Somethings gotta give eventually right? Cuz I'm struggling. I've officially lost over 80 lbs in the last year. Diagnosed Gastroparesis,Small Fiber Neuropathy and Dysautonomia on top of autoimmune disorders,Lyme and possible AS but the wait for help is absolutely insane. Averaging about a year to get in with the right Dr. I've been told to call a Dr back when I reach a certain weight. Like what? I'm unable to drink or eat due to pain and nausea and I've just been left to deal. The medical care field rn is a freaking joke. I'm freaking miserable
The answer flashed before her mind’s eye—an image of a defined chest, his lean yet muscular form, that sharp, sculpted face. The long silver hair that spilled over his shoulders, a single penetrating blue eye that seemed to look right through her.
And then beneath the clothes and boxers that hid the impressive length and girth of his cock. Y.N felt her throat go dry just thinking about it.
Oh-that’s how it happened.'
Drunken sex with your friends brother, was one thing but getting pregnant with his baby, now that was another matter entirely.
Warning(s): Angst, Drama, Swearing, Alcohol Consumption, Infidelity, Kissing, Oral Sex, Unprocted Sex, P in V, Pregnancy.
AEMOND x Y.N
Word Count: 6048.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated, do not copy/post to other sights without my permission.
Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @darylandbethfanforever9 @killua2dot0 @msassenach @xcharlottemikaelsonx @moonnicole
Y.N sat on the cold, tiled floor of her bathroom, staring down at the positive pregnancy test in her trembling hand.
"Shit," she muttered under her breath, as she forced herself to stand up, inhaling sharply.
With a flick of her wrist, she tossed the test into the bin, though it was the fourth one she'd taken.
The missed period and constant morning sickness should have been enough of a clue, but no—she had to pee on a stupid plastic stick to truly accept what was happening.
Pregnant. Gods, how could she let this happen?
The answer flashed before her mind’s eye—an image of a defined chest, his lean yet muscular form, that sharp, sculpted face. The long silver hair that spilled over his shoulders, a single penetrating blue eye that seemed to look right through her.
And then beneath the clothes and boxers that hid the impressive length and girth of his cock. Y.N felt her throat go dry just thinking about it.
Oh- so that’s how it happened.
Neither of them had planned it. Blame the alcohol, the pent up lust, and the heat of the moment.
Still, it had been incredible, regardless of the consequences. A frustrated groan escaped her as she left the bathroom, wandering into her bedroom.
Her gaze fell to the bed, the same bed they’d writhed together on, naked and slick with sweat as he drove her over the edge again and again. She bit her lip as the memory of his hands, his mouth, sent a wave of heat through her.
Shaking her head, Y.N yanked on an oversized cardigan, trying to ignore the way her body reacted to the memory of him.
She needed to focus, to distract herself. Her feet carried her to the kitchen, where a pile of dishes awaited her. But instead of starting to wash them, her eyes landed on a photograph—her and Jacaerys.
Her ex-boyfriend.
She sighed, her chest tightening. They had broken up four months ago, but Jace had called her just two days ago, wanting to work things out.
Y.N's lips pressed together as she picked up the photo, staring at it for a moment before placing it face down on the counter.
Well, that wasn’t going to happen now.
Rubbing her hands over her face, she leaned against the counter. She knew what had to be done—first, she needed to make an appointment with the midwives.
Then, she needed to tell him. The father.
Gods, please don’t let him be an insufferable prick about it.
He had a tendency, didn’t he? Even though he’d changed since their school days, there was still a part of him that could be-difficult.
Her mind then betrayed her again, a flash of him working her body, bringing her to pieces with his tongue.
Y.N whimpered at the memory, her body trembling.
But this wasn’t the time for that.
She grabbed her phone, ignoring the sudden, nagging throb of need that lingered in her belly.
No, this was real now.
She dialled the number for the midwives office, steadying her breath as she booked an appointment for tomorrow.
The rest-well, that would have to come after.
The next day, Y.N sat in the waiting room of her local midwife centre, glancing around at the pastel-coloured walls and floral décor.
Boredom began to seep in as the minutes dragged by. The distant cries of babies echoed through the air, pulling her from her thoughts. She turned her head, catching a glimpse of a mother soothing a newborn, and despite everything, a warm, happy smile spread across her face.
"Y.N?" A stern voice interrupted her daydream.
Snapping to attention, Y.N stood up and followed the sour-looking midwife down a narrow corridor, her footsteps echoing off the linoleum floor. She was directed into a much warmer, cozier room, where the atmosphere softened.
"Good morning," a kindly midwife greeted her, adjusting her glasses as she stood beside a small ultrasound machine.
Y.N took a deep breath and stepped inside, her nerves prickling beneath her skin.
The midwife smiled kindly, beckoning her to sit. "When was your last period?" the woman asked gently, her pen hovering over a clipboard.
Y.N stared down at her hands, fidgeting with her fingers in her lap. "I-I don’t really remember-" she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
The midwife reached out, patting her shoulder reassuringly. "No matter, we’ll get a clearer picture. Let’s take a look, shall we?"
With a nervous nod, Y.N moved to the examination bed, pulling up her shirt and exposing her stomach.
She bit her lip, her anxiety bubbling as the midwife spread warm gel over her abdomen.
The midwife began moving the device across her stomach, her eyes fixed on the monitor. For a few moments, there was silence, the room filled only by the soft hum of the machine. Then suddenly, a faint but strong sound filled the air—a tiny, fluttering heartbeat.
Y.N sat up straighter, her eyes wide as they darted to the screen. There, amidst the blurry black and white image, was her child. Her child.
The sound washed over her, and without warning, tears welled up in her eyes. They slipped down her cheeks before she could stop them, happiness engulfing her in a way she hadn’t expected. It was the most incredible sound, the most undeniable proof that this was real.
"Everything looks good," the midwife said confidently, tapping a few buttons on the machine. "Nice strong heartbeat-I’d say that you’re roughly eight weeks pregnant."
Eight weeks. The child-was definitely his.
She managed a small, trembling smile, still trying to process the flood of emotions swirling inside her.
The midwife froze the image on the screen, printing out a picture and handing Y.N a tissue to wipe the gel from her skin.
Then she scribbled something on a notepad and tore off the page, handing it to her along with the ultrasound photo.
"You’ll need to come in every other month so we can monitor the pregnancy and see how things progress." The midwife smiled kindly again, pushing the paper into Y.N’s trembling hand.
“O-Ok” muttered Y.N
"Take this to the front desk, and they’ll schedule your next appointment."
"Thank you," Y.N mumbled quickly, her voice barely steady as she stood and made her way out of the room.
She paused in the hallway, staring down at the ultrasound scan she now held in her hands. There it was—a tiny figure. In black and white, undeniable proof.
She was really pregnant.
Y.N sat on her sofa, the weight of the day pressing down on her as she stared at the ultrasound picture in her hand.
A baby was growing inside her.
Her heart swelled with emotions she hadn't expected, a sudden surge that consumed her entirely.
She had never felt anything like this before—this fierce, protective love. It was as if her entire being had shifted, realigned with this new reality. Every fibre of her body already wanted this child, with a depth and intensity that stunned her.
The father deserved to know, of course. It wasn’t even a question. But as she sat there, staring at the picture, Y.N made a decision.
She wasn’t going to force anything out of him. If he wanted to be involved, then he would have to choose that path himself.
Exhaling, Y.N sank deeper into the sofa, pulling her legs up beneath her as her eyes flitted over to the magazine that lay on her coffee table.
There he was, arm draped around his girlfriend—a dark-haired, older woman dressed in designer finery, the picture of elegance and wealth.
And he—clad in a perfectly tailored suit that moulded itself to his lithe, muscular frame—looked every bit the part of someone whose life was wrapped in perfection.
He was part of the Targaryen dynasty, one of the wealthiest families around. He and his half-sister Rhaenyra had taken over Targaryen Inc. after their father Viserys had passed away and Aegon, his older brother, had refused to step up, content to live off his inheritance.
Y.N’s lips pressed together as she wondered, for what felt like the hundredth time, how he would react to the news. Would he embrace it? Take responsibility? Or would he ignore it, pretend it didn’t exist?
Their lives were already so different, so far apart from where they’d started. Whatever happened, whatever choice he made, there was no denying that their lives were about to spiral into a whirlwind neither of them had expected.
She pulled a blanket around herself, snuggling deeper into its warmth as she closed her eyes, letting herself drift back to the night it all started.
It had started at Helaena’s flat, where Y.N was nervously tugging at the hem of her dress, glancing at herself in the mirror. “Do you think this dress looks okay?” she asked, turning to Helaena, who was adjusting her own makeup at the vanity.
Helaena smiled warmly, “You look beautiful, Y.N. Seriously. You have nothing to worry about.”
Y.N sighed, feeling a knot of anxiety twist in her stomach. “Sorry, I’m just nervous. I haven’t been clubbing since before I was dating Jace, and now that we’re over-” She trailed off, biting her lip. “-I’ve heard he’s seeing someone new. A girl named Sara”
Helaena waved her hand dismissively. “Forget about him. Tonight isn’t about arsehole ex-boyfriends.”
Y.N raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Isn’t he your nephew?”
Helaena smirked back, her eyes twinkling mischievously. “Exactly, which is why I’m perfectly entitled to call him an arsehole. Now come on, let’s go enjoy ourselves.”
Y.N nodded, feeling the tension lift slightly as she followed Helaena out of the flat. They ended up at a club called Dragon’s Den, a pulsing, neon-lit space that buzzed with energy.
After an hour of drinks and dancing, the alcohol had finally started to work its magic. Y.N’s nerves faded away, replaced by a light, heady feeling of freedom.
“Oh, look,” Helaena waved excitedly, “-My brothers have finally arrived-took them long enough"
Y.N turned and her breath caught in her throat.
Lord almighty.
Aegon, the eldest, was grinning widely as he weaved through the crowd, his bubbly and cheerful demeanour making him instantly noticeable. Then there was Daeron, the youngest, with his hypnotic blue eyes and infectious smile, the picture of youthful charm.
But it was the man trailing behind them, cutting through the crowd with a quiet intensity, who made her heart stutter.
Aemond.
His silver hair was tied back, revealing the sharp, angular lines of his face, the eyepatch only adding to his dark allure.
Gods, did he always look that good?
Y.N mentally kicked herself. Damn it, what the hell was wrong with her? Clearly, the alcohol was clouding her senses, making her thoughts wander.
But when they locked eyes over the dancing crowd, and he smirked—that smug, knowing smirk—and something stirred inside her.
She forced herself to smile back half-heartedly and then, defiantly, turned her back on him.
Y.N threw back her drink, requesting another when she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. Turning around, she was met with Daeron’s beaming face, his gorgeous blue eyes crinkled in the corners.
“Good to see you, Y.N.” He kissed her hand in a playful, old-fashioned gesture.
“Daeron, how have you been?” she asked, though her attention briefly flickered to the man across the floor still watching her intently.
“I’ve been good, thanks for asking,” Daeron replied cheerfully, his fingers still holding hers. “Would you like to dance?”
Y.N glanced at Helaena, who gave her a subtle nod of encouragement. Looking back at Daeron’s hand, she replied politely, “Yes, I’d like to dance.”
Daeron beamed, leading her onto the dance floor. His hand on her waist pulled her close as they swayed to the rhythm of the music, and they fell into easy conversation, his charm and humour quickly making her laugh. For a brief moment, Y.N felt light, carefree.
But then, a voice—low, sultry, and cutting—sliced through the noise.
“Do you mind if I cut in?”
Daeron smirked, stepping back slightly as he glanced at Y.N. “It’s up to her,” he said with a shrug.
Y.N turned, and there he was—Aemond, standing tall, his intense gaze fixed on her. He extended a hand, his interest undeniable.
Without hesitation, Y.N let out a small laugh and took his hand.
“-Arse” she heard Daeron mutter as he moved away from them.
Aemond’s fingers brushed against her skin as he pulled her close, closer than she had been to Daeron. His body was firm against hers, his hand resting possessively at the small of her back.
“Look at you” said Aemond, his voice thick with something more than just amusement.
She looked up at him, refusing to back down. “I saw you looking earlier”
“You were always pretty, but tonight-you’re stunning-”
Y.N laughed softly. “I thought I was annoying and insufferable—or at least, that’s what you used to say to me back in school.”
Aemond’s eye gleamed with amusement. “Clearly, things have changed.”
Tilting her head, Y.N smirked. “How’s your grandma? I mean, Alys?”
Aemond let out a deep laugh, shaking his head. “She's with Larys in America.”
Her eyes traced the lines of his neck, landing on his lips. “So-that explains your attention tonight?”
He let one hand go and tipped her chin up, staring into her flustered face. “I’ve always appreciated a beautiful woman.”
Then, leaning in, his breath hot against her ear, he whispered, “And you are beautiful.”
After two more songs, with Aemond's hand firmly guiding her across the dance floor, Y.N could feel the tension between them growing, the air charged with something far more than just the rhythm of the music.
His touch was deliberate, the way he held her close to his body unmistakable, and her pulse quickened every time he looked down at her, his intense gaze burning into her skin.
As the last song ended, Aemond leaned down, his breath warm against her ear. “Let me buy you a drink,” he offered, his voice smooth and low.
Y.N nodded, trying to keep her composure as they made their way to the bar. The crowd around them seemed to blur, the music fading into the background as she focused on the man standing beside her.
As soon as they reached the bar, he gestured to the bartender and ordered two drinks.
“How are things with you and my nephew?” Aemond asked casually, leaning on the counter as he turned to face her.
Y.N let out a dry laugh, downing her drink in one swift motion, grimacing at the sharp taste of alcohol burning down her throat.
“There is no me and Jace” she said, her voice tinged with bitterness. “Not anymore. He was with some girl from up north called Sara”
Aemond huffed in response, his lips curling into a slight smirk. “His loss,” he said simply, as he downed his whiskey with ease. He ordered another round for the both of them, and Y.N couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at him.
“Why are you being so nice to me?” she asked, her tone laced with curiosity. “I thought you hated me.”
Aemond scoffed, setting his empty glass down on the bar. “I don’t hate you, Y.N. I never did.”
Y.N blinked in surprise. “Could’ve fooled me,” she muttered. “So why act like you did?”
Aemond’s jaw tightened as he poured the truth out, more candid than she’d ever seen him. “I was a prick,” he admitted, a rare look of vulnerability flashing in his eye. “Too scared to act on how I felt, so I pushed you away. It was easier to be a bastard than to admit I was attracted to you.”
Her eyes widened at his words, genuinely surprised by his honesty. Aemond wasn’t exactly known for wearing his emotions on his sleeve.
“I’m-surprised you’re being this open,” she said, her lips curving into a small smile. “You’re usually all stoic and reserved. Like no one ever really knows what’s going on inside that head of yours.”
He smirked again, the edge of his lips curling into a half smile. “I’ve changed since you last saw me,” he replied, his voice softer than before.
Y.N studied him for a moment, and she had to admit that there was something different about him now.
Something more relaxed, more assured. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but it was clear that this wasn’t the same Aemond she’d known back in school.
The same Aemond who teased her, the same Aemond she once had a crush on.
She smiled, downing the rest of her drink as her mind began to feel delightfully fuzzy from the alcohol.
She was vaguely aware of Aemond ordering another drink, but before it arrived, she leaned toward him, her words slurring just slightly. “I’ve got more drinks back at my flat.”
Aemond looked at her for a moment, then grinned, a glint of something dangerous flickering in his eye. “Then let’s go.”
Without hesitation, he took her hand, his fingers warm and firm around hers as he led her away from the bar. They weaved through the crowd, Y.N barely registering the other people around them as she focused on Aemond’s touch, the way his hand didn’t let go, even for a second.
He shouted over to Aegon, something about leaving, but she barely heard it.
The next thing she knew, they were stepping outside into the cool night air, the noise of the club fading into the background as they hailed a taxi.
Y.N’s heart pounded in her chest, and she felt a rush of excitement—something reckless, something wild—course through her veins as they climbed into the back seat together.
The taxi ride was a blur, the tension between them thickening with every passing second. Y.N could feel Aemond’s gaze on her, the heat between them unmistakable. As they pulled up to her flat, she glanced at him, and in that moment, she knew there was no turning back.
Y.N fumbled with her keys, her hands shaking slightly as she finally managed to unlock the door. She pushed it open and turned to Aemond, stepping aside to let him in.
"It's not much, but it's home," she said, her voice a little breathless as she closed the door behind them.
Aemond hummed in response, his eye scanning the flat. He didn’t say much, just let his gaze drift around the room, but Y.N could feel the tension building, thick and heavy between them.
“So-what would you like to drink?” she asked, turning to him with a slight smile, trying to keep things light even though her heart was pounding in her chest.
Aemond’s gaze flicked to hers, his blue eye intense and unwavering. “We both know I didn’t come here for a drink,” he said, his voice low and sultry.
Before she could respond, his hand slid to the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair as he pulled her toward him.
His lips crashed against hers, and she let out a soft gasp of surprise before melting into the kiss. It was hungry, desperate—his lips moving over hers like he’d been waiting for this moment far longer than either of them could have admitted.
Y.N’s hands roamed his shoulders, before slipping off his jacket and then tugging at the buttons of his shirt.
Aemond’s hands were equally impatient, slipping round her back and partially unzipping her dress, his fingers grazing against her skin, sending sparks of heat through her body.
Between kisses, his voice was low and gravelly, “Bedroom.”
Y.N pulled back just enough to nod, her breath shaky. “This way,” she whispered, taking his hand and leading him down the short hallway to her room.
The moment they stepped inside, the tension that had been building between them snapped, and Aemond was back on her.
His hands cupped her face, pulling her into another searing kiss, and Y.N moaned into his mouth as she felt his long fingers sliding up the back of her neck and into her hair.
“I-I want to see you” muttered Y.N softly.
Aemond slipped his fingers under the strap of his eyepatch and pulled it from his head.
Y.N stood silent she stared at the scar the bisected his cheek, extending through his eyebrow. The sapphire that he’d placed in the eye socket, glinted in the moonlight.
“You are-so-beautiful” whispered Y.N as she leaned forward and placed a number of kisses along his scarred cheek and over the sapphire.
Aemond closed his eye in delight at the tender gesture, a contented sigh escaping his lips.
“Hmmm” rasped Aemond as he ran his thumb over Y.N’s bottom lip, his eye going wide as she opened her mouth and nipped at his thumb before sucking it into her mouth.
“Please-“ moaned Y.N
Aemond’s gaze locked onto hers, his eye dark with desire. "You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this," he whispered, his voice rough, filled with a mix of longing and restraint.
Y.N’s heart pounded in her chest as she reached for him, pulling him closer. "Then don’t stop," she whispered back, her voice soft but urgent.
Wasting no time, he pulled Y.N to him, his lips once again claiming hers.
He put his arm around her waist and kissed her passionately, deepening the kiss as she moaned into his mouth. His tongue pushing against hers.
Y.N ran her fingers across his lithe body. His muscles rippled under her fingertips.
She finished unbuttoning the white shirt he wore, placing feathery kisses on his sparsely haired chest as the shirt was removed.
Her fingers toying with the silver cross chain he wore.
Groaning against her creamy smooth skin, he kissed her neck, sucking on the delicate flesh as she leaned into him, enjoying his every touch.
Her dress felt heavy on her. She wanted to be rid of it. She wanted to feel his skin on hers. She reluctantly broke free of his embrace and turned her back to him moving her hair out of the way.
His fingers trembled as he grasped the zip to her dress and pulled it the rest of the way down, the sound echoed through the quiet apartment, and he pressed his lips to the back of her neck.
Using his long fingers, he freed her from the confinements of her dress, and it fell to join his shirt on the floor.
She wasn’t wearing a bra, which seemed to excite him.
Goosebumps appeared where his fingers moved over her. Cupping her ample breasts from behind, Aemond pulled Y.N against his chest. Burying himself in the crook of her neck, sucking on the skin whilst his fingers massaged the soft mounds and played with her hardened nipples.
Aemond turned her to face him. Kissing her again, he trailed kisses down her body and took a rosy nipple in his mouth. Sucking on the bud, he bit down lightly, earning a low moan from deep within her.
He continued his actions on the other breast and kissed past her stomach until he knelt before her. Her fingers in his hair tightened as he ran the tips of his fingers from her stomach down to her core.
Slowly he grasped the lace of her knickers and ripped them from her, pressing the ruined material to his nose and inhaling her scent before standing up.
Y.N reached forward to undo the buttons on his trousers, then she directed him backwards towards the bed.
Her fingers stroked his body, not missing an inch of flesh, admiring the way his muscles twitched under her touch.
Biting down on her lip, she knelt between his legs, and pulled his trousers and boxers down his shapely legs and threw them on the floor.
Gods. His cock. It was impressive.
Y.N wanted to put it in her mouth, to taste him, but before she could, Aemond leaned forward and pulled her onto the bed.
He covered her body with his as he sucked and licked at the delicate skin of her neck, leaving red marks in his wake.
Y.N moved her head to the side and moaned loudly as she felt Aemond’s teeth nipping at her skin.
Ooo A-Aemond” exclaimed Y.N as he moved down her body, nibbling her at her skin as he went.
“Such a pretty pussy " breathed Aemond, spitting on her pussy before he ran the flat of his tongue up her soaked slit, from bottom to the top, tasting her.
“Oh, my god” moaned Y.N her eyes rolling into the back of her head.
“That’s it my sweet. Let me hear you”.
“YES! It feels so good. Don’t stop. Aemond. Please” begged Y.N.
"Delicious" purred Aemond as he began lapping at Y.N, running his tongue along every fold.
"More" panted Y.N. "Please. I need more”.
Aemond inserted two fingers, sliding them in and out of her slick wet folds.
“Oh, fuck" whimpered Y.N; her chest heaving.
Aemond’s fingers were soaking wet as they continued to pump in and out of her tight heat.
“I can’t wait to get my cock inside you. I don’t want to wait any longer, come for me baby,” moaned Aemond, his face pressed between her shaking thighs.
Y.N arched her back and screamed as her climax washed over her.
Aemond pumped slowly and lapped at her centre as she squirted all over his face.
“P-Please A-Aemond. Need you” begged Y.N.
Aemond rose to his knees, his chin shining with her slick, he smirked as he swiped his fingers over his chin and then placed them in his mouth.
Aemond moved up Y.N’s body pausing to grasp hold of her left breast as he ran his tongue over the rosy nipple, his teeth grazing the stiffened peak.
“Oh-yes“ gasped Y.N, as he moved to the other breast and lavished it with the same attention.
Aemond then grabbed her around the waist and manoeuvred her body on top of his.
“I want you to ride me-” exclaimed Aemond as he lined up his cock with her entrance and sheathed himself inside her with one hard thrust.
Y.N moaned as Aemond withdrew and entered into her repeatedly.
Faster and faster. Harder and deeper, his fingers digging into the flesh of her hips.
"Please don't stop," cried out Y.N
"I have no intention of stopping" growled Aemond, his feet planted firmly on the bed to allow him to increase the intensity of his thrusts.
A satisfied smile spread across his face as he quickened and angled his movements, so his cock rubbed on that special place inside her.
Aemond seemed mesmerized by the sight of her breasts bouncing in front of him as he surged forward, his mouth wrapping around one rosy bud.
His teeth and tongue teasing the stiffened peak.
“Gods-yes Aemond” shrieked Y.N as she bounced on his cock, her hands coiled in is long silver hair.
“That’s it baby-take it-take all of me” growled Aemond leaning back as he moved Y.N’s hips in time with his thrusts.
“Oh gods-” wailed Y.N.
“That’s it-FUCK Y.N” groaned Aemond as he took hold of her and quickly manoeuvred her onto her back, his cock never leaving the warm wetness of her as he began to pound into her, the sounds of skin slapping on skin echoing around her bedroom.
“Come for me baby-come for me” growled Aemond as he felt her clenching around him.
“AEMOND” screamed Y.N as she exploded, her nails digging into his back.
Aemond held back for as long as he could, but his release was upon him.
With a final hard thrust, he spilled rope after rope of his seed.
He muffled his groans into her mouth as she hung onto him, kissing him fervently.
She held him close to her body, whispering words of comfort and satisfaction while running her fingers down his back.
Y.N was startled awake by a loud, insistent banging on the door. She groaned, rubbing her eyes, still groggy from falling asleep on the sofa.
Straightening her oversized cardigan, she walked over to the door, her heart skipping a beat as she wondered who could be knocking this late.
When she opened the door, she found Jace standing there, his face a mix of uncertainty and determination. “Can I come in?” he asked, his voice tense but soft.
Y.N hesitated for a moment, her mind racing. The last thing she expected was to see Jace at her doorstep.
But eventually, she pushed the door open wider, allowing him to step inside. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead—a gesture that made her stomach churn with discomfort—and she shut the door behind him.
Watching him as he walked around her flat, his eyes scanning the room as if searching for answers, she could feel the weight of his presence growing heavier.
He finally settled on the sofa, looking up at her. "What do you want, Jace?" she asked, crossing her arms as she stood a few feet away.
He patted the space next to him, signalling for her to sit. Reluctantly, she did, keeping her distance.
"I've been thinking about what you said before we broke up," he began, his tone measured, "and I realize now that having a solid commitment is a good idea. I wasn’t ready before, but I’ve been thinking—about us, about our future. I want to fix things. Maybe even-get married."
Y.N’s heart clenched, panic flooding her chest. Before she could stop herself, she blurted out, "I can't marry you, Jace. I-I'm pregnant."
The words hung in the air, and Jace froze, his expression shifting from surprise to confusion. He blinked a few times before a smile broke through. “That’s-that’s wonderful news,” he said, reaching out to take her hand.
But Y.N quickly pulled her hand back, steeling herself for what came next. “It’s not yours,” she whispered.
Jace's smile evaporated, replaced by pure shock. His eyes widened as the realization hit him. "What? You-cheated on me?"
Y.N bristled at the accusation. “We were broken up, Jace. It wasn’t cheating.”
Jace stood, pacing the small living room, running a hand through his hair as his temper flared. “And you think that makes it okay? After everything—who is it, Y.N? Who’s the father?”
She crossed her arms defensively. “I can’t tell you that. Not yet.”
Jace’s fists clenched. His voice grew louder, his words biting. “I’ll find out. And when I do, I swear I’ll beat the shit out of him.”
Y.N couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her lips, a short, incredulous sound at the absurdity of it.
The thought of Jace going after Aemond, who would undoubtedly destroy him in any confrontation, was almost too much to handle.
“You think this is funny?” he snapped, his face red with anger.
“No, I think you’re being ridiculous,” she shot back. “We were broken up. You don’t get to be mad about this. And let’s not forget, you went off with Sara right after we ended things. So, it’s okay for you to go and stick it in someone else, but I can’t have a one-night stand?”
Jace’s face twisted in frustration, his voice breaking as he snarled, “That was a mistake! I—"
Y.N cut him off. “Well, so was this. But it happened. And now I’m pregnant, and I haven’t even told the father yet. So, I’d appreciate it if you kept this to yourself until I do.”
Jace’s face fell into a mixture of anger and disbelief. “I know him, don’t I?”
Y.N hesitated, then nodded. There was no point in lying.
Jace’s fury bubbled over as he shouted, “How could you do this?!” His voice echoed through the flat, the tension palpable.
Y.N had had enough. Her body tensed as she stood, glaring at him with cold resolve. “Jace. I’m done, I want you to leave”
“Y.N-”
“Please leave,” said Y.N firmly.
Jace’s anger wavered, replaced by a sad, desperate look as he moved towards the door, his hand on the handle.
“Is it really over? Is there no chance for us?”
Y.N’s eyes softened, but she didn’t falter. “It’s over Jace. It’s for the best.”
Tears welled in his eyes as he nodded, slowly opening the door and stepping out into the hallway. He paused, his back still turned to her, before disappearing into the night without another word.
Y.N shut the door quietly behind him, her heart heavy but certain she had made the right choice.
The next morning, Y.N stood in front of her wardrobe, pulling out outfit after outfit, nerves rattling through her body.
She wasn’t sure why it mattered so much, but every choice felt wrong. After trying on a casual dress, then jeans, and a sweater, she finally settled on a smart skirt and blouse.
She wanted to look put together—not too formal, but not too relaxed either. After all, she was about to deliver life-changing news.
Her fingers trembled as she brushed her hair and applied light makeup, glancing at herself in the mirror.
She couldn’t stop thinking about how Aemond would react. But one thing was certain: no matter his response, this baby was hers. She was determined to protect and love this child with or without him.
Finally, after a last glance at her reflection, she grabbed her handbag and headed out the door. She hailed a taxi and gave the driver the address for Targaryen Inc.
As the car wove through the busy city streets, her heart raced. She rehearsed what she would say, but each scenario in her head ended differently. She sighed, leaning her head against the window.
The towering skyscraper of Targaryen Inc. loomed ahead, sleek and modern with reflective glass panels stretching toward the sky. She paid the driver, stepped out, and took a deep breath before walking into the grand lobby.
The building was immaculate, with marble floors and chic modern décor. It exuded wealth and power—much like the man she was here to see.
"Good morning, how can I help you?" the receptionist asked with a welcoming smile.
“I’m here to see Aemond Targaryen,” Y.N replied, her voice calm though her insides were twisting.
The receptionist gave a polite nod and directed her to take the lift to the 20th floor. "Someone will assist you there," she said, gesturing toward the sleek elevators at the far end of the lobby.
Y.N thanked her and walked toward the lift, her heels clicking softly against the polished floor. Once inside, she pressed the button for the 20th floor and clasped her hands tightly around the buckle of her handbag.
The quiet music in the lift did little to ease her growing anxiety. She glanced at the floor numbers ticking upward, willing her heart to steady. This was it.
When the lift doors slid open, Y.N stepped out into an elegant office floor. The air smelled faintly of expensive cologne, and the space was immaculately designed—sharp, minimalistic, and cold.
A haughty-looking woman with perfect posture greeted her at a sleek desk.
“Can I help you?” the woman asked, her tone professional yet distant.
“I’m here to see Aemond Targaryen,” Y.N said, mustering her confidence, even as her fingers fidgeted nervously with her handbag again.
The woman raised an eyebrow and looked her up and down, clearly assessing her. “Do you have an appointment?” she asked, flipping through the pages of a file on her desk.
Y.N hesitated for a moment before replying, “No, but I’m an old friend. I’m sure Aemond will make time to see me.”
The woman pursed her lips, her fingers pausing over the file. “Let me see if Mr. Targaryen is available.”
She asked for Y.N.’s name, and she told her, watching as the woman nodded and picked up the phone.
Y.N’s stomach twisted as she took a seat in the waiting area, glancing around at the perfectly curated space.
A few tense minutes passed before the woman called out to her.
Can I have a fem!twin sister Jace, Where she always knew that Hardin was her father and she really loved him, but Daemon kinda take her as her heir and daughter.
She got engaged to Aemond but after Lucerys death they cancel it and during the war she don’t know what side choose. She really love her « husband » but her loyalty goes to the black (maybe because of daemon)
She ride Cannibal and goes to the battle of rooks rest but Aemond and Vhagar can’t attack her.
Idk how you can end it but I’m sure you can do it 🫶🏼♥️
Cursed in Flames
- Summary: You face Aemond at Rook’s Rest. And Dance of the Dragons is never the same again.
- Paring: niece!reader/Aemond Targaryen
- Note: For more of my works, visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top.
- Rating: Mature 16+
- Word count: 3 000+
- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff
The news reaches you like a shadow across the sea, darkening the horizon of your mind with its terrible weight. You are standing on the cliffs of Dragonstone, watching the waves crash against the rocks far below, when you hear Daemon's footsteps approach. The air is filled with the scent of salt and storm, and the sky above is a heavy gray, mirroring the turmoil in your heart.
You do not turn to look at him immediately, sensing the gravity of what he is about to say. You have always known Daemon’s stride—deliberate, commanding, yet with a subtle grace that betrays his Targaryen blood. It is the same stride he had when he came to you as a child, kneeling before you and whispering tales of dragonfire and ancient Valyria, the stories that shaped your dreams and nightmares alike. But this time, there is something else, a tension in his movements that you have rarely seen, a tension that makes your heart clench in your chest.
"Your brother," Daemon begins, his voice as cold as the wind that whips around you, "is dead."
The words slice through you, sharper than any blade, and you feel the ground beneath you sway as though it, too, has been struck. For a moment, the world stops. The roaring of the waves, the howling of the wind, all of it fades into a deafening silence that drowns you. The image of Luke—sweet, gentle Luke—flashes before your eyes. His bright smile, his laughter that could fill even the darkest of days with light, now extinguished.
You finally turn to Daemon, your eyes wide with disbelief, as if willing him to say it is a mistake, a cruel jest. But Daemon’s face is set in stone, his violet eyes hard and unreadable.
"Aemond," he continues, his voice dropping to a low growl, "killed him. Vhagar devoured Arrax. There was nothing left."
A gasp escapes your lips, and your knees threaten to buckle. The storm inside you breaks free, a torrent of emotions—grief, rage, betrayal—rushing through you all at once. You clutch your chest, as if trying to hold your heart together, but it is no use. The pieces are already shattered, scattered to the winds.
"Aemond," you whisper, the name a curse and a lament all at once. The man you were once betrothed to, the man who had once held your hand in a secret alcove of the Red Keep, who had once whispered words of love and promises of the future—he is now a stranger, a monster. How could he? The question rings in your mind, but there is no answer, only the hollow echo of your heartbreak.
Daemon watches you carefully, his expression unyielding. He has never been one for softness, not even with you, his niece whom he raised as his own daughter. But there is something in his gaze now, a flicker of something almost akin to sorrow. He steps closer, placing a hand on your shoulder. His grip is firm, steadying.
"This engagement is null," he states, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Aemond is no longer your betrothed. He is an enemy of our house, an enemy of yours."
You nod, though your mind is barely able to comprehend the words. The engagement had meant something once, a bridge between the two branches of your family, a hope for peace. But that hope has been dashed upon the rocks like a ship in a storm. There is nothing left but the wreckage.
"He was once... everything to me," you confess, your voice trembling. "How could he do this, Daemon? How could he kill Luke?"
Daemon's eyes narrow, a flash of fire in their depths. "Aemond is a creature of rage and pride, blinded by the lust for power and vengeance. He cares for nothing but his own glory, his own twisted sense of honor. Whatever feelings you thought he had for you, whatever feelings you had for him, they are ash now."
You bite your lip, trying to suppress the sob that threatens to escape. But it is futile. The tears spill over, hot and bitter. Daemon pulls you into a tight embrace, his arms a cage of protection and power. He has never been one to coddle you, but in this moment, he offers you the only comfort he knows how to give—his strength, his presence.
"We will make them pay, all of them," Daemon murmurs into your hair, his voice dark with promise. "For Luke, for our family. This war will not end until the debt is paid in full."
You nod against his chest, the pain in your heart hardening into something colder, sharper. Aemond’s face lingers in your mind, the way he looked at you when you were children, the way his eyes darkened with something more when you were older. But that is all it is now—a memory, a ghost of a past that no longer exists.
You pull back from Daemon, wiping your tears away with the back of your hand. Your heart still aches, but there is a new resolve in you, a determination to survive this, to fight for your family, for Luke.
“I will not forget,” you say quietly, your voice steady now. “But I will not let it destroy me, either.”
Daemon nods, a glimmer of approval in his eyes. “Good. We Targaryens are made of fire and blood. Remember that.”
As you stand there, the wind whipping through your hair, you let the words sink in. Fire and blood. That is what you are, what you have always been. The storm may rage on, but you will not be broken by it.
Cannibal’s distant roar echoes through the skies, and you lift your chin, feeling the fire within you begin to burn anew. Aemond may have taken Luke, but he has not taken your will, your strength. You will rise from these ashes, stronger than before. And when the time comes, you will face him—Aemond, the man who was once your betrothed, now your enemy—and you will show him what it truly means to be a Targaryen.
The wind bites at your face as Cannibal’s wings slice through the cold air. You’ve always felt most alive in these moments—when you are at one with the beast beneath you, the two of you merging into a single entity of power and purpose. You are no longer just the daughter of Princess Rhaenyra and the secret of Harwin Strong; you are a force of nature, the rider of the wildest and most feared of dragons. Cannibal roars, a sound that shakes the sky, and you cannot help but feel a grim satisfaction as you see Rook’s Rest below, knowing what is about to unfold.
Aemond Targaryen waits, hidden in the clouds atop Vhagar, the ancient dragon’s formidable presence a weight on the horizon. Aegon is beside him, perched on Sunfyre, whose golden scales glitter like a false promise in the pale daylight. They expect Melys, Rhaenys's scarlet queen, but what they get is something far more dangerous. Something personal.
Your heart beats a war drum’s rhythm in your chest as you approach, hidden by the sun behind you. They don’t see you coming, not at first. And when they do, it’s not Aegon who reacts but Aemond—his shock visible even from the distance. You can imagine his single eye widening, his lips parting in disbelief.
"It cannot be…" he breathes, low enough that only Vhagar might hear him. His thoughts spin in confusion and regret, the memories of what you once were to him clashing with the reality of the battle about to unfold. He’d thought you were lost to him, that the broken engagement was a final, irreparable severing of your fates. But now, here you are, as fierce and untamable as the dragon you ride.
Cole signals Aegon, and the elder brother does not hesitate. Aegon gives Sunfyre his head, and the golden dragon surges forward with all the arrogance and bravado his rider commands. The roar that splits the sky is not just from the dragon, but from Aegon himself, taunting, dismissive.
"Come to burn, have you?" Aegon shouts over the wind. "You’ll find this fire too hot!"
But you don’t respond with words. Cannibal lets loose a torrent of flame, a blackened blaze that reeks of burnt flesh and bones long devoured. The sky darkens with the ash of it, and Aegon’s confidence flickers like a candle in a storm. You feel the heat radiating off your dragon, the primal joy of the hunt thrumming through your bond.
Aemond watches, frozen in place. "Aegon, no!" he shouts, but his voice is swallowed by the roar of dragons and the rush of wind. He can only watch as the two dragons clash.
Cannibal is a creature of nightmares, his blackened scales absorbing the light, making him seem as though he is forged from shadow itself. He dives at Sunfyre with feral speed, his jaws snapping inches from Aegon’s arm. Sunfyre counters with a blast of flame, but Cannibal’s agility is unmatched. He twists in the air, dodging the fire as if it were a mere inconvenience.
Sunfyre is beautiful, a dragon that could have inspired a thousand songs. But beauty is no match for brutality. Cannibal rips into Sunfyre with a savagery that leaves you breathless, his claws tearing through the golden dragon’s wing, nearly severing it from his body. Aegon’s scream echoes in the heavens as he struggles to keep control, the pain of his dragon searing through their bond.
"Aegon!" Aemond roars again, urging Vhagar to move, but his dragon hesitates, sensing his rider’s turmoil. Vhagar is the mightiest of dragons, older than the rest, her wisdom far beyond Aemond’s years. She feels his conflict, the war inside him, and it makes her pause.
You see Aemond’s struggle, the way his grip tightens on Vhagar’s reins, the way his gaze locks onto you even as his brother is mauled in the sky. For a moment, you wonder if he will join the fray, if he will strike you down as he did Luke. But then his eye meets yours, and you see something unexpected—fear, not of you, but for you. The realization sends a cold shiver down your spine, but you don’t have time to dwell on it.
Cannibal snaps his jaws around Sunfyre’s neck, dragging the dragon down toward the ground. They crash through the trees, Sunfyre’s scream a thing of agony as he thrashes, desperately trying to free himself from the relentless assault. Cannibal’s fire ignites the forest below, turning the world into a hellscape of flame and shadow. Sunfyre’s golden scales are marred with blood and soot, his body a broken thing beneath the ferocity of your dragon.
Aemond watches in horror, his mind torn between duty and something far more dangerous—his heart. "Vhagar," he murmurs, "we have to stop this…"
But Vhagar, ancient and wise, does not attack. She circles above, watching, waiting. She feels the bond between her rider and the girl who should have been his wife, and she knows this is a battle not just of dragons, but of souls.
Finally, with a roar that shakes the heavens, Vhagar descends. Her massive form blots out the sun as she lands, the earth trembling beneath her weight. She crashes into Cannibal with all the force of a falling star, but she does not strike to kill. Instead, she pins Cannibal beneath her, her jaws snapping inches from his throat. The wild dragon thrashes, but Vhagar’s strength is unmatched. She holds him there, a warning, not a death sentence.
You feel Cannibal’s fury, his frustration, but also his grudging respect for the older dragon. The battle is over, for now. You sense Aemond’s hesitation, the war raging within him as he prepares to dismount.
But he doesn’t move, not yet. He looks down at you, at the girl he once loved, the girl he might still love, and his world tilts on its axis.
For the first time since the Dance began, Aemond Targaryen does not know what to do. And as Vhagar holds Cannibal pinned beneath her, you both realize that this battle was never just about dragons.
It was always about you.
And it always will be.
The ground rushes up to meet you as you leap from Cannibal’s saddle. The impact is brutal, a shockwave of pain that ripples through your body as you hit the earth with a resounding thud. The air is forced from your lungs, and for a terrifying moment, you can’t breathe. You gasp, struggling to draw in even a sliver of air, your vision darkening at the edges. But you force yourself to move, to push through the pain. You cannot afford to be weak now, not with him approaching.
Aemond’s boots crunch on the scorched ground as he strides toward you, his expression unreadable. You see him through a haze of pain, your vision slowly clearing as your breath comes in ragged gasps. Instinctively, you push yourself up, your muscles screaming in protest, but you will not be caught helpless. Not by him.
Before you can fully regain your footing, Aemond’s arms are around you, capturing you in a firm, unyielding embrace. His chest presses against your back, his grip like iron as you struggle against him. The more you thrash, the tighter his hold becomes, but he doesn’t hurt you. His voice, when it comes, is a low, soothing murmur in High Valyrian, a language that wraps around you like a soft cloak.
"Beloved, be still in my arms," he whispers, his breath warm against your ear. "Calm down."
The words are tender, almost loving, and they cut through your panic like a knife. His grip doesn’t loosen, but it no longer feels like a prison. Instead, it’s a strange comfort, his presence grounding you as your breath slowly returns to normal. The fight drains from your limbs, leaving only the exhaustion and the ache of what’s just happened.
When you finally stop resisting, Aemond’s grip eases, and he gently turns you to face him. You expect anger, fury even, for what you’ve done to his brother. But as you look into his eye, you find something else entirely—uncertainty. He stares at you as if you’re a puzzle he cannot solve, his usual confidence shaken.
"Aegon…" His voice is rougher now, tinged with something that almost sounds like regret. "You just struck down the King."
The words hang in the air between you, heavy with the weight of what they mean. Aegon Targaryen, the King, your uncle—his blood is on your hands now, as much as Cannibal’s. But you feel no guilt, only a cold, burning anger that flares to life at Aemond’s accusation.
"Like you killed Luke," you snap back, your voice laced with venom. The shadow of your father, Daemon, looms large in that moment, his defiance, his unyielding spirit echoing in your words. "You think I care for your brother’s crown when you stole my brother’s life?"
Aemond’s lips twitch, the barest hint of a smile forming as he watches you, admiring the fire in your eyes. It’s as though he expected this from you, and it pleases him to see you still have that flame burning within. He takes a step closer, his expression softening into something dangerously close to affection.
"Always so fierce," he murmurs, his voice dropping to a tone that is meant for you alone. "Just as I remember. Just as you’ve always been."
You can’t decide whether to move away or to stay rooted to the spot. His presence is overwhelming, intoxicating, and despite everything, a part of you aches for the connection you once shared. Before the bloodshed, before the war tore you apart. But the uncertainty gnaws at you, and you remain still as he reaches out, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face.
"Even now, I find myself drawn to you," he admits, his tone almost wistful. "Your strength, your fire... It’s what made me want you then, and what makes me want you now."
His words lull you, and despite yourself, you feel the tension in your body begin to ease. There is something in his voice, something genuine, that pulls at the frayed edges of your heart. But before you can fully comprehend what is happening, a shout cuts through the moment.
"My Prince!" Ser Criston Cole’s voice is sharp, commanding as he approaches. His armor is still bloodied from the skirmish, his face set in a stern mask. "Seize her! She is an enemy, a traitor to the crown!"
Aemond stiffens, the tender moment evaporating like mist in the sun. He turns to face Cole, his expression darkening as he steps protectively in front of you.
"I will do no such thing," Aemond says coldly, his voice hard as steel. "She is mine."
Cole looks shocked, his eyes widening in disbelief. "Prince Aemond, this is treason. The girl—"
"Is to be my wife," Aemond cuts him off, his tone leaving no room for argument. "We will wed in the tradition of Old Valyria. She will be my queen."
Cole’s face pales, his eyes darting between you and Aemond as if he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing. "This is madness," he insists, his voice rising with urgency. "The council will never accept it. The people—"
"The people," Aemond snaps, his patience wearing thin, "will accept what I tell them to accept. And if they do not, they will burn for their defiance. As will anyone who dares stand between me and her."
The threat is clear, and Cole flinches, realizing the seriousness in Aemond’s tone. He knows better than to challenge a dragon when its fire is so close to the surface. But still, he tries once more, his voice lowering in an attempt to reason with his prince.
"Think of the consequences, my prince," Cole urges, almost pleading now. "This could tear the realm apart."
Aemond’s gaze never wavers as he replies, his voice chillingly calm. "The realm is already torn apart. If it must burn, then it will burn with us as its rulers."
You watch the exchange with a mix of awe and dread. Aemond’s declaration sends a shiver down your spine, the weight of his words settling heavily in your chest. He’s serious—deadly serious. And in that moment, you realize there’s no escaping the path that has been set for you.
Aemond turns back to you, his expression softening once more as he reaches out to take your hand. His grip is firm, but not forceful, as though he’s offering you a choice, even if you both know that choice was taken from you the moment you leapt from Cannibal’s saddle.
"Come," he says softly, his voice a stark contrast to the fury he directed at Cole. "Let us finish what was started so long ago."
You look up into his eye, searching for some hint of deception, some sign that this is all a cruel trick. But all you find is resolve—and something else, something that looks very much like hope.
Before you can answer, Vhagar releases Cannibal, the great dragon rising from her position with a low, rumbling growl. Cannibal stirs, but he does not attack. Instead, he rises slowly, his eyes locked on Vhagar as he acknowledges her strength, if not her dominance. There’s a truce in the air, fragile as gossamer, but for now, it holds.
Aemond squeezes your hand, his gaze never leaving yours. "Together," he murmurs, his voice filled with a dangerous promise. "As it was always meant to be."
And as you stand there, caught between what was and what will be, you realize that there is no turning back. Not for you, not for Aemond, not for the realm. The dance is far from over, and now, it will be danced to a different tune—a tune of fire and blood, of love and hate, of destiny and defiance.
And you will dance it with him, until the very end.
For a split second, your eyes met and it felt like he could see right through you. You tried not to flinch, keeping your head straight on and your gaze locked on him, hoping he would would avert his gaze. But he didn’t.
“Bent. Knees.”
Oh.
OR; Prince Jacaerys Velaryon arrives at the Twins to secure passing for the troops marching for his cause. He is successful in more ways than one.
pairing: jacaerys velaryon x reader
warnings: SMUT! 18+, MDNI, oral sex (male receiving), p in v, as usual, Jace has been aged up to 20!
word count: 1,8k
author’s note: remember when i posted that pic of jace like three weeks ago? i looked at it last week and went "what if...?👀" and this was born. idk😭😭 also am i crazy or hasnt anyone written anything about this scene before?? that’s illegal🙅🏻♀️ anyways tagging my hotd bestie @eldrith ily thanks for letting me yap your ear off, happy reading y’all🫶🏼
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
You had heard rumours about the first son of Queen Rhaenyra; every lady that had met him sighed over his luscious dark brown locks or the handsomeness of his face that seemed to be carved out of the most expensive stone in the whole realm. Still, you were quite taken aback by how beautiful he really was when he crossed the bridge of the Twins, his dragon waiting for him in the greens just by the tower.
He truly knew how to make a first impression last.
“Lady Frey, Lord Frey,” Prince Jacaerys said, nodding to the sitting pair, hand on the hilt of his sword. His eyes flickered to you for a second.
“Lady…?”
“Frey, my Prince.”
Prince Jacaerys raised a surprise eyebrow but let it go uncommented, only eyeing you up and down very briefly before taking his sword off as he sat down.
Lady Frey poured him wine and without much preamble, they begun their talks of trades. You kept yourself mostly to the back, fulfilling your role as a ward, ever present but never putting your nose in affairs you had no business in. You tried to listen, the Prince seemingly asking for passing for troops coming in from the North, which Lady and Lord Frey agreed to after some negotiations; but you tried to use the advantage of being ignored to take in the Prince. He was young still, but he carried himself with a certain aura of power and confidence, which was a given; he was the Crown Prince of the Seven Realms after all.
Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted and you quickly put your very inappropriate thoughts about the Crown Prince away, trying to pay atention once more.
“You want Harrenhal.”
Lord and Lady Frey glanced at each other in silent conversation, while the Prince finished his drink, standing to hold his cup out for Lady Frey to refill.
“For that, my mother will want more than your crossing,” Prince Jacaerys said easily, his chin held high.
“What does her Grace desire?”
Prince Jacaerys discarded his cup on the table, leaning both his hands on it, towering over Lord and Lady Frey. For a split second, your eyes met and it felt like he could see right through you. You tried not to flinch, keeping your head straight on and your gaze locked on him, hoping he would avert his gaze. But he didn’t.
“Bent. Knees.”
Oh.
The sounds coming out of your mouth were scandalous and really downright filthy as the prince kept thrusting his cock in and out of your mouth, one hand fisted around your hair, the other holding onto his tunic, so he had a unobstructed view of you.
When Prince Jacaerys had asked you to show him the privy before he left, you had not expected him to back you into a secluded corner of the hallway, his lips upon yours.
You were on your knees, your pretty dress flared out on the dirty floor, the hard stones digging into your shins, likely leaving bruises, but you couldn’t find it in you to care.
“If I had known the Freys had such a pretty little thing for a ward, I would have come sooner,” Prince Jacaerys grunted, making you whine softly. He tightened his hold on your hair a little, snapping his hips up and tears sprang into your eyes as you nearly choked at the sheer size of him. Your hands grabbed at his waist to steady yourself, as he fucked his cock into your mouth, before he pulled out with a groan.
“Fuck, you nearly made me release,” Prince Jacaerys muttered, swiping his thumb over your lower lip. “But I am not quite done with you yet.”
He grabbed you by the arm, helping you stand, pressing his lips against yours, inarguably tasting himself on you, but Prince Jacaerys didn’t seem to mind. You pulled away from the kiss, your chest still heaving and your cheeks red. All of this was new to you, and you were embarrassed that you had to catch your breath.
Prince Jacaerys looked down on you with a smirk, brushing the sweaty hair off of your forehead.
“Turn around,” he said, turning you by the shoulder to press you up against the cold stone of the wall. “Have you ever laid with another man?”
“No,” you answered with a shake of your head, your cheeks turning a deeper red, nervous and excited at the same time, at the prospect of a man taking your maidenhood, the crown prince of the Iron Throne nonetheless.
“I’ll try to be gentle,” he whispered into your ear, his teeth nipping at your earlobe, making you shiver.
Slotting himself against your back, Prince Jacaerys lifted the skirt of your dress to reach between your legs, his fingers rubbing over your pearl, your hips bucking in surprise as you moaned out.
“Patience, my sweets,” Prince Jacaerys rumbled, trapping your skirt under his arm, which he snuck around your waist. His fingers circled into your folds, gathering your wetness before he dipped one finger into your cunt.
“Oh Gods help me,” you moaned, writhing in his arm and Prince Jacaerys only chuckled.
“No Gods here, only me.”
He pumped his finger in and out of your cunt, until your walls acclimated to the intrusion and he added another finger, making you roll your eyes to the back. Never before have you felt such pleasure down there, you weren’t sure if you could go back to not knowing how it felt.
“Just… One more,” Prince Jacaerys mumbled, adding a third finger and you felt incredibly full, like you were split open, but in a good way? The pads of his fingers kept brushing against the spongy part inside of you, which made you curl your toes in your shoes. You leaned your forehead against the cold stone, feeling a growing sensation in your lower stomach.
“I think… I think I might..” you groaned, your lips parted.
“What?” Prince Jacaerys said, his breath hot on your ear as he kept fucking you with his fingers. “Are you going to come, Lady Frey?”
“Y-yes, my Prince.”
“Call me by my given name and I’ll let you.”
He pressed onto your pearl with his thumb and you swore you saw black for second before you came, a moan of his name on your tongue.
“Incredible,” he whispered, pulling his hand away to tug on his cock that had been rutting against your backside, leaving a smear of his precum on your skin.
“This might be uncomfortable at first, but you’ll get used to it.”
You weren’t quite sure what Prince Jacaerys was talking about when you felt the head of his cock breaching your cunt and you let out a small gasp.
It hurt at first, and you let out a small breath as he kept pushing his cock in - Gods, did it ever end?
“Gods you’re tight,” Prince Jacaerys groaned, his hands gripping your waist when he was fully sheathed inside of you. You only whimpered in reply - how would you previously think you were full when he had three fingers inside of you? This was no comparison.
You let out a laboured breath, feeling a bead of sweat trickle down your temple and you shifted on your feet, letting out a surprised moan when it caused delicious friction of the Prince’s cock inside your cunt.
“Ah, you’re feeling it, don’t you,” Prince Jacaerys whispered lowly in your ear, bringing your hair to the side, so he could place wet kisses upon your back. “The pleasure coursing through you, like you have never felt before?”
Just as the words left his mouth, he started to thrust his cock into you with no abandon. The sounds of skin slapping skin filled the hallway, coupled with his grunts and your moans, it was a miracle no one stumbled upon you, but even if they did, you didn’t know if you’d care enough to stop.
Your blunt nails scraped against the walls, as the Prince’s cock kept going in and out, you were starting to see walls. It wasn’t long before you could feel the warm sensation in your lower stomach forming again, this time so much more intense.
“P-please,” you whimpered, your whole body feeling like it was burning.
“Lo ao’re beri nyke jāhor mazverdagon ao ñuhon,” Prince Jacaerys whispered into your hair as his cock drove into you.
You were too fucked out to realize you didn’t understand him, and definitely too fucked out to ask what he had just said to you, clinging to the wall for any semblance of support as your body shook with every thrust.
“I’m almost there,” Prince Jacaerys grunted, his hand finding your pearl again as he slowed his thrusts, instead thrusting harder, finger pressing down on your pearl. “Will you finish for me, my sweets?”
“Yes,” you moaned. “Don’t stop.”
The Prince only chuckled, not once pausing his movement but accelerating the circles he was drawing on your pearl, until you finally broke, a wave of pleasure washing over you so powerful it knocked you over.
“Gods, Jacaerys!” you moaned, your cunt pulsating in its wake, your eyes fluttering shut, leaning against the wall.
You were only standing because the Prince kept a steady grip on you, his cock still fucking into your wet, soppy cunt. His thrust stuttered before he gave one last, thrust, shooting his warm seed right into your hole, your cunt milking him for everything he was worth, the seed escaping from the sides, dripping down your legs as he pulled out.
With one hand, Prince Jacaerys tucked his cock back into his pants and letting your dress fall back down, his other hand holding you upright, your knees still weak.
“Can you stand?”
“I think?”
His hand was firm but gentle as he turned you around, a smirk on his lips as you looked up at him through your lashes, completely ruined. Again, he pushed the hair out of your face, almost lovingly, as if he didn’t just shoot his seed into your cunt, his seed that you could still feel trickling down your leg, beneath your dress.
“Maybe I will be back,” Prince Jacaerys said, wiping his thumb over you mouth. “Make sure you really are staying loyal to the rightful heir of the Iron Throne.”
You chuckled breathlessly, looking up at him. “House Frey would welcome you with open arms.”
The corner of his mouth ticked up, slowly released your waist, before he leaned down to kiss you deeply. You sighed softly against his lips, but the kiss was over sooner than you had wished, your mouth chasing his.
“Be good, make sure your guardians keep their words or I will come for their heads.”
With those words, Prince Jacaerys left you in the dark hallway, still catching your breath. This was not how you had envisioned the Crown Prince’s visit to go.
But who were you to complain if he was so generous?
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Lo ao’re beri nyke jāhor mazverdagon ao ñuhon = if you’re lucky i might make you mine
SUMMARY. You are the first daughter of Daemon and Laena Velaryon, betrothed to Prince Jacaerys Velaryon whom you have known since childhood. Queen Rhaenyra personally asked you to seek out knights and ladies with Targaryen blood to try and get them to claim a dragon to join the cause. You, always so attached to reading and the most studious and intelligent, did not hesitate to obey your queen, however, it was proving to be more difficult than you imagined. Luckily, Jacaerys knows how to help you.
NOTE. The thuth is that I don't know how thid got 5000 words, but here we are!!!
If anyone asked you, you had no idea how long you had been locked in the castle library. The queen had left you the task of researching in depth about the Targaryen lineage with valyrian blood and the right to claim a dragon, you did not refuse to comply with her orders, you were known for your intellect and interest about history, always with a different book under your arm, you handled data that the others did not, so you were in your comfort zone. However, you did not imagine it was going to be so complicated, you had had breakfast and lunch in the library in solitude, which meant that you had been locked up all day among papyrus, books written in the language of your family, you had read about the dragons still alive, especially Vermithor and Silverwing, but you found more than you needed and your attention jumped from subject to subject, you had never access to such a place and did it hold information on Targaryen history from the time of the conquerors to the reign of Jaehaerys I Targaryen.
"My lady," Elinda's voice, so soft and gentle as she addressed you, dissipated your attention causing you to turn your head up from your reading. The maid was standing in the doorway and you behind the wooden desk in the midst of your own chaos, you had ordered not to be disturbed unless it was an emergency. "why don't you go upstairs to dine with the queen in parlor?"
"I'm fine, thank you." You smiled trying to put on your best face, the truth was you didn't want to appear before Rhaenyra without any advances.
Elinda sighed knowing she wasn't going to be able to convince you to come out for fresh air, she wasn't surprised at your response, always so stubborn and driven to your ideas.
"It's okay, I know you, so I went ahead and brought dinner up here." She said walking over with the silver tray holding a steaming plate and a cup. "Eat before you rest, you've spent a lot of time in this place, you haven't been eating well and we don't want your body to weaken."
You nodded and thanked her before she left. You watched the food from afar without appetite, so you went back to reading, the Targaryen bloodline had expanded to different places, moving out of King's Landing and Dragonstone to other lands. You were writing down the possible names of knights and ladies with what needed to claim a dragon, so far there weren't many options, but you didn't want to be left in doubt you looked everywhere. You stood up to look for another book that you had not yet read, this time from the houses to the north, you had a mess everywhere and on every table, open books, scattered papyrus, the shelves almost empty. Your notes on the other hand, Valyrian texts that you read without problems, as if a hurricane had swept away the order.
You took from the cup that Elinda had brought you with sweet wine to which you gave a generous gulp. You paced back and forth reading and reviewing the history, trying to find useful connections to the present, back and forth, flipping through the pages and drinking. When you started to get dizzy from the spinning you found no better idea than to sit on the table crossing your legs no matter how uncomfortable your clothes were, on your thighs you opened the heavy book so you could hold the glass in your hands.
"Are you still here?" Jacaerys had entered the library, taking you by surprise. The heir found you in the middle of the mess, surrounded by papers, sitting on the table which was frowned upon for a lady. "I haven't seen you all day."
"I think I hate the Targaryen." You sighed, relaxing your shoulders and looking up. Jacaerys smiled coming closer, watching the mess around you out of the corner of his eye, but he was sure you were the one to find what Rhaenyra was looking for. "Is that wine?" he pointed to your goblet raising his eyebrows.
"Elinda feeds me like an imprisoned animal."
"I doubt an imprisoned animal would be fed lamb and wine." This time it was you who smiled. "How are you doing with your mission?"
"I found some names that might be of use, let's hope they are still alive." You replied setting the cup aside, on top of other papers that were of no use to you at the moment. "The children of King Jaehaerys and Queen Alyssane were a great starting point that I cannot yet move on from."
"My mother asked about your absence at the table. I told her you needed time, and that I was going to keep an eye on you." You nodded, a little flushed at the last part, but you knew how to hide it.
"That's Visenya Targaryen?" Jace asked excitedly as he looked at the draw in the book open on your legs, moving closer to you to get a better look, invading your space.
"Queen Visenya," you corrected him causing him to apologize. "Vhagar's first rider." You looked at the image closely admiring her beauty, trying to take in the closeness of Jacaerys. "And the first in her name."
Jacaerys watched you from the corner of his eye biting the inside of his cheek, he liked the way you corrected him, even on some occasions when you chatted privately he would purposely get it wrong to make you angry. You just looked up meeting your fiancé's gaze, which made him realize he had gone silent.
"This place is…" the heir looked around you carefully analyzing the place, he didn't know how to continue the sentence without offending you.
"Say it, a complete mess." You sighed exhaustedly.
The prince nodded with concern for your well being, you are his fiancée and he had to take care of you, he looked at you noticing your tired eyes, your hair a bit messy falling a few unruly strands down your face, the dress disarranged on your shoulders. And somehow, through his eyes, even though it sounded bad and he didn't have the courage to admit it out loud, that was attractive.
He took a lock of your hair and tidied it behind your ear, it was a gesture he repeated and you liked it.
"Do you need help?" you denied immediately, you didn't want to look pitiful or desperate. "Don't be proud, I know you."
"Apparently it's not as simple as I imagined." You said discouraged, looking at the papers scattered around you. You closed the book putting it aside, you couldn't think anymore, you were blocked, tired and your body was asking you to eat and rest, maybe not in that order. You stretched your legs, still sitting on the table with Jacaerys watching you. "Targaryen dynasty is vast and diffuse, complex to trace, now I understand why several names are missing. I don't want Rhaenyra to be disappointed, I'm trying my best."
Hearing you, Jacaerys quickly interrupted placing his hand on your thigh unknowingly unleashing a shiver down your back. "The queen could not have chosen anyone better than you, you are the smartest lady I know." He said sincerely, positioning his other hand on your shoulder. "Go to sleep, you need it."
Tired, you rested your forehead on his shoulder resting on it. Jacaerys stroked your loose hair without removing his hand on your leg. The physical contact comforted you, but you didn't accept it often, so it was a surprise for the prince to have you so close.
"I'll dream of dragons." You joked with your eyes closed, Jace's scent intoxicating you immediately. "I'll stay a while longer, I think I know where to find a thread to pull on."
"Eat something first." He added as he noticed the tray with the untouched plate. His caresses relaxed you, feeling his fingers tangle in your hair made you feel a delicious shiver, so you let him repeat it, even his tone of voice relaxed your muscles.
"I'm not hungry yet."
Jacaerys swallowed hard as your warm breath hit his neck, bristling his skin. He didn't know how the hell she was managing to control himself like that, when she held you close his thoughts were easily confused and the heart was about to burst out of his chest. In a moment of weakness, the prince closed her eyes in order to intensify the sensations, in the middle of the silence and taking advantage of the hidden place where they were, she squeezed thigh on the fabric of the dress, it was not strong, just enough to steal a sigh and that now the tachycardia clouded your reason. You didn't know at what moment that comforting embrace turned into a boundary of something else, Jacaerys Velaryon stirred as he felt the tip of your nose brush against his exposed neck before you, a slow, torturous contact.
The heir's hands were too still, he was controlling himself as much as his duty allowed him. While you had little interest in complying with the damned traditions, they were teenagers, you couldn't ask much of them in that regard.
The tension of their bodies rubbing against each other grew with each movement in a pleasant and affectionate rhythm, but you urgently needed it to increase, so you opened your legs to surround his body with your thighs, the prince did not think a second to position himself between them taking advantage to squeeze your ass tearing you a sigh that vanished in his mouth. You brought your lips to his neck leaving kisses all over, Jacaerys did not want to stop you, he had fallen too easily into the game. The prince's hands were eager to touch as much as possible went up from your waist to your breasts, you had never seen him like that, then your fiancé sought your mouth before you kissed his bristling skin again.
"Jace…" you whispered against his lips touching slowly with yours, your warm breath hitting his face, he could hear the desperation in your call looking into your eyes, but his gaze was focused on your wet lips.
Shit. His name sounded so different when you said it.
It was he who had the courage - or the impulse - to make the move to close the distance between you, an accurate approach to trap your lips between his, his hand took your jaw and prey to your desires you opened your mouth to let his tongue enter your cavity, sticky, wet noises echoed off the stone walls as Jacaerys brushed his tongue along yours. The taste of sweet wine ended up intoxicating him as well. His slow movement caused a wave of heat to grow in the underside of your belly, you rested a hand behind the back of his neck, tangling your fingers in his wavy hair.
Your heart could not calm down, on the contrary, it begged for more. The crown prince began to lift your red dress, a messy piece of infinite fabric, so you clumsily helped him by crumpling it until he slipped his hand underneath it, running his fingers over your bare skin playing with your sanity by how slowly he explored.
"Someone could see us at any moment." You reminded him that they weren't in the privacy of your quarters or his, trying to gesture because your labored breathing was making it hard to think.
"They can listen to whatever they want." He responde kissing your neck moving down to your collarbones, the heat of his mouth on your skin felt like the most exciting thing you had ever tasted. The intense grip on your legs didn't bother you at all because it was him, his deep voice made you bristle complete when he whispered too intoxicated in the moment to be his usual proper prince self. "I said I would take care of you."
You laughed at how little importance he gave to your innocent concerns, too sure that nothing was going to happen, but maybe it was just adrenaline and desire clouding his rational thoughts. Jacaerys kept going down, kissing between your breasts on the fabric, until he knelt before you, you held your breath when you understood his intentions, he raised his gaze towards you, an intense silence where your nobility was at stake for falling into carnal temptation, it was a few seconds until you decided to lift the skirt of your dress so he could have the access he desired.
Your fiancé began to kiss the inside of your thighs gently, just that minimal contact made you tremble on the table. "Don't close your legs." He ordered.
Your cheeks flared in heat as a reminder of the sin they were committing, yes, it was your fiancé who was between your legs unabashedly, but it was still Jace, whom you had known all your life and had grown up together, the most proper prince Westeros had ever seen, so devoted to duty that no one would imagine he would be able to steal your innocence out of wedlock, but there he was, he was the same, kneeling before you like a believer, kissing your thighs feeling his hot breath approaching your cunt exposed to his delight. The sighs coming out of your mouth were intensifying as Jacaerys swollen lips approached your most sensitive area making him beg, you felt he was toying with your sanity but he only wanted to extend your pleasure as long as you would hold out. Your hands clutched at the fabric of your dress, his wet tongue flicked across your cunt, he didn't quite finish his journey when your knees had the urgent urge to close like a natural spasm, but Jacaerys prevented it by holding your legs tightly apart for him, continuing his work of giving you the pleasure you deserved.
"Oh, Jace, gods." You said with bated breath, an emotional torture of not knowing how far you could go before you screamed. His tongue kept licking like candy, unabashedly tasting knowing what he was doing, moving up and down listening to your moans that excited him as much as it did you to feel his mouth on your center, the heir seemed to be having fun taking his time under your dress, reveling in your desperation. The warm wet sensation on your folds sliding down began to make you desperate, in an attempt to quiet your moans so as not to draw attention to yourself you bit your tongue so hard that the moan was one of pain rather than pleasure. You crumpled some papers in search of what to hold on to, you closed your eyes intensifying the spasms even more. "Jacaer…"
Saying his name seemed the most difficult task.
You managed to feel the crown prince's long fingers opening your pussy slippery with his saliva and your transparent wetness dripping. Again he ventured in with his mouth, this time with more euphoria and hunger, making little circles with his tongue, drowning himself in you tasting your cunt as he had never done to any of the whores on the island, with you he took great pains to get it right. Agitated, chest rising and falling from your erratic breathing the prince placed one of his hands on your belly as if he knew you were looking for him, intertwining his fingers you squeezed as his tongue pushed into your entrance. Curiosity as to how he learned to do that had to wait because your legs began to tremble and you began to move struggling against the strength of Jacaerys who wasn't going to stop servicing you until you were done.
"Please… Jace."
"You are so wet." Said the prince as an accomplishment, but you were embarrassed to know how vulnerable you were before him. The sound of his mouth playing with your clit, so wet and wrong, similar to a kiss where Jace was just doing all y he work. You searched for his head with your hand which was complicated by being hidden under your skirt, the damn dress prevented you from looking into his eyes, you wanted to look at him and beg his face not to stop now that you were so close to touching the best orgasm of your life. Jacaerys was struggling with your legs, so he put your thigh over his shoulder without letting go of your hand. "You have to hold on a little longer. I promise you'll like it."
"I c-can't." You cried trembling.
Between your legs, Prince Velaryon was reveling in your pleasure with a painful erection trapped in his pants that only hardened against the fabric with every high-pitched moan coming from your throat. He had to be strong to hold back the urge to take advantage of your wetness and penetrate you right then and there, that wasn't the first time he thought of you that way nor was it going to be the last after tonight, he would go to his quarters overwhelmed to attend to himself just thinking of you for another night. You were so open that with a little strength you could take it, but you were not ready for the moment and deep down, Jacaerys felt just as guilty for giving in to temptation by breaking traditions, disrespecting you to a lady of nobility.
"Jace, oh, like that." You moaned wiggling your hips.
But shit, he couldn't take one more moon without claiming that belongs to him. Your whole body, your every desperate moan and plea. It was an addictive melody that he didn't want it to end.
You reached for his head with your hand under the cloth that was being Jacaerys' salvation because if he saw your sweaty face, pink cheeks and pleading gestures he wasn't going to be able to hold back the urge, fucking you right there on that table. Merciful to your clumsiness, Jace took your hand turning it towards the back of his neck, you tangled his wavy hair between your fingers, bringing it closer to your center than it already was which only encouraged your fiancé to lose control by gently biting your cunt and with his finger caressing your exposed clit like a throbbing button.
"Gods!" You exclaimed so loudly that Jace feared for both of your lives. You covered your mouth yourself, waiting for someone to walk in and find them you sitting at the table with the heir kneeling between your legs under your dress. "I-I'm sorry." You whispered in exasperation.
"Scream whatever you want." It was a command rather than a comfort.
And you listened to him. Your body couldn't resist any longer, the spasms were getting stronger and Jacaerys knew you were close to orgasm, your legs faltered and couldn't hold still. You pulled your fiancé's hair, which instead of annoying him, he liked to feel. You mumbled incoherently, cursing everything, your hips couldn't stay still and Jacaerys' tongue wasn't making it any easier. You let go of the heir's hand on your belly to cover your mouth, however, Jace grabbed your wrist preventing that from happening. The rule had been clear, he wanted to hear you screaming his name to burn it into his memory, he wanted to hear your whimpers and pleas not to stop, your choked moans, the curses and incoherent ramblings.
"Jace!" your chest was rising and falling so fast you felt short of breath. The pressure between your legs was increasing, you closed your eyes tightly trying to hold on a second longer, but it was impossible. "Oh, shit!"
Your orgasm came as a spasm that controlled your whole body, from your hair to your legs. Jacaerys knew it when the tension in your muscles disappeared and he didn't have to exert any more force to hold you back. His pace slowed considerably, he didn't hold back from licking one last time.
Your body was wracked, aroused to return to normal. Your chest was expanding and contracting fast, the sweaty skin made it look shiny. Your body had peaked, and now, you missed Jacaerys' tongue between your legs. The heir stepped out from under your skirt, his mouth wet from his own saliva and your wetness in a mixture that soaked into his pink, swollen lips. The prince was red in the face, his hair falling down his face in the most exciting mess, he looked so good. He wiped his mouth with his clothes and fixed his hair behind his ears without taking eyes off you.
"You were very good lady." He stroked his thumb across your red cheek, you closed your eyes at his gentle, almost brotherly caress, a well-deserved congratulations. You were still weak and rambunctious with ragged breathing and a high pulse, your body wasn't going to withstand another orgasm, not for tonight. Jace moved closer to your face, he wanted to admire you up close, your exposed neck was the target of a kiss. "Did you like it?" he whispered so slowly against your ear that a shiver brought you back to reality. His breath beating against your damp skin was a reminder that you were completely crazy about him, no one in all of Westeros could service you so well.
You nodded in shame and innocence. You couldn't hear him, but you knew he was smiling.
"Y-yes." You replied looking into his eyes. Your innocent look reignited the fire in Jacaerys, who was still holding back the urge to fuck you.
The prince closed his eyes and swallowed saliva in frustration. He had to be aware that no matter how good it felt, it wasn't right.
"We can't do it here again." He took your face in his hands caressing your skin with his fingers. You nodded again, seeing you so obediently at his mercy only triggered his excitement, fighting until the last second. Jacaerys moved closer to your face, you closed your eyes expecting him to kiss you, but you only felt the brush of his lips against yours and his breath against your mouth. "Next time I'll rip that fucking dress off you myself with my bare hands."
The grand hall of the Red Keep was alive with celebration, the echoes of laughter and music filling the air as the wedding festivities for the Crown Prince of the Seven Kingdoms continued late into the night. The union between Jacaerys Velaryon, the future heir to the Iron Throne, and the reader, a noblewoman of high standing, was a momentous occasion. It was a match that had been anticipated for years, ever since their betrothal was announced when they were both very young.
Though their marriage had been arranged, there was genuine affection between you and Jacaerys. Over the years, you had grown close, sharing stolen moments in the gardens of Dragonstone and long conversations by the fire during the cold winters. Jacaerys was a man of duty, but he had always treated you with kindness and respect, valuing your opinions and cherishing your presence. As the years passed, your bond deepened, evolving from a tentative friendship into something much stronger, a love that neither of you had expected but were grateful to have found.
Tonight, that bond was to be consummated, sealing your union not just in the eyes of the realm, but in the eyes of the gods as well. The thought made your heart race with a mixture of excitement and nervousness as you stood at the center of the hall, surrounded by the revelry.
Jacaerys was by your side, his hand resting lightly on your back as he engaged in conversation with the lords and ladies who had come to celebrate your wedding. He looked every bit the prince he was, tall and regal in his dark attire, his dark hair falling in soft waves that framed his handsome face. There was a warmth in his dark eyes as he glanced over at you, a reassuring smile playing on his lips that made your heart flutter.
As the evening wore on, the mood in the hall grew more raucous, the guests well into their cups and eager for the next part of the night's events-the bedding ceremony. The air was thick with anticipation, the guests exchanging knowing glances and ribald jokes as they waited for the signal to begin.
Finally, Lord Corlys Velaryon raised his goblet, his booming voice cutting through the din. "To the bedding!" he declared, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
A cheer went up from the crowd, and before you could react, you felt hands tugging at the laces of your gown. Laughter echoed around you as the guests moved in, eager to carry you off to the marriage bed. But before they could pull you away, Jacaerys stepped forward, his arm wrapping protectively around your waist as he gently but firmly held the crowd at bay.
"Easy, my friends," he said with a laugh, his voice carrying a note of authority that made the guests pause. "There is no need to rush. We will see to this ourselves."
There was a murmur of surprise, but the guests quickly acquiesced, stepping back with playful grins and nods of approval. They respected Jacaerys too much to challenge him, and besides, there was something endearing about the way he was so protective of his new wife.
With the crowd giving you some space, Jacaerys turned to you, his hand coming up to cup your cheek as he looked into your eyes, his expression softening. "Are you alright?" he asked, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin.
You nodded, grateful for his intervention. "Thank you, Jace," you murmured, leaning into his touch.
He smiled, a tender expression that made your heart swell with affection. "There is no need to thank me, my love. I would never let them take you from me."
With that, he took your hand, leading you through the throng of well-wishers and up the winding staircase to your chambers. The journey was a blur, your heart pounding in your chest as the reality of what was about to happen began to sink in. You had been waiting for this night for so long, and now that it was here, you couldn't help but feel a mixture of anticipation and trepidation.
As you reached the door to your chambers, Jacaerys paused, turning to face you. His eyes were filled with a tender warmth as he took both of your hands in his. "I know this is a momentous night," he said softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "But I want you to know that we don't have to rush anything. We will go at your pace."
You smiled, your heart swelling with love for the man you had married. "I trust you, Jace," you whispered, squeezing his hands in reassurance.
He nodded, his expression softening even further. "As do I, with all my heart," he replied, before opening the door and leading you into the room.
The chamber was bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, the warm, flickering flames casting a golden hue over the rich tapestries and the large bed that dominated the center of the room. The bed was draped in silks and furs, a testament to the luxury and status that came with being the future king and queen.
Jacaerys closed the door behind you, the sound of the revelry outside fading into the background, leaving the two of you in a cocoon of intimacy. For a moment, you both stood there, taking in the enormity of the moment, the weight of your new titles, and the future that lay ahead of you.
Sensing your nervousness, Jacaerys walked over to the table where a decanter of wine sat waiting. He poured two goblets, handing one to you before downing his own in a single, practiced motion. The sight made you giggle, the sound breaking the tension in the air.
He smiled sheepishly, setting his empty goblet aside. "A little liquid courage never hurts," he said with a wink, his playful demeanor putting you at ease.
You took a sip of your own wine, the rich, sweet flavor calming your nerves as you watched him. There was something reassuring about the way he moved, the way he smiled at you, as if he was determined to make this night as comfortable and special as possible.
Setting your goblet down, you took a deep breath and stepped closer to him, your fingers brushing against the fastenings of his doublet. "Shall we begin?" you asked softly, your eyes meeting his.
Jacaerys's expression softened, his hands coming up to gently cradle your face as he leaned in to kiss you. The kiss was slow and tender, a promise of what was to come, as his lips moved against yours with a gentle insistence that made your heart race.
As the kiss deepened, you felt his hands begin to move, his fingers deftly working to undo the laces of your gown. The fabric loosened and fell away, sliding down your shoulders to pool at your feet, leaving you in nothing but your thin chemise. The cool air of the room brushed against your skin, but the heat of Jacaerys's gaze was all you felt as he stepped back to take you in, his eyes darkening with desire.
"You are breathtaking," he murmured, his voice husky as he reached out to run his hands over your bare shoulders, down your arms, and around your waist, pulling you close.
Your breath hitched as you felt the hard planes of his body press against yours, the evidence of his desire clear as he held you close. His lips found yours again, this time more insistent, as he backed you towards the bed, his hands never ceasing their exploration of your body.
The bed hit the back of your knees, and you tumbled onto the soft mattress, Jacaerys following you down. He hovered over you, his dark hair falling around his face as he looked down at you with an intensity that made your pulse quicken.
With a slow, deliberate motion, he reached for the hem of your chemise, pulling it up and over your head, leaving you completely bare beneath him. His eyes roved over your body, his hands following the path of his gaze as he explored every inch of you, his touch both reverent and possessive.
"You are mine," he whispered, his voice filled with a quiet determination as he leaned down to press a kiss to your collarbone, then lower, his lips tracing a path down your body.
You shivered under his touch, your hands coming up to tangle in his hair as he worshipped your body with his lips and hands. He took his time, savouring the feel of your skin beneath his fingers, the taste of you on his tongue, until you were trembling with need, your body aching for more.
Finally, unable to wait any longer, Jacaerys pulled back, his hands moving to undo the laces of his own breeches. You watched, your breath catching in your throat as he stripped off the last of his clothing, revealing the hard lines of his body, the muscles rippling under his skin as he moved to join you on the bed.
He settled between your legs, his hand sliding up your thigh to part your folds, his fingers brushing against your core with a touch that made you gasp. He teased you, his fingers circling your sensitive nub, before sliding into you with a slow, steady motion that had you arching into him, your nails digging into his shoulders as he worked you with a skill that only a husband who knew your body intimately could possess.
The pleasure built slowly, a steady crescendo that had you writhing beneath him, your breath coming in ragged gasps as he brought you to the brink of ecstasy, only to pull back at the last moment, leaving you trembling with need.
"Jace, please," you whimpered, your voice barely a whisper as the tension within you became unbearable.
Jacaerys smiled down at you, his expression one of tender affection mixed with desire. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. "Patience, my love," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. "I want to savour every moment of this."
His words were filled with a promise, and though your body screamed for release, you nodded, trusting him completely. Jacaerys's hand slid back down to your core, his fingers slipping inside you once more, this time with a slow, deliberate rhythm that had you gasping for breath. Each stroke was measured, the pads of his fingers pressing against that sweet spot inside you, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your veins.
Your hips bucked against his hand, desperate for more, and he obliged, quickening his pace just enough to drive you closer to the edge. His thumb brushed over your sensitive nub, the added stimulation sending a shockwave of pleasure through your body that had you clenching around his fingers, your release just out of reach.
Sensing your need, Jacaerys leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss as his fingers worked you with expert precision. The kiss was a heady mix of passion and desperation, your mouths moving against each other with a hunger that matched the intensity building inside you. You could taste the wine on his lips, mingling with the salt of your shared sweat, a potent combination that only heightened the urgency of the moment.
When he finally pulled back, his lips were red and swollen from the kiss, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he looked down at you with a fierce determination. "You're mine," he growled once more, his voice thick with emotion as he removed his fingers from your heat, leaving you feeling empty and bereft for the briefest moment.
Before you could protest, he positioned himself at your entrance, his hard length pressing against your core, the tip just barely breaching you. He paused, his eyes locking with yours as he waited for your nod of approval. When you gave it, his lips quirked up in a soft smile, and with one fluid motion, he thrust into you, filling you completely.
The sensation was overwhelming, the stretch of him inside you both painful and pleasurable as your body adjusted to his size. He stilled for a moment, giving you time to acclimate, his hands bracing on either side of your head as he gazed down at you with an intensity that took your breath away.
"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice laced with concern as he searched your face for any sign of discomfort.
You nodded, your hands gripping his shoulders as you pulled him down for another kiss, your lips moving against his with a fervour that left no doubt of your desire. "I'm more than alright," you whispered against his lips, your words punctuated by a roll of your hips that had him groaning in response.
Taking that as his cue, Jacaerys began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first, each one sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body. He set a steady rhythm, the friction between your bodies building with each movement, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room as you lost yourselves in the heat of the moment.
As the pleasure mounted, his pace quickened, his thrusts becoming harder, more desperate, as he chased his own release. Your bodies moved in perfect sync, the connection between you deeper than just the physical act, as if your very souls were entwined in this moment of pure ecstasy.
You could feel the coil of pleasure tightening in your core, the pressure building to a crescendo that had you teetering on the edge of oblivion. Sensing your impending release, Jacaerys shifted his angle, his hips snapping forward with a precision that had him hitting that sweet spot inside you with every thrust, sending you hurtling over the edge.
Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing with pleasure as you cried out his name, your nails digging into his back as you clung to him, the sensation overwhelming in its intensity.
The feeling of you tightening around him was Jacaerys's undoing, and with a few more frantic thrusts, he found his own release, spilling into you with a guttural groan. He collapsed onto you, his weight a comforting presence as you both struggled to catch your breath, the aftershocks of your shared pleasure still rippling through your bodies.
For a long moment, you lay there together, the world outside forgotten as you basked in the afterglow of your lovemaking. Jacaerys's hand found yours, his fingers lacing with yours as he pressed a soft kiss to your temple, his breath warm against your skin.
"I love you," he whispered, his voice filled with a quiet reverence that made your heart swell with emotion.
"I love you too," you replied, your voice equally soft as you turned your head to look up at him, your eyes meeting his in a gaze that spoke volumes of the love and devotion you felt for him.
With a contented sigh, Jacaerys rolled onto his side, pulling you with him so that you were nestled against his chest, his arms wrapped securely around you. The warmth of his body and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulled you into a state of blissful contentment, the worries of the world outside your chamber forgotten in the safety of his embrace.
As you drifted off to sleep, you couldn't help but smile, your heart full of love and hope for the future. You had married the man you loved, and though the road ahead would no doubt be filled with challenges, you knew that as long as you had Jacaerys by your side, there was nothing you couldn't face together.
So as we’ve seen Nico has been working out so much (delicious man) and I was thinking about a smut where reader wants to take care of Nico and give him a massage to help him relax but Nico quickly turns it into something more
Recovery with Nico Hischier
A/N: I finally did it.... I finally finished my 300 follower request. GOOD LORD! Sorry this took so long. Lessons have been learned 😘 Cheers to Nico smut to start the weekend!
Word Count: 1.7k
Warnings: SMUT 18+ Content
You’re laying flat on your back on the couch when Nico comes home from summer training. You look away from your book to his slow moving frame. He is stretching his neck from side to side as he tosses his bag by the door. He slowly kicks his shoes off, then removes his socks, tossing them towards the hall that leads to your bedroom. You frown. This is not normal demeanor for your boyfriend in the off-season. He usually skips in here, excited about having some quality time with his Swiss buddies, including his brother.
“Hi baby.” You call out to him.
“Hi sweets.” He responds.
“Long day?”
“Yeah. I think coach’s goal was to break my spirit today.” You chuckle.
“And to think, you pay him to do that to you.”
“Something is wrong with me.”
“No, you’re perfect.” You insist to him. You replace your bookmark, then toss the book on the coffee table next to you. After a glass of water, Nico comes to the side of the couch then drapes himself on top of your body. His face finds the soft pillows of your breasts, settling against them.
“You tired?” You murmur, trying to gage more of what ails him.
“No, I’m sore. My whole body hates me.”
“I can give you a massage?” You ask him, leaning forward to kiss the top of his head.
“I wouldn’t say no to that.” He presses his skin deeper into your cleavage.
“Okay, let me go get lotion for your hairy ass legs.” You tease him. He laughs, shrugging like that is a fair statement because it is.
When you return from the bathroom, Nico is laying on his back on the floor with his eyes closed. He’s lost his shirt and is holding one leg in the air, feet flat with toes pointing towards the ceiling, then moving down towards his head.
“Is there an area that is worse?” You ask. He pops one eye open at you, then closes it again.
“Honestly, my quads.” You nod, getting down on your knees. You squirt a bunch of the lotion in your hand then warm it up between your palms. Nico winces as you run your hand in a cupped position over his quad. He grunts out in pain at the digging of your fingers into his sore muscle. Knots can be felt the entire length of his thigh. No wonder he’s so uncomfortable. You work quietly for a few minutes, only Nico’s whinging and grunting filling the living room.
“Oof, you’re so tight.” You tell him, getting up onto your knees for a better position to work your upper body into the motion.
You get to a particularly bad spot, pressing in deep, using your body weight to work through the knot. Nico reaches out for the back of your thigh, running his finger tips along it as he grimaces his eyes closed. While you’re hurting him, he’s making zings of pleasure race down your body. You feel your nipples tighten against your t-shirt into aching points. You glance over to his face again. His grimace softens and he moans gently.
“Nico.” You chuckle, shaking your head.
“Hm?” He asks innocently. His gaze travels down to your chest, slow smile coming out when he sees the stiff peaks. He brings a hand up, cupping one. You lean down lower to work into his other quad. He yelps quietly, then squeezes your breast. This time, you moan. You spend time there, but this one is less tight than the other one, so he handles the treatment well. His fingers keep exploring, running down your back to your ass, giving it a grip every time you “go over a tight area”.
“Can you work on my chest?” He asks, releasing your ass to open his arms for you to straddle him.
“This seems not real.”
“It’s real. So many push ups and presses.” He pouts his lip out. You oblige, settling into his lap and feeling the thickness of his erection press into your heat. His chest is fine, but you play along anyway. You lean forward, keeping your weight off where he wants you. You stretch your fingers along his pectoral muscles, feeling for any tightness. You work from the center out to the sides. Nico lets you stay hovering and teasing until his hand comes to your ass, pressing you back down onto him.
“Need help with this next.” He murmurs, licking his lips. His other hand comes to your hip so he can rock you into him. His thumb presses into your hip bone, pushing down until you grind him just right. He bites his bottom lip, watching the softening of your face as he rubs your mound on him. He pays extra attention to your clit, exhaling heavily when you let out a whimper for more. His grip on you tightens, then he rolls, surprising you by getting you onto your back.
“How you gonna fuck me with sore quads?” You ask as you pull your shirt over your head.
“I’ll find a way to power though.” He chuckles, leaning down to kiss you. “That’s how much I love you.” You smile against his mouth then nibble on his bottom lip.
“Luckiest girl in the world.” You murmur. Nico’s hands come to your shorts. He wiggles them down your legs, then discards them off to the side.
His mouth presses along your throat, then down between the mountains of your breasts. Goosebumps break out along the trail of wet marks he leaves on your body. You bring your hands up to the side of his head, following with him as he kisses your lower belly. His nose presses in there, eyes closing as he works lower and lower. Your mouth opens in anticipation as he hovers over your clit. His eyes meet yours. He pops a smirky grin then watches you observe him connect his tongue to you. You sigh in pleasure, resisting the urge to arch into his face so soon.
But then his lips enclose the bud completely. He sucks. And any modesty or resolve is obliterated. Your back curls up off the floor and Nico snickers against you. Your fingers thread through his long, brown hair, gripping and tugging to shut him up. He focuses harder. He loves when you come first. He craves it like breath. Needing to feel you buck under his grasp, the way you softly moan his name right when you’re about to come.
“Nico.” You whisper breathlessly. Your eyebrows pull together. Your next breath catches. He stays with you through the build, tasting your orgasm the moment it hits you. Your body feels like it’s floating as the pleasure washes over your body like a warm hug. Your fingers releases his hair and he back off your folds. He presses praising kisses along your body, working his way back up.
“Wanna taste?” He asks, hovering over your face. You moan, gripping his neck to pull his face to you.
“Damn, you’re so good at that.”
“Cause I know you so well.” He responds, kissing your lips tenderly, awakening your body again.
You both work his shorts down his body. When they are off, he goes in for another kiss. Again, your smile breaks you apart. This is life with him- constantly blissed out and smiling cause he takes such good care of you. Nico chuckles then reaches between your bodies to get himself situated.
“I’m so happy.” You whisper as he slides in. You bite your bottom lip, savoring that first connection. The way he fills you and how still, after all these times you’ve had him, he checks in with you to make sure it’s okay. You nod when his brown eyes meet yours. Sweet sincerity fills his beautiful orbs.
“Me too. Nothing feels as good as this.” He murmurs, nose stroking against yours.
He grabs your left leg, wrapping it around his back as he begins to move. Fire ignites in your heart and spreads like wild through your whole body. You cup the back of his head, keeping your faces close as he finds a rhythm that’s going to work for both of you. Little grunts and heavy sighs fill the void between your lips until you need to feel his on yours. You bring his face down, savoring the taste of him with your tongue.
“Fuck, you feel so good.” Nico breaks the kiss, moaning as you tighten around him further at his words. You’re soaked, slickness creating a delicious friction with his thrusts. Nico brings his hand up to your hair, tangling in the strands. His head tilts away from yours as his tempo rises. You wrap your other leg around him, keeping him deep and steady. You float a hand to your folds, finding your clit and rubbing greedily. Nico groans at the feeling of you touching yourself in time with his thrusts.
“Neeks.” You turn your face into his. You suck his ear lobe into your mouth. Nico’s hips jerk for a moment then refocus deeper. “Right there.” You beg. He sighs heavily, turning to shove his face into your hair. “You fuck me so good.” Nico grunts then spills into you. You grin then let the feeling of his pulsing inside of you take you over the edge too. Your core grips his sensitive shaft tightly. Nico groans loudly, squeezing his arms tightly around you. His arms shake as he tries to keep his body weight from crushing into you.
One of your legs drops from around his waist. He whines, then grabs it, replacing the weight against his butt.
“Not ready.” He mumbles. You chuckle, bringing a hand up to stroke along his shoulders. His muscles here have gotten bigger this off season. He’s putting on more muscle than ever with this new training plan and you’re more than happy to be the beneficiary. “Gonna need another massage now.” Nico says as he pulls away, looking down at your face.
“Twist my arm.” You joke. You both smile at each other. His dimples shining at you as his gaze strokes down your naked body beneath him.
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