[…]Lady Jeyne Arryn, the Maiden of the Vale, died at Gulltown of a cold that had settled in her chest. Forty years of age, she perished in the Motherhouse of Maris on its stony island in the harbor of Gulltown, wrapped in the arms of Jessamyn Redfort, her “dear companion.” (Fire & Blood)
They told the story to one another on every anniversary of their first act of coupling. Some of the details would be spiritedly contested (no, it certainly did not happen that way, one would say, while the other would insist, of course it did, it most certainly did) or misremembered (a first kiss that lasted barely the space of two breaths became a long, lingering kiss that left them both gasping for air), but the essence of it remained the same, always.
The essence of their story, of their love and intimacy, of their bond and trust. Jeyne and Jessa. Jessa and Jeyne. The Maiden of the Vale and her more than just “dear companion.”
House of the Dragon: Lady Jeyne Arryn x Royce!reader
Rating: Explicit (MDNI)
WC: 1.4k
HOTD Masterlist
Tags/Warnings: PWP, WLW, oral, fingering, public sex, throne sex, nipple play, praise kink, no use of y/n, no physical description of reader given, no beta we die like Lysa Arryn falling through the moon door
A/n: I'm just here to spread my WLW agenda, and we love a canon lesbian. Jeyne is so hot. Hope my play on a Chappell Roan lyric is appreciated. ;) I have more ideas for her and Royce!reader baby girl. Comments, reblogs, and likes are appreciated.
Summary: The morning is spent in your lady's lap and between her legs.
Lady Jeyne drummed her fingers against the arm of the weirwood throne she sat upon, an amused smile tugging on her lips as you breezed in with your bronze cape billowing behind you.
"You are late," she accused, reaching her hand down to stroke the well-groomed white hound at her feet while the second one placed its head in her lap.
"Apologies, my lady," you cooed, standing before her and bowing your head. "I was delayed, I'm afraid. By that beastly dragon circling the skies. I feared it may pursue my filly."
"Excuses, excuses," Jeyne chided, clicking her tongue, "I abhor tardiness. Don't I, sweetling?" She cupped the second dog's muzzle and placed a soft kiss upon its wet nose.
She studied you with a stern gaze before beckoning you toward her with a crooked finger. Your boots echoed off the stones with each step you took until you knelt in front of her. Her hand slipped under your chin, tilting your gaze up at her. The crisp smell of air and earthen petrichor wafted from you, clinging to your riding leathers and braided hair.
"Reparations are due," she hummed with a mischievous glint in her amber eyes.
"Then allow me to gain my lady's favor," you grinned. The dogs shifted away, curling together at one end of the platform on top of a large, soft turquoise pillow.
With a simple snap of her fingers, she dismissed the guards, and the two of you were left alone. A cold breeze echoed through the chamber as you rolled Jeyne's blue velvet dress up her hips, revealing the silver hued stockings clinging to her lean calves. A thatch of downy soft dark curls clung to the apex of her thighs, which she slowly spread to reveal pink, glistening flesh. Your mouth instantly salivated, like a well trained dog recognizing a treat. Gently, you squeezed her calves before gliding your hands up her thighs and shifting your face closer to her cunt, breathing in her scent. A heady musk that was all her own. Part of you wished to roll around in it like a dog would in the grass.
You kissed her inner thighs before sliding your tongue over her folds, gently dipping between them. A soft moan fluttered from her lips, and she maneuvered one leg over your shoulder to open herself wider to you. Suddenly, you felt famished. You glided your nose through her slick folds, moving upward until you bumped against her swollen pearl, then gently rubbed your tip over the delicate bundle of nerves nestled beneath the small hood of skin. Then you pressed your mouth against her mons, gently kissing and suckling the flesh, your nose tangled in her dark curls.
"Oh, wicked girl, you tease me," she groaned, trembling against you, then tugged sharply on your braid.
"Forgive me for taking my time; I only wish for you to enjoy it," you purred against her flesh, the vibrations rolling through her and making her belly clench. Your teeth scraped against her inner thighs.
Eventually you ceased the teasing and focused on delving your tongue deep inside the familiar, welcoming crevice. The tang of her dancing agaisnt your tongue. Her hands gripped the branches curving out of the throne as she rocked against your mouth. She was getting closer. The hand wrapped around her left thigh traveled further up until two of your fingers dipped inside her while your mouth wrapped around her pearl. A synchronization of your fingers thrusting inside as your tongue traced gentle patterns over her delicate bud until her ambrosia flooded against you. You chased every drop, gathering them up eagerly until there was nothing left.
When you shifted back onto your knees, your arse pressing against the heels of your boots, you noted Jeyne's flushed cheeks and widened pupils that almost diluted her amber eyes into an inky abyss.
"I would ask if you enjoyed it, but the pleasure is evident on your face," you said smugly, swiping one sleeve over your glossy mouth.
"Hmm," she hummed, furling her fingers around one of the branched arms before standing, her dress toppling back into place around her ankles. "Your sharp tongue is better used in these situations." Reaching her hands down, she grasped yours and pulled you to stand before removing your cape, then drawing you into a heated kiss. Tongues tangling together. "Now, my sweetling, it is time for me to have you." One finger circled the bronze clasp of your riding coat in the shape of the Royce sigil.
She stripped you with an elegant ease until you stood completely bare before her, and your loosened hair spilled in waves down your shoulders. Her soft palm pressed between her thighs, those long, slender fingers stroking you and making your legs quiver. Wordlessly, she sat back on her throne and pulled you into her lap. Your back pressed against her chest, the soft velvet on her dress pleasantly caressing your skin. She pulled your thighs apart with her commanding touch and guided one of your feet to press against a ledge that one of the carved branches made. A shiver ran through you at how vulnerable and exposed you felt with your cunt on display in the marbled High Hall. Those velvety soft fingers stroked you once more between sinking inside. You gasped as your muscles clenched around her slender fingers.
"Mmm, my good girl," she whispered in your ear, steadily pumping her fingers in and out. Her praise curved around your spine like a velvet glove. It was never easily earned, yet she would heap it on you (after a thorough teasing and tongue-lashing) and her treasured dogs. It was obvious where her heart lay.
Her free hand stroked your belly, raking through the curls that clung to your damp skin before snaking her hand back up to cup your breast. A sharp pinch was given to the tender nub, making you groan, before she rolled it between the soft pads of her fingers. Her thumb grazed over your pearl before her fingers curved inside you, hitting a most pleasant spot. Your belly tightened and your toes curled under slightly, free from the confines of your boots. Her fingers inside you stilled while her thumb continued its motion until you were writhing in her lap. It didn't take much longer to reach your peak. She made you suck her fingers clean after. Your chest heaved while she stroked your cheek; one arm circled your waist and kept you close, with foreheads resting together. A few moments later, the soft moment was interrupted by the creak of the doors.
Jeyne responded quickly, wrapping you up in her silver cape to conceal your naked body. Not that you minded being exposed, but she didn't like men to lay eyes on what was hers. "What is the meaning of this intrusion?" she demanded of her guards.
"Apologies, my lady. It is the king consort," one of them informed him before the silver haired Targaryen prince came sauntering into the High Hall.
Jeyne sighed heavily and kissed your temple. "These Targaryens are the bane of my existence. How I wish to be rid of them," she whispered, nuzzling your cheek with her nose.
Daemon opened his mouth to speak, but fell silent when he took in the sight before him. You were certain not many could make the Rogue Prince go speechless. His perplexed look was quickly replaced with an arrogant smirk.
"Forgive my intrusion," he chuckled, amusement dripping in his voice.
"I should push you right through the Moon Door," Jeyne threatened.
"I do not think the queen…"
"I grow tired of the queen and her opinions. State your business," she said tersly. You squeezed her thigh beneath you. She ruled the Vale with her sternness and sharp tongue, but forgot sometimes when to tread carefully. Daemon would likely find an excuse to take her head if she crossed the line too much.
He raised a non-existent brow. "Does your companion wish to excuse herself?"
"She does not," you replied. "You interrupted, so you'll make do with my presence."
Jeyne nuzzled the back of your neck. Soon he departed with gold in hand after his speech.
"Like a beggar with a tin cup," she mused before pulling her cloak away from your body, revealing you to her eager eyes once more.
"How the dragon house has fallen," you purred, twisting around until you straddled her lap.
Her hands kneaded your arse while she kissed you. The rest of the morning was spent in the throes of passion on the weirwood throne until you were both spent and sweaty. In the aftermath, you shared a decadent lunch with her before watching, enthralled, as a prisoner was pushed through the Moon Door. You were almost certain that Jeyne imagined him to be Daemon Targaryen, judging by the gleeful look upon her face.
Well, that was a very disappointing first episode of House of the Dragon season 3.
I haven’t read the books, but I know enough to know where things were going. Ryan Condal, you are a disgrace for rushing things that shouldn’t have been rushed. KNOWING THERE’S ONLY GOING TO BE FOUR SEASONS.
Jace’s death held no weight for me personally because everything was done so incorrectly (either by things being omitted or otherwise).
"If theres one thing we can learn from vampires, it's that life is short but that's it's gift. Find beauty in the ephemeral and gratitude in what is not promised. And always invest in the people that want to see you blossom into your truest self, and hold that space for them in return" - Ali Louis Bourzgui
“And Claire?” Grace's voice was barely a whisper. "You're not a predator. You're not a monster. You're just a woman who loves another woman, and there's nothing wrong with that. No matter what the world says."
Taylor Swift talks to The NYT about how she came up with writing 'Elizabeth Taylor':
''I'm riding in the car with Travis, I go on and on and explaining to Travis why I love Elizabeth Taylor so much. 'She fought for artists' rights. She was exploited in so many ways, and yet she kept her humanity, she kept her humor. She kept her passion for life.' And I'm just going on and on and like 'her eyes were violet. Some people said they were blue, I think they were violet.' And we arrive, we get home, he gets out of the car and I'm just in my head, I'm like this intrusive melody of 'I'd cry my eyes violet, Elizabeth Taylor' and I'm just scrambling to open my record app on my phone.'
“‘Aren’t you afraid of my darkness, my dear?’ Hades asked with mischief in his eyes.
‘No,’ Persephone replied, ‘You haven’t even seen mine yet.’” — kfg
Copy, Moon Joy 🌘 @theseviolentdelights597 - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
