when you had fallen asleep, or what hour it was, but certainly wasn't the time for your shift yet. It takes a few seconds for your cloudy vision to focus on where you were, now noticing the older servant in front of you, and you look at her dazedly.
"The prince has just arrived, and requests your presence," Annabel explains.
Aemond. Immediate relief washes over you as your face softens. "Very well."
You leave the servants' quarters as fast as you can after fixing your appearance, and as you walk through the halls, you notice the castle is way too agitated. Tension and seriousness ripple in the air, and you start to feel uneasy as well, mind fumbling with numberless possibilities.
It's one of the gold cloaks that finally speaks a little louder, talking fervently about the victory of the greens at the battle of Rook's Rest. It had been quite a few days since their army had marched, and news was often shared about their progression. Usually, you tend to avoid it, since most of it makes you feel sick in your stomach.
Besides the armored man, there is no more commemoration or sense of victory. Not on this side of the castle, at least. Lords were probably planning on throwing banquets, but people like you are too aware of the damages of the war, and how at the end of the day the smallfolk suffer the most. Countless common people would die in the name of greedy royalty that know no limits to their ambition, families ruined beyond repair, a ravaging hunger was plaguing the poorest, and the coffers would soon be emptied, money being spent on battles other than improving the realm and making life easier. It's obvious how no good could ever come regardless of the result of the war.
You find Annabel again, shouting order after order, the middle-aged woman was the one in charge of the servants for a good while now and was a reliable source of information.
"What happened?" You approach her.
"A lot happened, child." Her tone is somber.
"Did someone die?" What a foolish question. Not just someone, but hundreds.
"The queen who never was and her dragon."
You grimace, reminiscing about the princess back when she was visiting the Red Keep. Although such casualties are expected during the war, it is still difficult to grasp that the imposing woman is dead. It's fearful how one's life could be ripped from them so suddenly. A paralyzing concern floods you. Aemond being back does not mean he is unharmed.
"Has the prince been hurt?" Your voice falters, your heart pounding with fear.
Annabel's gaze flickers to your face, and you could see her disapproval, almost making you wish to recoil. But she would never say a thing about your unusual closeness with the prince, being unlike her to intrude in personal affairs. You are aware she doesn't like Aemond or any of the royals, but then again very few did. You have grown to understand it was not only because of his eye, or lack thereof, but because he simply did not inspire sympathy. Aemond is stoic, defensive, and difficult to relate to. You were only one of the very few lucky enough to know better.
"The prince is fine," Annabel says and you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. "However, it is said the king is in critical condition, it is not known if he will recover, and his dragon is unable to fly, one of his wings was damaged during the fight."
You gasp, in your slumber you have forgotten about the man, not being concerned about him in the slightest. Anyhow, you feel your mind almost melting as you process the shocking news and the aftermath of it. If the king were to perish, that means Aemond would be regent until his nephew is of ideal age. Seven. "Poor Sunfyre."
Annabel tries to scold you, but the amusement behind her blue eyes is hard to conceal. "You are pitying the dragon, not the king?"
"Well, people have the free will of choice, and are aware of the consequences their actions might have… a dragon can only obey their rider's command, isn't it right?"
"We cannot say. These magical creatures are beyond our comprehension."
You ponder. "That is true."
After the quick conversation, you make your way to one of the huge kitchens, assuming the prince would probably fancy a bath. Warming up buckets of water, you carry them to Maegor's Holdfast with the help of three other servants.
A strong smell of blood and smoke fills your nose as you enter his quarters, and your eyes widen. The expensive rug is stained and marked by large boots, and even more astounding is the prince's appearance.
Aemond is lounging on a chair close to his study table. His face and hair are covered by blood, ash, and dirt, and splatters of dried blood stains his black and gold armor. His braids are loose, and you can even notice some twigs tangled in his silver strands. However, the prince's hands are the most distressing, gloves discarded at some point and almost fully covered by the red liquid. With a frown, you deduce it must be from his brother's injury. He looks haunting, almighty, and ruthless. There's a scowl on his face, though his eyes seem perturbed.
You notice how the servants' hands seem to tremble slightly as they pour the water into the bathtub in the next room, their eyes never daring to look up while adding some essential oils and chamomile herbs to the water as well, however, you cannot share their fear. All you wish to do is reach out and comfort him. Leaving one of the buckets outside the bathroom, you can see from the corner of your eyes the one-eyed man dismissing the other servants with a wave of a hand, and they seem eager to oblige. You kneel in front of him.
"I am glad you are well," You squeeze his knees. "And tremendously sorry for your brother."
Aemond does not respond, and his gaze is piercing as he stares at you as if memorizing each detail of your face. You don't look away either, a comfortable but powerful silence pairing between the two of you. His fingers slowly graze your cheek, and you do not mind the blood, eyes closing with the delicate caress.
"Help me undress, will you?"
You nod, aware he was never one to talk in deep about his emotions and thoughts, to allow himself to be vulnerable. Nonetheless, you've been noticing this quietness getting worse ever since Storm's End, and although concerned, you would not push him. Especially because you weren't even aware of the extent of your relationship. That he has a certain tenderness for you is clear, but the amount of liberties you could take with the royal is not as much.
Carefully undoing his heavy armor, the pieces fall to the ground with a whump, and the clothes underneath are a lot easier to deal with. His defined body slowly comes into view, a few goosebumps arising on his bare skin with the sudden lack of materials. Aemond's nakedness is of no surprise to you, though you could never help but admire him. Grabbing a cloth you wet it in the bucket nearby and start to clean his face first, hoping to get rid of the thicker layers of dirt before starting the bath.
Your touch is light, afraid to harshly rub any scratches, big or small. "Are you hurt in any way?"
Aemond shakes his head. "None of the blood is mine," He says. "It's from the princess and my brother, and their dragons. I believe some from Lord Staunton and his garrison as well."
You shudder with discomfort and drift your attention to cleaning his hands, the cloth immediately being painted red, you discard it for another as you move to the other hand. You've always enjoyed tending to him.
His hair comes next, and you take off his eyepatch. Undoing the braids is quick, long accustomed to it, though his strands are now sticking and smelling terribly, like a pan that spent too much time on fire, simply nose scrunching and suffocating. Aemond moves his head side to side with a growl after you are done, the bones of his neck cracking.
The prince sighs pleasantly as he enters the tub, and you grab a bowl to wet his hair. The silver strands get soaped quickly as you massage his scalp with both hands, his good eye close, and the sapphire twinkles.
After washing it, you fetch another soap bar, one that the merchant guaranteed you was special, something about adding more oils while making it. There was no harm in trying, and you were surprised by how such a thing made his hair healthier, not as dry which means fewer cuts, and more tamed and lustrous. His strands instantly become more emollient as you run the soap along the length.
Aemond seems completely unbothered as you get to scrub his body, the fine hairs covering his arms and legs so light it's barely visible. It's, in fact, a moment of relaxation and customariness, a routine for both of you. But the water is already dirty and gray by now, and you cannot help but recall it's not only ashes and dirt but also the mixed blood of people and beasts alike. Some perished.
You do not notice the silver-haired staring at you until he speaks. "You do not seem very pleased."
You raise your eyebrows. "Is there something to be pleased about?"
"Is there not?" He squints his eye. "We have just won a battle."
"Congratulations."
"Your sincerity is appreciated." His voice is dripping with sarcasm. "You know you can speak freely with me." He studies your face.
You bite your lips, focusing on the task at hand and adding more soap to the scrubber. The prince would never understand your point, so you would rather avoid a useless discussion. Especially today.
Unfortunately, he doesn't give up, cocking his head. "What is restraining you from doing so? Are you disgusted? Would you prefer me to not have killed all those cunty traitors?" His voice is low, dangerous. "Would you prefer to have that whore sitting on the throne? Is that the reason for your unpleasantness? Do you believe she's more suitable than my brother? Than me?"
You look at him sternly, the scrubber falling to the water with a splash. His face is now a lot closer to yours, but he does not intimidate you, never did, and probably never will. But he hits a nerve, and your mouth moves even before you could notice you were speaking.
"I would prefer your family to resolve the succession issue in another way other than submitting the kingdom to a devastating war with horrendous consequences, for all of you certainly, as proved by your nephew's death and older brother's injury now, but mostly, innocent people that have nothing to do with your schemes." Your voice holds a cold rage. "That is my opinion if it's of any importance to you, but I highly doubt it."
Aemond scoffs, shaking his head and averting his eye for a minute. His finger rests on top of his mouth, and there's still blood underneath his nails. He inhales to control his annoyance. He looks like he's going to say something, but then changes his mind, closing his lips and opting for another choice of words.
"You would not understand it, as a commoner." He looks at you up and down, not with the usual desire, but with a hint of superiority now, clear in how the corner of his lips twitches upward dismissively.
You are quick to respond. "Nor would you, as a prince."
Deafening silence. You have a good point, the drastic difference in your backgrounds would never let you completely understand one another's views and priorities. Aemond sighs.
"You are lucky I am fond of you." A truce.
You chuckle. "And I do not dislike you entirely."
The prince smiles, tight-lipped, but it is lovely, showing off his beautiful dimples. The rest of the bath goes calmly as you resume the chore. You wrap his hair in a cotton towel, and his body in a linen one. You leave the prince to dry himself while you make your way to the bedchamber, gathering loose mud green trousers and some shea butter.
The one-eyed stands in his full glory as you spread the product all over his lean body. Back, arms, chest, and stomach, then his legs. When you get up from your kneeling position, his hand wraps around your neck swiftly, bringing your body forward and kissing you.
You return it immediately, deep and eager. However, it's also contemplative and cozy, almost lazy as you taste one another. Your hand rests on his forearm, the softness and warmth of his lips never failing to get you weak on the knees, and he smells great now, fresh. Your eyes seem unable to open as you get lost in the small kisses and teases.
"Do not resent me, beauty." He says as you part.
You smile against his mouth, you thought it was precious when he got like this, clingy in his way. It was only on these rare occasions that he let his pride and loftiness aside, and would do everything to prevent you from being upset with him. Seeking your comfort in such an intense manner it was flattering.
A verbal answer doesn't leave your lips, you just kiss him again, and it's enough. "Get dressed and sit down." You motion to the dressing table, throwing the trousers at him.
You comb his hair delicately, adding some sunflower oil to his scalp before braiding his damp hair, he prefers it this way, claiming it was the only way it wouldn't get tangled up in the morning. You start from his very root, sectioning small amounts of silver hair and crossing them over in between your fingers, slowly but surely creating a beautiful and tight pattern. It's not a fast process, but you delight in it and you suspect so does the man in front of you, almost purring as you work. Tying the end of it, you rub his shoulders affectionately, his skin always warm beneath your palms.
"I am sore," Aemond complains. "A massage would be great."
You grin, pecking his cheek from behind. "As you wish, my Prince."
He is truly very tense, and you cannot fathom how distressing all that he witnessed is. You suppose it was a life-changing experience, in the worst way possible. It was clear how his eye hardened considerably in a short time. You would have surely run to the hills in his place, but he doesn't. He breathes and keeps his composure, hiding away all his fright, pretending to be indifferent, that he accepts his duty and the price of it gladly. But nobody would, less they lacked emotions.
Aemond lays down on his stomach, folding his arms above his head. Grabbing a bottle of coconut oil from the table, you take off your shoes and raise your dress to your knees before crawling on the bed to sit on top of his butt.
His body jolts as you drip a generous amount of oil on his large back, his muscles flexing. His body is so magnificent you could easily imagine a greater force meticulously creating each detail of it. Aemond moans the moment your hands start to caress his lower back. Your first touches are gentle, tracing circles up and down with your fingertips, mapping where you can feel some knots. Your hands move from his sides, to his shoulders, and up to the back of his neck, pinching it slightly.
"Fuck," Aemond grunts, voice muffled by the mattress. "This feels nice."
You add more pressure, stroking his back up and down, and after a few minutes back to tracing firm circles, this time with the heel of your hand. The prince is unable to contain noises of pleasure. Laying one of your hands on top of the other, you start the process of pushing his spine, once again beginning down and going up. A few cracks are heard.
Then, you add gentle pressure with your thumbs on his knots, his grunts are now a little bit more uncomfortable, but it's necessary. After you are done, you softly knead his back up and down, and then start switching between circling and stroking.
Aemond's moans along with the feel of his skin start to alight a desire in you, your lower stomach tingling in a known and annoying manner, womanhood pulsating with each new sound. It doesn't help how your filthy encounters had been becoming less frequent, the prince growing too busy with the war, and often you would feel bothered and insatiable.
It's unconscious the way you start rubbing on him, trying to relieve the ache you feel, and you do not realize what you are doing until he grips your thigh, halting your tentative movements at once.
"Stop teasing." He warns.
You stammer, a bit embarrassed. "I'm not, I–"
Suddenly you are pinned down by the prince, your positions switched as you utter your confusion by the suddenness. You should've been used to his strength and fast reflexes by now. "Do you deem your behavior acceptable?"
You swallow, trying not to smile, and feign innocence. "I have no clue what you are talking about."
"Oh, yes? You are unaware you were rubbing yourself on me like a bitch in heat?"
"I would never do that, my Prince."
"You would never…?" He chuckles, feeling amused.
"During my work? No." You shake your head in denial.
"So, if I touch your cunt right now, you would not be wet?" He cocks his head.
You bite your lips. "Not at all."
"Forgive me for not believing your words, but I shall need proof." Aemond's hand sneaks under your dress, fingers moving slowly from your shin to your thigh, his eye never leaving yours, daring.
You giggle when his finger parts your folds, rubbing the dampness between your legs. You buck your hips, in need of more friction.
"Liar." Aemond disregards with a click of his tongue, his pupil blown out as he circles your bud.
"Aemond." You gasp, eyes closing.
"Do you think you deserve it?"
"Yes, I've been taking care of you so well..." You try to negotiate.
"But I deserve so much more attention, don't you agree?" He kisses and licks your collarbone, finger never faltering, teasing.
"More?" Your breath is labored, and your voice is weak. His hand leaves your heat.
"I have killed a whole other dragon. It is not frequently one can say it. Yes, I believe I am due special treatment." He faces you again.
"I see," You grin. "You want me to do all the work?" Your lips brush his. "Such an idle prince." You provoke.
"Watch your mouth," He warns, pecking you. "I am merely tired. It's been eventful."
"Conveniently for you, I am feeling generous today." Your hands trail his bare waist.
"You are?" He smirks, nose touching yours.
"Uh-huh, and very happy you are unscathed."
"Show me, then," Aemond kisses your jaw. "Just how grateful you are."
The kiss you share is lecherous, wet, and rushed. Aemond does not fight you as you flip your bodies over and climb onto his lap, an evident bulge in the thin trousers that contours all of his cock tantalizingly. Even the clothed friction makes you both shudder, and you gather all of your strength to not start instantly grinding on his shaft.
You pull his trousers down, and his manhood springs free. Big, thick, veiny. Dripping coconut oil on your hands, you rub them together. Aemond wets his lips in anticipation.
Your hand slides through his length with no difficulty with the help of the oil, and the smell of it is delicious. You start jerking him off, and the prince hums in satisfaction.
Aemond wasn't the most vocal in bed, you realized it soon into your affair, but with time you had discovered the exceptions, the things that would make him forget all about his inhibitions and scream in pleasure.
After stroking him for a while, you cup one of your hands, very slowly circling his tip with the palm of your oily hand, fingertips dragging up and down his length while you do so. Aemond breathes sharply, his stomach twitching.
"Seven hells, love." He mutters with a tight hold on the sheets due to his sensitivity. You smile.
You focus on your fingertips, running them up and down his shaft lightly. Aemond adored the delicacy of the movement, the gentle yet torturous pressure, promising and unforgiving, kind and cruel. Then you circle his head again, again, and again. Careful to not hurt him. Aemond grunts, his eyebrows pinching together and face completely flushed as he bites his lips harshly, trying to hold back his moans, but you know it won't last long.
"Stop, it 's too much." He whines, but the delighted sound that escapes his mouth tells you to do anything but, his body trembling.
"Aw," You coo mockingly. "We know you can take it, my Prince."
You add more oil to your hands, holding his length and rotating your wrist as your palm rubs over his tip and shaft over and over. He completely let go as he closes his eye, his grunts being replaced by enchanting high-pitched and broken moans. It's quite pathetic the sight of him, the mighty and fearsome prince so supple on your hands, forehead glistening with sweat and breath erratic. Anyone outside could hear him.
"My love, please." He begs in the middle of whimpers, all of his body hair stirred up.
"Please what, my dear?" You ask innocently.
Aemond squirms. "I need to come," He gasps. "Please, please, please."
"Since you asked so nicely…"
You change the movement, keeping it only on his sensitive head, your other hand squeezing his balls. His voice gets louder, face twisted in pleasure as a tear falls down his gorgeous face, violet iris shining bright. You can feel your cunt soaked and throbbing achingly with the view.
He comes in a silent scream, hips bucking as hot loads of his spend fall into your hand and his shaft. You spread some of it around his length, still jerking him off as you help him ride out of his peak, the prince's body spasming.
"That's it," You praise him. "Good boy."
Aemond's breath is heavy as you find his lips, and he struggles to follow your pace, but he tries anyway, messy and urging. "Now you are going to be even nicer and let me use your cock, won't you?" You whisper.
His eye is lidded as he stares at you and nods, and you cannot resist the urge to press two sticky fingers to his curved lips, Aemond opens his mouth with no resistance, licking your hand clean. He's so compliant, somehow still lost in the void between the extraordinary bliss and the present moment.
"Anything for you." He mutters.
You grin. "That is what I like to hear."
Even if not necessarily frequent, happening mostly when he was worn-out or glum, it was rather obvious how letting someone of your position have control over him in bed, one of the very few situations in which you could be so blunt and disrespectful to a high-born, aroused the prince more than he would ever admit, a time in which he could forget about his obligations and just be good to you.
It doesn't take long into your kissing until you can feel him growing hard again, hands eagerly grabbing the hem of your dark red dress and pulling it up around your waist.
"Stupid dress." He complains in between lustful kisses, struggling to get rid of the clothing.
You laugh and help him take it off, throwing your apron and the dress somewhere around his quarters. Aemond instantly latches onto your right breast once you are fully naked, tongue hot and wet twirling around your nipple, and making you shiver and mewl as he sucks it into his mouth as if he is starved, your hand pulling at his braided hair.
Too impatient and greedy, you push him back on the mattress, positioning his member on your wet and tight entrance before lowering yourself down on it. You both moan at the stretch. It is spellbinding the way he watches you on top of him, making you feel like the most desired person in existence, his hands on your hips tightly.
You feel so full and excited you could almost see stars, the position has always been one of your favorites, his cock being able to reach just the right spots in this way.
"Seven, you feel perfect inside me." You gasp, grinding back and forward, your lungs clenching with the sudden and powerful wave of pleasure, so strong it is maddening.
Aemond growls, his body jolting with the motion. "You are a fucking witch, woman."
"For knowing exactly how to deal with you? I might as well be." You grin viciously, your hands resting on his chest.
Your eyes close as you rock your hips slowly and sensually, strained moans already leaving your mouth, and your bud brushing over his pubic bone makes you tremble. It's doubtless the best sensation you have ever felt, his cock dragging against your walls marvelously.
"Fuck, you fit me so well," You say out of breath, fastening your grinding. "Always so good for me, aren't you?"
You lean over slightly, pressing yourself more to him as you begin to bounce on his cock restlessly, the sinful noises echoing in the chamber only increasing your pleasure.
Aemond whimpers, both by the change of the movement and your words. "Always good for you, my love." He repeats, choking out.
Aemond's hands come to grip your ass desperately, certainly to leave bruises later, but now it's nothing but motivating for you.
He suddenly sits you both up, mouth finding one of your breasts again, saliva coating it as he plays with your nipple with tongue and teeth with no care. The sensitivity makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. Delightful yet torturous whimpers on your lips as you continue to ride him mercilessly.
Sweat covers almost all of your body, and you feel as if you were burning from the inside out, the prince not looking any different, his cheeks and nose terribly reddened. You don't even care about the slight throbbing of your legs getting tired, or for the man you were fucking anymore, simply focused on the building of that rapture that feels so close yet so far. Your hold on his shoulders is firm beyond pleasant, but you assume his mind is elsewhere, and not in how your nails are breaking his pale skin.
You needed this badly and you knew you wouldn't last long. The knot inside you tightens hazardously, and you furrow your eyebrows, your bouncing getting even more frenetic. However, as good as it feels, you are growing overwhelmed as you ache for a release that's taking too long to come, somewhat stuck in a sadic joy. You whine out of glee and anticipation, too fucking eager.
"Don't stop, love," Aemond says with a groan, letting go of your breast with a pop to give attention to the other, his sucking sloppy as you pull at his hair harshly. You moan.
Not even in a thousand years you would dare to. When the long-awaited white-hot pleasure slams your body, you feel like ascending to the seven heavens itself. It's astoundingly overpowering at first and then diminishes in ripples as your heart drums painfully inside your chest, cunt fluttering around his member.
Your breath is heavy as you slow down, shivering and a little weary. Aemond moans while watching you come on his cock, and fortunately, he seems disposed to help you as he lays down again, bringing your body flush against his. He seems very roused as he impales you with his cock from beneath, growling into your ears while his hands squeeze your ass possessively.
You whine due to overstimulation, his thrusts are relentless, and the squelching sounds more prominent with how much you soaked his cock not too long ago. You are unsure if you want him to finish already or just keep using your cunt as he wishes regardless of your comfort, and the sheer thought of it inflames you.
It's surprising how fast it comes back, that burning and expectation in your lower stomach, apparently even stronger now. All that was not him and his cock in your womanhood is long forgotten. Blood rushes hot in your veins, high-pitched mewls and low grunts blending.
"By the Seven, Aemond." You hide your face in the crook of his neck, drool dripping from the corner of your mouth.
"Can you give me another one?" Aemond pounds into you harder, the smell of the shea butter and coconut oil from earlier consuming you. "I want to give you another one, beauty. I want to make you feel exceptionally good, yes?"
You try to respond to him but you just babble, teeth biting into the conjecture of his neck and shoulder, painting it red and purple, too dumbfounded to think or to measure your strength. But it seems your bites only incite the silver-haired more, his shoves faster and his groans broken.
One of his hands circles your waist securely to lock you in place, no falter in his thrusts. The wave of elation that suddenly crashes down over you is potent, numbing all your senses for a few seconds, but you are certain you must be screaming as you squirm. Your legs shake tremendously and your eyelids feel heavier.
Your second peak and the clenching of your cunt send Aemond over the edge. He bucks his hips, stilling inside you as he comes with a prolonged and deep grunt, head tilted back and lips parted. You didn't know what good action guaranteed you the privilege to see such a beautiful thing. Getting off him as he tries to regain his breath, a good amount of his warm seed drips in between your thighs, walls spinning as you feel quite faint.
Your back hits the fluffy mattress, your heart pounding in your ears and black dots cover your vision, which is slightly blurry. Shutting your eyes, you could not say how much time has passed as you recompose yourself and wait for your skin to cool down, but when you do, you are shocked to see the prince already soundly asleep next to you, mouth hung open as exhaustion had finally caught up to him after the latest events and your passionate indulgence.
Chuckling, you roll to your side as you watch him, his expression for once serene and breath even. You trace your finger gently across his straight eyebrow while appreciating the details of his face. The concern comes back to torment you as you wonder what the future has reserved for him, but you try to brush it off. You could only pray for his safety.
You recall the first time you saw him sleeping, it was quite unnerving, only the sapphire shining brightly while his good eye rested, but now the gemstone staring back at you was not only usual but comforting, a unique and enchanting charm in your opinion.
After getting up, you grab a cloth to clean the two of you, and although with a drowsy complaint from him, you manage to tuck the one-eyed in warm sheets. You put on your servant robes again and organize the mess you could deal with at the moment, gathering his armor as quietly as you can to be cleaned later. Pecking his pinkish lips slowly, you exit his quarters, feeling completely satisfied.
jacobvanloon
theartofmadeline
jbbartram-illu
tangentwithtanner
kaledo-art
andulkaphoto
