I Need A Nap

She knew it was wrong. At first at least. But one night after an exceptionally good dream she’d had of you creeping into her chambers in the middle of the night another thought crossed her mind. Perhaps you were the maiden, sent to the queen to be a comfort. After all, if the men could find their comfort in another’s arms what was the harm of Alicent learning another way to pray.

Despite her attempts to justify her thoughts Alicent made no attempts to lure you in. you were pure and innocent and just and virtuous and fucking beautiful down on your knees. Well, that’s what Alicent had been thinking about, hand between her thighs one night when a knock on the door shocked her.

She quickly tied her robe around her naked frame, making her way to the door. she opened it a crack at first but when she saw your face shinning up at her she quickly ushered you in. “Is everything alright?” she asked, motioning you to join her on her sofa.

“I’m sorry did I wake you your grace?” you asked, nervousness suddenly washing over you.

Your eyes were trained on the sofa, but you looked up to meet hers as her hand took yours in hers, “You need not worry. You are welcome here at any hour. Now tell me why is it you cannot sleep?”

“I was wondering,” you started, your eyes darting away as you searched for the words, “if I may ask you a question? Just its not the type of question that I am proud to have to ask,” you said, your eyes finally meeting hers again.

Her eyes squinted, looking at you with concern as she squeezed your hand, “You may ask me anything you wish,” she assured you, brushing the hair out of your face without a thought.

You felt your cheeks heat up at the contact, your mouth growing dry. “How does one handle improper thoughts?” you eventually managed to spit out, “even when I know they are wrong they will not leave my mind and I wonder. Does it make me as bad as my thoughts?” you said, your tongue rambling as soon as your mouth had opened.

Alison shuffled forward, prompting you to finally hush and look into her eyes, “We cannot control my thoughts though,” she said, trying to hide the intrigue in her voice, “it may help if I were to know what thoughts you were having,”

Her words made your throat close up and your eyes grow wide, “Are they thoughts of another?” she asked and after a moment you finally nodded yes. Alison felt her stomach flip as she continued, “is it the princes?” she heard the words before she could think but the fact you shook your head no made her sigh in relief, “Another man?” another no. Alicent paused a moment, her head tilting, “Are your thoughts of another woman?” she tentatively asked.

You paused for longer this time before nodding, “I can’t control them your grace. They come to me at all hours and this night in my sleep,”

“What kind of thoughts?” she cut you off and you felt your skin tingle.

“Impure thoughts,” you whispered, your innocent eyes darting around despite being alone making Alicent want you even more, “I’ve heard stories of women who enjoy others company. Like how man and wife are supposed to,”

“Did your higher septas tell you about these things?” Alicent asked and you shook your head no again, “another septa perhaps? Or a certain book?”

“No my lady but my thoughts, they cannot be okay surely?” you asked, your hands tightening on hers.

Alicent knew it was wrong to indulge these thoughts, to bring you down with her, but your lips were so close and looked softer than any man, “Why would the gods punish us for things that do not hurt another?” she whispered.

“Is it not wrong my queen? To covet another?”

“Only if they do not wish your thoughts,” she whispered back, “Tell me my sweet, who do you dream of?”

Your eyes flickered to the floor, your skin hotter than a fireplace as Alicent shuffled closer, her fingers lifting your chin gently, “You, your grace. I’m sorry I do not mean to cause offence I shall send myself back to the- “

“That won’t be necessary,” her words cut you off, her hand moving to cup your jaw, “Tell me something sweet septa. Why would the gods make something that feels so good a sin?”

“I don’t know,” you stuttered out, “My queen we shouldn’t,”

“But why?”

“Because it’s wrong,”

“According to who?” she asked, her breath fanning your face, “if you can quote me a scripture I shall stop. But I for one see no reason why we should not make the most of the gifts the gods give us,”

Her words sent shivers down your spine as you looked deep into her eyes, “Tell me to stop,” she said, her lips moving closer till they brushed against yours with each word, “and I will,” before you could respond you felt her lips crash onto yours and your own lips kissed back surprising you both.

Her hands moved to the nape of your neck, pulling you closer making you gasp giving her the ability to slip her tongue in. a rush went through Alicent and before you knew it, she’d pulled you over to straddle her lap, your dress bunching up showing your bare thighs.

You gasped when you felt her pull your head covering off but groaned when you felt her fingers rake through your hair. It was softer than she had thought. When she felt you whine into the kiss another rush ran through her as she pushed you off her and stood.

You sat back on the sofa, beginning to stutter out an apology when Alicent undid the knot of her robe. Your jaw slackened as she pushed the fabric from her shoulders, leaving her bare for your eyes to marvel at.

This time she moved to straddle your lap, her fingers moving to unlace the back of your septa dress. She pushed it down enough to reveal the tops of your collarbones. You whimpered as she kissed down your neck, her teeth grazing your collarbones as her hands groped your breasts over the fabric that covered them.

“Would you like to see what I was dreaming of little one?” she asked between the kisses she placed along your skin. All you could do was nod then watch in amazement as she dropped to her knees, her hands slipping under her dress.

You tried to stutter out a question, but you were soon hushed, “Relax little one. Trust me,” she said, kissing your knee as she pushed your skirt up your legs till you were bare to her. Alicent loved the way your eyes refused to meet hers as your skin grew red.

You felt her warm breath fan over your wet cunt. all the dreams you had had were becoming real but as she pressed a kiss to your clit you realised it felt better than you could have imagined. Far better than your own hand.

You gasped as Alicent began to lick strips up your cunt, devouring every morsel of you as her tongue hit places you did not know existed. You felt your stomach tightening and an unfamiliar feeling begin to spread through your body.

Your hand moved to push her away but Alicent wrapped her arms tightly around your thighs. When your peak hit you, a loud whine left your lips, “oh god,” you cried as you came undone on her tongue but Alicent was not ready to stop.

“You taste so sweet,” she mumbled against your core making you shiver. When you felt her fingers tease your hole your hips bucked, “such an eager student,” she praised, kissing your inner thigh.

When she pushed her fingers in slowly, she relished in the whines you let out and how your hips bucked against her hand. You moaned as she began to curl her fingers, hitting the spots even you struggled to find in the darkness of your room.

However, your body jerked when her lips wrapped around your sensitive bundle of nerves. “Your grace,” you panted, your hands gripping her hair as your head fell back against the chair. “I can’t please,”

“But you can,” she said, sending shivers up your spine as she left an open mouth kiss to your clit. As you felt her teeth graze the sensitive bud you couldn’t stop your legs tightening around her head as you came undone by her tongue a second time so far. Alicent could die happy like this she thought but she had no time for that now.

Not as she pulled herself to her feet and grabbed your hands, “What are you doing?” you asked, complying none the less as you stood in front of her.

“I’m not done with you yet my sweet. It is time for your dreams to become true,”

While sure you had your moments of being tolerable, sometimes even pleasant, to the giant they called your guard dog, right now was not one of them. Usually, he appreciated your sarcastic remarks to your younger brother Joffrey, agreeing with most of your snippy quips, however today it had led to a fight between you both.

This then led to you storming around the castle, with Sandor falling behind, then to a fight with your mother which Sandor had to listen to through a door despite being absolutely starving, then when he could finally go and eat you decided to go on a walk through the forest unannounced and he had to track you down and bring you back.

“Try not to get lost again princess,” Sandor said through gritted teeth, trying not to let his stomach grumble.

You rolled your eyes as you sat on your love seat in front of the fire. “I was never lost. You just couldn’t find me,”

Sandor rolled his eyes as he went to leave however Jamie fucking Lannister decided to stop him. “The queens requested for you to stay in this room and guard the princess,”

“What about my fucking break?” Sandor spat back, not having the same gentle voice as your uncle.

“Well, it will have to wait. There are Dornish ambassadors riding into court and we cannot risk her getting…lost again,” Jamie said, and you couldn’t help stifling a laugh making Sandor want to fling you out of a window. Jamie leaned in closer, whispering to Sandor and getting his slimy breath all over him, “Prince Oberyn is coming, and we cannot risk her sullying her reputation,” he said however only Sandor was able to hear him.

“But me staying in her room all night is fine?”

Jamie looked the hound up and down before putting on his most cunty smile, “Don’t worry. I don’t think anyone will question your activities. Goodnight Clegane, best behaviour princess,” Jamie called to you before leaving, the door slamming behind him.

Sandor Groaned as he began to strip off his cloak. Like fuck was he gonna be kitted up all night in this. “What did he whisper?” you asked, reaching over to grab a grape. Sandor couldn’t tell if the way you popped it in his mouth made him more hungry, horny, or fucking angry.

“Prince Oberyn is coming to court,” Sandor said as he tossed his cloak on a chair, “So I’ve to guard you all night so you don’t go falling in his bed,”

Most women would gasp or swoon or deny the accusation, but you just barked out a laugh. It was another one of your few redeeming qualities in Sandors eyes. “How much of a whore does he think I am?” you joked, picking up your wine.  Sandor stomped over to the table, snatching the wine from your grip before plopping down in a chair. “Hey!”

“Hay is for horses,” he grumbled, gulping down the wine, “You’ve been a fucking brat all day, the least you owe me is a drink,”

“My, my, swearing in front of a lady, a princess no less,” you tsked at him as Sandor began to unbuckle his armour, “Not very honourable of you ser,”

“I’m no ser,” he said, discarding the battered metal as he reached for the next piece, “And besides I’ve done far less honourable things to you than curse in front of you,” this was of course his favourite quality in his princess. Even when you annoyed him to his core you were still the best fuck he’s ever had. “Fuck you’ve said worse things than I have,”

“Like what?”

“You know what,” he chuckled, beginning to undo his breast plate which would leave him in just a shirt and trousers. “You and that dirty mouth of yours,” he said, thinking back to all the thoughts and whimpers you’d moaned in his ear.

He did his best not to meet your eyes as they travelled down his frame, “Watcha gonna do about it?” however sent a spark down his spine. Prince Oberyn was not the one they should be worried about sullying your reputation.

Sandor dropped the metal breast plate, ignoring the clatter in made as it hit the floor as he moved to stand in front of you. his hand gripped your jaw, easily holding your whole face as he made you look him in the eye, “Don’t test me princess. You’re already on thin fucking ice,”

“Why would I want to be on ice when I could be on your…” you said, eyes trailing down his frame with a fiery spark.

He growled as his lips smashed into yours for a brief kiss that knocked the air out of your lungs. He broke the kiss, pushing your frame back into the love seat making you gasp. Within seconds his boots were off, and his arm was around your waist, hosting you over his shoulder making you squeal. Your back hit the soft bed as you desperately tried to sit up, but he was already on top of you.

“How expensive is this dress?” he asked, his fingers trailing the neckline.

“Your annual salary,” you replied and gasped when a tear ripped through the air, “Sandor!” you gasped as the cold air washed over your bare chest, your nipples perking at the feeling.

He’d ripped it just enough to be able to pull it off your body without having to hassle with any ties or laces, “Please as if you wont just pout and get a new one,” he scoffed.

“I don’t pout!” you objected, now feeling more exposed under his hungry eyes.

Sandor laughed, his eyes moving from your tits back to your face, “All you do is pout princess. All fucking day,” he said, his hand cupping your jaw as his thumb tracked over your pouted lip, “And all day I’ve been having to look at these fucking lips,” he said, his thumb prying open your mouth so he could stick his thumb inside, pressing down on your tongue, “and think about how much better they’d look around my cock,”

His words sent a shiver down your spine that didn’t go unnoticed by Sandor. “Is someone excited?” he asked, his hand gripping your thigh before slipping between them. His fingers trailed up your slit and you felt his chest rumble as he chuckled, “So wet for me already,” he said, his smile dropping for a moment, “Suck,” he commanded.

Instantly you complied, sucking on his thumb and trying not to whine as he rubbed slow circles on your clit, “Good girl,” his head dipped, moving to kiss along your collar bones as his thumb slipped from your mouth. He rubbed the spit over your bottom lip before his hand moved to tilt your jaw up, giving him space to kiss softly up your neck.

You bit your lip, slight whimper escaping as he worked on your bundle of nerves. When his fingers slipped away you whined but gasped when you felt him push two in, “Cmon don’t act like you cant take it,” he chastised, nipping at your skin enough to make you gasp but never to leave a mark, “I’ve seen you take far bigger,” he said, grinding his bulge against your leg to emphasis what was to come.

His fingers began to curl slowly inside as his thumb rested over your clit. When you whined again, this time louder and enough to make his cock twitch in his trousers, he moved his other mouth to clamp over your mouth, “Quiet,” he grumbled, curling his fingers deeper making you moan against his hand, “You know the rules princess,”

You nodded, meeting his eyes for a moment before they shut as his fingers began to brush against a familiar spot. You could feel your peak soon arriving but when you felt him pull his fingers out not even his hand could fully cover the loud whine you made. “Gods you really are a desperate thing,” he chastised, his hands moving to squeeze your hips tightly.

Before you could protest, he’d flipped you on your stomach, hand coming down on your ass leaving a stinging slap. “Hey!” you whined only to be met with another slap.

“Behave,” he chastised, keeping one hand on your ass, fondling it as the other moved to push down his breeches, “Maybe if you behave I’ll let you finish around my cock,” he said, gripping it with one hand and with the other forcing you onto your knees, ass presented perfectly for him, “Bet you’d like that wouldn’t you? me fucking you silly like some whore,” he said, running his tip up and down your wet cunt making you whine.

Instead of responding you grabbed a pillow, moving to lay your face in it when Sandor suddenly grabbed your hair, “I asked you a fucking question,” he growled, his tip pushing in slightly as your back arched.

“Yes,” you stuttered out.

“Yes what?” he asked, pulling your hair tighter, pushing slightly further in.

“Yes, I want your cock please I need it,” you whined, your hips trying to move further back onto to be stopped by Sandor, “Please I’ll be good,”

Sandor let go of your hair, your body lurching forward as you fell back into the pillow, “Wonder when I’ve heard that before,” he grunted, his hands moving to squeeze the soft flesh of your ass refusing to push his tip any further in.

“I promise,” you whined, gripping at the pillow, “I’ll behave I promise I-fuck,” you whined as you felt his cock sink further in.

Sandor hissed as he felt your cunt squeeze around him as he pushed his way in till he felt himself fully inside. He left one more slap to your ass, smirking at the way you bit the pillow instead of protesting at the stinging slap, before he started to set a steady pace.

His thrusts were slow and precise at first, making your whole-body lurch forward as he fucked you and your fingers tightened in the sheets. He could hear the stifled whines you let out and reached forward to grab your hair once more, this time gentler as he turned your head till the pillow muffled your mouth. Before you could question him, you moaned into the fabric as his pace began to quicken.

His slow thrusts had turned into heavy pounds that shook your body and made a knot grow in your stomach. His spare hand moved to squeeze your hip one more time before slipping forward to rub fast circles onto your clit. His grunts and groans were like music to your ears as your legs began to quake but falling was not an option.

Sandor cursed at the way your cunt squeezed around his cock, sucking in breath as he screwed his eyes shut. Despite how hard it was for him not to finish right there he had a job to do. He bit his lip, opening his eyes to appreciate the sight beneath him.

He could hear your muffled moans through the pillow and felt the way your body jerked and squeezed around him. “Aw is my little princess gonna cum?” he teased, his thrusts growing harder, “does she deserve to cum around my cock?” he asked but your response was muffled. Sandor pulled your hair, lifting your mouth up from the pillow, “I asked you a question,”

“Please sir,” you moaned like music to his ears, “Fuck please let me please,” you begged.

“Do it then,” he grunted, shoving your face back into the pillow, “Cum around my cock like a good whore,” his words were all it took to push you over the edge as your peak crashed around you.

However, this was not going to make him stop. Instead, his thrusts became harder and less precise as he fucked you mercilessly chasing his high while you rode yours out with eyes rolled back into your skull. It didn’t take long for him to feel the familiar twitch and suddenly pull out. With only two more jerks his seed spilled across your ass as his eyes screwed shut. “Fuck,” he gasped once he felt he could breathe again. Gently he moved his arms to lay you down on the bed.

You were too busy catching your breath to notice him searching for something till you felt him running a damp cloth over your ass to clean you up. “Still think I’m a brat?” you asked, still trying to catch your breath.

“Fuck yes. But you’re my brat,”

The feeling he felt, it was stronger than hate. It twisted and turned in his stomach, deep and pitiful, crawling along his skin in a way that made him want to break something. And when his hand laid on top of your thigh, it couldn’t help but latch onto it, tightening around it till his knuckles grew white. It was only when you winced in the bed beside him did he release his hold, waking up from the trance he had lost himself in. 

Then he could hear it again, the voice that whispered just quiet enough for him to hear. That same voice that told him to do things he knew he shouldn’t do, things that a brother shouldn’t do to his little sister. 

“Touch her,” the voice told him and Aegon listened. 

His hand slid across your subtle skin, reaching underneath the baggy t-shirt you wore, lifting it up till it rests above your hips. 

Aegon couldn’t help the harsh breath he took when he noticed the thin white lace that covered your cunt. So sheet that he could practically see right through it, not that he hadn’t seen it before. 

His fingers trailed upwards, over the material lightly, as if he was contemplating his next steps. No that it mattered because there was that voice again. 

“You know you want to.” 

This time Aegon answered back, “Just for a little bit.”

All it took was that thought, it would only be for a second, a moment to feel what he yearned for a lifetime. His fingers slipped in through the waistband of your panties, slowly moving further down till the palm of his hand was resting against your cunt. It was so warm there, so inviting as your thighs parted for him in your sleep. 

In a different world, you and Aegon Targaryen probably wouldn’t have been friends. You were different. He was reckless and careless; you were cautious and calculated. 

If it weren’t for a minor run-in with the law, your paths wouldn’t have crossed at all. Lucky for him, the Targaryen family has a lot of connections. So when Aegon, at the ripe age of 16 decided to rob a liquor store, he was issued a slap on the wrist and community service. 

Which led him straight to you.

Working with you, to be more specific. You had needed a summer job for some much-needed extra cash, and Aegon needed someone to sign off on his community service hours. 

All the staff were your age, and you’d quickly bonded with everyone. Rhaena became one of your closest friends, along with Aegon. You’re not sure how exactly you became friends; most likely he told some tasteless joke you’d scolded him for which in return caused him to say something even raunchier just so you’d keep paying attention to him. 

Aegon Targaryen was nothing if not a negative attention seeker. You’d fallen into that dynamic rather quickly, Aegon poking you, you poking back. It was gentle, playful even. 

In the middle of that summer, after a drunken night at Danny Greyjoys, you’d received a text from Aegon long after the party ended. You’d introduced him to your friend Sara who you brought along, and he’d appeared to hit it off with her. 

Give me Sara’s number, he’d sent, she’s super cute.

You’d rolled your eyes, watching more bubbles appear on the screen.

But also I’ve kind of been in love with you since the beginning of the summer, he wrote. 

Your heart stopped. The bubbles came back—then disappeared. Then came back.

He didn’t send anything else. 

You never talked about it.

In fact, you and Aegon moved on like he’d never sent it. 

It was always hard to say goodbye to him at the end of the summer. While Rhaena and Sara joined you at the local high school, Aegon joined his siblings across the country at Dragonstone Academy. 

But even after Aegon completed his community service, he kept coming back each summer. It wasn’t like he needed the money, his family was well off. He just liked the job, liked the company of his friends. 

Liked you.

You’d dated a few coworkers on and off throughout the years. Cregan Stark, Will Tyrell. But Aegon you’d always seen as a friend. At least that’s what you told yourself. 

Even when you’d accepted your college placements; Aegon at Citadel University, you at Winterfell State, you’d always return to King’s Landing in the summer months. 

You’d always come back to each other. 

Always teetering the line between friends and something else. Holding hands, cuddling, laughing, and joking, but nothing further. 

Just friends. 

Then, months into your junior year of college, Aegon’s dad died. You’d known he was sick for a while, a horrible slow deteriorating sort of death. But it still felt sudden. Like, the family had known he was going to die for so long, they almost forgot. 

He’d been different this summer. More distant. Drinking more. You knew he was grieving still, even if the relationship with his father was strained. Relationships are complicated. And that was still his dad. 

You’d sat in his car one night after work, just talking. He’d been tapping on the steering wheel with one hand, the other near his mouth as he worried the skin around his thumb with his teeth. A nervous habit. 

“You know, you and Hel are the only ones I can talk to,” he’d admitted, referring to you and his sister, “No one else…no one else really understands.”

You’d taken his hand in yours, sitting in comfortable silence as the engine purred and the sky grew darker. 

“I love you, Egg,” you’d told him, as you always did. 

“I love you too,” he said back, the words falling easily from his lips. 

Aegon was due to head back to Citadel University early the following week as summer came to its inevitable end. You’d all be parting ways soon enough, heading back to your college campuses for your final year of school. It was this fact that led Danny Greyjoy to insist on going out for drinks after work. A little hole-in-the-wall pub with darts and pool tables.

“We can go back to mine later,” Aegon had insisted, as you’d ordered another round of drinks, “Mum’s out of town on business.”

“Won’t Aemond mind?” Danny asked.

“He’s visiting his girlfriend,” Aegon insisted, “C’mon let’s get fucked up! Summer’s almost over.”

Danny agreed, shrugging and finishing his drink. Aegon had always been a bit of a party boy, but since the death of his father, you’d noticed an uptick in his recreational substance use. Alcohol; sometimes something harder. He’d shown up to work a few times violently hungover, or perhaps still intoxicated. You really couldn’t tell. 

You worried about him. 

You head to the bathroom to freshen up, fixing your mascara in the mirror when the bathroom door swings open and Aegon pushes inside. He’s got a cheeky grin on his face as he digs in his pocket, pressing his back against the door. You narrow your eyes, attempting to move past him but he blocks your path. 

“Stop it you weirdo,” you joke, laughing at his antics.

“Take this with me, c’mon,” Aegon teases, revealing two nips from his pocket.

“I fucking hate Mcgillicuddy,” you tell him, scrunching your nose at the clear bottle with its bright green label.

“Pussy,” he goads, smiling showing all his perfect teeth. 

Your heart skips a beat, as usual, and you snatch the bottle from him. You narrow your eyes as you crack the seal, before holding it between your teeth as you tilt your head back. The menthol-flavored liquor burns a path down your throat and a feeling of warmth blooms in your chest. 

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, taking his own and mimicking your movement. 

You cough slightly, watching his Adam’s apple rise and fall as he swallows. He discards the empty bottle, reaching for yours. 

“You’re coming to the after-party, right?” he asks, his Cheshire grin still on his face. 

“I don’t know,” you tell him.

“C’mon,” he pleads, “It’s one of my last nights, I’ve barely spent any time with you.”

You smile slightly. Not a complete lie. Aegon spent the better half of the summer chasing Aliandra Martell like a lost puppy. They had a brief, passionate affair that fizzled out rather quickly as she returned to Sunspear the previous week. 

“And who’s fault is that?” you tease, “If you weren’t so preoccupied….”

Aegon lurches forward, grappling at your waist, tickling your side. You squeal, pulling yourself away from his grabbing hands, cheeks burning.  

“Fuck off,” he interrupts, looking at you with more intensity in his violet eyes, “Please come.”

Something in the air crackles between you. A new wave of energy.

“Alright,” you tell him, “For a little bit.”

“You bitch!” Rhaena screams, trampling you in a hug as you arrive at Aegon’s. 

She’s already had a few drinks; dirty Shirley Temples most likely. Rhaena has one hell of a sweet tooth. She smiles, her lips slightly tinged red from the grenadine. 

“I didn’t know you were coming, I thought you wanted to sleep,” she says, only slurring a few words. 

You hold onto her, giggling at her carefree state. Rhaena is usually so poised and collected. 

“Egg made me,” you tell her, “Where is the bastard?”

“Living room!” Rhaena giggles, “You look so cute!”

You glance down at your jeans shorts and the small black top you’d chosen. Going out top, Sara calls it. You’d gone home to change before heading over to the Targaryen-Hightower mansion. 

“Thanks, Rhae,” you tell her, as she places a sticky kiss on your cheek. 

Moving past some people, primarily acquaintances and other coworkers, you make your way into the living room. The music is blasting, people lounging on the couches and sitting on the floor playing some sort of drinking game. A table has been set up, and you spot Jace and Cregan engaged in a game of beer pong. Multicolored lights flash around the room bathing everyone in a kaleidoscope of colors. 

Aegon sits on the couch furthest across the room between two girls; a blonde and a brunette you don’t recognize. They’re curled into him, laughing at something he says. His eyes meet yours from across the room, lighting up as he recognizes you. You walk over, shaking your head at him. So broken up over Aliandra, it seems. You laugh, rolling your eyes before standing in front of him as he reaches for your hand.

He calls your name over the music as his fingers lace through yours. His eyes are red, you’d assumed he’d been drinking more since leaving the bar from the incoherence of his texts to you. Aegon was quite impatient as you went home to change, your phone dinging continuously from his texts. 

“You started without me?” you tease, and he tugs on your arm, pulling you closer. 

Aegon leans forward, pushing his back off of the couch. Your eyebrows cinch together as he pulls you closer, face nearing your own. Heart racing, realizing what is about to happen as your faces come closer; So close you’re able to count each of his silver lashes framing those violet eyes. 

“Are you going to kiss me?” you blurt out, seconds before he does. 

Aegon’s lips are soft and warm, his tongue parts your lips before dipping inside of your mouth. He tastes like vodka, like summer, like…

You pull away, and he lets go of your hand, falling back onto the couch, looking up at you through hooded eyes. The blonde next to him continues talking, as though nothing had happened. Aegon turns to her, smiling and continuing their conversation. 

You’re not breathing; he stole the air from your lungs. You turn on your heel, heading straight to the kitchen. A bottle of tequila is the first thing you see among other various bottles and cups on the counter. You grab the bottle, taking a long swig, not caring who’d drunk from it before you. Your heart is beating erratically against your ribs. 

Aegon just kissed you.

Aegon.

You take another swig before placing it on the counter. 

Holy shit. 

It’s the strangest feeling; like something that was meant to happen finally did. You’re stunned, standing stuck as Aegon enters the kitchen, moving by you and filling his cup with water from the sink. You march over to him as he turns on the faucet.

“Aegon,” you say to him, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Yes,” he says, glancing at you, turning off the faucet.

“You just kissed me,” you tell him.

“Mhmm,” he agrees, placing his cup on the counter, fingers curling along the edge of the sink. He stares forward like he’s contemplating something. How is he not freaking out as much as you are?

“You just kissed….me,” you repeat, raising your eyebrows.

“Yeah,” he agrees, leaning forward and kissing you again. 

His hand finds your waist, the other cradling your jaw as he deepens the kiss. You kiss him back this time, arching against him, tangling your fingers in his short silver hair. His tongue pushes past your lips and you sigh as it enters your mouth. 

This is Aegon. You’re kissing Aegon. Yet you don’t really want to stop, not when his lips feel so soft and warm molded against your own, his palm moving to your lower back and then over the swell of your ass. 

Then someone enters the kitchen and you pull away from each other quickly, as though someone physically pulled you both apart. It’s Sara and Cregan laughing about something. Cregan spots Aegon and clasps him on the shoulder before pulling him back toward the living room demanding he be his partner in beer pong. 

Sara notices your flushed face and blissed-out, shocked expression. You reach for the tequila bottle again, taking another swig letting it burn trying to get the taste of Aegon out of your mouth. Her eyes narrow suspiciously as she comes closer. 

“Whoa there,” Sara says, holding out her red solo cup, “You okay kid?”

Swallowing the mouthful of tequila you stick your tongue out at your friend.

“Aegon just kissed me.”

“Wait….what?” Sara asks, eyes wide. 

You place the bottle on the counter and remove Sara’s cup before taking both her hands in yours. 

“Aegon. Aegon just kissed me,” you repeat, staring deeply into her eyes. 

“Okay….well,” Sara shuffles from one foot to the other and you frown.

“Well, what?”

“Did you like it?”

Fuck.

“Like it? Sara, he’s like one of my best friends here,” you tell her through a forced chuckle. 

“Oh c’mon. You and Egg have had this tension for years. Like yeah, you’re friends but…friends don’t look at friends the way Aegon looks at you,” she says while reaching for her cup and taking a sip.

Your heart pounds as you think about it. All these years, the harmless flirting. The love confession. That weird feeling in the pit of your stomach every time he was with Ali. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you tell her, shaking your head. 

“Liar,” she calls you out, “And don’t think I don’t see how you look at him. The whole Ali thing this summer?”

“What?!”

“Girl, you were jealous,” she says, exasperated, “Jealous of her being with Egg.”

Okay, so maybe you had been a little jealous. 

“I mean…I don’t know,” you admit.

“Do not tell me you haven’t thought about it,” Sara tells you, “The boy’s been in love with you since we were sixteen.”

“Okay stop,” you tell her, face warming, “I don’t…I don’t know what to do…he’s going through it right now and he’s leaving soon. I just…I don’t think it’s the right time.”

Sara scrunches her nose, making a face. 

“Looks like Egg thinks it is,” she challenges.

You suck your lower lip between your teeth, unable to rid yourself of the feeling of his kiss. 

“Look, whatever happens,” Sara says, reaching out to touch your arm, “I think you should go for it. If that’s what you want.”

That’s always the question, isn’t it? 

What do you want?

There are no more surprise kisses as the night goes on. You play games, drink cheap liquor to get a little buzzed and laugh with your friends. You catch his eye briefly from across the room but nothing more. Helaena arrives at one point with her girlfriend Cerelle, blissfully stoned out of her mind and pressing a sloppy kiss to your cheek in greeting. 

People filter in and out as the night wears on. Rhaena is in no condition to drive home, and you hate driving home this late. You, Sara, Rhaena, and Cregan all decide to spend the night, fighting over which couch everyone will sleep on. Rhaena curls up on one with Sara, their legs intertwined. 

Cregan mumbles something about taking the floor, offering you the other. 

“Are you sure?” you ask and he nods, scratching the back of his neck, “You’re a gem.”

“Yeah yeah,” he grumbles, finding a spot on the floor.

You giggle softly, heading to the kitchen for more water. You hate hangovers and paced yourself rather well this evening, making sure to drink plenty of water between drinks. Your buzz is already fading as you fill your cup. 

You take a big sip, draining it halfway before filling it to the top again. You know you’ll be desperate for water in the morning and want to keep a full glass beside you. Plus, if Rhaena wakes up needing some you can offer her your cup. You shut the faucet, turning around and meeting the eyes of Aegon. Your heart skips a beat. You’d thought he’d gone to bed. 

“Hey,” you tell him, placing your cup on the counter, “Listen…Egg….”

He moves towards you, hands cupping your cheeks, pulling you in for a heated kiss. You kiss him back and it’s different this time. He tastes like water this time around, his movements less sloppy, more controlled. 

He’s sobered up, you realize as he moans against your mouth. 

Everyone’s gone home. Everyone’s asleep. It’s just you and him. 

He backs up, taking you with him, and dragging you down the hall. His hand laces through yours as he guides you into the hallway and into a room. His room.

The door shuts behind you and you keep kissing him, keep fisting the front of his shirt as he backs up knees hitting the bed and sitting down. 

You straddle his lap easily, as though you’d done it several times before. His hands move to your waist before dropping lower to palm your ass. You roll your hips against him as he takes your lower lip between his teeth, nibbling on the soft flesh. 

Your hands loop around his neck, fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck. This is Aegon. You’re kissing Aegon. Reluctantly, you pull away from his greedy mouth as his hands fall to your jean shorts, unbuttoning them and pulling down your fly.

“Are you sure?” you breathe, nose pressed against his cheek. 

Aegon’s breathing is shallow, one hand still firmly on your ass as he kisses the corner of your mouth. 

“I’ve wanted this since forever,” he admits, sending butterflies fluttering in your belly. 

He waits, not moving his hand; not going any further but also not taking any steps back.

“Me too,” you whisper and he presses his lips to yours once more. 

The kiss is hungry, stoking a fire of need deep in your belly. Aegon’s hand brushes against your lower stomach and the muscles of your abdomen contract as he breaches the band of your underwear. Fingers dipping lower, he circles your clit already wet and sensitive from your heavy makeout.

“Seven hells,” he murmurs against your mouth.

“Oh fuck,” you manage to squeak as Aegon sinks two fingers into your wet heat, curling them inside you.

He moves his fingers in and out at a torturously slow pace, the heel of his palm grazing against your clit with every thrust. 

“Fuck you’re so wet,” he comments, kissing you once more as you grind down against his hand. 

A whine slips past your lips as his lips move to caress your jaw, before kissing a hot trail down your neck. You can feel his smile against you as he speaks, “Shhh don’t wanna wake anyone, do we?”

He’s cruel with his comment, the pads of his fingers rubbing perfectly against your sweet spot sending sparks of pleasure down your legs all the way to your toes. Your eyes squeeze shut and you clench around his fingers causing him to chuckle.

“That feel good?” he asks, kissing right below your ear.

“Yes, feels s’good,” you mumble, fisting his hair harshly. Aegon groans as you ride his fingers, chasing the release building in your abdomen. 

Each curl of his fingers stokes a fire in your belly, and soon you’re trembling on top of him, falling apart as he silences your desperate cries with a kiss. Gently removing his fingers from your slick entrance he flips you onto your back, slotting himself between your legs. He pulls your shorts and underwear off in one fluid motion, tossing them to a corner of the room.

“D’you have a condom?” you ask breathlessly as you yank your tank top over your head. You unclasp your bra as Aegon removes his shirt, his violet eyes hungrily eying your freed breasts. 

You rest back on your elbows as he watches you. “Egg?”

His eyes snap back up to yours before he grips underneath your thighs pulling you toward him, “Sorry, yes, fuck,” he says, kissing your inner thigh, “Have to taste you first, please.”

Your face is on fire but you nod at his pleading as he buries his face in between your thighs. Aegon licks a thick stripe up your drenched slit, swirling his tongue around your sensitive clit. You throw your head back against the pillow as he continues to feast on you, alternating between dipping his tongue in your entrance and suckling on your clit. 

“Fuckfuckfuck,” you hiss through clenched teeth, “So fucking good Egg shit--” 

He moans against you, fingers digging into your thighs and soon your legs are shaking around his head, trapping him between your thighs as you come with a muffled cry. Aegon crawls back on top of you, kissing you fervently, the taste of you fresh on his tongue. You scratch down his back, pull him as close as you can to you. 

“Condom,” you gasp, feeling the hardness between his legs pressing as you through his jeans, “I need you--”

“Right here,” he says, leaning to his nightstand. He yanks the drawer open so hard, it crashes to the floor with a thud. You both freeze before descending into giggles.

“Shhh,” he cautions and you cover your mouth as your laughter continues, “Seven hells--” he reaches to the floor retrieving a condom. 

“Stop it,” he says with a smile, removing your hand to kiss you again.

“M’sorry,” you mumble, trying to hold in your laughter. 

Aegon slips his jeans down, followed quickly by his boxers freeing his long, hard cock. The tip is flushed pink, weeping precum as he lazily strokes himself. You wet your lips as he tears open the condom wrapper, rolling it down his generous length. Once he’s done, you’re quick to pull him back into a kiss, feeling his heavy cock slap against your inner thigh. 

“You’re sure?” you ask again, and Aegon nods.

“I’m sure,” he confirms, “Fuck, are…are you?”

“Yes,” you tell him, reaching to guide him toward your aching center, “Yes, I’m sure.”

He sinks inside your tight, waiting pussy and you gasp at the way he stretches you out. You’re so tight around him, it’s nearly painful for a moment as you adjust to his girth. 

“Fuck,” you hiss as he bottoms out, “Seven….”

“You okay?” he mumbles, placing a wet kiss on your neck.

“I’m good,” you confirm, fire blazing in your belly as he rolls his hips against you, stealing the breath from your lungs, “Gods…”

Aegon keeps his face buried in the crook of your neck, you can feel his hot breath against your skin in between the kisses and love bites he adorns you with. Every rock of his hips winds the coil in your gut tighter and tighter until you feel as though you’re a bowstring about to snap. 

“Fuck you’re so tight,” he murmurs, “Want you to come again, baby, c’mon.”

Nails digging into his shoulders you’re thrown over the edge, the coil in your gut snapping as white-hot pleasure washes over you. Your pussy clenches, milking his cock for all its worth as you feel him twitch inside of you; Aegon moans as he reaches his own release. 

You hold onto him for a moment, letting yourself bask in the pleasure he’s given you, feeling the weight of him resting on top of you, his softening cock still buried within you. Slowly, the tingling sensation of your orgasm begins to ebb, the sheen of sweat that coats your body causes you to shiver as you grow cold. Aegon rolls off of you, throwing his legs over the edge of the bed. He runs a hand through his hair, back still facing you. 

You sit up, watching him, suddenly feeling very exposed in your naked state. Aegon removes the condom, ties it, and throws it in the trash can beside his bed. Then he reaches for a pair of shorts. Heat blooms in your cheeks as you rise, searching for your clothes. 

Aegon doesn’t say anything, just watches you out of the corner of his eye. You grab your bra and shirt first, throwing them back on. Panic rises in your throat suddenly at what’s just happened. 

Oh gods.

You’ve ruined everything, haven’t you?

Why isn’t he saying anything? Aegon stands, running a hand through his hair.

“We’re okay, right?” you nervously ask as you slip your shorts and underwear back on, “This won’t change anything, right?”

You can’t read his expression. He gives you a wry grin before nodding. 

“Course not,” he says, grabbing your hand, “C’mere.”

He pulls you gently toward the bed. You curl up next to him, his arm underneath your head. He falls asleep first, you can hear his gentle snoring in your ear. You can’t sleep. You just stare up at the ceiling counting each inhale and exhale. 

“Aegon?” you whisper, turning your head.

He doesn’t answer, still lost in sleep, and you’re left staring at the ceiling once more. 

“Shut the fuck up!” Sara says the following morning. 

You’d gone with Rhaena and Sara for breakfast, leaving the others behind. You had gotten up, returning to the living room before everyone else woke up. Cregan was the only one awake, eyes narrowing as you lay on the couch. 

“Could’ve slept there,” he’d mumbled, before rolling over. 

Rhaena is slumped over her eggs, rubbing her temples as Sara excitedly shouts as you reveal what happened. 

“I’m serious,” you tell them.

“Was it good?” 

“Yeah, it was good,” you confirm.

“What does this mean?” Rhaena asks with a groan, “Fuck I think I’m gonna be sick..”

“I mean, I think I need to talk to him,” you admit, “About…this.”

“Well, I have to go back to the house anyway to pick up Cregan,” Sara says, lacing her fingers together, “Come with and you can talk to him.”

Nervous anticipation pools in your belly.

“Okay,” you tell her.

After dropping Rhaena at home, you and Sara head back to the Targaryen mansion. It’s quiet when you arrive, walking in the door like you both live there. Helaena and Cerelle are curled up on the couch watching a movie. 

“My brother still here?” Sara asks and Helaena raises her head from Cerelle’s lap.

“Mhmm, they’re in the pool,” she confirms, “Aegon tried to host a darty, not many people showed up yet though.”

“Of course he did,” you say, rolling your eyes.

Sara nods to you and you follow her to the back door. The Targaryen backyard is a prime party zone, with its waterfall pool, large stone patio, and massive green yard. You spot Cregan right away, tossing a cursing Aly Blackwood into the pool. 

Your eyes scan over the dozen people before your heart drops into your stomach. Aegon’s in the pool as well, silver hair slicked back, a lopsided smile on his face. That’s not what makes your heart lurch, rather it's who is attached to him. 

Cassandra Baratheon clad in a deep blue string bikini straddles his waist, playing with the sunglasses on his head. She takes them off, putting them on her own face before Aegon lifts her up, setting her on the edge of the pool. She giggles, hands on his shoulders before giving the sunglasses back. Aegon squeezes her thighs, no doubt leaving indentations of his fingers on her porcelain skin. 

“Oh fuck,” Sara whispers, “Y/N…”

“What?” you ask, tearing your gaze away, “What? No…no it's fine… that's nothing. I’m good.”

Sara’s eyes are sad, “Honey…”

“Seriously, Sara, I’m good,” you insist, chest tight with emotion, “I’m just going to grab a water…”

“Give me five minutes,” Sara tells you, “Let me tell Cregan I’m taking you home.”

You give her a wordless nod as she moves toward her brother. You walk past the pool over to a cooler, grabbing water. The sun suddenly feels uncomfortably warm, a dull throbbing beginning behind your eyes. 

Someone comes up next to you, reaching into the cooler. Aegon shakes his head, droplets of water flying this way and that. You stare at him, watching as he grabs a can of beer. He glances at you after cracking the can and taking a long sip. 

“What?” he says. It’s friendly but different. There’s a new edge underneath the question.

Nothing will change, right?

Your throat tightens and you can feel tears prickling behind your eyes. Aegon just stares back, running a hand through his damp hair.

“Nothing,” you tell him, “I was just leaving.”

“You should stay for the party,” he suggests casually. 

You gaze at him, searching his violet eyes for anything, anything at all. 

“I’m tired,” you admit, “I’ll see you later.”

Aegon watches you leave, Sara wrapping her arm around your shoulders. There’s a moment of pause as the door closes behind you, and then Aegon finishes his drink and returns to the pool.

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As you opened it, Robbs eyes dancing with excitement, you wondered what he had planned. However, when you opened it to find a black lacy underwear for a moment you rolled your eyes, a smile toying your lips before it fell when you lifted it out the box. “Robb no,” you protested as you held the soft fabric. A small black bullet vibe was placed inside the underwear and when you looked further in the box you found the remote, “Cmon,” Robb grinned, shuffling closer to you on the couch and gripping your thigh and kissing your cheek, “It’d be hot,” “It’d be dangerous,” you protested as you fumbled with the remote, “what if they hear it?” you ask, clicking it on and listening to how it buzzed. Robb took the panties, closing his hand around the vibrator to muffle the sound, “See you can barely hear it?” You gnawed at your lip as you debated it. sighing you snatched back the underwear and stood up, “You owe me,” you said as you began to slip off the pair you had originally planned on wearing. A wide grin spread across Robbs face as he watched you slip the fabric up your legs, his hands moving to rest on the backs of your thighs, “You won’t regret this babe,” he said.

But you almost did when he first clicked it on. The smirk on his lips was faint as he asked his brother how he and Ygritte met over dinner. Your body jolted for a second and you did your best to play it off by brushing your hair out your face, sending a small glare to Robb. The bullet however was right over your clit so even though it was the lowest setting you could already feel yourself growing wet as it buzzed. You crossed your legs, hoping clenching your thighs would give you some release but all it did was press it in further. A moan was threatening to spill as your fingernails dug into Robbs thigh and a moment later, he clicked it off. However instead of relief you almost felt disappointed as you tried to breathe again. “What about you (y/n)?” Jons voice snapped you from your thoughts, making you turn with a slight hum as if you just hadn’t heard and not that you had a dirty secret under the table, “How’s the job?” he said, slight chuckle in his voice, “Or am I boring you already?” “Sorry Jon,” you laughed as Robb placed a hand on your thigh under the table, giving it a knowing squeeze, “Yeah it’s been alright,”

Dinner continued with few hiccups. Twice Robb had switched it on however this time only for a few seconds, deciding to reign in his teasing. Or so you thought. “Hey babe could grab us some popcorn while I go to the bathroom?” Robb asked and foolishly you assumed he was asking because he wanted popcorn. A reasonable assumption since your movie started in ten minutes and Jon and Ygritte were at the other counter buying tickets. It was as soon as you were two steps away that you felt the buzzing start. Your walk faltered, almost stopping in your tracks when the cashier gave you a concerned look. “You ready to order miss?” the bored looking highschooler asked. “Um can I just um get an um,” you began to stutter as your eyes widened when you realised Robb had set it to two this time. “large popcorn,” you practically squeaked. “Whatever,” the man mumbled as he turned to go fill up your tub, “It’s a fresh batch so it’ll just be a minute miss,” he said and for a moment you wished the earth would swallow you whole as your thighs clenched together and you prayed no one would notice. You could feel your stomach tightening and you did your best to push the feeling down. Your fingers played with the hem of your dress, picking at the fabric, and praying no one could see the subtle twitches you made as you bit your lip. How on earth where you supposed to carry the popcorn back without spilling anything when on the brink of an orgasm? Thankfully as soon as the man turned around, sitting the massive bag of popcorn down, the vibe stopped, and you let a sigh of audible relief. “That’ll be $13.89,” he said, and you just shoved a 10 and a 5 to him before snatching the popcorn and taking off. However, when you turned a scowl fell on your lips as you saw Robb standing laughing, leaning against a pillar a few feet away, “I swear to god I’m going to- “you whispered when you reached him but stopped and replaced your glare with a smile when Jon and Ygritte walked over. “Hey guys,” you grinned, ignoring how Robb was still struggling not to laugh.

You were so wrapped up in barbie that you’d completely forgot about the whole night until you felt that familiar buzz. You glanced over to Robb who was sat beside you, seeing him smirking in the dark room. You looked out further to where Jon and Ygritte sat beside him except, she was curled into Jons side, their eyes fixed on the scene of the kens preparing for battle. Robb draped his arm over your shoulder, pulling you into his side and kissing the top of your head as you tried to keep your eyes fixed to the screen as your thighs began to clench again. You saw Robb click the remote this time, the vibe going to two however when he pressed it again, the vibe buzzing perfectly against your clit, you let out a soft whimper that was luckily drowned out by Kens song starting. Your hand moved to Robbs thigh, gripping it tightly as your thighs clenched even harder. You felt your body jolt when he pressed it again, the vibe now at full speed. You weren’t sure if it was because the other incidents this night or whether because you were in a semi crowded movie theatre, but you felt a rush come over you as a familiar knot appeared in your stomach. “Robbie,” you whispered in his ear, but it was more of a whimper. Robb hummed, his eyes not leaving the screen, “I can’t-you need to stop,” you whispered, feeling yourself come to the brink. “No one’s paying attention,” Robb whispered back, his voice lower than usual only making this even hotter, “Relax babe,” he whispered, kissing the top of your head. Another small whine left your lips as Robb placed a hand on your thigh. You could feel your body start to twitch as you bit down on your lip, silently begging no more noises would come out. Everyone was laughing at the movie, their gazes fixed firmly on the screen while yours stared at how Robb gripped the flesh of your thigh. Then it hit you like a ton of bricks, taking in a sharp breath as your eyes tightened shut. Robb had made you come before, but this was different as you clutched at his thigh, almost collapsing back in your seat panting as you came down from your high. All your sounds were muffled by laughter all around and you gazed up at Robb with the hottest gaze he’d ever seen, “You so owe me,” you whispered making Robb laugh as he switched the toy off for the last time. well, that night at least.

That night you couldn’t sleep. You wandered the halls of the castles in a far simpler dress than you’d worn at the ball. Despite it being plainer it was already Jace’s favourite as he noticed how the fabric clung to your curves. “My lady,” his low voice snapped you from your daydream and you turned around, pulling your shawl tight over your chest, “Its awfully late to walk the halls alone. Wont you allow me to walk you to your chambers?” he asked but it did not sound like a question as he approached you.

The walk was not long enough for Jace’s liking as you made small talk on your travels. “This is me,” you said softly, your hand reaching for your door handle, “Thank you my prince,”

“Aren’t you even going to offer me a night cap?” Jace said suddenly stepping forward. Your movements paused as you looked up at the man, noticing just how close he was, “After all it is still my name day,” he said, his hot breathing fanning over your face.

Jace made no attempt to conceal his wandering eyes and how they travelled your body, “My prince,” you stuttered out, “it would be improper. I am not yours,”

“You could be,” Jace said, his eyes snapping up to look into your own, “I no commitments, no wife to speak of. there’s no reason we could not choose this for ourselves,” Jace said, stepping closer till his chest was pressed against yours, your back against the hard wooden door, “If you want to be mine that is,”

“I suppose one drink couldn’t hurt,” the words left your lips like a poison and soon the one drink had turned into four and his wandering eyes now explored the skin under your dress.

Jace was sat in a chair, his tunic long gone and left in only his small clothes while you, in just your shift, were straddling his lap. His hands gripped your hips, encouraging you to grind against his hard clothed cock. Your lips were locked in a messy desperate kiss while your fingers gripped his locks.

You whined when his lips fell away but gasped as he began to kiss down your jaw then neck till his lips settled in attacking your sweet spot between your neck and shoulder. Grinding down onto his hard member sent chills up your body as your clit rubbed against him perfectly. “Who do you belong to?” Jace murmured against your skin.

“You my prince,” you said, though your voice was light and airy and filled with breathy moans as your hips began to buck.

“All mine,” Jace murmured, his lips latching onto your collarbone sucking harsh spots along your soft skin, “All this for me,” he said, his hands moving to grab your arse under the thin fabric of your shift, “Just for me,” he murmured, his hands traveling to grope your chest.

“Please my prince,” you whined, your head falling back in pleasure.

“Please what?” Jace said, his hand moving to grab your chin to make you look him in the eyes while you begged.

A soft whimper left your throat at the sight of his dark eyes, somehow darker than usual, “I need you,” you whined, your movements slowing but not stopping as you rubbed your clit against his clothed cock.

“Do you deserve me?” Jace asked, his thumb stroking over your cheek softly. “After all you were dancing with all sorts of men,” he chastised.

“I don’t want them,” you pleaded, “Only you, my prince. It’s only ever been you,”

This answer seemed to satisfy the prince whose hands now moved to rest on your hips, “Is that why you wore that pretty little dress? So, I’d have to dream of tearing it off of you?” he asked, his eyes glinting when you gave a small nod, a whimper coming out your throat, “Such a thoughtful girl,” Jace murmured, his hand slipping between your bodies till his fingers ran up your wet slit.

You gasped when you felt his fingers teasing your hole, “Please,” you begged, your hips bucking to try gain some friction, “I wanna be yours Jace,”

The sound of his name falling from those perfect lips made his eyes darken, his cock twitching underneath you. his fingers pushed in, stretching you out perfectly as you gasped. Moans fell from your lips as Jace continued to fuck you with his fingers while his mouth went back to sucking dark spots along your skin.

His free hand roughly pulled your shift down. You shivered as the cold air brushed over your skin but gasped when you felt Jace’s lips suck harsh marks on your breasts before finally capturing your nipple in his mouth. “Who do you belong to?” Jace mumbled against your skin as he felt your clench around his fingers.

“Yours,” you said breathlessly as you chased your high which threatened to spill at any moment, “all yours my prince just yours,” it fell from your lips like a prayer before a loud moan spilled from your lips as your body tightened.

Jace ensured his movements did not stop till you had ridden out your orgasm, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead as he pulled his fingers out. You practically collapsed into his chest as you tried to catch your breath, “What about you?” you tried to ask but Jace shushed you, his hand moving to stroke your back.

“Don’t worry about me little one,” he said, kissing your head.

A few moments of silence past before you asked, “You didn’t leave any marks, did you?” you asked.

Jace smirked as he thought about the state, he had left your skin in, “Maybe a couple,” he said, knowing full well you would need a high neckline to cover the markings he had left.

Sansa watched the wedding doe eyed and Catelyn felt her eyes grow wet at the sight of her son, smiling down at his betrothed as they made their union promise. The king tried to look stoic, clearing his throat umpteen times to keep his tears back. Tyrion stood front row, much to your mother’s dismay and wearing the beaming smile you would have expected from a mother.

Your mother stood stoned face as she watched, smiling when looked at by anyone but you. she gave you a knowing look. “He will be your husband. Nothing more. He will share your bed, but you will have separate chambers. he will tell you how to act. You must listen when he is there. You must choose your battles and the most important ones will be what comes out between your legs,” her lessons rang in your ears when you had met Robb for the first time.

You knew she wanted to protect you the way she thought she needed to. To her Robb was a stranger, a threat, the captor of her daughter, the thief in the north, the unknown. What she did not know was the way Robb softly stroked his fingers over your cheeks when he held you or how he rubbed his hands over yours to warm them.

She didn’t notice how he would let you walk in front and was happy to follow behind. She didn’t notice how grey wind went to protect you when someone stepped out of line. She didn’t notice the lingering glances or the way his hands held yours a moment too long once the dance had stopped. She didn’t notice. She didn’t want to hope.

You however had noticed his affection for you. you noticed how his cheeks tinged pink when he helped you on your horse or how he laughed loudly at jokes he barely understood. You noticed he would reach for his sword when a stranger approached or how he smiled when you walked in the room. The same dopey smile he wore when he swore to protect you.

The ceremony had been beautiful, done in front of the heart tree as you pledged to the old gods and new. When you arrived at the feast it was already filled with excitement as the south and north began to mix. You danced first with Robb then each of his sisters then his brothers, including Jon who had been nervous to take the floor with you, but you had insisted.

You danced with your father who choked out a teary piece of advice. “Never forget you are my daughter. When you need me, you’ll have me,” he told you privately on the dance floor. While he trusted ned with all his heart you knew he would miss you.

You danced with your siblings, even convincing Joffrey to join you. Your mother stayed sat in her chair all night, but you made sure to talk to her even if you could see the nerves behind her eyes. Your uncle Jamie gave you a tight-lipped smile but not much more while your uncle Tyrion was only two drinks down and already very excited.

“My little niece has gotten married,” He proclaimed loudly as you approached his table and laughed at his state, “Oh how my heart breaks. Stolen away by some northern heathens,”

“Now, now uncle,” you said as you sat down at the table, stealing a glass of wine, “You can’t get rid of me that easy. You shall visit me,”

“Shall I?” he fakes pondered as he poured himself a fresh drink, “The north is too cold for me sweet niece,”

You hummed a laugh as you clinked your glasses, “I’m sure I will find you a warm enough room. After all I am your favourite,” you grinned making him laugh as you continued the festivities. You however had no idea the next time you saw your uncle it would be on such a sour note.

It was only the week after your wedding that Bran had fallen from the window however you knew he hadn’t fallen from the look on your mother’s face alone. As soon as the Queen had left you told Robb your suspicions, but they fell on deaf ears. You tried to ignore the growing pit in your stomach the day your father had left, Ned joining him in the south, but you just knew. You just knew.

The war came quick, and it came hard. The only reason Winterfell had so quickly rebuilt their supplies was at your instruction. Robbs men had suggested you stay behind to guard Winterfell, war was no place for a wife, but when you told Robb you wanted to come, he agreed with no hesitation. He’d seen the way you could shoot a bow and was even frightened when he saw how you swung a sword.

You had been trained by the hound after all amongst many other swords masters. Barristan Selmy had even given you a few tips. Your father had arranged the lessons, insisting no daughter of his would go down without a fight. Your mother had taught you other lessons. Poisons and daggers and knives disguised in rings. You knew how to survive. You knew how to fight.

Maybe you should have stayed behind. It was a thought that plagued your mind the moment you left and cursed you when you released what Theon had done. Robb assured you it was not your fault. Catelyn had said no one man could hold a castle by themselves. But what if you could have?

Walder Frey was your next big problem. He tried to convince Catelyn your marriage was just an inconvenience to a new alliance, but a Stark keeps their oath. Soon you had to break the bad news to Edmure Tully of his pending nuptials to a Frey girl.

Despite everything you had hope. Not once had you lost a battle. Not one. You charged in on horseback, Robb leading the front and you fighting with those at the back. Grey wind charged into battle first, but it did not take long for you to spot him on the battlefield. However, Robb had insisted on one thing.

Each time you joined him on battle you were dressed as a man with a helmet covering your face. He couldn’t risk Tywin knowing you were on the field. After all, if your siblings were bastards that made you the rightful queen of the seven, now six, kingdoms.

“I just have a bad feeling about this,” you told Robb as he helped lace you into your dress before Edmures wedding.

Robb sighed as he finished up the ties before turning you to face him, “You know I would never let anything happen to you,” he said, his fingers stroking over your cheek.

You kissed the palm of his hand, enjoying his touch for just a moment, “I know but I worry,”

“We can worry tomorrow,” Robb said, kissing your forehead as he held your face softly in his hands, “but for now we can take pause. Even a Frey would not defile guest rights,”

When grey wind refused to enter the Twins, you almost dragged Robb away right then and there. However, Cat and Robb insisted everything would be alright. You believed them. Well, you wanted to. You tried to believe them.

“My king has married, and I owe my new queen a wedding gift,” Walder began to say as you stood from your chair, a practised smile on your face as you moved to stand beside Robb. Before you could reach him, chairs scrapped against stone floors as Cateleyn slapped Roose Bolton.

“Robb,” she cried as Roose climbed from his chair. You tried to grab Robbs hand, to grab him and run, your hand already reaching for the dagger you had hidden. However, before you could grab its handle you felt a hand wrap about your wrist, yanking you back harshly.

Your fingers were just brushing Robbs hand when you were pulled back into the chest of Roose Bolton, his arm trapping you to his chest. Your nails sunk into his wrist, desperately trying to pull yourself out of his grip as Roose picked you up and began to drag you away to the side.

“Robb,” you cried out. You felt your heart racing, your eyes searching for where Robb was stood as arrows got set loose on the Stark men, your men. You tried to pry yourself free as your men were slaughtered by crossbows and daggers.

When the first arrow hit Robb you screamed, a guttural scream that pierced even your own ears as you felt your stomach lurch. You twisted in Rooses grip, turning your head to sink your teeth down onto his nose making him cry out in pain. he let you go out of instinct, and you quickly ran to where Robb lay as an arrow hit cat in the shoulder, knocking her to the ground.

“Run,” Robb said, his voice low almost a whisper as he tried to pull himself to his feet, “Don’t stop for me,” he said through gritted teeth, but your hand reached for his. “Go!” he almost yelled but you could see the pain in his eyes, “its too late for me,” he grunted, and your eyes fell to where he was looking.

You felt yourself grow sick at the sight of an arrow tip sticking out his stomach. It had gone through between his ribs, and you could see the thick blood dripping off its end onto the stone floor. “I can’t leave you,” you whispered as you stood, pulling him with you.

Your eyes scanned the room. There was no where to go. No bargain to offer no clear way to run. Your eyes fell to Catelyn who had crawled under a table nearby. You could see the fear in her eyes. Your own eyes turned to Robb who tried his best to stand. “Go,” he begged, “Don’t die for me,” he whispered, a tear rolling down his face as he pushed your hand away, but you clung on tighter, “I love you too much to see you die,”

“I love you too,” you tried to say but it came out as broken whimpers, “Theres no way for me to run,”

“Lord Walder!” Cats voice was the only thing to drag your eyes from your husband as you watched his mother hold a knife to a girl of no more than twelves throat, “Let it end, please. he is my son,” she begged.

You could see Robbs skin start to sweat, the colour draining from his face. You felt a tear fall down your cheek when you realised, he was dying. Robb had realised it too as his clammy hands moved to softly hold your cheeks as you kneeled together on the ground. Your hands reached for his face, stroking your thumb over his cheek.

“Take me for a hostage,” Catelyn cried, “Take her. she is the princess. Think of how much you could get!” she cried as Robb shuffled closer to you, his head moving to lean against yours. you ignored Catelyn’s pleas, ignored the way she tried to trade you for her son. You would have offered yourself too for Robb if not for the blood you could see at the corner of his mouth.

“Get up and walk out,” Catelyn begged Robb but he ignored her. you weren’t sure if he could even hear her. his face shuffled forwards, his lips softly brushing against yours. you tried to ignore the metallic taste as his blood tainted your final kiss. Tried to ignore Catelyn’s cries. Tried to ignore the feeling of Robbs skin growing cold beneath your fingertips.

You screamed when he was ripped from your arms. When your eyes looked up through the tears you saw Roose Bolton holding Robb, blood dripping still from where your teeth had sunk in. Robb looked to Cat, “Mother,” he mumbled making her let out a sob. His eyes turned to yours, looking down at your filled with regret, “Wife,” was the last word that left his lips before a gasp when Roose Boltons dagger sunk into his chest.

“The Lannister’s send their regards,” you heard him whisper and you lunged for him only to be pulled back by yet another one of the Frey men.

“Take her to the kennels for the night. Her mother wants to see her,” Walder Frey called out as one of his sons dragged you out the room.

You let your body go limp as you listened to Catelyn’s scream echo the once happy hall. You let yourself be dragged, acting as if you could not walk. Tears streamed down your cheeks, but you didn’t have to pretend to let them flow.

However as soon as you were the only ones in the corridor your fingers felt for the hilt of your dagger, your fingers wrapping around the black leather. Your eyes glanced up to the distracted Frey man. You glanced forward, making sure the corridor was empty before slamming your head back into his mouth making him cry out and drop you.

This time you were ready though as you spun around, your dagger sinking through the side of his throat. When you pulled it back, he collapsed to his knees, blood squirting out his neck as his body fell lifelessly to the ground. You didn’t have time to watch the light leave his eyes as it had Robbs.

Your hands reached for his belt, undoing it quickly before tightening it around your own waist. Next was his cloak. It was too long but would work for now you thought as you put up the hood before taking off down the corridor. Your hands squeezed the pouch on his belt as you ran, and you sighed of relief when you could feel coins through it. his sword was heavier than you’d like but you knew you could handle it. before anyone knew what had happened you were already at the forest edge on the back of a Frey horse.

The next couple of weeks were possibly the worst of your life. You wanted to mourn, to curl up in a ball and sob. You wanted to die. However, you couldn’t. you had to live. Robb wanted you to live. As you walked the forest you often felt your hand hover over your stomach.

Baby Robb you thought. Or Catelyn for a girl. Your bloods hadn’t arrived for little over three months. At first you thought it was the stress of war but as you stood on the forest edge, listening to the faint sounds of your men being slaughtered as you escaped you knew. You knew you were pregnant, and you wondered if Robb would’ve run if he had known.

If you had not come across the brother hood without banners you wondered if you would have survived much longer with such a large bounty on your head. Soon though your mission became less about surviving and more about getting revenge.

When you sunk an arrow into the chest of the first Frey you came upon you remembered your anger and soon it almost became like a sport. It wasn’t hard to find a Frey to kill and they rarely put up a fight. It was the Lannister’s that were harder. Though many knew you and thought they could convince you to return to your family’s side.

You made sure to stab they ones twice. You never stabbed to kill, however. You enjoyed watching them crawl away, desperate to find help, but knowing they’d bleed out before finding any. But revenge is not a survival tool you soon learned.

You had been washing your face down at the stream near where you and the brotherhood had chosen to set up camp. It was almost peaceful here. The birds were chirping, deer walked around with no care in the world. Feeling the sweat wash off your face as your splashed yourself with the cool water was the best feeling you had had since the wedding.

For a moment, a single moment, you tried to forget it all. You let yourself enjoy the stream, your fingers hovering in the water, enjoying how the water flowed around them. You looked up across the stream, smiling at the stag that stood across the water from you. Dad. The idea pained your chest. Everything was so much simpler before.

When the stag began to kick you squinted, moving to stand to help the creature when you felt a hand grab a chunk of your hair. You tried to scream, to reach for his hand, but the ice-cold water entering your mouth made it hard to even move. You tried to thrash but you did little but make the water splash. You could hear muffle voices from atop the water but with no clue who they belonged to.

Your eyes stung as you tried to look up. You managed to turn your head just enough to see the stag out the corner of your eye. You wondered if the wolf that had pawed its way up to stand by the stag was real. It almost looked as if it was smiling down at you. your hands slipped away from your attacker’s grip as your body grew stiller. Your eyes stayed on the stag and wolf. When you need me, you’ll have me. Your fathers’ words echoed in the water. I love you too much you could hear Robbs voice whisper before everything faded to black.

“Where is she?” Cerci demanded as her apparent cousins she’d never heard of stood before her throne. “You said you had my daughter,”

“Yes, my queen,” the man bowed before turning to signal for a crate to be brought forward, “We have her right here,”

“Are there air holes in that box?” Tyrion asked, walking down the stairs from the throne to the crate the mountain had sat down with less than grace.

“Why would we need airholes my lord?” the man’s words even made cerci stand from her throne as Tyrion began to pry the crate open with his dagger, “Your grace we were told she had committed treason. She murdered my father your grace, your cousin. She was dangerous I’m telling you my grace you have to believe me,” the man pleaded but it fell on deaf ears as Cersei approached the crate.

Tyrion slowly pried it open, his eyes peeking inside before gasping, slamming its lid shut as he backed away, “What is it brother?”

“Don’t look in there” Tyrion begged as cerci approached the crate, “Don’t look in there! Any of you,” he screeched.

Cercis eyes were cold as stone as she looked from the crate to the mountain then to her cousin. The mans eyes widened in terror as the mountain carried him out wordlessly, “Please your grace. I thought this is what you wanted,” he screamed.

“Get out,” Cersi muttered, “All of you out!” she screamed making everyone, but Tyrion flee out the room. Her eyes were locked on the crate, “Is she-?” she tried to ask as Tyrion stood from where he had keeled over on the floor.

His feet scraped the ground as he walked over to stand by his sister, “She’s dead,” he said, his voice cold but tears streaked down his cheeks, “They killed her,” Cersei’s hand reached to open to crate, but Tyrion shuddered as he turned around, “Do not make me look at her,” he begged.

“I have to know,” she murmured as she took the lid off the crate, her eyes wound shut till she heard the lid clatter to the ground. Cerci opened her eyes, expecting to see her daughter asleep in a box but she gasped when she saw the reality. “No,” she gasped, her hand clutching her heart as she stepped towards the crate.

“Look what you’ve done,” Tyrion said through gritted teeth, “Look at the girl you had killed!”

“I never- I didn’t mean- I didn’t want her to die,” cerci said as she reached out to stroke her daughter’s hair but when Tyrion saw out the corner of his eye, he slapped her hand away. “I- “

“You do not touch her!” he screeched, “She is dead because of you! all of this is because of you,” he yelled at his sister before noticing a new horror reach her eyes. Tyrion choked back his tears, trying to hold his stomach steady as he peered back into the box, “Oh my gods,” he whispered as he backed away from the box.

“I didn’t know,” Cersi whispered, her eyes unable to move.

“You killed your own grandchild,” Tyrion whispered, venom dripping off his tongue as he backed away from his sister, “Your own daughter! Your flesh and your blood!” he began to yell once more.

“I didn’t mean to- “Cersei tried to beg, tears falling from her eyes as she backed away from the crate.

“That doesn’t matter,” Tyrion said coldly as he glared up at his older sister, “She is dead because of you. and I hope that haunts you till your last breath,”

"Well, I think that about covers chapter 16," your lecturer said as the slides flickered off and the classroom went dim as everyone began to pack up, "Have a good weekend everyone and don't forget your papers due on Tuesday next week,"

Unlike your fellow classmates who groaned at the idea of studying over the weekend you didn't care as you'd done it all in the past couple nights as a way to distract yourself from your impending visit. You quickly rushed from your lecture hall to your dorm, saying a very hurried goodbye to your friends who all had been made aware of Aemond’s visit and wolf whistled as you ran out the class.

As you arrived at your dorm you saw your roommate sara putting on her makeup at her desk that acted as her vanity. “You are going out tonight?” You asked, trying to seem casual as you unpacked your bag.

She hummed her yes as she finished applying her lipstick, “Yeah, are you needing the room tonight?”

“Well, it’s just,” you said as you felt your face grow hot. You weren’t sure why the idea of admitting you wanted her gone to get laid was so embarrassing, but you found yourself tripping over your words, “It’s just cause Aemond, my boyfriend, I told you about him I think, well he’s coming over so like I just wanted to know- “you rambled as sara spun round in her chair, mouth dropped before quickly turning into a smile.

“The dorm is yours tonight,” she grinned as she jumped out her chair, “Its about time you got some, look at you go,” she said as she shoved your shoulder with a jokey grin that at least helped settle your nerves. “Sit, sit,” she said as she led you over to her desk chair, “When does he get here? How much time do I have?”

“Time? For what?” You asked as you quickly checked Aemond’s text, “He said he’s like an hour away,”

Sara sighed, placing her hands on your shoulders, “I can do it in 40 minutes. We gotta make you look good. You’ve not seen him in how long?”

“Four weeks,” you said with a deflated sigh, “It’s been hell,”

“Just trust me. Im gonna have you looking gorg for him getting here,” sara said as she began to take your hair out your pony and get to work. You hadn’t expected to become close with sara after your first week here but surprisingly as she did your hair and makeup you seemed to click instantly. Finally, something in common you thought but also wow she was doing a good job.

For the first time in the month, you had been here you got dolled up and now you remembered why it felt so good, “Right im gonna go now so you can get changed and be all hot and ready for Aemond,” Sara said as she snatched up her bag, “i’ll just crash at Jaces so yous will have the place to yourselves,”

“Thanks, you’re the best,” you said as you stared at yourself in the mirror.

“I know,” sara grinned as she headed to the door, “Have fun and be safe. This room can’t fit a crib,”

You laughed as she shut the door before turning towards your drawers to fish out some lingerie. Aemond had made comment over the phone that the dark red bodysuit looked particularly hot so that was a no brainer. After that you quickly slipped his hoodie over the top and before eventually deciding on a plaid skirt to complete the academic aesthetic you had tried to achieve at college. As you slipped the skirt on your phone buzzed.

Aem - Just parked outside your building love. Where should I go?

You – i’ll meet you down there 2 secs Aemy

You quickly grabbed your keys and phone before practically sprinting to the elevator. When you finally got outside your eyes scanned the parking lot and you instantly grinned when you saw Aemond stood leaning on his car he had affectionally named Vhagar. You could see his smile from the steps of your building when he spotted you rushing down the steps.

“Hey- “Aemond went to say as you flung yourself into his arms and he began to chuckle as he wrapped them tight around you, “i’ve missed you too sweetheart,” he said, kissing the top of your head.

After a few moments you pulled back, your eyes slightly glazed over despite him finally being here, “Im so happy you came,”

“Me too love,” Aemond said softly as he gave you the first kiss in a month. It was slow and soft and perfect but not what you wanted to do in the middle of a parking lot, “Lets head in love,” Aemond said, reading your mind as you began to lead him to the doors. “You look stunning by the way,” Aemond said as he held the front door open for you.

You giggled as if it was your first date as you lead him to the elevator, “You’re gonna make me blush,” you laughed as you pressed the button to the fifth floor.

Aemond moved to step behind you as the doors shut and you gasped when you felt his hands suddenly grab your hips, pulling your ass to grind into his now apparent hard on, “Maybe I like it when you blush,” he said, leaning down to let his breath fan against your ear.

“What if the door opens!” You squealed, moving to push his hands away but he slipped them down only to slip them up under your skirt.

“How can you look that good and expect me not to touch you?” He asked, kissing your earlobe as his hands squeezed your upper thighs, “You’ve got me hard just from looking at you love,” he said, his hand ghosting over your panties, “You shouldn’t be such a tease,” Aemond said despite his fingers now rubbing over your clothed clit making you whine lowly.

The growing want in your stomach outweighed any risk in your mind as you counted the floors you passed. Luckily as each floor passed the doors did not open but as you passed the fourth floor you used all your will to shove his hands off just before the door opens.

And thank the gods you did as the door opened and you were stood face to face with your RA Cregan Stark who would have defiantly torn you a new one for doing that in an elevator. You quickly rushed out of the elevator, Aemond keeping close behind you to try hide his hard on for any passersby. You quickly unlocked your door and shut it even quicker behind Aemond as you were both finally alone. You turned your back for a moment to lock the door and as soon as you turned back Aemond’s hands were cupping your face, stepping closer till your back was against the door. His lips crashed onto yours and wordlessly you both knew what the other wanted.

Your hands tangled in that soft white hair you had missed so dearly while Aemond took the opportunity to slip his hands up your skirt once more. You gasped as he grabbed your ass, squeezing it tightly as he began to grind his cock into you, desperate for friction.

Aemond’s hands only left your ass to slip under the hoodie but as he felt the soft lacey fabric he pulled back with a cocky grin. “What’s this? He asked as he suddenly pulled the hoodie from your frame. The cool air hitting your nipples made them instantly perk as Aemond’s hands ran up your sides before landing on your breasts. “So, fucking hot,” he muttered as his lips crashed back onto yours, this time hungrier if that was possible as he began to squeeze your tits. “Such a fucking tease,” he mumbled against your lips.

You whined into the kiss as your hands to fell to his shoulders, pulling at the collar of his top. Aemond broke the kiss for only a moment to pull it off, tossing it to some corner of the room as his lips latched onto your neck. You moaned as he began to suck soft hickeys down your neck while his fingers began to trace the outline of your nipples. “Been dreaming about this,” he said as he left another hickey just under your collar bone, “squeezing these,” he said, his fingers beginning to roll your nipples between them making you gasp, “and fucking that desperate little pussy of yours,”

You whined as one of his hands moved to rub your clothed clit. “You want me to fuck you, don’t you? Fuck that cunt of yours till you can’t walk,” he said, his movements speeding up, “Isn’t that right princess?”

“Yes,” you said, not caring to hide your moans as you felt the pleasure bubbling in your stomach, “Please Aemond,” you began to beg, “I can’t wait any longer,”

“Naughty girls have to wait,” Aemond chastised, a smirk mixed between his desperate kisses, “Good girls earn what they get,” He said as he began to walk backwards, one hand gripping your hip tightly.

You moaned into the kiss, desperately following his steps to what you thought would be the bed, but you gasped as Aemond suddenly sat down, pulling you to straddle his lap on your desk chair. You whined when he moved his hand, but Aemond soon pulled you closer till you were grinding desperately onto his covered hard on.

You heard Aemond’s grunts and groans as the friction increased. His hands squeezed your hips tightly, grabbing your ass till you wondered if his fingerprints left bruises. “You want my cock?” Aemond asked, his breath rugged as you desperately nodded, “Then be a good girl and earn it,” he said, gently pushing your hips back.

You blushed as you quickly slipped off the chair making Aemond smirk in satisfaction as you took your place between his knees, “That’s my good girl,” Aemond said as your hands quickly undid his trousers. You pulled his trousers and boxers down just enough for his cock to spring out. It was already red around the tip, desperate for your touch as it twitched when you reached up to stroke it gently, “You wanna suck it baby?” He asked making you nod shyly, not even glancing up at him as your eyes were stuck on his length, “Okay love,” Aemond said, his hand moving to the back of your neck to gently guide you forward.

You started with a few kitten licks, just enough to make Aemond moan under his breath. Your hands moved to hold the bottom of his shaft as you slowly began to take him in your mouth. Aemond groaned as he felt his tip slip in, his hand resting on your head as the other clenched so hard his knuckles were white as you started to increase your pace. You reached your hands up to gently squeeze his balls making Aemond curse under his breath, his hand tightens in your hair, “Fuck you’re so good,” Aemond moaned before suddenly pulling you off with a pop as salvia covered his still hard cock, “Can’t cum yet baby. Didn’t come all this way to lose it in your mouth,” he said as he stood up, holding you by your jaw to gently lift you too.

Aemond lent down, kissing you deeply as he walked you back till your thighs hit your desk. You could feel yourself get wetter with excitement when you remembered how often he had brought up this very moment. Aemond pushed your hips, urging you to sit on the desk to which you gladly complied. His hands dug into the flesh of your hips as his tongue slid into the messy kiss.

Aemond pulled back for just a moment to grab his cock, sliding his tip slowly up your slit, “This is what you’ve been thinking of right?” Aemond said, smirking as you moaned, “Me fucking your brains out on this desk. Like some kinky professor roleplay. You even dress like the naughty schoolgirl,” he said, his fingers toying with the hem of your skirt before slipping under to squeeze your thighs, “You’re dripping at just the idea,” he said as he ran a finger up your slit, pushing your panties to the side.

“Please,” you whined as you began to press kisses along that hard jaw you had missed so much, “please sir fuck me already,” you said as your fingernails dug into his shoulders.

You practically saw his face light up at the idea, “All you had to do was asked baby,” he said before slowly pushing his tip in, going as slow as possible to stretch you out, “Aw does it hurt?” Aemond said, fake pout on his perfect lips as he noticed your gasps. You bit your lip, nodding slowly as you tried to ease in the cock you had been desperate for weeks, “Too bad,” Aemond said before suddenly pushing all the way in.

You gasped but Aemond did not wait as he began his thrusts. His hands grabbed your hips for control as you sunk your fingers into his hair, pulling his lips to yours to try disguise your moans. You knew it probably did little since with each thrust the desk hit against the wall harder. All you could do was hope everyone was at class and wrap your legs around Aemond’s hips to pull him in deeper.

Aemond groaned at the new depth as he moved one of his hands to your mouth, shoving two fingers in making you look at him doe eyed, “Suck,” he commanded, his breath hoarse. He moaned as you complied, swirling your tongue around his digits before he pulled them out only to start rubbing quick circles onto your clit making your breath catch.

Aemond covered your loud moans with his kiss as you felt your body tighten, your orgasm not far away. Aemond’s spare hand moved to squeeze your tit before his fingers began to squeeze your nipples.

You felt your nails scraping down his skin, your body tightening as you felt your orgasm crash through your body. Aemond groaned as your cunt squeezed around his cock, his thrusts becoming quicker and sloppier as he chased his own peak. As Aemond fucked you through your orgasm he soon reached his, spilling inside you as he gasped for air.

Aemond’s head crashed down onto your shoulder, and you could feel the sweat covering his skin. “Thank god for the pill,” You muttered, a dazed smile on your face making Aemond laugh against you skin.

Aemond kissed your shoulder before pulling out of you, grabbing a box of tissues sat on your desk to clean you up, “I missed you,” he said, his gaze soft as he stroked your cheek.

“I missed you too,” you said, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to pull him into a deep hug. “I hope I didn’t scratch too hard,” you said as your eyes landed on the scratches inked into his skin.

Aemond chuckled as he tightened his arms around your frame, “It was worth it baby. So fucking worth it,”

“Worth it enough for a round two?” You asked, pulling away with a raised eyebrow.

You gasped as Aemond suddenly pulled you from the desk, shoving you to land on your bed with a giggle, “Oh more than just two rounds doll. Just you wait and see,”

you remember the day you met the princess clearly. you approached the queen with shaking knees and a thin layer of sweat down your back with your deepest curtsey. the smile she gave you was rehearsed, even you could tell at your age, but she did not seem as mean as some had described as she ushered you inside the red keep.

soon you were brought to Heleana who sat in the corner of the courtyard, her dress covered in grass stains and dried mud and her hands trailing along the dirt. Alicent cleared her throat and drawing her daughter’s attention who looked up confused before her lips turned into a crooked grin, “You must be my lady!” she beamed.

“I am your grace,” you said, giving your best though shaking curtsey yet again. however, this time Heleana reached a handout, grabbing your wrist gently and bringing you to sit beside her in the dirt. you glanced over your shoulder, but the queen was already halfway across the courtyard, “What are we doing my lady?”

“Call me Heleana,” she said as she picked up her latest friend, “Look at him. isn’t he marvellous?” she grinned as she showed you the caterpillar in her hand.

you were too distracted to hear the sniggering across the courtyard as the prince watched your attempts not to recoil at the bugs his sister pushed into your hands. Aegon lent against one of the archways, arms crossed as his eyes became glued to you. he wasn’t sure why he found your character so interesting but none the less could not look away even as the years went by.

years went by and you grew closer to Heleana and even with her family. all but the king that was. even queen Alicent would make small talk with you at suppers and sent gifts to your chambers on your name days. Aemond was not particularly close with you, but you had a silent understanding. Heleana however was your closest friend which was not shocking given how much time you spent together however what surprised you more was how close you grew to her eldest brother.

it surprised you at first when he suddenly began to take more of an interest in you when you turned sixteen however even before then he had always been kind. he would dance with you at balls and walk with you through the gardens when the night grew tiresome. at suppers he would take interest in your day even though you knew at times your stories were boring. you thought he was kind and sweet but what you didn’t know was that he sparred harder whenever you walked past the training field. or that he would fly his dragon past your chamber windows deliberately, hoping you’d catch a glimpse of him soring the skies. you didn’t even notice how his hands lingered around your waist when he would help you on your horse or how his eyes flickered to your lips too many times for a friend to do.

Aegon however did notice the way your smiled curved when you laughed and what wines got you the giggliest at balls. he noticed how you would style your hair in new ways each week and the new braids you would practise. he noticed how your eyes would widen after a rude lord walked away from you and which books you seemed the enjoy the most. he noticed it all and he remembered every detail.

however, he also began to notice other men noticing you also. Aegon hated seeing his guards lingering eyes on your skin or how you laughed at jokes that clearly were not funny. each time he saw another lord ask you to dance his grip on his goblet tightened till his knuckles were white.

it only got worse when you came of age and began to look for a husband. by now you had been in Kingslanding for so many years it had become home. in that time your once more minor house and blossomed into one with more power than you had ever guessed it would due to lands your family owned becoming essential to the crown. you noticed how the more powerful your family became the more lords stopped to talk to you at feasts.

so, you put on your doe eyes and kind smiles to not offend the lords who pretended to care for you as you dreamed of another. you knew you would never raise to a station high enough to marry a prince but having Aegon so close at all times made it hard not to dream of the idea.

as Aegon’s nameday was soon arriving his mother had decided to throw another one of her balls but this one would be far more important she said. she had invited everyone who was anyone as well as their sons and daughters. this was her opportunity for match making she told her children over supper. Alicent even said she had matches in mind for you as well and you couldn’t help but notice how Aegon’s face grew cold when she said it.

but soon the fabric was ordered and sewing your dresses began. Heleana never cared much for these balls but deep down they delighted you. the dancing, the music, the décor. it was all so beautiful. it also gave you an excuse to be pressed against the chest of the man you dreamed of.

it was the day before the ball, and everyone was extra busy today. the servants walked at double the speed and the cooks were making quadruple the food. all the ladies of the court were finishing off the final touches to their gowns while the men mingled and tried to organise suitable matches for their own children before the ball had even begun. luckily for you however you had finished your dress some days ago so while everyone else was running around you decided to take a stroll through the plainer gardens near the back of the castle.

while not as pretty as the gardens the guests were exploring these gardens gave you far more peace. you were able to stroll through the bushes and trees, stopping to admire the sights with no worry of anyone interrupting your peace. well, you thought that anyway until you looked down to see a prince laying down on a bench, a handkerchief over his eyes to shield them from the hot sun.

you silently laughed as you crept over, snatching the handkerchief away suddenly making Aegon’s face screw up as the sun beat down on it. “Ah! Who do you- “he angrily spouted as he quickly sat up making you step back, a giggle still on your lips, “Oh, it’s you,” Aegon said, his anger melting away to be replaced by a cheesy grin, “To what do I owe the pleasure my lady?”

“I was only out for some sunshine my prince,” you said, passing him the handkerchief back and trying not to flush when his fingers grazed yours, “I did not mean to ruin your relaxation,”

“You’ve not ruined it at all my lady,” Aegon said as he stood up. you took the moment to appreciate his fine features and how his hair shone like diamond strands in the sun, “Would you care to join me?” he offered as he gestured for you to sit down on the bench he had used as a bed.

“Why thank you my prince,” you said as you took a seat, Aegon instantly joining your side, “So are you also hiding from all our visitors?”

“You caught me,” Aegon said, a laugh on his lips as he held his hands up in mock defence, “Too many people for my liking,”

“They’re all here for you,” you said, glancing over at him and trying not to stare, “Everyone here wants even a moment in your ear and you’re hiding in the trees with a random lady,”

Aegon smiled gently, a rare sight in the recent times since tensions grew high as he argued with his mother over his future betrothment, “You’re not just some lady. besides id rather hide in the trees with just you than pretend to care about the strangers in there,”

you couldn’t help flush at his words. no one else would believe you if you told them how sweet Aegon could be. how his words could sound like the came right out a dream. you heard all the rumours about him at court and you wondered how they could get him so wrong. this was the Aegon you knew, “You flatter me my prince,”

“I just wish to speak the truth my lady,” he said as he kept his eyes on yours longer than a friend would. sadly, you both cringed when you heard guards start to yell Aegon’s name across the gardens, “I suppose mother noticed my absence. I have to go my lady,” Aegon said as he stood, you instantly standing as well, already missing his presence despite him being here, “I’ll see you tomorrow my lady,” Aegon said, bowing lightly before turning to leave.

“Goodbye Aegon,” you said making him pause for a moment as his guards waved him to hurry over.

“Save a dance for me?” he asked suddenly, a hopeful smile on those precious lips.

you couldn’t help your grin. “It would be an honour my prince,” you said as Aegon turned to run off to his guards before more trouble could be caused.

you weren’t sure why his question had made you so giddy, but you couldn’t get the prince out your mind the whole evening or even the morning of the ball. Heleana had even commented on your bubbly nature throughout the day. you spent the morning getting ready with the princess, briefly being interrupted by Alicent stopping by to drop off a list of suitable matches for you and Heleana.

when the ball came around your eyes only looked for Aegon, however. usually, you were able to sit closer to the royals but tonight you joined your family at a regular table while those you served sat at the top of the hall, a separate table for Viserys and all his children and grandchildren. it was a rare sight to see Rhaenyra or even her children at court but even you could admit Jacaerys was an easy sight on the eyes.

the girls at your table spent the whole time of the meal discussing the lords in attendance, many times did Jace name be brought up. you had only met the boy once and you never had much chance to speak but still everyone wanted to hear what you had to say. as the feast drew to an end and the music began to speed up you noticed all the sweaty palmed minor lords stand from their tables and make their way to suitable ladies.

those from the greater houses usually took slightly longer to arise from their chairs, scouting out their potential dance partners more carefully. however, the girls at your table fell silent when they noticed the prince stand at the high table however it was not the prince you had hoped would approach your table. you did your best to seem casual, but you could not help your nerves as you noticed that Jace was heading towards your table.

“My lady,” he said, and you felt your eyes widen when you realise, he was speaking to you, “Would you care for a dance?”

“With you?” you said, instantly putting your foot in your mouth as your cousin jabbed you in the ribs with her elbows.

you almost sighed in relief when he began to chuckle lightly, “If it pleases you, my lady,” he said, extending his hand out for you to take.

your eyes glanced towards the high table as you gently took his hand however it was not Alicent’s firm gaze that scared you but rather Aegon’s blank one. surely, he must care you were dancing with his nephew instead of him? your mind was drawn back to your dance partner however as he led you to the ballroom floor.

you noticed how calloused his hands were as they gently held your hand however you could only think about Aegon’s soft ones from your last dance. “You look radiant tonight my lady,”

“Thank you, my prince,” you said but he was not your prince. your prince was glaring daggers into his wine cup right now. your prince did not hold your waist so tightly or step on your toes with an apologetic smile.

you were grateful when the dance ended. you knew it was pig-headed of you, but you did not want to dance another dance unless it was with Aegon. however, you knew you could not reject the lords who approached, and the numbers increased when they had seen the princes interest. with each dance you had you noticed Aegon sink further into his wine, and you noted all the girls he had turned down with a wave of his hand.

the night had grown on long and you were desperate to leave but as another lord whose house you could not even remember approached you felt a rough hand grab your lower arm. “I’m afraid I must borrow my lady,” Aegon said sharply from where he stood behind you to the now stuttering lord, “My lady,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper but telling you everything you had to know as Aegon sharply led you to the corridor.

“What’s wrong my prince?” you asked, your eyes darting back to the ballroom wondering if your absence had been noted by the queen yet.

“What’s wrong?” he said, his eyes wide and his breath smelling of wine, “Why don’t you tell me my lady? tell me did you enjoy the attention?”

“Aegon I- “

“Im sure you must’ve loved it. the future king spinning you around for all to see,” he said as he shook his head, walking away from you further into the corridor.

“That’s not fair,” you said, crossing your arms and refusing to move as Aegon whipped his head around, waiting for you to follow him but you stayed firm, “I could hardly reject him in front of everyone,”

“Please I saw the way you were smiling,” Aegon said, approaching you suddenly. you felt the hairs stand up on your skin, but you knew he wouldn’t hurt you. “Or are you telling me it was all an act?”

“Of course, it was an act, I hardly know the man,” you said, your arms flying out in frustration. “Its not my fault he asked me first,”

“Please,” Aegon scoffed turning to walk away but this time you stepped forward, grabbing his shoulder roughly and spinning him back around, “Hey!”

“Don’t you hey me!” you said, not caring how loud your voice was, “You do not get to be mad at me. I waited for you to ask, and you didn’t. I waited and waited, and you never came and asked. not once. it’s not my fault other men could be arsed to get up and you couldn’t,” you said, tears welling in your eyes. when Aegon tried to speak you just held your hand up and kept spewing out the words you had been holding back, “the whole night I waited Aegon. even your brother asked me before you did. you ask me to save you a dance? well I did but you never came to claim it not once,”

By now Aegon was hanging his head in what you thought was either shame or guilt or some mix of it all. you paused, waiting for him to speak as your chest heaved as you caught your breath, “Do you know how much it hurts to see you dance with him?” Aegon said but this time it was him that did not let you speak, “Or any other lord? I see the way they look at you. I see how you smile and laugh and twirl around the dance floor. seeing you out there, dancing with him of all people it hurts,” Aegon said, his voice bordering on yelling but luckily the music washed out his words to those in the hall, “You should be dancing with me. you should be sat beside me. not as my sister’s lady but as mine,” Aegon said, his eyes desperate and voice shaky, “I don’t want to dance another dance with anyone, but you so forgive me if I don’t like to see you pressed up against someone else,”

“I was just dancing,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, “but each dance I wished it was you holding me,”

“Do you mean it?” Aegon asked as he stepped closer, his hand reaching out as his eyes roamed your face for some kind of cruel trick.

you smiled at Aegon as you stepped closer, your hand reaching for his and holding it softly in your own hand, “I still owe you a dance,” you said softly as you gazed into his lilac eyes, “and you are the only man I wish to dance with tonight,”

Aegon smiled softly, his other hand moving to your waist to pull you in against his chest, “Then we shall dance,” he said as he began to lead you despite the music being so far away now.

“Surely we should go back to the hall,” you said but it came out as a giggle as Aegon began to spin you.

“No,” he said as he effortlessly danced with you in the empty corridor, “I want a moment for just us. we’ll find our own music to dance to,”

“I’d like that,” you said as your steps slowed as Aegon’s head slowly dipped down. your dancing stopped as your lips reached up to slowly capture his. his kiss was soft and tender as his hands moved to hold your waist. you weren’t sure how long it lasted but you wished it was a lifetime as you parted, your forehead resting on his, “We should really go back,” you whispered against his lips.

“Okay,” he whispered back despite knowing being around to here, “But only if you return as my guest and mine alone,”

You smiled against his lips, “I’d love to my prince,”

Aegon, under the guise of weighty cups and half-mast eyes, slides beside you, following your gaze as you appraised the entrance of the Strong bastards into the courtyard.

"Are you sure about this, sister?"

"Does wine taste like heaven under grandsire's scolding, brother?"

Aegon snorts. As your twin, the difference between the two of you are more stark than people might think. Though you share the childish, almost babe like features that usually got women to bow down to Aegon— with your doe eyes, the soft cheeks, and the curled pout — where people think Aegon is a horrible mess of a git, your shared grandsire the forefront of this slander, you are quite the opposite. Beloved, dutiful, and innocent in the eyes of many.

It didn't matter that you wore green as prettily as your mother, or that your twin is a mess of wine and women— you were different. You were kind, pretty, and enticing.

A precious flower among green thorns, the smallfolk whispered.

People had even commiserated how, despite the typical Valyrian looks of silver-gold hair and lilac eyes, your Hightower lineage softened your edges. Your looks.

Your personality.

Snort.

"You know Aemond would rather see you insult the little bastard in half, than whatever it is that you are thinking of doing."

You hum as you don't remove your gaze from the dark haired prince, making jokes with his younger brother, Lucerys. From the corner of the courtyard, you and your twin could see Aemond sparring with Ser Criston with more vigour than he usually did, especially at the time of day. Occasionally, he spared the younger Strong bastard a glance that spoke of trying to unearth his insides from his body, no doubt imagining the very same as he swung his blade.

Aegon and you shared a look, stifling laughter, before you focused back on your prey. Jacaerys Velaryon. A name he uses like a shield despite having not a single drop of the sea in his blood. All you had to do was look at the dark hair, the skin and the nose of the First of Men before him.

How your half-sister Rhaenyra can say he was a Velaryon with a straight face is beyond you.

Your gaze might be searing as Jace looks up at the balcony from where you had been idly staring at him for the better half of the time, and you give him a wry sort of smile. A soft sort of smile. An acknowledgement. Just as he makes a nod of hesitant acknowledgement— unlike your brothers, you had not join in on the hostility and mean-spirited comments — you had already turned fully to Aegon as if you are enraptured by conversation.

"It's a contingency plan, my darling Aeg," you say softly as you brush the back of your hand to his face. You are aware of Jace's gaze now focused on you and your twin and you make it good for him. You make a performance. You follow the steps you've practiced so eagerly.

And eager for your soft touch, Aegon's eyes flutter in response. Ever since you were young, and seeing how harsh everyone is of Aegon and his failures, you decided you would be the kindness to him.

Though you do like him, another contingency plan for him wouldn't be so bad, would it? After all, you can bet on a lot of things, but your grandsire's award-winning thirst for power and your mother's malady to anxieties are good tidings to see them planting Aegon on the throne and usurping everything from your dearest, oldest sister.

Aeg didn't need to know that, of course.

What he can know and what he can help with, is making sure Jacaerys was looking as you smiled softly at your brother, your gold and silver spun hair bathed in morning light, and in one of your favourite dresses— a white silver dress lined with black lace and green embroidery of dragons — you were angelic personified. The Maiden come to gather and soothe your dearest brother.

You capture Aegon's face in your hands, ever soft, ever sweet, as you smile at him. He's so deprived of physical touch that doesn't harm him that he sighs against your palms. You do feel a little bad, but you need this plan to work.

"I am going to make him bow to me, brother," you whisper, giving him a soft kiss to his temple. He shudders, hands placing them on your waist, enunciating the kind curves you sport. "Mark my words, that boy king will stifle under my hand and foot. Mother's fears will not come to fruition. All will be well."

"I am older than you," he says softly, half smiling.

A gaze sears at the side of your face, as strong as the concussive heat radiating off a dragon's maw as your thumb brushes across your twin's cheek.

There is that, you think amusedly. No one can deny the little heir is his mother's child. Bastard he maybe.

"And I am better," you whisper, snickering.

"That you are." But his gaze is past you, back at the courtyard, at the reason for the heat in your skin. A spark of jealousy is quick in his mulish blue eyes but you only laugh. Light but loud, echoing.

"Come," you say with finality, taking a step back and offering your hand as you make the conscious choice of not daring even a peripheral glance, and heading back inside the keep. "We shall see them at dinner. The king's orders."

Your brother makes a sound crossbred from a huff and a groan, and you are already making plans to ensure his wine is controlled for the night, lest he makes a fool of himself in front of the King— or gods forbid, your grandsire — and mayhaps ensure the seating arrangement once again with your mother.

But everthing else is background noise; your schemes and your plots, your facades and faces, because a faux Velaryon has made it known that he cannot keep his gaze away from you.

Everything else is moot.

Jacaerys Velaryon, firstborn son of Rhaenyra Targaryen, soon to be Heir to the Iron Throne and Prince of Dragonstone, does not understand himself.

Perhaps you are just eye-catching. Your hair is more gold than silver, but it shifts like a mirage against sunlight. You yourself seem to change under shadows and light, as if you're casting a new spell again and again. Your eyes, your lips, the slivers of presented skin (have you really shown this much skin, all this time?), and your hips.

They sway, like a panther's.

Like a dragon's.

Jace has always known you to be pretty; Helaena has always been his favourite aunt with the fact that she's quiet and doesn't antagonise him like your brothers. Because Helaena simply cared little for him not because he was Rhaenyra's son, or that he didn't look like his father, or because he was a prince of the realm set to become heir once his mother was crowned.

Helaena simply just didn't care about him as a human not as hisn ame or his blood, her thoughts lingering more in her bugs and the fat babes she had with her brother, humming nonsensical under her breath. Not insults.

You were different. You looked. Jace knew you looked but he had never caught you before. It's a dance, he later realises come dawn he is awoken and there is a weight on top of him in rings of gold and silver, breathing softly— alive and so very warm, and from that moment, his — but for now he doesn't know.

Doesn't understand.

Your gaze is weighty, leaving searing imprints like a dragon marking it's favourite horde. But it's so hard to catch.

It started at the training grounds. As if his Uncle Aemond's wasn't enough, there was yours. He knew but could only see once, and even that felt like it was deliberate, a mere nod. As if you controlled how he worked around your sphere, and by gods, were you beautiful. Then you had turned to your twin brother as if he was nothing to you— really, he was, in the scheme of things, you were the secondborn daughter of the Queen, no matter how pretty your visage or blood is, you are a woman and a third child (right after the firstborn daughter and son), and in the other end, Jacaerys was the first son and heir of the Princess of Dragonstone, soon to be Queen. In fact, you should be nothing to him.

He was to become King, and you to be offered to a lord. To be someone's wife, to relinquish your surname and become someone's mother. Rear your new lord husband countless of babes and live your life having fulfilled your sole duty.

It is a fact that tasted brittle and bitter in his tongue, like soot and ash, and he doesn't understand it. You had crossed his mind, idle as it maybe, from time to time, but nothing concrete. You are pretty, you are kind, mischievous at times, playful, and you purposefully don't keep him long in your orbit.

You were just another aunt. Aegon's Twin Flame.

Misbegotten to not even marry your brother.

It was at dinner that night, amongst clinking goblets and fat foods spilling the edges of the table, his grandsire having arrived, even Aegon, rumpled hair and sunken eyes but dressed and suspiciously sober— and you, your mother's favourite, her most affectionate daughter, late.

"Where is she?" Jacaerys heard the Lord Hand asked, but the Queen had no reply, as confused.

And then you arrive, not ten more minutes later, and Jace's entire body had locked.

Though he did not know why or what, he knew you were up to something. You arrived in a new dress from this afternoon— close to it's style, nothing like the Queen's or Helaena's, conservative high necks and pious ever green— no, you came as a surprise with a flutter of a silken hand and an embarrassed laugh, tipping to your father a kiss on the side of his good face.

Even as you sat, it took a good, long while before the chatter would arose again (from your gracious laugh at your father's compliment no less), before everyone's eyes— even Criston Cole's, ever loyal rat — would lift from your visage.

You were ethereal, simply put, in a dress that is not of pious ever green or high collar trim; but in a flutter of what Jacaerys remembers as his mother's gown when she was pregnant with Aegon, and the days got too hot. When the babe inside her, made of pure dragon, had made her a furnace burning from the inside out.

It was the same lightweight material draped over your skins, a thin material bunched up several times so it is not too sheer. Not too inappropriate. Jace doesn't know what the fabric is, doesn't care to, but it looks like flowing water against your body. It moulds to your movements. Your shape is obvious, so are the expose arms, collarbones, your chest dipping low, too low sometimes when you lean over and laugh, eyes alight— Jace's eyes cannot stay away, they are glued to your necklace, to the top of your smooth breasts — and the dress is held together in links of golden dragons, your hair made up in braids, in pearls and small emeralds, with curled strays framing your cheeks and smile, your exposed neck.

It was meant to garner looks, compliments.

But it was the colour that Jacaerys knew it was meant for him.

At the centre of your chest— your bosom that dips, two mounds, so soft looking and the urge to reach over and press his fingers down, see how soft and pliant you really are, hear the kind of noises you make, in pain or pleasure, his thoughts make him hiss, tightening his hold on his wine, pinching nails to skin to ground himself — it starts off a darken green, shifting, blending to a winter green, a bluer green, a seafoam that he is more than familiar with, before escaping the edges in deep water blue.

The colour of his father's house had never looked so good, so charming, so sinful before.

He tears his eyes away from you because it is improper to be staring so, to be looking at you and feel like he is feasting when he is rooted in his chair and still so hungry, especially with the plans of betrothal with Baela, his mother had already asked him if she is ever in his thoughts.

Baela who sits beside him, ramrod straight and keen-eyed, respectable Targaryen lady, a confidant and a good friend. She would make a good queen in the future, he had thought so before. Respectable and fearsome, the best parts of his stepfather and the late Lady Laena.

He shakes his head, swallowing down his slice of veal before he kicks Luke's leg under the table.

His brother yelps, a mournful irritated sound for his eyes had ogled far longer (just like he, but would never admit) on you than was proper, reminding him, and yet when you look up at the sound, your eyes— have they ever been so violet? — lands on him. Again.

When your gazes meet, he is enraptured, but he clears his throat and nods. "You look good, aunt." And because he cannot step, because his thoughts are cloudy and you are looking at him as if you know he can't stop looking at you, as if you can read each filthy thought he tries to stifle, as if you like it, he continues, "The sea green is a nice colour on you."

He can feel eyes on him, even the Lord Hand's. Even Aegon, goblet pressed against his lips, hiding a smirk. He burns, but he doesn't burn as bright when your smile stretches, your lids lower, and he burns so bright he fears he might be on fire.

The flames are licking him and he does not mind, so long as you keep your gaze.

"Thank you, nephew," you hum. "That is so very sweet of you to say."

And Jacaerys blushes, coughing once when he notices his lady mother giving him a look. Knowing. Curious but not probing, not yet. What he doesn't notice is the Queen's perceptive frown as she gazes at her daughter, the Lord Hand's raised eyebrow, or Aegon trying so very hard to stifle his laughter, turning to Helaena as if he is saying something to her.

But what Jacaerys does see is Aemond's intense glare, sharpened and rekindled and suspicious, and Daemon... The Rogue Prince is eyeing you differently. No longer just another Targaryen bleeding Hightower green, no longer just another offspring of the Hightower cunt.

No, Jace can almost see inside his stepfather's brain and see the Valyrian looks. The body of a woman freshly sloughed off the body of a child.

You are pretty and young and Daemon Targaryen is looking at you.

It shocks Jace how much he despises it.

It is for my mother, his thought persists even as he looks at you again and his insides whirl. I am upset for my mother.

Daemon Targaryen can see plainly what you are doing.

You've always hated that about men with good insight, who do not care for what is between your legs, only for your actions. For what it might do for what he cares about.

And Daemon cares for Rhaenyra, for Viserys, for the Targaryen legacy, pure and untainted.

(As if the blood of the First Men is okay to bastardise his bloodline but gods forbid the oldest and greatest of the Great Houses).

And he is now looking at you as if he has noticed the steps and webs you have spun around for his stepson, the direct legacy, and he is amused.

The dinner comes to a conclusion to a small dancing, and your twin, dutiful to you and your orders you had told him as you cleaned and prepared him for dinner; stood up, brushed himself off, and politely asked Baela for a dance— the latter looking so surprised he was fully sober, much less asking for her hand — that she found no excuse, and reluctantly accepted as they pivoted to the centre.

As Daemon continues to look at you, to unravel you as if you are an enemy in a battle map, you stand up quickly and turn to Aemond, smile wide and fake.

Jacaerys won't ask you to dance. He had drawn looks with his compliment, suspicion. Grandsire was right, they are planning to marry him off to Baela to strengthen their cause. Jace will not entertain anything anymore publicly.

Duty bound, honour bound.

But, but, but.

you are not a fool, you know men and their pissing contests. You are a daydream hiding a nightmare.

For the past few minutes, he had noticed Daemon's inquisitive, amused appraisal of you, and his brown eyes (pretty for a bastard's; Ser Harwin's lashes must have been long) had burned a different fire and it gives you an idea, an exhale of relief.

Jealousy can salvage anything.

You just need to push him.

And Aemond is beautiful, a true Valyrian King in visage, the Warrior come alive. You look so much softer when you are beside him.

"Sister?" Aemond looks up at you, curious, confused since the beginning of the night. There is a plot he isn't privy to, and he has been spearing glances at you, at Aegon, at his grandsire just in case he knew anything.

You were unmarried while Aegon had married Helaena. Your time is coming, and he loathes the idea of a betrothal to the Strong Bastard. He had made his complaints known when the missive came from your sister, asking sweet Helaena's hand for your son thinking your mother would have surely betrothed you to your twin.

Neither side knowing you had almost sent back your name, offering your hand.

"It has been a while since you had asked me to dance, little brother," you say, hands behind your back, framing yourself soft and playful. There are so many gazes on you, you play with it well.

"I was ten and one then, mandia sister, a boy."

"Too long," you tease. "Kessa ao daor lilagon lēda aōha mandia, valonqar? Will you not dance with your sister, little brother?"

He hums, acquiescing easily, and standing up. You peel a laughter that attracts a chuckle from the king. This is how you dance around the palm of Viserys I. Men like it when you play a part. Not to cost trouble, not to step over the line.

You aren't the elder sister, the firstborn child. You are means to further a line, not to have any important position. Rhaenyra is the exception only from the womb that bore her. You, like Helaena, are likened to fall in line and act like you like it. Like being a fat, old lord's wife has always been your dream. Bear his babes and suffer the trauma of hanging your life in the balance to produce them into the world.

It makes you burn with rage most days.

"What are you doing, mandia sister?" Aemond whispers against your cheek after having brought you close, dancing through the steps swiftly, keenly. It truly is a shame that Aemond doesn't dance oft.

"Won't you just believe and put your faith in the sister that you adore?" you snipe playfully. It's easy to use Aemond's hair to hide the glance you drop Jacaerys and see the seething glare he burns through your baby brother's head. Lust, yearn, jealousy— they dance and cook in his gaze. You giggle despite yourself.

"Grandsire will not allow you to marry that bastard," Aemond hums, unable to hide his irritation. You roll your eyes. Clever little brothers.

"As much love as I can grasp from my heart for our grandsire, valonqar, I am a dragon. I will take what I want. A tower is nothing to dragonfire. Grandsire oft forgets I am a princess of the realm and he is only a lord." You step back and bow as the song ends, as your father tires and wishes to go to bed. He only stays this long, or even leaves his chambers, when Rhaenyra decides to deign Kings Landing with her presence.

Always more for the heir. More effort, more love, more care.

And what is left for the other daughters of Viserys I?

He remembers Helaena's existence less, and if you do not make it a point to visit him everyday— to entertain him, read to him, laugh at being mistaken for Rhaenyra — you are sure you will be nothing more than a faint dream to him.

Your anger licked dark and green. Inside, it rages.

You watch as Jacaerys Velaryon says something to his mother, a rushed farewell, an excuse— a press of your fingers against your lips as you catch his breeches are tight, that his jaw is clenched — you step closer to Aemond once more, Aegon now drifting away from Baela and back into your orbit.

"Don't worry, little brother, I do not actually desire the Strong bastard. I want his crown."

Aegon giggles breathlessly, eyeing as Aemond's eye widen a fraction before he composes himself. "And what do you need now, sister, to accomplish such a beguilingly easy task?" Aegon snorts softly. There is only a faint scent of alcohol on him. You take it as win. "He's like a green boy from a quick flash of your chest. What more your tits in full display?" He leans close, mean and adorable. "You do not want a husband who is too quick for your own pleasure."

You swat his arm, pinching the soft flesh of his stomach before Aemond fully throttles him.

"Watch your tongue," Aemond hisses, fists clenching.

"It is okay. I take no offense, he is just being silly to rile you up," you placate him, pulling your twin closer to you just as Helaena approaches, shuffling close to your other side, burying her head against your collarbone. You hum, letting her quietly choose which physical affection she can take from you.

The four Green children, missing one. Scales of the dragon they may have, green fire burning from their maws. The four Green children, miss one. Sons and daughters of Viserys I. Nothing more than wombs and seeds for his legacy.

You finally turn to Daemon's probing stare and you keep it. "Keep his family away from him," you whisper to your siblings. You do not care if he understands. At this point, even your grandsire may have an idea for your plots.

And for the crown, for his lineage, no ambition is too small.

If he can send your mother to an old, grieving man after he had butchered his first wife, what ease it is to send a granddaughter willing to dance a scandal?

"I need him alone tonight."

You do not come to him immediately, more than knowing what he is doing. Maegor's Holdfast is a fun little place, with its secrets and tunnels. You had already studied the path to his apartments beforehand, and you are there, against the hidden way, hearing him fuck his fist to the vision of you, your name dripping and spitting from his pretty red lips.

You catching him after the high, chest up and down breathing hard. There is a self-loath, a disgust. You can just read his thoughts. When you enter, he is alarmed, a sword in his hand, guarded replaced to shock at the sight of you.

"Aunt," he whispers, appalled. Lustful. Righteous.

You tilt your head, unsmiling. You guard your thoughts as you approach, hands behind your back, voice soft. "Do you always reach to completion with my name in your tongue, nephew, or is today an exception?"

Jacaerys Velaryon flinches, sword hand dipping. "I—"

You are close, a hair's breadth away. Amusingly, he is struggling with himself. His honour in one hand, his desire in another. He wants to leap away from you and pull you close.

His choice is still open.

You answer for him.

"Would you like to know whose name falls from my lips when I reach completion?" you whisper against his lips. So close but still so far. Your fists are clenched behind your back, nails drawing blood. You cannot fail now. The Rogue Prince might be wandering now, ready to yank you or kill you.

You are a viper in a vipper's nest, and Daemon Targaryen is too late to realise you only want one true victim.

Jacaerys is drawn, the shock of your words melting to make way for the flutter of his eyes and the full shudder of his body as you lick a strip across his bottom lip, staining him.

Break yourself for me, Strong Boy, you think as he opens his eyes and stares at your lips. Break your oaths, your promises.

"Whose?" he asks, voice hoarse.

The surrender is at the hands he has brought first to your hips before he rose it slowly up and up, until his warm palms cupped your jaw, your face, swallowed in his hold. It is a delight to know his hands are bigger than your face, that he is told to tower over you. A boy king grown.

"Yours."

He groans but does not let you go. "I am betrothed."

You still. Such a Good, Strong Boy, resisting until the very fucking end. "I have not heard of such announcements, nephew."

"Mother will announce soon."

"Is that what you want then?" You grip his hands and stride forward until your are chest to chest. Until he can feel every outline of your body against his, until you can feel the hard line of his manhood against your stomach. Until he feels his own body breaking his oath.

"Please, Jace," you whisper, you beg. Your eyes begin to water. "I want you to take me... Only you. I have longed for you for so long. Your mother— my sister betrothed you to me first." He leans back, surprise flitting. "Yes, my love. But my mother had refused. I— I thought you would see it nevertheless. The affection in my gaze, the smile I give only to you. That I am offering my heart, my soul, my body to you. Only to you, Jacaerys."

Your tears are running down now, your voice so soft and so desperate. Where lust had clouded him, it is now tinged with a flattered adoration.

Men are so simple. Boys far simpler.

"I thought you knew," you say at last in a voice as broken as your heart. You take his hands away and step back. He grasps but you turn away, a sob wracks from your chest as fake as when you were a child, trying not to get in trouble with your mother so she can fire the septa that you hated. She had sneered at Aegon's drunken folly and was disgusted by Aemond's fresh wound.

You wanted her gone.

"Aunt, I—"

"It is alright," you cut him off. You turn back slightly, your smile watery, your gaze to the floor. "Aegon did not choose me either, unlovable as I am. Men only want me for my body and nothing more. I-I'll leave you be. Good night—"

You never finish your spiel because he had yanked you, hard, against him, his lips moving against yours— clumsily, not enough practice but aggressive in its desire — pressing you against him as if he is trying to swallow you whole.

Jacaerys is not bowing, not yet. But that night with his seed warm and full inside your womb, his body encased against your own, tightening whenever you made a movement, as if in fear any step you take away from him would slip you so freely from his fingers— his mouth, his lips, bruised by your own making, pressing featherlight soft against the side of your head, your hair — it is not too soon to think the boy king will bend the knee to you and only you.

And maybe the babe you bear him, but there is no need to rush. These steps are delicate but sure.

After all, he has only just cemented the thought that he will whisk you both to Dragonstone at first light, a traditional Old Valyrian wedding.

He will bow soon enough.

For now, you will enjoy your glowing win.

warnings: language, explicit p in v, fingering, praise, nipple play, oral (fem receiving), spanking, kissing, angst, fluff, crying

note: and there were have it! the ending of my summer series. I hope you all enjoy, and thank you THANK YOU for all the support and love! I couldn't have done it without you all ❤️

dividers by the lovely @firefly-graphics

as always, comments, reblogs & likes are appreciated but not expected ❤️

The week goes by, and no matter how tightly you try to hold onto them, the days slip through your fingers like sand—swimming with Baela, visiting with Sara and Cregan at work, and causing mischief with Aegon and Helaena. Helping Luke, visiting Rhaenyra and little Visenya at Dragonstone, shopping downtown with Floris, and spending hours curled up with Aemond at the end of each day.

It’s not enough. 

You’re with Aemond now in the living room of the Targaryen-Hightower home the night before the regatta watching a movie. Well, you suppose you were watching a movie a little while ago, but then Aemond put his hand on your thigh and one thing led to another. The movie is still playing but you’re straddling Aemond’s waist, arms wrapped around his neck, his hands pressed on your lower back molding you to him as he kisses the life out of you. 

You’re not sure how long you’ve been making out, you’ve just been enjoying the uninterrupted time alone. The feeling of his hands caressing you, squeezing you closer. His talented mouth molded against yours, tongue slipping into your mouth as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss. 

Your phone vibrates, breaking the spell, and Aemond grabs it for you. It’s Sara calling, her picture filling the entirety of the screen. You’d taken it earlier in the week; she’s resting her cheek on her hand leaning across the bar at the Wolf Den. Leaning back you decline the call before tossing it onto the couch. 

Aemond’s hands slide down to your waist, cupping your ass as you grind against him, capturing his lips in another heated kiss. Your phone continues to buzz on the couch, but the two of you ignore it this time, too wrapped up in each other to care. One of Aemond’s hands trails up your back before resting on the back of your neck, fingers flexing slightly against the sides of your throat. 

A shiver ripples down your spine and you tighten your arms around his neck. Sara must have ceased her attempts to reach you, as your phone has gone silent. From somewhere upstairs a door opens, followed by the soft pitter-patter of footsteps.

“AHEM!” Helaena’s voice calls from the top of the stairs. You pull away from Aemond’s mouth--an incredibly hard feat. “I am coming down the stairs! If there are any body parts out that a sister shouldn’t be seen I advise them to be put away!”

You push against Aemond’s chest as he brings his lips to caress the skin of your jaw down to your neck, just below your ear. You wiggle against his grip, his hands digging into the meat of your ass trying to keep you on his lap. It’s no use, you can’t get off unless he lets you.

“Aemond-”

“No,” he growls, nipping your earlobe, “You’re staying right here.”

“Helaena will scream.”

“It’s not like my cock’s inside you,” he teases, smirking as your eyes widen, “Unless-”

“Not now,” you hiss, cheeks heating up at the thought.

“Later then?” he says cheekily. 

You don’t answer, just roll your eyes at him as Helaena’s footsteps come down the stairs. Her eyes are squeezed shut, a slight grimace on her face.

“Are you decent?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“Mostly,” Aemond answers, and she opens her eyes. 

“Sara called,” she says, holding her phone out, “Mandatory gathering. End-of-summer tradition.”

“We don’t have end-of-summer traditions,” Aemond argues.

“We’re making one then,” Helaena insists. 

“What are we doing?” you ask.

Helaena moves further into the living room, plopping down on a comfy-looking leather chair. 

“Camping on the beach,” she tells you, “Cregan and Sara will be there, Egg, Luke, Jace, Bae, and Rae. It’ll be nice. Boost Luke’s morale before the regatta.”

“You’re down for this?” you ask Aemond, and he shrugs.

“I suppose.”

“You don’t seem like a roughing-it sort of guy,” you tease, fingers running through his hair. 

Aemond brings his hand down across your left asscheek, harshly spanking you. You let out a surprised squeal as he massages the tender skin through your shorts. It stings but sends a delicious wave of want directly to your center. Helaena frowns. 

“On that note, I am going to vomit,” she says, dramatically sighing as she gets up, “Be there tonight! And bring your own tent! I am not sharing with you two.”

Helaena retreats up the stairs and you shake your head at Aemond. 

“You’re impossible,” you tell him, and then he kisses you once more, and any thoughts of reprimanding him slip from your mind.

“I know how to build a fucking fire-” Aegon grumbles, fiddling with the logs you’d collected for the firepit. 

You’d all spent the evening setting up the tents and collecting firewood. Needless to say, you were all significantly hungry and waiting anxiously for the fire to start so you could roast some hotdogs and marshmallows. A summer feast. 

“You’re doing it wrong-” Helaena tells him, for the fifth time. 

“Fucking drench the bitch!” Aegon says, grabbing the bottle of lighter fluid from Helaena, and squeezing a thick stream of liquid onto the logs.

“You’re gonna blow us up---” Helaena cautions as Aegon lights several lit matches before tossing them into the fire pit. The logs and paper burst into flames instantly, flames licking upwards sending sparks flying into the night sky. 

“Dracarys!!” Aegon yells, maniacally laughing, and ignoring Helaena’s scolding.

A wave of heat rushes over you as the fire continues to blaze. You lean back against Aemond, shielding your face from the heat before the fire calms. Baela reaches into her backpack, tossing you a package of marshmallows.

“Can’t camp without s’mores,” she says.

“Or beer,” Aegon counters, before drumming on the cooler he brought.

“Can someone open these?” Sara asks, struggling with the package of hotdogs. 

Luke helps her, though he’s been quiet all evening. Jace told you earlier when helping with your tent that he’s been really nervous the past couple of days. He sits now across the fire from you, his knee bouncing uncontrollably. 

As you begin to roast marshmallows, Rhaena speaks up. “Let’s play a game,” she says, turning her hotdog on the fire. 

“What game?” Aegon asks.

“Never have I ever?”

“Fucking ace.”

“I’ll start!” Baela says, a mischievous grin on her face, “First to five loses. Never have I ever been arrested.”

Aegon scowls at her as he assembles his s’more, putting one of his fingers down. “Never have I ever….shit this is hard.”

You all laugh and the game continues. Aegon inevitably loses first which sends all of you into fits of hysterical laughter. You all stay around the campfire just talking, and sharing stories. It’s nice and makes you feel warm with love for everyone there. You lean against Aemond, feeling his arm tighten around you. You feel like you could stay like this forever. You wish you could. 

You don’t retire to your tent until the fire is nothing more than a pile of embers, sending tendrils of gray smoke curling toward the sky. Aegon didn’t bring a tent, insisting he wanted to sleep under the stars. But you noticed he didn’t protest when Sara offered to share hers. Cregan had raised an eyebrow at that but said nothing. 

You could hear giggling from everyone’s tents, low whispers, and rustling sleeping bags. The small noises were rather comforting, knowing everyone was around you and happy. Aemond entered your tent, zipping it shut behind him, leaving no screen exposed except the roof so you could look up at the stars. 

You still haven’t talked with him.

Aemond lays next to you on top of the sleeping bags, reaching an arm out and pulling you flush against him. Without thinking, your mouths find each other in the darkness, and suddenly you’re kissing him trying to quell the intense ache of need deep inside of you. You wonder if you’ll always feel like this for him. Just needy. It’s never enough with Aemond. You always crave more. 

Aemond rolls onto his back, pulling you on top of him. The tent is small but big enough that your head doesn’t press against the screen of the ceiling. His hands wander down your sides, before creeping up under your t-shirt, thumbs caressing the hardened peaks of your nipples. He pinches them, lightly tugging until you gasp against his mouth. 

“Shhh,” he says, kissing you, “You gotta be quiet baby, someone will hear.” As he says it, he lets one hand slip lower, under the waistband of your shorts, “Fuck you’re soaked already.”

“I can’t help it,” you whisper into his mouth, earning a soft groan from him, “What did you say about being quiet?”

Aemond chuckles at your teasing, rubbing slow circles around your clit with his thumb, fingers teasing your entrance. You grind your hips down, trying to help him get the hint. As he kisses you once more, you can feel his smirk and know he’s playing with you.

“You want me to beg?” you ask breathlessly, the stimulation on your clit making your head buzz.

“Maybe,” Aemond teases, “I like when you beg.”

“If I start, they’ll hear me all the way at Dragonstone,” you tell him, feeling your cheeks burn with the admission. 

Aemond is pleased with that response it seems, as he sinks two lengthy digits inside you, crooking them upwards against your spongy walls. You bite your lip, trying to hold in a whimper. Successfully, it comes out as a quiet whine. Aemond curls his fingers, finding the rough patch inside you that makes your eyes roll into the back of your head. 

“You….you are way too good at that…” you tell him, suppressing another moan as you shudder on top of him.

Your eyes have adjusted to the low light, and you can make out the features of his face in the starlight. A slash of a smile appears on his handsome face.

“Oh really?” he says in a low, throaty voice, “What else am I good at?”

You swirl your hips on his fingers, desperately riding them as pleasure moves a path up your spine and fire pools in your lower belly. 

“Fishing for compliments?” you tease as he lets a third finger stretch you out, “Oh fuck…”

“Shhhh…fuck you’re so tight,” Aemond murmurs, as you clench around his fingers, “Need to feel this perfect pussy wrapped around my cock baby.”

You can hear the wet sounds his fingers make sliding in and out of your soaked pussy, and feel the slickness on your inner thighs. 

“Yeah, you wanna cum baby?” he murmurs, kissing you softly, “I’ll make you cum pretty girl, that’s it, …that’s good isn’t it?”

“Fuck it feels so good,” you whimper against his mouth, “Fuck Aemond, make me cum please.”

Your release tightens in your belly as he applies just the right amount of pressure on your clit to send you tumbling over the edge. Your pussy constricts his fingers in a vice and Aemond brings his free hand to your waist, flipping you onto your back as your orgasm begins to peak. 

His fingers are still inside of you as he brings his hand to press on your lower stomach and you slam your hand over your mouth to keep from screaming. Aemond’s fingers never relent, and he grins down at your desperation to keep quiet. Your muffled cry is still audible and you desperately hope everyone else is asleep or otherwise occupied to notice. 

Slowly, Aemond removes his fingers, seating himself between your legs and dragging your shorts and underwear the rest of the way off. You wiggle your hips to help him and he tosses the pile of clothing to the opposite end of the tent. You can feel his hot breath on your center before his tongue flattens against you, dragging a slow, tortuous path up your dripping slit. 

“Is this another talent of mine?” he asks, kissing your sensitive clit before wrapping his lips around it and sucking. 

Your hips lurch, your back arching off the ground, your mouth falling open in a silent scream as his tongue caresses your bud. 

“No?” he teases, pulling away, “If you don’t like it I can stop-”

“Yes!” you whisper, “Yes it’s so good, please, please don’t stop--” His mouth is back on you in an instant, tongue lapping at your folds before pressing inside of you. God, it feels so good having his tongue inside of you. The warm, wet muscle works wonders as he hums in appreciation of your praise. 

His hands squeeze your hips, nose bumping against your clit as he eats you out. Your fingers grip his hair holding on for dear life, nails digging into his scalp. You can hear the sounds of him slurping and moaning as he devours you, his large hands moving under your thighs, pressing them backward so your knees touch your chest. 

“Fucking hell,” you whimper, as your legs begin to tremble with the approach of your second release, and Aemond presses his face into you harder. 

You worry for a moment how he can possibly breathe, though that doesn’t seem to be a present concern in his mind as he buries his face in your pussy. Aemond eats you out like it’s the only thing he wants to do for the rest of his life. He moves his face upwards, the cleft of his nose resting perfectly against your clit; it rubs incessantly at the sensitive button and a cry breaks through your lips as you’re thrown into your release. Warmth blooms through your abdomen and down your legs and Aemond squeezes the soft flesh of your thighs tightly as they shake. 

“Gods oh--fuck,” you whimper as he greedily laps at the new wave of wetness that coats your inner thighs. His tongue works its way slowly, leaving no part of you untouched by the talented muscle. 

Aemond places a kiss on your thighs as he releases his hold, and you release a shuddery breath. He chuckles, gently nibbling the tender skin of your inner thighs, before making his way back up towards your mouth. His hands brush the hem of your t-shirt, moving it so he can kiss a path up your stomach. You help him with his task, grabbing the edge and pulling it off, tossing it in the corner with the other forgotten garments. 

Completely bared before him, he sits on his haunches looking at you. Aemond brings one hand to your waist, dragging his fingers along your curves. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, and you reach for him, pulling him into a kiss. 

Your hands tear at his clothes, removing his shirt and pants between exchanges of greedy kisses until he’s resting on top of you, thick length splitting you open and resting deep inside of you. You brush some hair from his forehead, letting your fingers run down the length of his scar. Aemond breathes deeply, not yet moving, just staring longingly into your eyes before he turns, pressing a kiss to the tips of your fingers. 

The sweet action takes your breath away, and Aemond rolls his hips gently, dragging his cock nearly all the way out of you before pushing back in. It’s intimate, it’s lovemaking. Just smooth, slow strokes, unhurried and passionate. 

Aemond buries his face in the crook of your neck, kissing where your throat meets your shoulder. You hold him impossibly close, nails clawing at his back, legs wrapped around his slender waist. Neither of you speaks, there are no words to express the emotions between you at this moment. You know he feels it too, you can feel it in the way he’s making love to you. 

“You close?” Aemond murmurs, letting his hand snake between your bodies to rub at your clit. 

“Yes,” you breathe, and he moves to kiss you once more before he returns his attention to your neck.

“Fuck,” he breathes, trembling on top of you, “You’re so--fucking perfect.”

You can feel your third orgasm cresting, and suddenly you’re clenching around his thick cock, spurring him toward his own release. Aemond shudders as you cum, a breathy whimper leaving him as you feel his cock twitch inside of you followed by a bloom of warmth deep within you. 

He rests on top of you for a moment more, and you hug him tightly against you. As he unsheathes himself from your warmth he kisses your lips, cradling your face in his hands.

Your time is running out. Time with him is slipping through your fingers like sand. Aemond lays beside you on top of his sleeping bag. You turn on your side to face him. Well, here goes nothing.

“Hey,” you begin, and Aemond turns on his side. 

“Hey,” he echoes, bringing a hand to brush some hair out of your face.

His hand lingers, fingers tracing a path behind your ear and down your neck. He has to stop doing that, you can’t think when he’s doing that.

“I think we need to talk-”

“Yeah,” Aemond agrees, fingers continuing their journey across your shoulder and down your arm, “We do.”

The tent suddenly feels even smaller, the sexual tension between you heavy along with the conversation that needs to be had. Aemond’s hand meets yours and laces his fingers through your much smaller ones. 

“I mean….I…” you begin, struggling to find the words.

Aemond is silent, watching you. His thumb smoothes circles on the back of your hand. You meet his eye. 

Oh god.

You can’t do it. 

Not yet. 

“Aemond…”

“After the regatta,” he says softly, a knowing look in his eye, “We’ll talk. Is that okay?” 

A rush of relief rolled through you, and your anxiety calmed for one more night. One more night. Then you’ll face it. You can’t speak, your throat is tight with emotion. You nod, fighting back tears. Aemond releases your hand, bringing it to cup your cheek.

“Hey,” he says softly, wiping a tear that escaped. Dammit. 

You sniffle, the dam inside of you breaking in the safety of the dark. Warm tears roll down your cheeks and Aemond catches each one, wiping them away. He brings his hands to cup your cheeks, angling your face upwards. You feel the warmth of his lips press against your cheeks as he begins to kiss away the tears that won’t stop coming. It’s gentle, it’s sweet…… it's loving. 

“I don’t want to go,” you whisper, and Aemond pulls you into an embrace. 

Aemond is silent for a moment, you can hear the steady drumming of his heart with your ear pressed against his chest. He strokes your hair, holding you close.

“I don’t want you to go,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to the top of your head. 

You stay like that for the rest of the night, not moving from each other’s embrace. 

You’re surprised to see the crowd that’s formed for the King’s Landing Regatta. Hundreds of people fill the stands. All of the boats are lined out in the harbor, waiting for the race to begin. You can spot Seasmoke out in the distance, Jace and Luke already on board. 

“Shit,” Rhaena says, as you’ve just found your seats. Aemond stands beside you, looking out over the crowd. Aegon waves from the distance, nudging Helaena beside him. 

“What?” you ask, watching Rhaena.

“Luke just called,” she tells you. She frowns at her phone. 

“Hey!” Baela says, joining with Sara at her side, “Cregan’s grabbing popcorn.”

“Grab me a churro will you?” Rhaena asks, and you nod as she dashes off to call Luke. 

“I’ll be right back,” you tell your friends, and Aemond nods, “You want anything?”

“I’m good,” he tells you, squeezing your hand before you take off into the crowd. 

The concession stands are easy enough to find, you bump into Floris on the way. She quickly fills you in on some recent drama between Ellyn and Eddie Karstark before heading to her seat. You grab Rhaena’s churro and begin to head back to your friends as it's announced that the race will begin soon.

You hear your name called and turn, meeting the brown eyes of Will Tyrell. He’s clad in boat shoes, an airy blue shirt, and shorts, walking toward you. A golden rose pin rests right over his heart; you’d seen others wearing them in support of him as well. 

“Hey Will,” you greet him, “Shouldn’t you be getting ready?”

“Yeah, I am. Got a dingy ready to take me out,” he assures, “I just saw you and wanted to say something before the race.”

“Okay…”

“I’m so sorry, for Hugh and all that bullshit,” he says, an apologetic look on his face, “Seriously, that was not okay for him to do. Or say. Any of it. And I’m just sorry that whole thing happened.”

You smile slightly, “I appreciate that Will.”

“I hope you won’t leave here thinking I’m an asshole,” he says, laughing slightly. You can tell he’s actually nervous; that he truly hopes you don’t think he’s a jerk. 

“I wouldn’t think that,” you tell him earnestly. Will himself has been nothing but lovely and understanding the whole summer, “We had fun together.”

“I agree,” he says, “Maybe I’ll see you around next summer?”

“Yeah,” you begin, “I’m…I mean anything is possible.”

“You and Aemond seem really good,” he tells you, “You’re good together.”

“Thanks,” you tell him, ignoring the pain in your chest, “Are you feeling confident about today?”

“Oh yeah,” he says, nodding and pursing his lips, “We got it in the bag.”

“I don’t know,” you tease, “Luke’s been working his ass off.”

“Still betting against me?”

“Always,” you joke, “But, I mean, good luck I guess.”

“You honor me,” he says, placing a hand on his chest, “I’ve got to run. But if I don’t see you again before you leave, have a great semester. Senior year, right?”

The end of an era.

“Yup.”

“Me too,” he says sighing, “Flew by.”

“Sure did,” you agree. 

“Bigger things ahead,” he says, squeezing your shoulder, “Good to see you.”

“You too, Will,” you say, “Have a great semester.”

You watch him leave, before heading back to your seats in the stands. You spot Aemond, taller than those around him. He meets your eyes, smiling slightly. You return his smile, thinking of Will’s words. You’re good together. 

“You okay?” Aemond asks, wrapping his arm around your waist as you return.

“Yeah,” you assure him, “I’m good.”

“He’s ready,” Rhaena says, joining you in the stands. You hand her the churro which she accepts gratefully. “You’re the best. Seriously. I need to take you to school with me.”

“Um no,” Baela argues, “She’s my emotional support best friend, not yours.”

“We’re twins,” Rhaena argues, “We can share.”

“We’ve got to get you on a rotating schedule,” Helaena chimes in from the bleachers behind you.

“Exactly, that makes the most sense,” Sara agrees.

“If you visit me, you can be my DD,” Aegon tells you, “Tell everyone how I nobly defended you. And be my partner in pong. You’ve got a wicked curveball.”

“How does one have a curve ball in beer pong?” Sara asks, smirking slightly. Aegon begins to explain as you glance at Aemond.

He’s got a stoic expression on his face, as though he’s thinking about something. You can see his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheeks, and his shoulders are tense. Just then, the air horn blasts through the crowd, and everyone erupts into cheers as the race begins. 

You watch the boats begin to move, cutting through the water like knives. It’s hard to tell who’s in the lead; they’re all so close and moving like an armada toward the buoy. Everyone is screaming and cheering, you included. Your heart pounds against your chest, and blood rushes in your ears at the adrenaline of the crowd. 

He’s doing it, he’s doing good. You can see Seasmoke creeping up between two other sailboats. Luke and Jace are in the lead with a few other boats; a very strong start. If he keeps this up, he can pull through to first place. You know he can. He’s been working so hard, you’ve all worked so hard. It’s all led up to this moment. 

“161.25 kilometers,” Aemond says suddenly, as Luke veers Seasmoke around the buoy. The first lap is done, he just has to make it back and he’s done it. 

Your frown, glancing at him sideways. The crowd roars around you, Helaena’s excited screaming nearly drowning out Aemond’s voice. Rhaena is jumping up and down, her churro long forgotten. You can even see Floris out of the corner of your eye, standing next to her sisters clapping. 

“What?” you ask, “Is that how far---”

“161.25 kilometers,” Aemond says again, turning to face you, “That’s how far it is from Honeyholt to Citadel University.”

You stop clapping, looking up at him. It appears he couldn’t wait until after the regatta to talk. It’s all happening right now. 

“Yeah,” you answer, taking a deep breath, “I know it's far--”

“That’s 100.2 miles,” Aemond interrupts, “100.2 miles between you and me.”

“I know, I’ve been meaning to talk to you--”

“That’s nothing.”

Your heart skips a beat.

“Distance. It doesn’t mean anything…if you’re willing to try,” he says, nerves making his hands tremble until he clenches them into fists, “If you’re willing to try because you love someone.”

Your expression softens, a look of utter adoration appearing on your face. Love. He said love someone. Not someone.

You. 

“I understand…if you don’t want to,” Aemond says quickly, “If this is just a summer thing--”

You quickly reach up, hand finding the back of his neck, tugging him toward your lips. You kiss him sweetly, the passion behind it sending fire licking down your spine. You pull away, opening your eyes. Aemond’s seeing eye remains closed as though he doesn’t want to break the spell, his lips still puckered; begging to be kissed some more. 

An air horn blares and the crowd roars around you. Streamers and confetti fly through the air, Helaena is jumping up and down with her arms wrapped tightly around Baela. But you’re only looking at Aemond. His eye flutters open, and he gazes at you in awe.

“It’s not a summer thing,” you assure him, “It never was--” And he’s kissing you again, wrapping his arms around your waist, lifting your feet off of the ground holding you against him. 

You laugh against his mouth, as he brings one hand to rest against your face, cradling your jaw. He pulls away, just momentarily, a grin breaking out across his face. 

“I…um…there’s something I--”

“I’m falling in love with you too,” you tell him, “I am, I am falling in love with you. I am in love with you.”

Aemond just stares, looking at you in wonder as though he’s not sure you’re real. 

“I’m so in love with you,” he admits, and butterflies erupt in your stomach.

“You are?”

“I am,” he tells you, stroking your face. 

“He won! He won!” Sara screams, and Aegon grabs her by the waist, spinning her around in a hug. 

“He fucking did it!” Baela yells, “Go, Luke, go!!”

You turn back to the race, and spot Luke and Jace in the distance dancing around on Seasmoke. Your jaw drops and you turn to Aemond.

“He did it!” you tell him, “And we missed it!”

“Who cares,” Aemond says, kissing you once more.

And for once you have no snarky comeback. You couldn’t agree more. 

2 Months Later

“So this is absolutely crunch time,” Baela tells you, her eyes wide, “This is the most important decision in our lives.”

You’re lying in bed across from her in your shared room in your on-campus apartment. It’s past midnight, and you've been trying to fall asleep for about an hour now.

“Baela--”

“I’m as serious as a heart attack,” she says, sitting up in bed, the glow of her laptop illuminating her face, “Do we start Halloweekend tomorrow or Friday?”

“Don’t you have a midterm Friday?”

“That is beside the point!”

You drop your phone on your chest, turning your head to her. 

“This is our last Halloweekend as college students. The last Halloweekend ever,” she says dramatically, “I can wing the midterm.”

“It’s your funeral,” you tell her, “Do we even have outfits?”

“We can think on our feet,” she says, closing her laptop and hopping off her bed, “I need a snack, do you want anything?”

“I want to go to sleep,” you tell her, as your phone begins to buzz.

“Yeah right,” she says with a sneer, seeing who’s calling you, “Like you’d go to sleep without your nightly bedtime ritual.”

“Shut up,” you tell her, cheeks heating up, and a silly grin appearing on your face.

“I love you, no I love you more, no I love youuuu more,” Baela mimics, leaving the room making kissing noises.

“We don’t sound like that!” you insist as you answer Aemond’s call, “Hey stranger.”

“Hey angel,” he says, in a tired voice, “Sorry it's so late, I got distracted in the library and lost track of time.”

“Hmmm nerd,” you tease, “It’s okay, Baela’s been keeping me up anyway.”

“What for?”

“Costume planning. We might end up going out tomorrow.”

“Of course,” Aemond says with a chuckle. 

“What have you been up to?”

“Studying mainly for this philosophy midterm. This class is extremely interesting but the material is dense. It’s taking a while to review,” he admits.

“You’re a very dedicated student, I’m sure you’ll do amazing,” you assure him.

“Oh I plan to,” he admits, an air of confidence in his voice, “I just like to be best at everything I do.”

“Something I am well aware of,” you tell him, chewing on your lower lip.

He pauses, not speaking for a moment and you can practically feel him smirking through the phone. Your heart quickens its pace as he chuckles.

“I miss you,” he says softly.

“You’ll see me Friday,” you tease, but you miss him as well. It’s been working out rather smoothly so far. And you’ve made plans in advance to return to King’s Landing for winter break as well. 

“Counting the hours,” Aemond says, “I’ll let you go to sleep, love, I just wanted to check in.”

“Okay,” you tell him, “Goodnight. I love you.”

“I love you,” he says, “Sleep well.”

Baela enters the room as you hang up, a bowl of popcorn in her hands. She rolls her eyes as you plug in your phone, falling back against your pillow with a satisfied sigh. 

“Can we get me a partner now?” Baela says, climbing back onto her bed, “I’d like to be mushy gushy with someone too.”

“Halloweekend goal: get Baela a boo,” you tell her and she laughs in response.

“Get Baela Boo’ed,” she says snickering as she munches on some popcorn, “I love it.”

Your phone buzzes one last time with a goodnight text from Helaena. She’s a bit of an insomniac, so this is rather early for her. You smile at the message. Helaena visited a few weekends ago. You’d missed her so much since the summer, especially since she left early for RA training. 

You lock your phone, placing it next to you as you prepare to go to sleep. So far, senior year is everything you’d hoped it would be. With everyone you hoped would be there. You reach for your phone once more, just to look at your lock screen one more time. 

It’s a picture you’d taken after Luke won the regatta. He’s in front, holding his trophy with Jace’s help, a large grin on both of their faces. Baela and Rhaena stand behind them, Rhaena smiling brightly and Baela mid-laugh. Then there’s Aegon next to Sara, their faces squished together. And Helaena of course, with an all-knowing smirk on her face, and a stoic Cregan beside her with his arms crossed over his chest.

You and Aemond are in the center of it all; his hand around your waist as you smile into the camera. Aemond’s gaze is on you, a half smile on his face. Confetti rains all around you and the sun lights the picture in a way that traps the feeling of summer on your screen. Already you feel yourself wanting to return, the grief of summer ending still fresh in your heart. 

All the people you love most, in the place you love most. 

You can’t wait to see them all again.

note: THATS IT MY DEARS!! I'm so in awe of the continued love and support from you all, you all make sharing these stories so much fun and for that, I am so grateful ❤️ until our next adventure my loves!

OLS Taglist 1: @talesofoldandnew, @aemondslefteyeball, @urmomsgirlfriend1, @castellomargot, @high-on-darren-criss, @diosademuerte, @padfooteyes, @tempo-rary-fix, @amirawritespoorly, @chainsawsangel, @toodlesxcuddles, @tssf-imagines, @malfoytargaryen, @nina2697, @glame, @joliettes, @yentroucnagol

@grungegrrrl, @melsunshine, @helaenaluvr

you were snapped from your thoughts as you felt Harwin place a tender kiss on your head, his hand moving to slowly stroke your back. “Good morning wife,” he mumbled into your hair like he did all mornings. “Did you sleep well?” he asked as his fingers moved to slowly brush through your messy bed head.

“I always sleep well with you by my side,” you mumbled against his skin, nuzzling into his chest as his nails raked against your scalp in just the right way.

“Then I shall never leave it,” he said with a sleepy chuckle.

“Good,” you said as you forced yourself to lean up so you could appreciate your husbands’ features, “But im afraid we must get up,” you said as you placed your hands on his chest to push yourself up, but you were stopped by Harwin’s arms wrapping tightly round your waist, “Harwin,” you whined but it came out as more of a laugh.

Harwin chuckled at your attempt to wriggle free, but his strong arms easily locked you in place, “You’re not going anywhere love,” he said as he stole a quick kiss, “I cannot leave your side remember,” he teased.

You sighed and tried to put on a serious face despite the urge to giggle like a young lady at court, “But what of our responsibilities? you have to train the new guard recruits,”

“We have other fine soldiers. let them train them,” he said, brushing the hair out of your face to gently hold your jaw, “I have marital responsibilities to attend to,”

You weren’t able to stop your giggle this time, but your protest did not end, “What of the children? I need to ready them and make sure they do not try miss their classes,” you said, settling into his chest as your protest turned to just words, “You know how fussy Rhaya gets when I am not the one to dress her,”

“Our children are lucky to have you as a mother,” he hummed making your heart warm. you had done your best to be a true mother to your children despite many of your station passing them off to others to be raised. “Maybe another lucky child will join us soon,”

you rolled your eyes with a light smile, “I have already told you the maester confirmed it was all a mistake. I am not with child,” you said. initially you had both been a little disappointed by the news but the busy hustle of your current litter of children made it easy to forget your upset.

however, a grin crept on Harwin’s face as his hands moved from your waist down your back to your ass, grabbing it suddenly making you gasp, “Not yet wife,” he grinned.

“Husband,” you scolded, hitting his chest knowing your fists were like taps to his frame, “You would make me late to our children for your own needs?” you said with fake annoyance, but he could see the grin teasing the corner of your lips.

“Not my needs dear wife,” he said, his hands moving slowly down to rest on the backs of your thighs, pushing your shift up so he could rub his thumbs over your bare skin, “My marital needs. after all I swore an oath to you. what kind of husband would I be if I did not fulfil it?”

“I think the five others who are currently tormenting their maids prove your more than capable sweet husband,” you said as you finally moved to sit up, but Harwin grabbed your hips, forcing you to stay sat on his lap.

he leaned forward, kissing you suddenly with one hand holding your jaw, the other your hip. the kiss was soft and slow as you felt his fingers squeeze the flesh of your hips which he often praised. despite being married with children he still took the breath out of you with just a kiss, “I suppose,” you said against his lips as you tried to catch your breath, “being a little late never hurt,”

“That’s the spirit,” he said, his lips brushing yours with every word as his hand found the back of your neck.

you couldn’t help but moan into the kiss as he lightly ground his hips up, pressing his growing bulge into your clothed cunt. you knew by how tightly he was gripping your hip there would be bruises tomorrow but you didn’t care. after all there were two reasons, he was called breakbone.

still, you gasped when he suddenly flipped you onto your back. Harwin grinded his hips down slowly, teasing you with each press of his hips against yours. his hands began to roam your body, squeezing your waist and breasts over your shift. his fingers trailed softly along the edge of your neckline before suddenly ripping the soft fabric. you gasped as the fabric ripped, the sudden breeze making your nipples harden.

your soft moans were covered by Harwin’s lips as his fingers began to softly roll your pebbled nubs between his calloused hands. his hands may be rough with a sword but soft on you as he traced around the sensitive buds between squeezes. “You still need to go?” he asked, breaking the kiss for only a moment.

“Im not going anywhere,” you said before pulling him back in for a deep kiss, your hands tangled in his hair.

you whined into the kiss when you felt his hands fall from your nipples, but an excitement began to build as you felt him pulling at his undergarment’s strings. your hands fell from his hair to run down his chest, feeling his muscles as you lightly trailed your fingers down his hot skin. however, it did not take him long to undo his trousers and push whatever fabric was in the way to the side.

you moaned as you felt his fingers trail along your cunt, pausing to tease the entrance of your hole, “Always so ready for me,” he praised as he moved to hold his cock. he lined his tip up with yours, the tip barely pushing in as you bit back a whine, “You want me to fuck you princess?” he asked, brushing the hair off your face with his spare hand, “Fuck you till you are filled with my child? till you scream my name?”

“Yes,” you moaned, gasping as he slowly began to push in, “Please Harwin please fuck me already,”

“I like when you beg,” he mused, his head falling to place soft kisses to your neck as he slowly pushed deeper inside, “you take me so well princess,” he said, his voice a strangled breath of groans and moans as he sunk his cock all the way in, “Such a good little wife,” he praised as he slowly began to move.

intuitively your legs wrapped around his waist, “please,” you whined, your eyes screwing up in anticipation as your fingers trailed over his shoulders, “don’t tease me this time. I need you. please,” your words seemed to move your husband as you gasped as he suddenly began thrusting in you.

Harwin wasted no time slipping a hand between your frames to find your clit, rubbing it precisely after many times of practise. you moaned as his lips worked harsh kisses along your neck to match his thrusts. he was called breakbone for a reason you thought as your nails dug into his shoulder blades.

as your nails trailed down his back you heard Harwin mumble praises and curse words under his breath, enjoying every scrape and scratch you were leaving. you could feel a familiar knot bubbling in your stomach as his cock stretched you out, pounding your defenceless bodily mercilessly into the bed. you wondered if the maids had grown used to the moans coming from your bed chambers of if the current sounds you were making still made them blush.

you did not worry for them however when Harwin grabbed your legs, pushing your thighs back so he could fuck you deeper into the plush mattress. your moans could probably be heard across the red keep by this point, “Please,” you moaned, each word interrupted by his thrusts, “Don’t stop, just like that,” you gasped as Harwin’s fingers dug into your hips tightly.

“I can’t stop myself,” he gasped, his thrusts growing messy, but it did not matter to you as you felt your knot tighten and your cunt begin to grip around his cock making Harwin moan.

“Please,” you began to whisper like a prayer till suddenly your body felt it would burst and you felt yourself come around his cock like a tiddle wave. your curses and moans did not make your husband stop however and you had to bite down on his shoulder as his thrusts grew heavier and you wondered if you would break.

“So good,” Harwin mumbled over and over as his thrusts grew sloppy and desperate before you suddenly felt that familiar feeling as his body tightened, his thrusts stopping, as you felt his seed spill deep inside of you.

you took the moment to catch your breath as your husband rode out his own pleasure before collapsing in the bed beside you. “That was- “he said between pants, “You are- I love you,” he finally settled upon as his gaze turned to you, wide eyed and exhausted.

“I love you too husband,” you giggled, as you rolled over to cuddle into his side, “But you owe me a new shift,” you joked as you traced hearts with your fingertips on his bare chest.

Harwin chuckled lightly as he wrapped his arm around you, “I’ll make sure to get you the finest of linens for it my dear wife,” he said as he pulled you tightly into his side, “See?” he teased, “Being late is worth it sometimes,” you rolled your eyes, pretending to be annoyed despite knowing he was right.

If your elder sister Rhaenyra is considered to be the Realm’s Delight, it can be easily said that you are considered the Realm’s Heart. While Rhaenyra begrudged her childhood friend, Alicent, for wedding your widowed father, you found comfort in your new mother figure’s arms. While Rhaenyra ignored your younger half-siblings, you doted upon them, taking to your new role as an older sister with much happiness. It came naturally to you. Seven Hells, you even mothered Rhaenyra despite being three years younger than her. However, there was no sibling you doted upon more than your beloved little brother, Aemond.

Seven years your junior, Aemond practically worshiped the ground you walked upon, trailing after you, seeking your advice on every little thing, even sneaking into your chambers to sleep beside you when he had nightmares. You brought him a sense of comfort no one else did. And the older he grew, the more he relied upon you. You, who never teased him for having a dragon, but rather took him for rides atop your beloved mount, Vermithor. You, who encouraged his training, his reading.

You, who he’s loved since he knew what love is.

The day you were sent off to the Vale to be married off to Lord Arryn at the young age of eight and ten, Aemond bawled until he was a crumpled mess on the floor, clinging to your skirt, begging you not to leave. You pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, promising to come back and visit. Little Aemond, having lost his eye only one year past, could not believe that the gods would be so cruel as to take you away from him too.

You are gone from his life for ten lonely years. Ten years where he imagines how you must look now, ten years where he wonders if, perhaps one day, you will return and take him in your arms, kiss him as a woman kisses a man, as a wife kisses a husband. He knows it’s wrong, but every day, he goes to the Sept and prays to the Stranger to take your husband so he may have you to himself once again.

And, shortly after Aemond’s one and twentieth nameday, his prayers are granted. He receives news that Lord Arryn has died of a summer fever. He questions his mother when you will be called back to the Red Keep, to which she replies you will return in six moon’s time, as you have just given birth to your third babe.

When you arrive by carriage, the sight of you, dressed in a black gown, flanked by your sons, your infant babe in your arms, takes his breath away. Your figure is fuller than he remembers, more womanly, the swell of your hips more pronounced. He can’t help his eye from wandering to your breasts, so soft and full-

“Hello, valonqus,” you smile at him gently. (little brother)

Gods, why does the sound of your voice alone make him so unbearably hard?

“Mandȳs,” he replies, moving to press a soft kiss to your cheek, taking in your figure, “You have not aged a day. You are as beautiful as I remember in my dreams,” Aemond says, taking in your familiar scent. (big sister)

You laugh, shaking your head, “You are only trying to flatter me, little brother.”

He looks at you, a smile playing on his lips as he replies, “Maybe a little, but I am not lying,” he pauses before adding, “I missed you very much, my sweet sister. Every day we were apart, I longed for your presence.”

“I should hope so,” you tease, “I practically raised you.”

Aemond gestures toward your children, “And who are these fine gentlemen?”

You rest a hand on your eldest child’s head, smiling at him affectionately, “This is my eldest, Maegor. Say hello to your kepa, darling.” (uncle)

Maegor bows his head as a sign of respect, “Kepus.” (uncle)

Aemond kneels down to extend a hand to him, “And how old are you, Maegor?”

“I am seven, Your Grace,” he says proudly, puffing out his chest, “And I intend to claim the Cannibal as you claimed Vhagar-”

“Enough, Maegor,” you chide, “You will claim Silverwing or Seasmoke if you are to claim a dragon, you will most certainly not be claiming the Cannibal.”

Aemond smirks at the site of you scolding your son much as you once did him, “Oh, come now, sister. He’s half Targaryen. He can do it.”

You eye Aemond wearily, “Do not encourage him,” you gently push your second son forward, but he merely runs and hides behind you, “And this is Maekar,” you smile at your brother, “He’s a shy one, but I am sure he will warm to you in time. He is four years old and quite the expert at High Valyrian for his age. He reminds me of you in that regard.”

Aemond chuckles at the sight of his nephew hiding behind you, this reminding him of his own childhood as well, how you would yell at Aegon and Jacaerys when they teased him and he would hide behind your skirts, “Well, I look forward to getting to know the young man when he’s more comfortable,” his eye moves to the babe in your arms as he stands and steps closer to you, “And who is this little one?”

“This is Rhaegar,” you say, rocking the infant gently, “My third son.”

Aemond tries to focus on the babe in your arms, he really does, but his eye keeps traveling to your chest, the way it rises and falls as you breathe, how your breasts seem to strain against the fabric of your bodice, as though you want to show him all of you.

“My lord husband and I had hoped to have a daughter after Rhaegar,” you say as you press a kiss to the sleeping infant’s head, “Alas, things did not work out that way.”

The bitter jealousy Aemond has always felt when thinking of your husband begins to claw its way back to the surface. You speak of him with such fondness. Did you love the bastard? Did you enjoy it when he laid with you? Aemond knows he should be happy for you, but he cannot be. Not when all he wants is for you to be with him, to love him.

“I am sorry, mandȳs,” he says, though he does not mean a word of it.

The day he received the news that your husband died was the happiest day of his life. His eye moves across the contours of your body again, and he feels his breeches growing tighter and tighter, the sight of you making his cock impossibly hard. How soft you must feel to the touch, how sweet you must taste.

“Father called me back here once Rhaegar was old enough to travel a long distance,” you explain, “I believe your lady mother has suggested to him that I remarry.”

Aemond raises a brow. Now this is news to him.

“Is that what you wish as well, sister?”

You shake your head, “Not at all. I still grieve for my husband. His absence has left a hole in my heart.”

You allow Aemond to lead you and your sons to the room where they will be sleeping, just beside where your old chambers once were. You smile at the fact that a cradle has already been placed in your chambers for little Rhaegar and set him down gently, rocking it to lull him off to sleep. Aemond watches you, thinking what an incredible mother you are, that this was exactly what you were meant for. You are so sweet and nurturing. He almost feels envious of your babe, wishing that it was him who you hold in your arms with such a delicate touch.

The moment you move away from the cradle to speak to Aemond, Rhaegar’s eyes open and he begins bawling. You immediately race back, picking the child up and cooing at him.

“It’s alright, sweetling, muña will feed you, precious,” you murmur, glancing back at Aemond, “I am sorry, Aemond, this should not take very long.” (mother)

He shakes his head, “No, sister, by all means.”

He watches as you turn from him, unlacing your bodice enough to free one of your breasts. His mouth goes dry as he watches you feed Rhaegar. Aemond walks a bit closer, his footsteps silent, so that he may get a better view. He hears the quiet sigh of relief you let out as the baby suckles at you, his wailing long finished. Aemond moves to sit beside you, rubbing a hand against your back as he watches you, utterly entranced by the sight.

“There we go, zaldrītsos,” you whisper to Rhaegar as he feeds from you, “There’s my sweet boy.” (little dragon)

Aemond closes his eye and, for a moment, he pretends you are speaking to him. He hears you singing softly, much as you did to him when he was a child and would find comfort in your arms. It is a tune you once told him the late Queen Aemma would sing to you and Rhaenyra when you were babes.

“Baby mine, don’t you cry,” you croon, “Baby mine, dry your eyes. Rest your head close to my heart, never to part, baby of mine.”

He rests his chin on your shoulder, enjoying this soft, sweet moment with you, murmuring, “Such a wonderful sight, sweet sister. You do not use a wet nurse?”

You glance at him curiously from the corner of your eye, “Why would I? I have never felt closer with my children than I do when I feed them. It is a beautiful experience.”

“Some women do not enjoy feeding their babes,” Aemond responds, “Helaena said some find it to be uncomfortable, painful even at times. But you, my sister, do not complain,” his gaze travels to your breasts once more and he sighs, “You look like a goddess.”

Your soft laugh echoes through the room, “You say the silliest things, Aemond.”

“I speak the truth,” he retorts, moving a hand to rest on your thigh, his voice becoming lower, as he squeezes you gently, “Tell me, sister, do you have such a soft body to go with your beauty? Is every inch of you such utter perfection?”

You move to place Rhaegar back in his crib, shooting Aemond a confused look. He comes to stand beside you, resting a hand on your shoulder.

“Sister, I am a man now-”

“I am quite tired, Aemond,” you cut him off, though not rudely, “Would you mind leaving me to rest for a moment?”

“And leave you alone?” Aemond takes a step closer, “No, I would rather enjoy my time with you,” he says, his cock straining almost painfully against his breeches as his eye runs over your body.

“Aemond,” you say sternly, “Enough.”

“Why?” he asks, his voice a low rasp in your ear as he wraps his arms around you, pressing himself up against your back, “After so many years away from me, you do not want to spend time with your little brother?”

“Valonqus,” you murmur, “I am still mourning my husband-”

“And for that I am sorry, my sister, but mayhaps this is what you need?” he suggests, “You need to be loved. Relieved,” he moves his hands up your stomach, letting them rest just below your breasts.

You turn to face him, your bodice only halfway laced, your chest heaving against it, “Aemond are you not promised to someone yet? You ought to preserve your virtue for your future bride-”

“The only bride I desire is you,” he says, his lips ghosting over your neck as he keeps his grip tight on you, “I have wanted you for so long. You and no one else.”

“I am too old for you-”

“I could not care less,” he interrupts your protests, “I look at you and see a woman I want, nay, a woman I need. I need you to make me whole,” he brushes his nose against yours, his breath warm against your skin, “Do you not wish for me to be happy? And do you not wish yourself to be happy?”

“Of course I want you to be happy, Aemond,” you tell him, your voice soft, “But I am a widow with three children. I am not the sister you remember.”

“And I am not the little boy you took care of,” Aemond counters, “I am older now. A man, one who is in love with you. Who would kill for you. Who would die for you,” he whispers in your ear, “Do you not want the relief I can provide you? Just grant me a taste. I’ve dreamt of this moment for so long…”

“Aemond,” you whisper, leaning into his touch, your resolve weakening, “I…”

“Mandȳs,” he smiles against your neck as he presses a kiss to it, his hand moving to the fabric of your skirts, lifting them higher, “Do I not deserve a taste? As compensation for all the years we spent apart?”

Your fingers move to unlace the bodice of your dress fully, allowing your black gown to fall in a heap to the floor. Aemond’s breath is loud as his eye takes in your nude form, the curves of your body, your supple flesh all on display for him. Gods, how is a man supposed to think of anything else when such a perfect creature exists? He watches as you sit on the bed and moves to sit beside you. Your breasts, so soft and full, he can scarcely think of anything else. They could drive a man mad, he is sure.

“I am yours,” he declares, cupping your tits in his hands, squeezing gently, feeling how heavy they are against his palms, “I am here to take care of you.”

You let out a gasp as his lips latch onto one of your nipples and he begins suckling at it. You rest a hand on his head, moaning softly at the feeling of his lips wrapped around you, the way he clings to you.

“Aemond…”

“I want you,” he says when he manages to pull away for a brief moment, “I love you. My perfect woman,” his lips find your breast again and he lets out a moan at the feeling of your milk coating his tongue.

“I suppose if Father agrees-”

“I do not see any reason he would not,” Aemond says, moving his lips down toward your stomach, “You and I are the blood of Old Valyria. What can be more perfect?”

As you feel his lips near your stomach, you gently stop him, “Not there, Aemond,” you say, a bit bashfully, something so uncharacteristic for you, “I… I have marks from my-”

“I do not care for a few stretch marks,” he says, offended by the idea that you think he would be, “It shows that you have given birth. That you give life. There is nothing in this world more beautiful than that,” his fingers trace the marks on your skin, and he soon replaces them with his lips, his arousal growing by the second at the thought of putting another child in you, of watching you grow with his babe, “So beautiful.”

“What did I do to deserve such affection?” you sigh contentedly as Aemond continues kissing your stomach, admiring the evidence of your past pregnancies.

“You loved me, at a time when it felt no one else did,” he tells you with a smile, “You are kind and you deserve to have the affection you give others returned to you tenfold,” Aemond, rests a hand on your cheek “I have had to wait a long time to be with you, but we finally have the chance now,” you let out another sigh as he kisses your neck, up your jawline, before he whispers, “I want to taste you everywhere. I do not want anyone to have you save for me.”

You pull back for a brief moment, looking at him seriously, “Before we go any further, you must answer me. Will you love Maegor, Maekar, and Rhaegar as if they were your own.”

“Of course I will,” he vows, taking your face in his hands, gazing upon you with all the love he possesses, “I will love them and care for them as if they are my own sons. In my heart, they will be.”

“And if we have children of our own,” you look at him, “You will not neglect these three boys in favor of your own blood?”

“I will love each of my children with my whole heart,” he swears, “I will not favor one over the other.”

With that, you press your lips to his, allowing him to gently push you down onto your back on the bed. He stands at the foot of the bed and you watch as he slowly sheds his tunic, his breeches, leaving his body on display for you. Finally, he removes the eyepatch that covers his scar and his sapphire. He has never felt this vulnerable before as he moves to sit on his haunches between your legs, gazing down at you.

“My beautiful Aemond,” you say softly, leaning up to kiss his scar, then his lips.

He moans at the feeling, a low guttural sound as he murmurs, “Muña.”

You’re not entirely surprised by it, but you smirk slightly, laying back once again as he moves to kiss your thigh, then presses a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your cunny. He groans at how sweet you taste, how soft you are everywhere, how you were made by the gods for him. He moves his tongue against you slowly, wanting to savor the way you tense against him, your thighs trembling as he pleasures you, the way you cry out his name as his tongue delves further inside you. You are so sensitive and responsive, he notes, like every touch of his lips sets your body on fire. He moves his lips to suckle at your pearl, his fingers pumping in and out of you torturously slow. You let out a quiet moan of his name, prompting him to smirk as you buck your hips against his face, chasing your peak, hands tugging at his hair, trying to pull him closer. He squeezes the flesh of your thighs, moving his fingers out of you, spreading your legs apart as he laps at your folds eagerly, nuzzling his nose against your pearl. You feel the cleft of his nose against you and reach your peak with a cry of his name.

Aemond lets out a delighted groan as you spill yourself on his tongue, tasting your arousal, before climbing over you, pressing his lips to yours. He feels one of your soft hands working his cock, spreading the evidence of his arousal along the tip. He lets out a moan against your lips, a “muña, please”, to which you only smirk and shush him, slowly moving your hand along his length, then moving your free hand to squeeze his stones gently. He lets out a choked gasp.

“Muña, please let me make love to you,” he groans, “Let me make you a mother again. Let me spill my seed inside you. Let me watch you grow round with my babe.”

You smile up at him, allowing him to sheathe himself inside you with one smooth thrust. He fills you so perfectly that you think you could lay like this forever and be content. Aemond lets out a soft little whimper at the feeling of your cunt squeezing around him, so warm and wet and perfect.

“Will you give me a daughter, taobus riñus?” you ask softly as he rolls his hips against yours, “A little girl?” (sweet boy)

“I will give you all the children you desire,” he vows, rutting his hips against yours, his lips finding yours once more, his hands squeezing at your soft breasts, already imagining his mouth on them again, “As many daughters and sons as you want. Let us begin right now.”

You nod, moaning as you move your hand between where your bodies are joined to circle your pearl, squeezing around Aemond tighter and tighter as your peak approaches yet again, “Yes, Aemond, gods, yes, spill your seed inside me.”

Aemond’s thrusts grow sloppy and frenzied, and when you reach your release, squeezing him like a vice, he gives one, two more thrusts before spilling his seed as promised, deep inside you, remaining there for a moment, just laying atop you, panting heavily.

“We will marry tonight,” he promises, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “My beloved sister.”

You smile as you pull back the sheets, allowing him to cuddle close to you, his head resting on your chest, your bodies pressed against each other.

“I love you, my sweet sister,” he murmurs, his voice thick with sleep as he kisses you once more.

“And I love you,” you whisper, closing your eyes.

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