#jacemondweek2025

[jacemondweek25]

prompts for #jacemondweek2025 ! 20 - 26 october 🥀

[jacemondeater]

Let Us Wile Away the Hours

OCTOBER 22 --- JACEMOND WEEK , 2025 :: TABOO

smutt sucks everything else is pretty dope

CW ::

noncon / rape

forced feminization

"What if he doesn't like me?" Jace sighed, playing with the frontal lacing of his corset.

"I'm sure your uncle Aemond will adore you." Daemon piped up from the doorway, tilting his head slightly as he studied the scene afoot.

His wife, Rhaenyra, busied herself with the task of taming the unruly locks that had been Jacaerys' hair. His curls were much looser than they had once been, before he presented as an omega. She supposed the hormones and the weight of his newly grown out hair had changed certain things about Jacaerys.

Jace sat calmly, fidgeting with his hands that had once wielded swords. Those, too, had grown soft and delicate. In childhood, Jace remembered being stout. With brawny little digits and a barreling center, he could wrestle any of his peers to the dirt.

Of course, because of his physique and competitive nature, everyone had assumed Jace would grow to be an alpha.

They dressed him masculine doublets with thick fabric upon the shoulders to make him look broader. He remembered how cold the golden clasps of them were against his chest in the morning -- along with the chafing from how rough the material was against his skin.

Now, all he seen in the mirror had been the ideal omega.

Long, thick hair that had been braided and wrapped to look like little chocolate roses upon the base of his skull. His brown eyes glimmered with the lapping flames of surrounding candles. They were large, constantly peering upwards due to his stunted height; not to mention his eyelashes. Coated in blackened beeswax that had been applied with a small, coarse hairbrush, he looked like a proper little fawn.

But overall, his curves seemed to draw the most attention.

Jace lacked breasts, but that hadn't been much of a surprise. Not only was he born male, but his second gender didn't advance onto him until he had been fifteen years of age. This fact didn't trouble Jace, his rump made up for his inadequate chest and his waist sinched in just enough to create an illusion of greater figure than he had.

And the dress they stuck him in? Well, the silky pink of the fabric captured light so well that his mother, along with many of the maids, had collectively decided that it would be the perfect garment for meeting his betrothed. However, the wrap had been fairly loose, so they did some last-minute-tailoring and added some golden rings to the front in a traditional boning structure. With some ribbon tied into pretty bows, the image of Jacaerys Velaryon -- soon to be Targaryen -- was a perfectly painted picture.

It wasn't a question how Jace felt about the situation. He was to be king someday, and he did exactly what he was told to ensure his spot on the throne. But this?

He didn't utter a complaint, but being a helpless omega wasn't what he planned nor hoped for.

There was enjoyment in being pretty. Primal urges were satisfied when gorged on his reflection, but there were numerous times when Jace felt he had been prepared for more in life than to simply be his uncle's wife. He found solace in being pampered and only fraught by simple things like how his hair hadn't cooperated for the day, or how his eyelashes weren't perfectly symmetrical; but he missed when a steel sword much too large for him had been a familiar weight on his hip. Now, all he was permitted to wield had been a small dagger strapped to his thigh under his skirts.

Jace thought it beat the purpose of having it if he couldn't reach it in the matter of seconds, but he didn't object. He'd rather something than nothing, and a feminine little knife was much better than empty air.

Though, he wouldn't need that kind of defense if Aemond was half the swordsman the family had preached.

Jace shifted uncomfortably, the straightness of his back faltering for a few moments. The air in Kings Landing was stale compared to Dragonstone. Full of the smoke of a thousand miniature hearths and piss. He wondered how he was supposed to live here once his mother's reign began.

Rhaenyra made a little noise of delight as she pinned the final twisted braid into the array of others, clearly proud of her handiwork and skill for this particular hairstyle. A cluster of Dornish handmaidens, many years ago, had taught her how to do it on a rather long boat venture. It wasn't a question why she was so brightened by the finished product; she finally got to put her knowledge to good use.

"Oh, you look lovely, Jace." His mother sighed, smoothing a hand over her gowns as she rose to her feet. Jace only gave himself a slight glance in the glass, before peering back to his hands. He could feel the weight of his parents' eyes on him, and the expectations of him that hung in the air like a potent aroma. He was to wed Aemond Targaryen within the fortnight.

The creek of the chamber doors drew the attention of the room, Jace's breath hitching as if his intuition told him exactly what she was there for. A garden walk was to be had late in the evening, Alicent had told Rhaenyra. This was his beckoning.

A maid emerged quietly into the threshold of the room, drawing in a slight gasp at the sight of Jace. Nobody in the Red Keep had ever really seen him before, not since his birth. His mother fled to Dragonstone the day Jace came wailing into the world with her sworn protector, Ser Harwin Strong, in hopes to avoid the bastardization of her son. Of course, word found its way around and everyone knew that he wasn't trueborn -- but what did that matter when their houses were to join?

The small maid swallowed tightly, gaunt arms wrapping around her back as she bowed her head in respect of the comely omega. She was a beta; the whole room could scent it. Freshly cut grass and a tang of cinnamon, lacking all whiff of that primitive desire that was heady amongst alphas and omegas alike. A purity, Jace thought. Betas were like gems to the Targaryen's.

"Prince Aemond requests your company in the keep gardens, my..." she trailed off, looking for the correct verbiage in addressing a male omega, soon to be a wife.

The edges of Daemon's mouth curled upwards, almost pretentious in nature. "-Princess. Jacaerys will be a princess, before he is a queen." His father finished, though it didn't feel much like a jest. His tone was unwavering.

"Right, pardon me, princess." The woman breathed nervously, clearly unaccustomed to omegas, especially male ones. Even Helaena, who Jacaerys knew had been described to him as closed off and quiet, was a beta.

Jace's jaw clenched, his chest tightening at the realization that he was expected. Everyone surrounding him seemed giddy, even though it was him who had to go and act on his duties. With a deep inhale, he stood. His hands folded at his front, and his posture straightened. His uncle -- his betrothed -- awaited him in the gardens.

And wait, Aemond did.

With a growl, he hastily paced the corridor. Fidgeting with his leather gloves, straightening his clothing a score of times before fixating on how his nephew may not like his natural hair, and how he had wished he ironed it before their little date.

The situation was juvenile and obsolete in the grand scheme of things. They were going to be married, which meant seeing one another to their dying days. But this step was a rather large one, considering the only thing he knows about his fiancé was that he had long dark locks, and he was an omega.

But all was quiet when he heard the whispering click of flats against the marbled floors. Stepping with measured grace, he could tell just by the sound. It was a steady rhythm, almost hypnotic in its wake.

Jacaerys turned the corner and hardly gave Aemond a second glance. His pace remained in that gentle beat, the maid behind him scurrying to keep up as she carried miscellaneous items for other tasks she bared.

The first thing Aemond had taken great notice of was the incredibly strong stench of citrus and sugar. There was a dash of that baser need, but that was something Aemond had grown well acquainted with.

Then, it was that perfectly pink dress. Shimmering in shades of gold and peach, like glitter on a silk ocean. It contoured his shapely form better than any omega he's ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on.

His hair was quick to snag his attention. Just as the rumors described; elegant and put together.

The second thing he took notice of was the pale, milky color Jacaerys' skin had taken the shade of. He was so fair in tone, he nearly looked kissed by the moonlight itself.

What had truly held Aemond captive, however, was Jace's eyes. They were harsh, despite the posh exterior that had been put on. His emotions swirled in them like angry hurricanes, begging to be seen and acknowledged.

The mere image Jace had been spiked something in Aemond. Something new, something grotesque. A need so animalistic and baser, he hardly recognized it as himself.

But instead of acting upon it, his lips curled upwards in a hospitable smile. The glimmer in his violet eyes remained. Because, in spite of darker things brewing in his gut, Jace was still a beautiful sight to behold. Any alpha would be beaming at the opportunity Aemond held.

As Jace approached, Aemond held a charming hand out. Tilting his head slightly, quirking a brow as if to ask him silently to take his arm. When Jace followed without question, the words "my dearest" left Aemond's lips before he could help it.

𓆣

Aemond had been stroking Jace's cheek when the boy roused from sleep. Gently petting his prey, half naked and holding the silky pink dress that had been clad to Jace's body in the boys last memory. He recalled the awkward small talk, and the rest they took to nurse on a glass or two of wine. What exactly had he been doing in...

Jace's eyes fluttered open fully, taking in the expanse of the room around him. Within the stuttered moment, his gaze was blowing out wide in shock. When he went to move from his awkward sitting position, he found himself bound to the chair.

These weren't his chambers. No, this space was far too large to be anything but Aemond's bedroom. Why was he here? Better yet, how did he get here?

Aemond simpered, chuckling nervously as he drew his hand down Jace's bare chest. His hand trembled as he palmed the flatness of the boy's breasts, a shaky breath leaving his lips.

"Aemond?" Jace inquired softly, obviously nervous at what exactly the future entailed. He was extremely puzzled by his state of bondage. "What is the meaning of this, uncle?" He huffed, shrinking away from Aemond's touch.

Within the second, Jace's senses seemed to broaden. Suddenly, the potent odor of an alpha's libido mixed with cedar wood and rain nearly suffocated Jace. His jaw went slack at the scent, his body instinctively buckling at the dominance displayed. Aemond was pressing harshly into him by then, desperate to present himself as a worthy mate to Jace.

Then, the rich aroma of slick stuffed his nose after. It was then when Jace fully processed his state of nudity, nearly wailing at the humiliation. He was stronger than this; stronger than whatever complex rope constraint he had been caught in. He was still lost as to why he was here!

They were to be wed. There was no meaning for this twisted debauchery.

What had been worse was that his body was arching towards Aemond. Like he needed an alpha more than his safety right now... what the hell was wrong with him? Why couldn't he get a grip on himself?!

Vehemently, he tugged at the knots around his wrists. Thrashing, grinding his teeth as he clawed at the ornate wood of the chair's legs.

Aemond only smiled wider, seeming almost in a frenzy of need. "Shh," he hushed gently, pressing a harsh thumb to the plump rosebud of Jace's lips. "You're exactly where you need to be, with your king in his bedchambers..." his uncle nearly growled. It had been simply scary, nothing more nor less. Though, Jace couldn't deny how enticing his mannerisms had been.

He moved languidly; in a roll of muscles, crashing down onto Jace any time he dipped to interact.

"I just can't get enough of the picture you make like this." Aemond croaked, dragging his hand down to the small cock that nestled between Jace's thighs.

Ah, and even after all of this time, Jace supposed his cock gave away his omega all along. Even before presenting, it had been slight. Pathetic, most alphas would describe.

But now, as his uncle grinded the heel of his palm against the strange erection forming there, the last thing he was concerned with was its size.

Hotness struck Jace like a physical blow. The experience had been like boiling water sliding down his throat and into his belly, settling into his loins and causing them to ache. He let out a strangled cry, dew beading on his brow. Jace huffed. "Aemond, what's happening?" He begged, fingers grasping at empty air. There was no grounding, no safety in this new space. His first night in the Red Keep, and he was already helplessly tied down. Of course, Aemond only snickered with that wild grin spreading upon his features, like he had accomplished something with significant success.

"The Maester tells naught lie," he began, wrapping his calloused and nimble fingers around the base of Jace's cock. "The correct combination of herbs is enough to induce a heat."

Jace gaped in horror, before whimpering at the spike of pleasure coursing through his veins. It was fervent, worse than any heat he had ever endured. His blood clawed at his flesh, expanding and shrinking with every drum of his heartbeat. The ropes were hardly necessary at this point, for Jace lacked all control of his body. Aemond's jaw flexed, that gleam in his eyes seeming to be all but wicked now. He watched closely as he assaulted Jacaerys' cock, his gaze dark and attentive. "You're making a mess of my hand, pretty wife." Aemond cooed, carefully observing Jace's reaction to his words.

Jace simply crooned, gasping out in hopes to regain some semblance of control. All he found was the face of his uncle, with an expression twisted by dark delight. It spurred his climax on impossibly quicker.

He came dry, as many omegas did. Smothered in his alphas scent, petrified that the fact that his first time coming by someone else's hand had been entirely unwillingly and somehow far more enjoyable than he had ever imagined it being.

"Aemond--" He began, brows furrowed in distress as his uncle began to frantically untie him from the chair. Jace was dazed, woozy from the orgasm and the lingering heat that still raged in his bowels. But his mind had been active, still flickering with defiance that searched for opportunities like hounds on a hunt. As Aemond undoing the last knot of his leg, Jace remained seemingly delirious. Slurring his words while gazing upon the older man.

It was only when the last, coarse rope had fallen to the ground when Jace bolted for the door. He stumbled on his feet, clambering at the lock when he finally made it. Only, Aemond had been faster than Jace's flailing hands. A mere breath passed before Aemond was behind Jace, wrapping a strong arm around his front and hauling him to the bed.

Jace squealed at being thrown down on the plush duvet, hands immediately scrounging up bunched of fabric so he could effectively scramble to the headboard. He heaved, that scent that clung to Aemond making his body go slightly slack. Fighting became impossible once more as Aemond crawled to the apex of the bed. Grabbing Jace's ankles, he tugged the boy's pelvis to his groin.

Aemond found little trouble in shoving Jace down onto his back. Jace crumbled easily, moaning quietly when he felt Aemond's hands near the shared heat of their sex's, undoing the strings of his trousers lazily. Aemond's head lolled to the side as he pulled his cock from the confines of his breeches. He hummed lowly at the comparison of his cock to Jace's, in awe at how lovely his little wife looked.

Without much thought, Aemond hauled Jace's legs up to his shoulders. The boy's ankles found his shoulders, propping up comfortably with little fight. As Jace did this, Aemond took the opportunity to drag the head of his cock in between the exposed cleave of Jace's ass. He coated his tip in slick, groaning at the burning sensation kissing his genitals.

There was hardly an instant before Aemond was pressing into Jace. The pair of them threw their heads back at the bolts of ecstasy that suddenly jolted through them, animalistic desires being prodded at and teased just enough to spur on a thunder of thrust.

All Jace could do was lay there and take it, slipping in and out of a drunken haze of rapture and the reality of the situation.

His uncle, his betrothed, was fucking him on the very night they had met. Morale melted with the white hotness that blurred at the edges of Jace's vision. He would deal with the guilt later. For now, he would lay under his king and relish in the abuse of his womb.

After a few beats of their hips meeting, Aemond moaned and came with no warning.

Jace laid their unceremoniously. A used sex toy, limp and nearly lifeless. Aemond jerked him off until Jace eventually climbed to the height of his second orgasm.

In that moment, everything had been simple.

[jacemondeater]

Barracuda

OCTOBER 24 --- JACEMOND WEEK , 2025 :: FREE CHOICE

theyre so in love

CW ::

ahh nothing

"Would you stop with that shit?"

Jace complained, taking a long hit off of one of Aemond's cigarettes; clad in nothing but an old, tattered band tee and some stretched out laced panties. His grown-out locks were a matted mess atop his head, strung down his back like a woman's.

There was a certain feminine energy to Jacaerys that drew Aemond in. Perhaps it had been his lips, or the way he carried himself... or even something as simple as his clothing. No matter, he was bitched into submission by the enigmatic energy that radiated off of him like some distinct odor.

With a grumble, Aemond reluctantly bend down to unplug the chord that attached his amplifier to his electric guitar. A fiesta red Jagstang with a pearly pickguard, his prized possession he managed to snag from a rundown, local music store. The amp screeched for a short moment, before buzzing lowly at the lack of sound transmission. It was a challenge to find time to practice for gigs with Jace around. He hated the constant guitar playing -- drove him half insane. Though, he had been kind a good portion of time, simmering himself because it was Aemond's flat they resided in.

But nowadays, Aemond knew his place around Jace.

"Sorry, baby." Aemond breathed, hanging up his instrument on its designated mount on the wall with the chord still hanging from it. He hardly bothered with things like that.

Jace sniffled, sprawling onto the couch at the silence. He was an image of debauched, whorish desire. Mascara smeared under his eyes as evidence of a breakdown he had the night prior, while the cracks of his chapped lips held memory of cheap red lipstick.

The show last night was incredible. People of all kinds showing up to watch The Green Boys wretch into mics and play lousily for hours on end had always been somewhat enjoyable, but the disaster that ensued had only spurred the band to play harder and longer.

Of course, Jacaerys added his own element. Singing up there for only a couple of songs, in spite of being the best live vocalist Aemond ever had the pleasure of playing with. If he wasn't on stage grinding on his self-proclaimed "boyfriend" (Aemond couldn't exactly be sure they were serious or not), he was lounging around at the bar or dancing with the rest of the audience.

Well, Aemond supposed he was encouragement for him to try. For Aemond to brush his teeth in the morning or paint his nails. Nearly everything to do with his recent life was somehow related to the boy that was currently smoking his 3-dollar cigarettes like they could afford it and melting on his couch at this very moment.

Right. Aemond couldn't exactly locate where this infatuation was born from. Hell, he didn't even know where it had been conceived. All he remembered was Jacaerys showing up in his bed one night and refusing to leave.

Jace groaned at the sight of Aemond's ratty locks, despite his own being gnarled and tangled. "Brush your hair." He commanded softly, like a disapproving mother.

Aemond scoffed, eyeing the discarded state that Jace had been in.

"Real rich coming from you." He chuckled, raising a brow at the smaller man's lazing.

Jace only arched a brow, smacking his lips slightly as he adjusted so he could properly scrutinize the infamous Aemond. "We need to re-dye it soon here." He mumbled half-heartedly under his breath, all to obsessed with the idea of having an albino rockstar as his plaything. Of course, Aem had been reluctant to allow the entirety of his true palate to draw through. The man had few boundaries, and infringing on his choice of cope against insecurities had been something he didn't dance around about.

So, Jace did the best he could to be supportive (sometimes). If he could run every other part of the man dry, he might as well let the confident parts of him thrive.

But it was difficult to watch.

Aemond ran another hand through his hair, suddenly conscious of the platinum color the grown-out roots gave off. He walked towards an old, full-length mirror that had been leaning heavily against the thrifted TV stand. It had been cracked, disfiguring the reflection of anyone who dared to gander at it.

If you ended up at a place like Aemond Targaryen's flat at the end of the night, you sure as hell didn't want to see what looked back at you in the mirror.

Aemond studied the man that seemed to judge him in the glass. His gaze hardened as he studied the upper part of his head. They had dyed it only a month or so ago...

"It looks fine, Aem." Jace mumbled, slouching to the side so he could spectate the way Aemond had assessed himself. The assurance had been genuine, but it never was enough to convince him. "We'll do it before the next gig." Aemond added simply, but that surge of insecurity rushed through him like a raging river stream. Jacaerys identified it immediately, and rose to his feet for the first time all late morn.

Aemond sauntered into their tiny kitchen, and reluctantly, Jace followed. A frown adorned his pretty face, clear proof that he had detected the darkness that hung on his previous words like venom.

"It looks good..." He murmured, pressing his body against Aemond's.

Their relationship hadn't exactly been the healthiest. Obviously, it hadn't. Jace controlled the lot of everything, and Aemond was convinced he deserved less than the abuse. In soft moments much like this, things always turned sour or sensual.

Aemond scoffed, sharply pushing Jace to the side. He wouldn't hear what he believed to be lies, especially from a man he was supposed to trust. Despite the shove, Jace persisted.

"Come on, don't be like that. You look so handsome with your natural hair." He chided, running a small hand up the sculpt of Aemond's toned back. With a short tut, he continued to prod at the idea. "I can already imagine you with a lighter look. It'd suit you-"

Without another word, Aemond pressed Jace into the sharp edge of the counter. Snarling slightly, asserting some kind of dominance that only existed in times where he had been truly hurting. Jace's eyes opened, a wild glint flashing through them. He had been ill. Mentally, of course. He loved being tossed and thrown and handled. Being in charge was a close second to that.

"Leave it be." Aemond commanded. Jace only puffed his chest.

"I won't let you be all edgy over something as simple as your natural hair."

Aemond glowered, pushing harder.

"Don't get all sappy. I'll look more like a freak than I already am."

Jace let out a quiet grunt that had been similar to a pup's growl. Endearing, but cause for discipline. Though, Aemond doesn't discipline petulant puppies. He plays with a lack of vigilance.

"Oh, shut up with your closed-off bullshit. You whine for my cunt." Jace snarked, which caught Aemond off guard with ease.

Within the minute -- no, the moment -- Jace had been creased at the gut like an old shoe. Bent over the counter, laughing as Aemond found the sticky remnants of their bliss from the night prior. They were animals. Fur on their arms and heads, stubble on their genitals where they shaved just for each other. There was no hiding from seduction, let alone survival.

Aemond smeared his tip against Jace's folds, moaning low and easy. He was half-hard, unprepared to fuck such a sweet little hole. Though, the mere thought made his length grow and his brows furrow.

The pair had been young yet, their libidos raging hotter than any bonfire they've ever haunted about. And the heat between Jace's thighs had been enough to make any man shudder. Aemond winced at the searing pleasure that kissed the tip of his cock and bolted through his body, his breath moving through the tight gaps of his teeth. Jace only taunted him, pushing his ass back into Aemond before wiggling it in short, tantalizing motions.

Aemond's knees practically buckled under him, the sight of his imp being as evil as he so expected him to be. He realized now, in the sweltering heat of the moment, why Jace always somehow prevailed in dominance.

It didn't matter how hard he was fucked, nor the sweetness or harshness the words. Jacaerys wasn't surviving like Aemond. No, he was living. He pressed the limits of what was and wasn't permitted to him, and it landed him a place next to the hottest rock star in town.

Aemond let out a guttural groan as Jace's hole stretched around the beginning of his erection. Jacaerys bit his lip, his eyes half lidded and molten in the stale light of their pathetic excuse of a kitchen. Under this light, Aemond could see every flaw. Every ingrown hair, every scar and mole. It somehow made his blood rush even quicker.

"Shit." Jace whined, huffing as he pushed himself further onto Aemond's cock. His body gave at the middle, his arms crumpling at the weight of promised bliss. "Fuck, Aemond do something-" he demanded softly. To which, Aemond obediently grabbed the fat of Jace's hips and began to roll into his clenching heat with as much force as he could muster in the moment.

It was desperate, and pitiful to watch.

It turned Jace on.

"Mh, that's it, Aem." He praised, before letting a low, drawling moan pass his parted lips. Aemond could only manage little grunts, coming sharply with every buck of his hips. Violet eyes fixated on Jace's ass and face, seeming almost in awe at the brunette's existence. Like he couldn't believe that Jace was still present, and still sexually active with him. Like he was the lucky one.

Jace growled, that smile returning to his lips as Aemond's cries climbed higher in pitch. Jace rose from his slack state, his back now sloped to lean on Aemond's front. Aemond adjusted accordingly, fucking up into Jace instead of directly towards his womb. The new angle caught a sweet spot in Jacaerys, which only made him clutch Aemond's cock like a silken vice.

Aemond gasped, one of his hands loosing from Jace's haunches to paw at his chest.

"Oh shit, baby-"

"Not yet." Jace spoke, his tone nearly threatening as he reached back for Aem's neck. Jace's words gave the older man a pause, breaking him from the drunken stupor that had been their shared desire. A hum passed from Jacaerys, the sound coming from his stomach. His ass bounced the best he could manage while standing in hopes to edge a little more pleasure out of the position without spilling his companion over the edge.

The action didn't last more than 15 seconds, though it was enough time to make Aemond pliant and sluggish. Jace laughed, pulling off of him and directing him to the patchy sofa that the pair had slept on the night prior.

Aemond let himself be pushed onto the cushions. He allowed Jace to straddle his hips, his fingers reaching up Jace's shirt in search of the pink buds that were the brunette's nipples without much thought. Everything felt like autopilot. This was Jace's rodeo, Aemond was just along for the ride.

Jace grinded the exposed pearl of his clit against Aemond's pubic hair. His rosebud lips tightened into a soft 'O', the stimulation clearly enjoyable.

Aemond heaved a breath from his chest, one of his hands falling in search of Jace's clit. No longer wanton for the pretty pink of the younger man's nipples, oh no. Now, he pressed the rough, calloused pad of his thumb to the most sensitive place on Jace's body.

"Let me fuck you." Aemond sighed, dazed at the utter depravity that captivated his every whim.

Jace tilted his head, his tongue peeking out to lap at his dried lips.

"You know who does the fucking." He smiled softly, before rising to the peak of his stance on two knees, and lining Aemond up with his pussy once more. Aemond threw his head back, the anticipation of the climax that rapidly approached him nearly making him want to sob.

He began to rub soft circles about Jace's clit, encouraging the younger man to fall on his cock with little fight.

The sensation had been enough to draw an orgasm from Jace, the bitter whiteness of it hitting him in an unexpectant wave. At the sudden grip that held Aemond's cock, the man's hips harshly fucked up on their own accord. After a few thrusts, his seed was spilling into Jace.

"Fuck." Jace sighed, glancing to the end table in hopes to find some Plan B.

[jacemondweek25]

20 - 26 October! 🕯️

More information to follow...

[jacemondeater]

When You Move (I'm Moved)

OCT 20 --- JACEMOND WEEK , 2025 :: HORROR

jacemond , but the night king pays a visit to westeros a century and a half early and wins because of it.

I haven't written something remotely substantial that had any kind of end in literal YEARS. forgive me if my writing remains slightly soulless, I'm still figuring out how to locate and convey character emotions. also the whole horror part of this is lowkey missing, but shhhhhhhhhh. a very quick read, i think its quite cute imho.

max my lovely beta reader ♡

CW ::

kidnapping

dubcon

elements of very mild horror

targcest

some degrading... negl

a song to listen to as you read.

𝔍ace's joints were stiff when he had woken to the grunts of Aemond next to him. Frozen wind beat against their leather tent, the piles of furs and shared warmth had hardly nearing enough to keep them alive; let alone even slightly comfortable. A brisk draft passed through the loose flap, causing Jace to stifle a guttural noise of utter dissatisfaction. Staticky shivers crawled down his spine, his body unconsciously shifting closer to Aemond in hopes of seeking better warmth.

The long night had started moons ago, by now. Their track of time had been the last thing on their minds, lost to the frosty weather and gray midday sky. Given their dwindling food sources and hopes for the future of Westeros, they had a right to keep their priorities elsewhere. Even if the notion of living with one of the usurpers that stole his mother's throne had made Jace's empty stomach churn at first, he hadn't much of another option. And, by now, it wasn't as if the boy had despised Aemond, either. After plenty of tense moments huddled close around a struggling inferno, it was easy for him to come to a conclusion that eased his fraying nerves.

Aemond wasn't a bad man -- necessarily. He did what it took to survive, and, at the time, it had been supporting the actions of his thief brother, Aegon.

However, his tolerance didn't mean forgiveness for the death of Lucerys. Or forgiveness for tearing him from his family, having aspirations of gaining some ground over them while everyone fixated on the dead army marching south, when in reality it had simply left them stranded in some forest of the southern lands. Crowns didn't compete with nature. Even if Vhagar stuck around, she didn't provide much for warmth, let alone scrounge any kind of sustenance for the pair in the dead of winter for their collective survival.

You do what it takes to survive.

Jace did his best to move impossibly closer to his uncle without completely rousing the man. Despite any kind of audible gurgle, the gauntness of his stomach had been easy to ignore. The lack of warmth, however, had been a harsher journey. Days were difficult, nights were harder. Trying to find solace in the body of another, under layers and layers of furs in attempt to keep them warm when really all it had done was prevent skin to skin contact.

Aemond scrunched his nose as he tugged Jace closer, making Jace jolt with surprise. He stared at his companion with wide eyes, startled by the lack of care a groggy Aemond had for refinement. It was kill or be killed out here.

Jace should know better than to assume his uncle would let something like hypothermia be their shared demise.

That was Aemond's first thought, when feeling his nephew go rigid in his arms. He had been hardly awake, evidently muzzy from a fitful sleep that befell him only a few hours prior. Now irritated: of course Jacaerys Velaryon would be petty about surviving.

"Sleep." Aemond commanded lazily, making a restless Jace nearly fall apart at the seams. Pressing his eyes shut, Jace clenched his jaw so hard his molars nearly ached. His cheeks burned with flush.

Morning came with a shrewd breath of wind under their furs.

Aemond woke first. The sound of loud, strained gasps and growls piercing sharply through the silence of their camp. Drawing a slow -- and frankly annoyed -- breath in, he moved to slip from Jace's limp arms. All the man can really think about is how desperately he wants a glass of wine. It was an abnormal craving, given how little he drank. But he needed something to take the edge off of his days, which always somehow concluded with him pulling his in nephew like he had been some kind of desperate hound with a reluctant bitch. It scattered his thoughts to no end, in spite of knowing it had been his own actions that spurred this nonsense on in the first place.

He had gotten cocky; believed he could basically cradle rob his half-sister, Rhaenyra, and swiftly get some kind of debt collection after dragging her missing boy about the woods for a score of days.

Now, he realized that even with dragons, this journey was beyond the point of an incredible challenge.

Aemond stood, glancing back to the sleeping Jace with a slack eye. The boy slept like a bear during a blizzard. Someone could be screaming for aid, and he'd remain drifting in his dreams. A product of living in Dragonstone where he had been coddled with the silence, Aemond supposed.

But there hadn't been much to defend, much to fear.

Aemond held little fear of the dead army.

Now strung out across be better portion of the continent, most of them had stalked toward areas with heady numbered populous. Aemond and Jace had been two, and they were miles out from King's Road. As long as they remained far from large groups for the time being, only a few walkers disturbed their camp and posed any variation of real threat.

They always seemed to come at the crest of dawn, Aemond has noticed. Much like this morrow.

Unsheathing his sword, Aemond didn't take the time to get dressed and cleaned up with his day furs or strap on his eyepatch. Grumbling curses to himself as he stepped from the fleeting warmth of the tent, he immediately had been met with the slobbering jaws of a hobbling dead man.

Moaning in disgust at the smell, Aemond easily cut the creature down. His lips curled at the sight, eyes still drowsy from the early hour. Jace, that privileged little bastard, hadn't even come within 5 paces of a walker. Aemond had been responsible for all of the dirty work, while he stayed warming at the fire as he mended furs together. He was lucky Aemond was cautious with his captives and controlled their arsenal, providing nothing of weaponry. If he hadn't, Jace would be out in the woods just as much as he.

And as much as Aemond hated to admit, it had been entirely his fault they were here in the first place. It wouldn't be dutiful. Along with that, he needed Jace as a peace offering; pray tell what the future may bring.

The day forward began as it usually did.

Aemond gently trying to coax Jace out of slumber as he got ready for the day, talking to him as if he had enough of a conscious mind to understand.

Watching as his doe-ish eyes drooped with exhaustion as if he doesn't spend a good amount of his days simply sitting and keeping warm.

He learned rather quick to be patient with morning Jace.

"Come on, Jace." Aemond mumbled, braiding his pale locks with deft fingers. "The sun is up; you should be as well." His tone had been cold, but soft. As if he hated having to speak to him like a child, but he knew there was no other way to get his petulant nephew to wake.

Swallowing down a vexed quip, Aemond's eye found Jace. Lounging on the makeshift bedding, yawning like a kitten without worry. At the sight, something weighty settled in his chest. Making it ache, squeezing his heart slightly. He had recalled a time where Jace had been a babe. He, just a boy. His little yawns hadn't much differed from then and now.

Too sentimental.

"Let's go, Jacaerys." Aemond finally ordered, tying the tangled braid off with its usual leather knot. Striding out of the tent with a sudden edge to his tone, Jace had lifted his head rather quickly.

Night fell suspiciously quick. Too quick, for Aemond. He had only managed a couple of rabbits for tonight's supper, his hands carefully stripping the pelts and tossing them toward Jace. A soft hum left the boys lips in acknowledgement; his brows knitted together in a state of concentration as he performed his usual sewing routine.

Aemond cooked and hunted, Jacaerys continued on his endless blanket. Except tonight, the garment had remained in the tent.

"What are you mending?" Aemond probed absentmindedly, his mood obviously improved from the morning. Jace shifted under the sudden scrutiny, straightening ever so slightly as he examined his work. "A fur cap." The boy replied, low and clear. There was a certain rawness to his words, like he had been embarrassed for even attempting to create something aside from his vast, fur quilt.

"A cap for... for your hunts." Jace continued, his voice disintegrating as he resumed his sewing. Aemond's focus faltered.

Aemond blinked up, evidently pausing his preparations of the evening's meal. His gaze shifted from his face to the hat, taking in the lousy handywork. Despite his distaste for any flavor of tenderness, he appreciated it.

Dinner had been quiet. It usually was, but the reason was clear tonight as to why not a word had been spared from either of them. Aemond had been busy stewing on the tightness of his chest, hoping the food would unwind the coil. Jace had been suddenly overthinking his kind gesture towards his ward. Aemond had killed his brother in cold blood. When the time comes, he'd kill him too.

Aemond chewed on his rabbit with a vacant look in his eyes. Jace stared without reason. Everything was pulled taut, and over what? A fur cap?

No. It was more than that.

The predatory glint to Aemond's eyes returned as he took a particularly large bite. His fixed look found Jace's, staring back with his intensity tenfold.

Finishing his meal far quicker than Jace, he leaned over and snatched the cap from the boy's side after tossing the mangled corpse he had been feasting on into the fire. Jace didn't argue. Hells, he hardly flinched. His gaze simply remained on Aemond.

He took a moment to observe the novice stitching. The pads of his fingers feeling the wiry fur Jace had selected, smoothing over the jagged spots as a hint of a slight smirk began on his lips. Finally, he had pulled the thing on to test it out. And, surprisingly, it had fit immaculately. Jace's gaze softened at the sight of Aemond with a hat he had made for him clad to his head. It had been snug, but comfortable. His estimations had been perfect.

A dash of pride began in his leering brown eyes. He couldn't hide it, even in those bottomless depths.

Aemond cleared his throat, his brows raising ever so slightly as he pulled the cap off. Pursing his lips, he gave an approving nod. "Fits nice." Was all he had said, before standing and walking away.

Jace wasn't fond of how quick his thoughts strayed from the inhumane deeds his uncle had done. Instead, silently beaming at the fact that his little hobby was finally being put to use.

Jace was quick to stand, after his uncle. He, too, tossed the rabbit into the crackling fire at his foot.

"Aemond-" Jace gasped, his hands palming at his side. Instinctual, in hopes to find his blade. His reap had been fruitless, of course. Aemond hadn't allowed Jace when he had taken him from Dragonstone to bring any kind of defense, and all of Aemond's weapons were on his person. It wasn't a surprise he found no purchase in his reach. Not only that, but he hadn't wielded a sword in many weeks, let alone sparred with anyone.

"Aemond!" He shouted, his eyes wide with terror.

A walker.

Slumping towards him, gargling down noises of insatiable starvation at the sight of Jace. He would run, but if he got lost, there wasn't a chance he'd survive even the night.

Suddenly, the thing lunged at him. Tackling the boy to the ground, his oozing fingernails immediately moved to claw at the plush skin of his face. Jace whimpered in fear, pressing his hands to the dead creature's chest with as much strength as he could muster. Jace bleated another call in hopes that it would reach Aemond's ears. He didn't have the strength to resist when he felt those grotesque fingers prod so hard at his cheeks the wounds began to trickle blood.

As the pain began to settle in his gut, Aemond had kicked the walker from his ward. Crashing on its side away from Jace, the boy crawled away from the danger. Shouting at Jace for one thing or another, easily slaying it with a single lash of his sword. The thing trembled as its fermented blood stained the white coating of the grass, croaking out a final choke before its limbs sunk in the snow.

Aemond hadn't a moment to think before he had dropped to his knees and attempted to examine Jace's face. Marred with the hands of infection, crescent shaped digs and a single long scar across his cheek. Aemond looked him over with bated breath, nostrils flaring as he silently thumbed over the marks. Jace could hardly comprehend the sharp shoots of pain as Aemond tried to rub away the blood, let alone the sequence of events that had just occurred. What had he been doing? How did he get in that situation in the first place?

Jace felt himself be pulled to Aemond's chest, before lifting up off the hard and icy snow. The man guided him to the tent before practically tossing him onto their bedspread.

"What the fuck were you thinking, huh?" Aemond bit, reaching for his day cloak to try and clean the wounds the best he could with their little resources. They couldn't stay from their fire during the night --- it had been far too dangerous to wander away. But this proved that everywhere at all times had been far too dangerous. At least, it did to Aemond.

"I-I shouted."

Jace began, but Aemond wasn't open to listen. He simply scrubbed out the grub from Jace's face, his expression contorted his features with a certain sense of anger.

"You should've been in the tent." He argued, though he had been far more fixated on assisting Jace.

"I was going-"

"YOU HADN'T BEEN QUICK ENOUGH!"

Aemond nearly roared, grabbing Jace's face with a newfound frustration for the boy's excuses. He could've been safe if he hadn't spared that extra second away from his watchful eye.

Jace stared up, looking ajar at the sudden fury. Batting those molten eyes, long and slow. It sent some sort of primal message.

Trust. Even as he shook, still buzzing with adrenaline from being attacked by something dead, he felt a twisted sort of safety in the hands of his uncle.

Jace's gaze stuttered, his lip drawing up slightly as he searched for his words. But Aemond insisted on the eye contact, that feeling of shared trust. It went beyond what was shared, beyond the nights awkwardly snuggled together in hopes to find warmth. This was Aemond's base instinct: protect and provide. And with each labored puff of breath Jace seemed to loosen from his lungs, that urging instinct seemed to grow stronger.

"Look at me."

Aemond directed, his voice silken yet still a touch upset. Something Jace had never heard before.

The boy complied with no fight, surprised at the ease a shift in Aemond's timbre brought him. Wide, brown eyes stared upward.

Pleading innocent, pleading helpless.

Aemond nearly folded.

It had merely been a brush of lips for a transient second. Shared breaths, Aemond's little grunts a nod to the fact that he knew better than to be acting on base impulse like this for another time. Then, his acceptance at the current circumstance.

Aemond's lips crashed with Jace's sloppily, but steadily. Breathing in the scent of one another, glowing in the erotic sensations of a taboo clash of tongues. Aemond was quick to press forward, some kind of starvation suddenly hitting his gut like it always had. It was as if he must prove to Jace that he was a fool to stray from him, even if it had been him to walk away. Like he must prove to Jace that without him, he was nothing out here.

That burn travelled low, settling with a searing heat that was enough to encourage any true man to finish what he had started.

It was clear in that moment, Jace still hadn't become accustomed to his uncle's ferocious ravage. Still in shock from nearly being eaten alive, unsure as to what exactly pricked at the base of his spine as Aemond dominated not only his mouth, but his entire sense of existence.

His mind quivered with the idea of being claimed by his uncle, a treasonous monster who had slain his brother only a year antecedent to this. It quivered with a craving he couldn't describe with plain language.

Though, it wasn't like this had been the first "accident".

Jace drew a breath in when Aemond had finally pulled away, his eyes glazed over with submission. "We can't do this again." He whispered, almost reluctantly. As if he were afraid of Aemond's reply, as if he feared what might lay in their future if they continued this brief misstep into a full tumble.

"Mmh." Aemond tilted his head slightly, braided hair brushing against Jace's nape. "Halfwit boy. You know better than to deviate so far." The man decided lowly, watching as Jace's gaze sporadically darted about his face. Searching for that shared hatred that never fizzled away, on a quest to find exactly what little restraint was left in the curve of his lips or the sparkle of his eye.

When he had come to no avail, Jace found himself in no position to deny.

Their mouths met again, dancing haphazardly as Aemond began to tug off Jace's furs. Unclasping his doublet with one hand, the other kept busy by tangling in the mess of curls atop his head. Jace practically vibrated with the onslaught of emotions violently swashing in his veins, whining broken and high at the feeling of the cold winter air against his chest.

Aemond's mouth traveled, finding his jaw in hopes to soothe away those crooked noises. He had been frustrated with him for getting attacked, yes --- but now, he had been far more focused on taking what he had wanted. "Shh." He hushed, smoothing his hand up the boy's chest as he kissed down. Cradling his head now, mouthing bites against his neck before making it to his clavicle.

Jace took the moment to gasp for air, breathe out his thoughts that swarmed his head like angry bees in their hive. How could he have let this happen anew? Belly up, baring himself to the Great Dragon of Westeros for another time, like he had been his own personal whore for the taking. Oh, but how that mouth made everything dissolve into a putty. Pliable, with slack arms that reached for the silver of his uncle's hair. When had Jace gotten so desperate for the man's touch?

Those questions were quickly snuffed out as Aemond pressed his palm against his growing erection, a sharp gasp from Jace splitting the silence. The boy glanced down, his eyes blown out. Aemond only cracked another serpentine smile, violet eyes half lidded and reflecting the yearn that he had tried so desperately to conceal. The heel of his palm ground against Jace's cock once more, only now holding a further aspiration.

Jace croaked out another raspy whimper, struggling against the man's hand. His body desperately wanted to chase the pleasure, but his pride had other ideas. Swallowing back an additional moan, he craned his neck in hopes to avoid the intensity of Aemond's gaze. Though, Aemond wasn't so easily deterred. Simply chuckling at his nephew's heightened dignity, as if it had been nothing but a silly little display of his own dominance. They both spent their days pretending like nothing had sprouted between them. When did that pollute the solace in finding pleasure in one another?

Aemond studied the writhing of Jace. How he squirmed at the softest press of his calloused hand against the shaft of his clothed erection, choking away strangled groans while biting his lip like his life had depended on the little action. "Come on, Jace." Aemond had purred, leaning down to breathe his words into the curve of Jace's shoulder. Pressing a chaste kiss on the milky skin, he let out a hum of approval when Jace had finally let out a proper wail of bubbling indulgence.

With another snicker, Aemond withdrew his hand from Jace's crotch, the confined space of his trousers keeping his member in place. Jace's body twisted at the lack of contact, watching silently as Aemond began unlacing the loose trousers clad to his hips. Jace's mind sung at the sight, biting his lip at the tantalizing nature of his own uncle.

Aemond grunted, finally tugging the garment down his hips to reveal the cock Jace has seen and admired an embarrassing number of times. It was thick, and dense. It was quite long, given the ample circumference that initially impressed Jace some time ago. Aemond arched his brow, taking great notice to Jace's inspection. The boy had done this nearly every time they bed.

"Lay. Flat, on your stomach." Aemond grumbled as he began to position himself on the heap of furs the pair had named their bedspread. Jace was quick to comply, adjusting to accommodate the stretch he knew was quick to come.

And, as he knew it would happen, Aemond had practically torn his breeches off. Allowing the waist of them to hug tightly at Jace's spread thighs, pushing the plumpness of his ass out just enough for it to be noticeable. An audible chuckle passes his lips another time, causing Jace to shudder. "Aemond." The boy spoke breathily, nearly begging with just the tone of his voice.

His uncle only continued to admire, taking two handfuls of the fatty cheeks. "Your arse is like a womans." He mentioned offhandedly, ignoring the painful ache of his prick or Jace's growing impatience. This only made Jace grind his teeth, holding back any kind of comment that may imply that he truly wanted this to happen. Of course, he had crooned out his uncle's name for the sake of speeding up the process. That's what he told himself, at least.

A scoff came, then the feeling of sticky spit falling onto his hole. The sensation had still been highly erotic for him, proof to his lacking experience with men. Aemond was first to take him, and Jace had sworn to himself that he'd be the last.

"Such a little whore." Aemond teased, rubbing his index over Jace's puckered entrance. Slimey saliva coated the finger, before it gently prodded inside of him. Jace's body hardened at the sensation, his smaller cock twitching like it had when Aemond had been palming him. Chewing further onto his bottom lip, he slowly leaned into the gentle push and pull of Aemond's slow fingering. Before he knew it, he had three fingers bullying and scissoring him open. Prepping had always been a courtesy Aemond granted. Jace had to remind himself that he could be taken without any kind of preparation, or any kind of hum of approval. As much as it gave him peace of mind to hold his pride close to his chest, it would be nothing short of horrifying if Aemond had ever legitimately raped him.

The fingers were out, come a strangled groan from Aemond.

Then, the head of his uncle's thick, weeping cock.

Aemond was patient man. As much as he let his temper get the better of him, that was only on the battlefield and when he had been under so much pressure anyone would be bound to blow. A lot of times, he took his time in bed.

Not tonight, obviously.

Jace let out a startled cry when Aemond forced himself to the hilt, his testicles brushing against the apex of Jace's taint. They both moaned at the surging feeling of relief that had relaxed their bones. It was warm, as much as cool air whisked its way through the loose flap of the tent or the poorly stitched seams that made up most of the leather. Their sweat, their huffs. It had all been so hot.

Grunting, Aemond set a punishing pace; slamming himself into Jace like he had deserved the sting. He had nearly gotten killed, after all. What was he supposed to fuck if he lost his nephew? Who was he supposed to sell, when the time come ripe?

"Ah, you like that bastard, don't you?" Aemond belted, his fingers finding Jace's hips and tightening around them. Jace's pain hastily melted into a gooey sense of pleasure, spewing over his minds rational thoughts that ran through every time they had found themselves indulging one another. Jace had never been all that talented at dirty talk, but it had been all too clear that Aemond could make any insult sound like a prayer.

'Yes', he wanted to whisper. A promise to his uncle, to himself. He enjoyed this. But admitting it meant losing. So, Jace simply moaned in reply, his cheeks puffing out as he tried to even the unsteady breaths escaping his lungs.

Aemond thew his head back when Jace tightened around his length, nearly snarling at just how purely sexy the boy looked under his will. His body had been made for fucking, Aemond had just happened to be the lucky one to find out. That meant being the lucky one to abuse his prostate until he came on his cock.

He enjoyed this rabbit-fucking, but he learned just a moon ago how to really make his nephew cum.

Jace let out a low noise of protest when Aemond's rapid beat of hips had come to a halt. Rolling his shoulders back, he craned his neck up to meet Aemond in the eyes.

And, as otherworldly as those violet eyes were, something about the depth of Jacaerys' had always made Aemond's heart stop. Beaming like the sun just by the shade they gleamed back at him, or the way they nearly changed colors in the light. The torches in the tent had made them absorb a fiery orange hue, swirling with the void that made up the rest of them.

Aemond buried himself as deep as he could reach inside of Jace, making the boy nearly jolt with shooting spikes of what had felt like rapture. The man wouldn't profess a feeling he had experienced in a flash during a moment like this, but his entire body seemed to float, seeing the way Jace shuttered. Rolling his pelvis against the bulk of Jace's ass, the brunette fisted the soft furs that lay under his malleable form. His lungs chuffed out a noise of utter delight; those pretty eyes glazing over with a kind of experience only Aemond could provide.

Another agonizing pause.

Then, a slow and measured thrust that hit the boy just right.

Without warning, or seemingly much awareness, Jace had climbed to the height of his climax. Howling like a bitch in heat, Jace's body trembled under Aemond's all while clutching his cock so tightly the man thought it might fall off.

Jace spilled onto his handmade blanket with tears at the edges of his eyes. He watched as the white faded from his vision, everything coming back into blurry view come little time.

Aemond still fucked him slow, but rough. It had been clear he was chasing his own climax while observing the tooth rotting sweetness of Jace's. Finally, with a rough thunder of thrusts, Aemond came inside of Jace.

The pair collapsed in on each other, the carefully crafted boundaries they held up just this morning crumbled down in their afterglow. Come next morning on the morrow, they'd be built right back up.

But tonight, Aemond can drag Jace into his arms without a glower or glare. He can babble quietly about histories without complaints, or kiss Jace's neck without awkwardness. He'd spoken about cleaning Jace's facial wounds come daylight, but the boy had already been out cold.

This was Aemond's personal version of the Seven's Heaven. Despite the cold, despite the dead army. In the middle of it all, it had been Jace and Aemond;

doing what it takes to survive.

[jacemondeater]

I'm a Twisted Fool

OCTOBER 21 --- JACEMOND WEEK , 2025 :: ACADEMIA

kinda dope professor aemond au idkkk

CW ::

underage sex

A shrewd gasp cut through the air of the classroom, Jace's fingers curling into the wood of Mr Targaryen's desk.

"You have six missing Valyrian assignments from me, Jacaerys." Aemond scowled, his hand smoothing over the bare skin of his nephew's ass. He gave his fatty rump another sharp smack, quirking a brow as Jace rocked his hips into his thigh.

Thornrech School of Troubled Boy's and Delinquent's had been a free-for-all to Jacaerys before Mr Targaryen had made a name for himself in classroom 144 of the west wing. Every day had been a drag ever since he chose to take an elective class taught by his uncle Aemond at the start of his second semester.

He supposed their childhood together never was a steady ride, though Jace had expected a little more respite when it came to the unwavering flow of papers Aemond seemed to give his students. Of course, his carefree attitude had gotten him bent over his uncle's lap. At this point, he knew better. Hell, at this point, he had done it on purpose.

"This is the third time this quarter you've had more than three papers not turned in at once," Aemond continued, before giving another slight spank. Jace flinched, his ass-cheeks stinging with a nameless pleasure that came with the burn of each slap. It was like lightning bolts were piercing through the flesh of his behind, creeping up the expanse of his back and shooting sparks through is mind.

Jacaerys could only twitch, nimble fingers clenched tautly in the slack of Mr Targaryen's pants. "I'm sorry, sir. I-I'll--" he began, only Aemond silenced him with another harsh spank.

"No more excuses, no more of these 'I will' statements."

Jace shivered at the edged tone of Aemond's voice, suddenly remembering a simpler time when their relationship had been wrestling for desserts and playing the prince and knight. Now, they were playing the petulant teenager and the young teacher. Except now, it hadn't been a game. It was discipline, it was Aemond's career. The punishment was far from fun. However, it had been electrifying, which was far more valuable to Jacaerys than the simple thrills that were once so easy for him to get away with.

Aemond's lips curled with silent delight at the sight of his nephew so debased. Gods forbid what his sister would say if she had seen her son in such a position given the unseemly circumstances. Well, it wasn't Aemond's fault that Jace skipped nearly every other day of class to sleep in his dormitory. Not to mention he practically ignored his plunging grade levels.

Jace's jaw clenched, having no more to say to Aemond. He was entirely at the mercy of his uncle, and there hadn't been any more to it. That is what was truly devastating.

Aemond's hand wrapped firmly around the left cleft of Jace's ass, causing Jacaerys to squirm and moan in discomfort. The callouses of Aemond's hands felt like twisted kisses against his hot, bruising skin. The pain mouthed at him, teasing him with each tender knead. Like he was waiting for the inevitable bite of the next clap of meat and muscle.

Of course, Aemond only chuckled darkly. Like a snake, venomous and cold with a slight hiss of breath squeezing between the space of his molars and tongue.

Jace couldn't exactly see his uncle's face, but he can visualize his expression clearly. Those thin, narrow lips curled up in that gnarly grin. His face, narrow and long, pushed upwards at the uncanny amusement he found in reprimanding Jacaerys.

And of course, those eyes. So crystalline and reflective, they nearly seemed violet. Especially in the dark lighting of his classroom -- especially in the throes of correction charged by wrath.

Jacaerys jumped slightly when he felt the pair of Aemond's hands spreading him, unaccustomed to the feeling. As he stirred to assess his current position, Aemond harshly elbowed him back down. "Vezof," Aemond breathed into Jace's ear. He knew this phrase well. Behave. Hot spit splattered against Jace's hole right after Aemond's growled demand, causing the younger man to squirm.

Of course, the pair had mostly remained fully clothed. At least Aemond had been.

Jace's tie had been long discarded, though. His button-up crumpled at the curve of his back, the length of his sleeves doubling due to how far the neckline had been shoved south. The black fabric of his slacks bunched at the crease of his bent knees; his briefs settled right on top of them.

"Kostilus, Aemond-" Jace begged, the ache of promised pleasure weighing heavily upon his weeping cock. Another spank was Aemond's response.

"Kesā gūrēñagon naejot obey nyke, nephew, lu iksā ready daor concern nyke."

You will learn to obey me, nephew, whether you are ready does not concern me.

Jace could hardly decipher the words. When he was younger, he was passionate about learning the histories of his ancestors. The language of old Valyria, an island once so lush with mythology and creations beyond it's time. Now, Valyria had been a ruin of volcanic rubbish. Still abandoned, even after a century of inhabitants.

Nowadays, Jace had better things to trouble himself with than some old language that somehow tied to his lineage. Though, the few words he did know were always exercised during his sessions with Aemond.

Cold fingers prodded against his entrance. Jace's body immediately went rigid, gasping out as if wheezing for air would save him from the misery of being patient. Aemond grumbled in response, rubbing slow circles over the tight ring of muscle. Those digits continued to abuse other parts of his body, his free hand tangling in the unruly locks of his long hair.

"Endure it, dārilaros." Ah, Jace's hair always remind Aemond of a princess. The name stuck, despite being given to him during the bliss of childhood. The syllables fell easily, dripping with poison as they slid off of Aemond's tongue.

When Jace had finally relaxed slightly, Aemond's middle finger was breaching his ass. With this slow action, Jace could only stiffen. His cock jerked to attention, only making Jace further dejected.

The fingering had been slow. A merciless assault of rhythmic thrusts of fingers with too much leisure. He had only really felt anything when he felt the knuckle of a second finger stretch his entrance further.

It didn't exactly sting. In fact, it felt quite nice to experience something other than the throb of his prick against his uncle's solid leg. Though, the relief was brief.

"Aemond." Jace huffed, lashes fluttering as he did his best to push back with the gentle rut of Aemond's fingers. He couldn't see straight, yet he was expected to articulate his needs in High Valyrian?

"Eh, ah," Jace began shaking his head slightly in hopes to gain a hold on his words. "U-Uncle, I... nyke beg ao," he attempted, struggling to find his needs in another tongue. He hadn't the knowledge.

He clenched his jaw once more, his hips grinding heavily against Aemond. "F-Fuck me -- fuck nyke, iksan begging ao!"

Aemond only tutted, pursing his lips.

"Qogralbar, my dārilaros." He sighed, his tone reading as disappointed. "If you are going to beg me to fuck you, then you must ask properly. Go on."

Jace whined, his fists balling impossibly tighter. "Qogralbar nyke, uncle, nyke jorrāelagon ao, kostilus iksan begging!"

Fuck me, uncle, I need you, please I'm begging!

Aemond congratulated Jace with a firm jab to his prostate. Along with it, Aemond tugged Jace's body back by the hair and began to bounce his thigh against Jace's cock. This was plenty enough to coax an orgasm from the boy.

Jacaerys' body vibrated with ecstasy, his eyes lolling to the back of his head as he melted into his climax.

By the time his vision began to pull him back to reality,

he quickly realized his uncle's cock was released from the confines of his pants and erect.

[jacemondeater]

first day of jacemond week just completed lord knows im ready to pounce on day two

[jacemondweek25]

guidelines for #jacemondweek2025 🖤