#Jacearys Velaryon smut

[entitled-fangirl]

I won’t burn you.

Jace Velaryon x Targaryen!reader

SMUT

Summary: After the Battle at Rooks Rest, the reader is upset at Dragonstone. Her betrothed comforts her.

Warnings: oral (f receiving), fingering, heavy makeout, talks of death

Masterlist

…………………………..

Jace's eyes didn't leave her body.

Y/n Targaryen stood among the small council table of Queen Rhaenyra. A green at birth, Alicent's second daughter and youngest child, she now stood next to the rightful queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Across the table, Rhaenyra’s heir and the girl's betrothed, Jace.

The two had been betrothed to make amends between the two houses during Luke's petition of Driftmark.

And when Rhaenyra decided to take her children home and return later to King's Landing, she had proposed taking Y/n with them so she may get to know Jace more. Though hesitant at first, Alicent was persuaded to agree by Viserys.

Now, Y/n remained loyal to Jace through the betrayal of her brothers.

Rhaenyra admired the girl's bravery throughout the ordeal.

Now, months later, Y/n stood at the table, utterly silent and motionless, save for the steady stream of tears that ran down her face at the news of the Battle of Rook's Rest.

Her brother injured beyond repair. Rhaenys dead. Sunfyre gone. Meleys paraded around King's Landing like a war prize.

It was the first time she had cried at Dragonstone.

Jace stood on the other side of the table, watching in pain as she weeped in silence.

The council was speaking, he was sure of it, but he couldn't tell what. Nor did he quite care.

He had offered to fight that battle.

In anyone world, Vermax may have been the war prize paraded.

He wanted to help. He did. It seemed he never knew how to help.

The moment Rhaenyra called an end to the meeting, Jace rounded the table to his betrothed. He took her face in his hands. His eyes darted across her face rapidly before his voice came out softly, "Please stop this."

Y/n's eyes finally looked up at him with her teary gaze, and Jace felt breath leave his body.

"My love, please," Jace tried again, not caring for the others in the room.

Her voice was hoarse, barely a whisper, "Why must it all end in fire?"

He wasn't sure what to say to that. "It's… it's in our blood."

She pulled herself from his grip, wiping at the tears herself. "My brother did not even wish to be king, and now he lies in a bed, half-dead. And for what? The feud between our mothers??"

"Watch yourself, my love." He warned, "Do not say the wrong thing just because you are upset."

She pushed his chest lightly, "You don't understand!"

His face morphed into one of anger, "I don't understand? Your brothers live. Where is mine? Slain by one of yours! I DO understand. More than you know!"

She shook her head as fresh tears warmed her face, "Please do not shout at me."

Jace scoffed lightly and crossed his arms, "Do not be unreasonable."

"I wish I was not who I am."

She began to rush out of the hall.

Jace opened his mouth to call out to her, but nothing came out.

…

Y/n had spent hours in her chambers with the door locked. No servants or guards were to bother her.

Her weeping could be heard throughout Dragonstone, making the Prince's gut tear itself in two.

But only when his betrothed's servant came to him to tell him of Y/n’s refusal of food did he do anything.

…

A knock sounded at the door.

Y/n sniffled and her soft voice called out, "Leave me."

"It's Jace."

"I said leave me."

"No."

She turned to look at the door. "Leave."

"Not until we speak."

She cursed lightly for his Velayron stubbornness.

"I won't come in until you say the words."

She finally gave in. "Fine. Come in."

Jace slowly opened the door, a tray of food in his hand. He closed the door behind him before his eyes settled on her frame.

Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy from the tears, a few still escaping down her cheek as she sat on the floor in front of her bed.

He stood awkwardly, not sure what to do.

Finally, her meek voice spoke up, "Forgive me."

His head tilted, "W…what?"

"Forgive me." She sniffled, "I said awful things to you. You know the pain of loss more personally than I ever shall."

"That's not true," he said as he stepped towards her, setting the tray on a table. "You lost your father only months ago."

"He was your grandsire."

"Still."

She continued, "And you've lost Luke, Princess Rhaenys, your father Laenor, your-" She stopped herself. "Your mother's… guard."

Jace looked down at the floor. "Yes, but I… it is different with me."

"I don't see how."

When Jace finally looked back to her, unshed tears swam in his eyes. "I don't know."

She sniffled, "Please just say you'll forgive me."

He knelt down next to her, looking deep into her eyes. "You know I will."

She reached up, brushing his unruly curls from his face before connecting her lips with his.

Jace's body wracked with sobs as he pulled her into his lap. Her kisses became more passionate, intent on showing her feelings through them. His tongue darted out to her bottom lip, and he was quickly granted access to her mouth.

"I love you," he whispered against her lips.

"You know I love you, Jace."

He stopped himself, pulling his lips from hers, "We should stop here."

She leaned forward, connecting their lips again, "I want you, Jace."

He shook his head, "We're not to marry until after this war. I won't sully you."

"I don't care. I need to feel you. Please."

He nodded, his hands pulling her hips closer and reconnecting their lips.

Her hand moved to his hair, pulling lightly.

"Onto the bed," he murmured.

She quickly left his lap, standing and beginning to pull at her dress.

He smiled as he wiped his tears and stood with her, "Let me."

He stood behind her, his lips leaving open mouth kisses against her neck as his fingers unbuttoned the small ones down her back.

She let out a small moan, resting her head on his shoulder.

When the buttons were undone, he tugged her dress down, making it pool at her feet. Now only in her shift, she turned in his hold and kissed him again.

His hands moved to her hips, and he walked her into the bed, playfully pushing her onto it.

She let out a grunt as her back hits the covers, but she laughed lightly at his antics.

He made quick work of tugging off his clothes, leaving him in his small clothes. He then joined her on the bed.

As he crawled over her, she grabbed his face gently, "How do you do it?"

He sniffled from his past tears, "Do what?"

Her thumb brushed over his bottom lip, "Suddenly I don't mind being consumed by fire as long as it is from you."

His lips pulled into a bright smile, "I won't burn you.”

She pulled him to her again in a desperate kiss.

Jace's hands began to pull her shift up to her hips. He pulled away to look at her, "Are you sure?"

She nodded.

"Please, I have to hear it. Please."

She smiled, "I want you, Jace. As much as you'll give me."

He pushed her legs up by her thighs, "I'll give you anything you want." He then made agonizingly slow movements as his body began to move lower and lower down hers. She waited with bated breath.

Jace had never pleasured a woman before. He was rather terrified of failing. But he was intend on trying.

His face lowered between her thighs. He felt breath leave him at the sight that laid before him.

He slowly lowered himself the rest of the way, licking a long stripe up her slit.

She let out a gasp from deep inside her.

He looked up with a hesitantly, "Does that feel good?"

Her hand trailed to his hair, "Please don't stop."

She could feel his smirk against her as he continued his motions.

It was experimental, continuing the things that made her gasp or when her grip on his hair tightened.

When his nose brushed her clit, her hips jerked back as a sinful moan left her mouth.

He reached up, holding her hips steady as he continued.

His tongue moved deep into her now, wanting to moan along with her.

"Jace…. Oh gods, Jace…."

He pulled away and brought himself up to her face again, kissing her deeply. She let out a small whine at the taste of herself on his tongue.

He grinned, "Not like it?"

She let out a calming breath, "Just feels strange."

"Want to stop?" He asked with a tilted head.

She immediately shook hers, "No. No, please don't."

He smiled, "Pretty girl."

Their lips connected again in a heated makeup.

She let out a small gasp when his fingers began to toy between her thighs, and he took the opportunity of her open mouth , letting his tongue explore her.

All-consumed by Jace, she gave in completely, her eyes closed and her lips slowing against him.

When his fingers slowly entered her, her entire body froze.

"This alright?" He whispered when he noticed her stiffness.

She gave a whimper but nodded her head.

"Jace…"

"You're so beautiful."

His fingers began to pump very slowly, his pants tenting at the feeling of his fingers in her.

She pushed herself up to kiss him but his fingers curled and her open mouth paused inches from his own.

He couldn't help the smirk that came to his lips. "You like that?"

She breathed out heavily, her eyes meeting his. "You… You know I… I love you."

"I love you."

"Burn me, Jace."

He kissed her jaw lightly, "I'll never mar your pretty skin."

…

They returned the next day to the council meeting in new spirits. Daemon's eyes moved between the two with a knowing look.

He knows the look of a man that's pussy whipped.

Perhaps he could get Rhaenyra to move the wedding closer.

……………………………

[yourlocallunatic]

My King in the North

Cregan Stark x fem Velaryon!reader 18+

Summary: You fly with your brother to meet with the Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North to ally your families in the height of the Dance of Dragons. In exchange for soldiers, your mother has offered up you—her eldest daughter.

Warnings: Arranged marriage, smut, piv sex, oral sex (fem receiving) canonical Stark breeding kink (seriously, hardcore breeding kink). HoTD tragedies (character deaths)

wordcount: 8.2k

The wind grew sharper the further North you flew, snow started to cling to your hair and lashes, encasing you in the cold. On the back of your dragon, you tried your best to curl into yourself to keep warm. The rain you saw from time to time on Dragonstone was cold, but not like this. You could feel the fierce power of the North in the gusts of the wind and it made you feel something, something more than you felt anywhere in the South.

You approached Winterfell, the rolling green hills and the thick forest surrounding it. The sky was gray and a light snow covered the cobblestone streets and the tops of the tower. It seemed dull, but there was a distinguished charm to the place. You and your brother landed your dragons near the front gates, and the guards standing watch shuffled stiffly on their feet–eyes growing wide at the sheer size of the beasts. The gates opened and a man walked at the front, he was broad and burly, his long hair was pulled half-back and a large sword was slung across his back. This was the Lord of Winterfell. Your betrothed.

“Winterfell welcomes you, my friends,” his voice shook with a deep Northern accent, his arms were outstretched with a gesture of welcome.

“Thank you, my Lord. Our mother–her Grace–thanks you for seeing us,” Jacearys spoke approaching Lord Stark. You stayed back a bit, letting your brother do the talking for now.

“Please, please, come in. We have a feast prepared, you shall sit at the high table with myself,” He patted Jace on the back hard, your brother letting out a cough at the impact. The Northerners were clearly not very concerned with the prim-and-proper treatment of royals. It was refreshing. You set your dragon away, leaving her to fly and explore, knowing she would return. You follow your brother, guards following you on either side—Lord Starks welcoming behavior did not reflect that of the guards he enforced. You knew it was risky of him to trust you, and he showed you that with the guards that stood by him and the sword that lay on his back. He was smart.

Warmth enveloped you as you entered the halls, every patron of the court stood and bowed as you all entered. They did not bow at you and your brother, however, but to the Warden. You’d heard of Northern stubbornness and now you were seeing it in full effect. They did not like outsiders and you saw that as they sent occasional glares to you. Lord Stark took a seat at the high table, you and Jace sitting on either side of him, though you protested to sit next to your brother.

"Please, be seated," Lord Stark's voice boomed throughout the hall, "I thank you all for welcoming the children of The Queen, the Prince, and Princess shall remain with us for a stay, I ask you all to extend your arms to them. Now eat your fill! Winter is coming," he spoke with such a high level of authority but it was so evident in the way his people listened attentively that they all respected him. And the mere fact that he had called Rhaenyra the Queen already struck something in the minds of his people.

You still did not speak, eating quietly as you listened to the conversations around you. Jace and Lord Stark spoke to each other, you could tell a bond was forming, the two seemed very alike already. Two young Lords, they knew power at such a small age. You watched the Warden from the corner of your eye, the way he spoke with Jacearys was firm, but not unfriendly, he knew what you and your brother came here to ask and he was setting his boundaries early–the type of move a king would make. Studying his face you noticed more and more, that his brow line was firm, and his eyes a steel grey, he was very much a Stark by all the accounts you'd read. He had a small scar running along the side of his cheek, one you couldn't help but wonder what it came from.

"Tell me, Princess," you turn your head to the young woman sitting beside you, a bit younger than yourself you guessed, "you came here with the intent of staying in the North, did you not?"

"Pardon me, Lady–?" you asked. Finally speaking.

"Just Sara, your Grace. You intend to marry my brother?" this was the Lord of Winterfell's sister, you recalled–a bastard–thinking back to your books on the North. Evidently, he was very committed to his family, considering he would let a bastard sit at the high table with him; let alone sit in the hall altogether.  

"The Queen's intention, yes," you bite back, still bitter at your mother for so easily sending you away for the sake of her crown.

"So you do not intend to?" the girl asked, genuine curiosity laced in her voice.

"No-well, yes..." You stutter, before taking a deep breath, "I do what the Queen asks of me."

"Do not fret, Princess, you will be well taken care of here," she sets a warm hand on your arm and gives you a soft smile, doing her best to calm you in your distressed state. "My brother may be a formidable warrior and leader, but don't let him fool you, he cares very much for those around him. Especially one so beautiful as you."

"Thank you, Sara. I apologize, I fear I've gotten caught up in my worries, leaving my family so suddenly, not even knowing if Lord Stark will accept the proposed betrothal. I have a lot on my mind." you laugh nervously, pushing your food around your plate with your fork (very un-ladylike your septa would tell you).

"You needn't say sorry, Princess," the girl was sweet, and you could tell it was genuine, hopefully, she'd be a fast friend. "And trust me, he will accept the proposal," she whispered to you sneakily.

"And how do you know that? Surely he has better offers," you combat, keeping your voice low as well, Lord Stark barely a foot away from you.

"My brother is smart. He plans to take your brother to the wall and discuss terms, leaving you here to put your impression on the people. He wouldn't have accepted the two of you here without learning more about you first, he knows the good you've done for the realm even as a young Lady. No matter the Queen's standings, he knows he would have someone good by his side. Someone the North could accept." there was something larger at play here you could tell, larger than both yourself and Lord Stark, larger than your mother and Aegon's petty argument. This was about the whole of the North.

"Moreover, my brother is a man, and no man could say no to a pretty woman with a dragon who could give him little dragon babies," she giggles, eliciting a laugh from you as well, "no man is smart enough for that." a louder laugh leaves your mouth from her comment, you cover your mouth with your hand, trying your best to be proper.

"Seems we already have two new friends!" Jacaerys voice interrupting your laughter, "Haven't heard her laugh in years, nose always stuck in a book." your brother teases making you roll your eyes. Lord Stark turns his body to face you, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

"Just as I hoped," he moved his gaze to his sister, his smile grew larger, and you could tell he was grateful for her warm demeanor. "Princess, would you care for a walk?" his eyes were still on his sister but he moved them quickly to you. You turn to Sara, and she gives you a smirk and a small nod, gently pushing your shoulder to go with the Warden.

"Y-yes, my Lord, it would please me greatly," you stand and bow your head. He extends his arm and you hold onto it politely. Even through the thickness of his tunic and cloak, you could feel how strong he was–and it made you blush.

The two of you didn't speak to one another as you walked the streets of Winterfell, he would stop occasionally to greet people though, goodness coming through his rough demeanor. You came to the godswood and walked through, the noise from the streets gone replaced with the whistling of the wind and the quieting chirps of birds as night fell.

"I spoke with your brother," his thick voice filled the silence, "but I wished to speak with you as well before we continue with our terms." He stopped walking and turned to face you, not letting go of your arm.

"Of course, Lord Stark," his lips turn up slightly on one side at your formality.

"As the Queen's terms stated, you need aid from the North, and in exchange, she will give me your hand in marriage. Is this what you wish?" He seemed concerned, more so than he should be.

"Of course, my Lord, whatever my Queen wishes of me." You bow your head to him in submission. Would he be a rough lover? You wondered. Everyone told tales of how brutal of a ruler he could be, how brutal a fighter. Would he be brutal with you? Only see to you to stick an heir in your womb?

"Is that what you wish, Princess?" his arm held yours tighter, a sense of urgency in his tone. "I know of your family, I know that marriage is a duty, it is here in the North too. But in the North, we believe there is also passion in marriage and love. I do not want you to subject yourself to this if you think I am only here to rule you."

"I-I wish for a happy life," you close your eyes, for the first time in your life speaking your truth plainly, "I wish for my family to be safe, children to care for, land for my dragon to fly in peace..." you trail off, his sister may have been right, he may care for those around him, but he was also dangerous to those he did not. Now all you could hope was that there was something he cared about in you.

"Then you shall have it," he spoke with the authority of a king. "I've heard of what you've done in Dragonstone and even King's Landing for your kinsman's people. I wish to have you by my side, not just to wife, but to show the North there is good still left, and we have her fighting for us."

"Thank you, for accepting the proposal, Lord Stark, it would be an honor to serve the North."

"Thank you, Princess," those steely eyes stared straight into yours and you believed him with every part of you. "I will take your brother further North to the wall to discuss the rest of our terms, when I return we shall be wed within a fortnight. Will you be alright here?"

"Yes, my Lord," you smile at him. Duty and passion he had said. You simply couldn't wait for his return, dying to see what his passion felt like.

You made your way back to the hall together, taking your seats again. They would leave at dawn he told you flying on dragon-back. You tried to get him to fly your dragon instead of going with Jace, but he insisted she stay here while he couldn't be here to protect you.

"Ever proud Northmen are," Sara whispered to you, "that dragon could protect an army," you giggle at her joke, glad you would have her here to keep you company the next coming days.

The next days you had hardly a moment's rest, busying yourself with learning more and more of the North's history within the Keep's library. At one point Sara held a lunch for you and some Ladies of the Court. "It will make a good impression." she'd told you. So you put on a smile and listened to the gossip that ensued. It took a moment for the Ladies to warm to you but once Sara revealed that Lord Stark was to have your hand in marriage they flurried into excitement, one of them even offering to sew together your wedding dress at once. You smiled, the North was a cold place, but it was clear that there was a warmth to be found in the community.

"My husband hasn't bed me in years," one of the ladies had said, several of them chiming in saying their husbands did the same, "what I'd give for one of those Stark men, I hear they bed you every night to ensure a babe takes..."

"I hear they know everything of a woman's pleasure, Lord Stark should surely pass a law to all our husbands to do the same."

"My maid saw him bathing once…told me he's got the largest member she's ever seen."

The words flew around you, the women all laughing and giving you jealous looks. Your face grew red at the thought of him bedding you, giving you all the children you could hope for. As wonderful as the welcome of these women was, it was also highly unusual for women in the South to talk about such things with one another, clearly another difference you'd have to grow accustomed to.

"Alright ladies, I'm sure the Princess would appreciate some respite on the wedding talk, as would I with hearing about my brother's cock," Sara spoke loudly, a teasing tone in her voice, but everyone listened nonetheless. She excused the two of you and led you outside for some fresh air. You wrapped the new fur cloak you were given tighter around yourself, still growing used to the cold.

You walked together for a bit before you heard the familiar screech of Vermax in the air. They weren't supposed to return for a few more days...perhaps they had come to an early agreement. You quicken your pace to the front gate, arriving just as your brother and Lord Stark entered.

"How was riding on dragon-back, Lord Stark?" you tease, walking to greet the two of them. But he didn't respond. He walked close to you, a solemn look in his eyes. Something had happened, what happened? He puts a cold hand on your shoulder, casting his gaze downward. "Is everything alright, my Lord?" your voice began to shake. He looks you in the eye once again before walking away. Had the engagement broken off? You wonder, your heart dropping slightly at the thought. Jacaerys didn't move from where he stood a few feet in front of you. His face was blank, void of any emotion trying to break through. "Jace...what's happened, am I to return home now?" he did not answer. You walked to him, grabbing his face in your hands to make him meet your gaze, "Jace, answer me. What's happened?" your voice firm, tears beginning to grow in your eyes from anger as he still said nothing. "Jacaerys!" you shout, and that's when you see it, a crumpled piece of parchment clutched in his hand. The broken seal was that of your mothers, she's sent a raven. Why? You grab the message from him and hastily unfold it, doing your best to make out the tear-stained ink.

No. No. It couldn't be real. Your brother. Your baby brother. The boy too brave for his own good. Lucaerys...

"This isn't real, it can't be..." your chest was tight and your vision began to blur, you looked around you, trying to find someone to give you answers, Jacaerys still mute. You stumbled blindly as your body began to wrack with gasping breaths, you ran into a solid body, grasping on to whoever it was and not letting go.

"Come, Princess, let's get you to your chambers," the deep Northern accent resonated from above you.

"No, my-my, no my baby brother..." your voice barely coherent, "my baby brother..."

"I know, I know, Princess, walk with me," Lord Stark did his best to keep his grasp on you, but to no avail.

"He was a child!" you screamed, pushing yourself away from him. "An innocent boy!" Your body began to tumble backward but Jace was right behind you, standing to hold you upright, his own eyes now leaking tears, trying as he might to keep a brave face. You struggle between the two men as they try to drag you back to the keep. You couldn't breathe, the air inside was suffocating. You threw open the window in your chambers sucking in a deep breath before collapsing to the ground.

You didn't know how many hours had passed, you cried until your tears ran dry and screamed until your lungs gave out. Your wails echoed through the halls. Now you sat beneath the open window, the cold air seeping into your bones as the fire in your chambers died down. War would break out soon over something so trivial. Your family had always been teetering on killing each other and you hated it. It wasn't just Aemond that killed Lucaerys, it was every single one of the Targaryens.

There was a soft knock at your door but you did not acknowledge. Not that it mattered, shortly after the knock the door opened and your brother entered. He shut the door behind him before making his way over to you and sliding down the wall to sit next to you.

"We will leave at dawn," he spoke, turning his head to face you.

"We? Jacaerys, I cannot go back there. This has gone on far too long, since the moment Aegon was born, I am finished being a part of this game of thrones," your voice was broken from the crying and screaming, and it was broken from the pain.

"Mother will want you safe, with her," he combated.

"Safe? I'm safe here Jace, away from the fighting, the safest I've been all my life. The engagement is set now and you have made your terms, my duty is to the North now, and to the North, it will stay," you spoke exasperatedly. You stood from your spot on the ground and made to tend the fire again, "Has Lord Stark given you adequate resources?" you question, trying to change the subject.

"2,000 of his older fighting men, greybeards, he calls them."

"Good, then you will take your leave at dawn. Tell mother I love her, but she cannot send me away only to try and take me back as soon as she loses a child," he nodded at you sadly, tears in his eyes, he was losing his sister too now. "Come here, I'm sorry, but this is what she wanted." You move to him and wrap your arms around him, holding him tightly to you.

"At least let me stay for the wedding," he mumbled into your shoulder.

"You mustn't waste more time, avenge Luke for me, he was the best of us."

"I will. I promise," he told you, right as there was another knock at your door. You clear your hoarse throat, trying to sound the lady you were.

"Enter," yes you tried, but your voice still shook.

"My Prince, Princess," Lord Stark enters the room, giving you each polite nod.

"Please, Cregan, you needn't use formalities, I'm to be your brother soon after all," Jacaerys spoke up, trying his best to lighten the mood. Cregan gave him a smile before he continued speaking.

"Of course, that is what I came to ask. As you are leaving at dawn, I thought you may want to be here for your sister's wedding," his gaze turned to you, almost questioning. "I've had arrangements made and was curious to if the Princess would like for the ceremony to take place tonight?" you tried to interrupt, not sure if you could handle the festivities after such a loss you've endured, but he quickly cut you off before you could say anything, "It would be small, only us and a priest, we will have a feast to celebrate whenever you're ready, Princess." your brows turned down and adoration flooded you, he looked at you steadily for a response.

"Thank you, my Lord, I would love to have my brother here, your thought is much appreciated."

"Thank you, Cregan," Jace extended his hand to give him a firm handshake, the two exchanging grateful looks. The ceremony would be in half an hour under the weirwood tree in the godswood, in the sight of the old gods. It was growing late so you didn't bother trying to call a maid, instead you re-braided your own hair and put on the heavy cloak and thick wool dress you were gifted when you arrived in Winterfell, you looked positively Northern.

Jacaerys took your arm and walked you down the cobbled streets to the godswood, where Lord Stark would be waiting. You hadn't had much time to process everything, still so caught in Luke's passing, but you did know that as Sara once said, you would be well taken care of in Winterfell. It was a clear night, the moon and stars illuminated the path through the trees to where your soon-to-be husband stood. He looked regal standing there, the spitting image of a king. Your brother kissed your forehead before handing you over to Lord Stark. Your mind was foggy. I am his and he is mine. The only words that mattered, and the only ones you would remember.

Your goodbyes to Jace were tearful. He couldn't wait until dawn to leave so he mounted his dragon and left, you knew it was because up there, so high in the clouds he could cry, he didn't have to be a prince.

You walked back to your chambers, Lord Stark escorting you. You weren't sure if you could do this, he would want to consummate you were positive of it, but after the day you'd had...you couldn't muster your strength. You came to your door and waited for him to enter before you shut the door behind you, you stood there, not certain if you should wait for him or just get it over with. You turned and watched as he removed his cloak before adding another log to the fire. Get it over with. You told yourself, removing your own cloak and boots before starting on the strings of your dress.

"What are you doing, Princess?" He looked at you, confused, walking over to you quickly and pulling your dress back on your shoulders.

"This is my duty, Lord Stark," you said tearfully. He gave a slight laugh before taking your face in his hands, making you look him in the eye.

"No, no, not tonight, I only came to tend your fire, it's been a long day for you, I will never expect anything of you." you wrapped your arms around him suddenly, aching to be held. And that he did, one arm was around your shoulders and the other cradled the back of your head pulling you close.

"Thank you, again, my Lord," you mumbled into his chest. He pushed you away, and a teasing smile played on his face.

"Never mind, I will expect one thing of you, and that is to call me by my name, no more 'My Lords' or 'Lord Stark'. You are my wife."

"Then thank you, Cregan, for treating me so very well," you smiled at him, "no more 'princess' either, I am no longer one after all," you spoke back. The smile on your face turns down.

"Very well, I will leave you to rest then," he spoke your name as he pressed a kiss to your cheek and made his way to the door. You didn't want him to leave. He was yours now, you wanted him with you, to protect you and care for you in your hours of sorrow.

"Cregan," you called out softly, your dress now slipping off your shoulders again. He turned back, a hopeful look in his eye, "Stay with me?" he said nothing as he walked back to you, ridding himself of the cloak he held before removing his boots, you continued with the strings of your dress, trying your best to reach behind your back when you suddenly felt warm fingers entangled with yours and he continued your work. You were left in a linen slip, standing close to the fire to keep yourself warm. You watched as he unbuckled his belt and removed his doublet, he walked slowly to one side of the bed and placed his formidable sword next to the bed. He held back the fur coverings and nodded to you, motioning you to climb in the bed. Your steps were slow and cautious, but you trusted him. You moved beneath the furs, instantly feeling much warmer, your body heated even more when Cregan moved in next to you holding out his arm so you could fall into his body. It felt right, you were warm, you were safe, you were cared for. Your head lay across his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat as you fell asleep.

"Always, dear wife," he spoke into the silence of the night where he soon fell asleep with you to the dying embers on the hearth.

_________________

You spent your days the next few weeks trying to take hold of your grief, you did your best, keeping your head buried in books to distract yourself. Cregan would take you with him to various meetings and suppers, you were thankful for the distraction and you slowly drew closer to him. You continued on with your arrangement, he would see to your chambers in the evening, tend the fire, and climb into the bed with you, stroking your hair till you slept. But with that, you grew more and more frustrated, his closeness began to stir something in you, a deep longing. You woke one night with the space beside you empty, you sat up in the bed hastily calling out his name. He was standing at the window staring into the darkness of the night, he had taken his tunic off, something he hadn't done in front of you yet, and his back was stiff and muscular from years of training. His arms–now bare–you could see exactly how strong he was, a force to be reckoned with. He hadn't heard you call his name so you slowly slid out of the bed, tugging on the silk robe one of your ladies' maids had embroidered for you, direwolves wrapping around your neck, and snowflakes falling down the sleeves. You walked to where Cregan stood, standing close to him and peering out the window along with him. The wolves were howling in the night causing a chill to run through you, you still couldn't tell what their cries meant, were they mourning with you? Were they angry? Hungry?

"It's said the blood of the first men runs through your veins, that I believe," you spoke into the night. "there's also a folk tale that says the Stark men who have that blood can turn to direwolves when they wish, that... I'm still not sure of." Cregan smiles at the sound of your sleepy voice.

"You've been reading," he states, looking to meet your eyes.

"Yes, I like learning about your people, and your library is always kept so warm," you giggle, thinking of the cozy days you've spent in there.

"I wish that tale were true...it would make ruling so much easier, I wouldn't have to go to meetings anymore, I could intimidate people without having to use my sword, protect my people better..." he sounded hopeful as if he believed he still had a chance for the tale to come true.

"You are a good ruler, you would make a splendid King," you told him, grabbing his hand to hold within yours, despite the cold of the night you could feel his blood still running hot.

"A King?" he questioned, never more than just the Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North.

"Your people were kings for thousands of years, my ancestors took that away from you so they could unite and rule a monarchy," you say, speaking of all the books you've been reading, "In my eyes, you are still the King in the North, and the North remembers, your people remember."

"What you speak is treason, treason to your mother the Queen, and your family!" A man of honor. He pledged himself to the Queen, he would not back out of his oath, even if this is what the North had for thousands of years.

"Perhaps, but my duty is here now. We will let them fight amongst themselves as we prepare for something bigger...your kin, and mine," you give him a look of urgency. "My mother told me of the Prince who was Promised. The Song of Ice and Fire. The book I've seen sitting on your desk..." he knows what is to happen, every Stark Lord is told and does well to abide by it. Cregan was shocked to know you had knowledge of it, and even more shocked that you would put aside your family and call yourself a traitor all for a prophecy.

"My wife..." he trails, worried that this would grow into something far out of his reach.

"Your oath to the prophecy proceeds that of your oath to my mother. We will not betray her, but we must survive for the whole of the realm," you're holding both his hands now, looking at him desperately. He knows this is true.

"We will survive," he states, agreeing with you. "but I will not be the king."

"You will be my King," your eyes draw closed as you sink to your knees. "I have wed myself to you, now I pledge myself to you, I know no King, but the King in the North, whose name is Stark." His eyes fill with adoration as he looks down at you, soon following suit to kneel with you on the ground.

"Then you will be my Queen," his words ring clear and true as he rests his forehead against yours, drawing you close to him. "come to bed with me, our celebration feast is tomorrow, and you need your rest." He stands and extends his hand to help you up and doesn't let go once you are standing as well. He leads you to the bed letting you get yourself comfortable before laying beside you, your faces mere inches away as you stare into one another's eyes.

"Cregan," you whisper, your eyes flitting down to look at his lips, his mouth was slightly open and he spoke your name back to you, "Please kiss me." he wasted not a second, moving those few inches to connect your lips, he was warm all over, the pure fire that warmed the North, his lips were dry and slightly cracked but they were full and consumed you whole. He pulled away before anything went too far and a giggle left your mouth as you looked at his reddened face. He smiled at you before placing another kiss on your forehead and pulling you close. You both fell asleep fast, holding each other until the sun rose.

The next day was a flurry of commotion to prepare for the feast. The lady from the lunch you'd had with Sara (who you now learned was Lady Umber, wife of Lord Umber) insisted you wore the dress she had sewn for your wedding ceremony, claiming you had to wear it to the feast if the ceremony had already happened. You complied for the dress was stunning, thick and woolen, a real northern dress lined with white furs and embroidered with the direwolf sigil. Foods were rushed into the great hall as garlands were hung on the hearths. One of your ladies was finishing braiding your hair in a northern fashion like you'd insisted when there was a knock at your door.

"My Lord," your lady bowed before finishing the braid and swiftly exiting to leave the two of you alone.

"You look beautiful," Cregan said softly as he made his way over to you, he grabbed a piece of your silver hair between his fingers and twirled it, "I do hope our children take after their mother." he teased, letting go of your hair in favor of taking your hand to place a kiss on your knuckle.

"I hope they take after their father," you tease back, "true little wolves they'd be," he smiled brightly at you, but behind his eyes, there was a darkness, a yearning, one that you knew for certain he had been holding back for weeks.

"Let's be on our way then, the people are waiting for the new Lady of Winterfell," even though the two of you were wed already, it still didn't feel real thinking that you were to be the new Lady of Winterfell. You'd done your best in your mourning of Lucaerys to try and connect with the people, all you could hope is that they would accept you now.

The feast was in full swing when you arrived, shouts and songs echoed in the hall but all grew silent as you and Cregan entered, making your way to the head table. You reached the front and turned to face the people, hand in hand.

"Thank you all for welcoming our new Lady of Winterfell!" Cregan shouted over the masses, and a roar of cheers erupted. "You will do well to remember our new allegiance to the Queen Rheanyra and keep your honor. These past weeks as you've welcomed our new Lady of Winterfell you may know that she has lost a brother to the usurper of the Iron Throne, we will keep in the North for our duties, but if war reaches us, think of the Prince Lucaerys and his sister, the North remembers!" more shouts echo in the halls as tears fill your eyes at the mention of your brother.

"Now, this is a celebration of our marriage, please, celebrate!" the halls resume their shouts and songs as Cregan leads you to your seat beside him, your glasses immediately being filled to the brim with wine. You make eye contact with your husband, giving him a grateful look, a silent thank you. He gives your hand a squeeze in acknowledgment.

As the celebrating continues Lords and Ladies of the surrounding Northern lands flood to your table, gifting you with all sorts of words and treasures–mostly it was the ladies sneakily whispering if you'd been bred proper yet–to which your response was a deep blush before sending them away. You do your best to match the names of those you read about to the faces you saw. Currently speaking to you were the Lord and Lady Mormont of Bear Island, more so the Lord Mormont and Cregan discussing recent wildling attacks further North. You and Lady Mormont faced each other in an awkward silence, Sara beside you at the high table waiting for the conversation to start.

"So... Lady Stark can we hope for some wolf pups soon, maybe even an heir to Winterfell?" of all the things she chose to speak about...

"Oh um...yes, I suppose..." You try to smile along. Sara beside you stifling a laugh

"Surprised you aren't already, those Stark men are something fierce," she continues.

"What are we speaking of now wife?" Lord Mormont chimes in. Oh no. He was a burly man, one of honor and tradition...

"Oh I was just asking the Lady Stark when we should expect a babe," she laughs, linking her arm with her husbands.

"She's not yet?" Mormont sounds exasperated, "You may be my Lord, Stark, but come on lad! You should be fucking her till your seed takes, surely it's been too long now!" your face grows redder than it was already, an uneasy look on your face, this had gone too far. Cregan could see the look on your face and immediately took control.

"That'll be enough, Mormont," his voice went lower in pitch as he reminded Lord Mormont of his place. "I think it's high time we all retired, I will send a raven when I need to speak to you, no sooner will I hear from you." Lord Mormont looked down in shame, put in his rightful place.

"Yes, My Lord, My Lady," a single bow and he and his wife were on their way, the rest of the people in the hall filling out shortly after hearing the altercation. Cregan stood and took your hand again, walking you to your chambers at a fast pace, one you could hardly keep up with. Once in the room, he slammed the door shut before throwing down his cloak and rubbing his forehead in annoyance.

"I'm so sorry, I should've warned you people in the North are very attached to customs–" you cut him off.

"When will you bed me?" you asked, genuinely confused.

"I-I believed you wanted to wait longer..." He trails off, slightly taken aback by your question.

"I'm tired of laying next to you in bed growing more and more desperate each night," you spoke your truth and saw his back straighten, eyes darkening as he walked closer to you, almost stalking you like prey, "I cannot say how many Ladies tonight asked me if you'd put a babe in me yet."

He loomed closer to you, "And what did you tell them..." the hairs on your neck stood at the deepness of his voice.

"I-I didn't say anything," you respond, head hanging down. He lifts your chin to meet his gaze.

"But what did you want to tell them?"

"That you'd fill me every night till a babe took." your voice grew confident, he was giving you the sense that this was something he deeply, deeply, desired.

"Would you like to do that?" his hand cradled your face now, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. Your breath hitches in your throat, and thoughts flood your mind about what he would be like, he was a strong man, but he was gentle with you, would he be desperate enough to take you hard?

"Give me a babe, Cregan," it was over. All sense of self-control that he held was now burning in the fire. The hand that was on your face moved to the back of your head, tugging you to meet his lips, he devoured you. It wasn't like the gentle kiss he gave you last night, it was depraved, his tongue wrapped around yours, teeth clashing together with an uncontrolled hunger. His mouth began to move down your neck and you felt him nip at you, soothing over the spot with his tongue. He began to walk backward towards the bed, still holding your body close. Your hands grew restless, grabbing onto him anywhere that you could, you soon found them tangled in his hair, tugging slightly.

His hands were roaming your body now, he was restraining himself from ripping your dress right off of you, but he knew it would make you sad, what a pretty dress. He moved his hands back, beginning to undo the buckles on his doublet, you broke away from his kiss for a moment and leaned down to remove your boots. It was all a flurry of motion as the two of you hastily began to undress yourselves, at this point, he was left in only his trousers and you in your shift and corset. You made eye contact for a moment the both of you smiling giddily. He raised his hands and started on the laces on the back of your corset, his arms were wrapped around you, your face staring straight at his chest where you grew bold and started to press kisses across the expanse. The corset–now loosened–fell from your body, Cregan could see the hardness of your nipples through the thin slip dress and proceeded to cup your breasts in his hands, tweaking the hardened peaks through the fabric. Slowly–so slowly you hadn't even noticed at first–he sank to his knees in front of you, when he reached the ground his hands started running up and down your legs caressing you while moving the shift upwards. He took one hand and placed it on the center of your belly, pushing, and in one motion you lay back on the bed, your husband still on his knees in front of you. he continued to move the dress up until it hung around your waist, you sat up on your elbows and looked down at him nervously, your center now fully exposed to him.

"Do not worry, sweet wife, I want to make you feel good," you nodded at him as he drew closer to you, his hands slowly dragging up your thighs, his thumbs rubbing the insides gently, growing closer and closer to your heat. He spread your legs further apart, looking at you once more before taking a finger and running it through your slick. You moaned out a curse and fell back onto the bed, the furs around you enveloping you in warmth. Cregan carries on running his fingers through your sex, they would barely dip inside of you before he moved them back up to circle your clit, causing a teasing repetition.

"Please, Cregan, I need more," you beg.

"More? You really have been needy," he teases, his other hand moving underneath you to squeeze your behind, "Alright, then, whatever my wife wants, she shall get." You were waiting for him to move, to get up and remove his trousers so he could fuck you. But no, his warm mouth licked a stripe up your slit and followed the same motions his fingers did, never staying in one place long enough. You cried out again, moving your hands down to tangle in his hair again. He teased you a little longer before his mouth kept place on your pulsing bud, alternating between sucking and licking at you. It was heavenly, you'd never been touched like this by a man, he was pouring all his adoration into you. And as good as it did feel, you still needed more, you felt nothing would satiate you until you were dripping with his seed.

"I-I want you to fuck me now," you barely breathe out between heavy breaths, he moves his head away from your core after pressing one last kiss to your clit. A smirk grew on his face, loving the way you were practically begging for his cock. He moved agonizingly slow, standing to his feet and staring down at where you lay on the bed. He refused to move his gaze away from you as he began untying the strings on his trousers, "please..." you breathe out in a breath of desperation. His trousers fell to the ground and you move your eyes to his center where his cock hung heavy, tip red and leaking, aching for your wetness to swallow him whole.

"You want me to fill you up now?" you nodded eagerly, itching to feel his body on top of you. He lifts you by the waist pushing your body up the bed like you weigh nothing, he removes your shift entirely now, pulling it swiftly over your head. "Tell me if you need to stop, alright? His tone shifted into seriousness. You breathe a yes in response. His body moves to hover over you and his head dips down to press gentle kisses against your chest, trailing down to lick at your nipples. You feel one of his hands reach between your bodies before the blunt head of his member runs through your slick. You grab onto his upper arms, steadying yourself as you prepare for him to push into you, he goes torturously slow and you grip onto him harder, a silent way of begging him to take you already. The stretch hurts a bit, not as bad as everyone had told you but the wetness surely helped dull some of the pain. He groans as he seats himself in you fully, not moving, you rock your hips into him trying to create some friction.

"Cregan, please, it feels so good, just take me already!" he lets out a breathless laugh at your restlessness, his mouth open and panting. He pulls out in one motion before thrusting into you again. And again. And again. This is what you had wanted, for this fierce warrior to lose himself in you fulfilling a yearning desire to fill you up completely. Your moans ring against the walls and you do your best to hold yourself together before you utterly fall apart. The bed creaks as he rocks into you, his pace growing quicker and quicker.

"Fuck!" Cregan grunts out through clenched teeth. The sight above you is heavenly, strands of his dark hair frame his face, some sticking slightly where a sweat begins to sheen on his brow. His jaw was tight, and his body was stiff, a deep concentration in his features. Then, in one sudden movement, he pulls himself out of you to flip you onto your front, yanking your hips up before plunging deep inside you again. The pleasure from this angle was insurmountable, the head of his cock hit the back of your tight walls repeatedly, fucking straight into your womb. You prayed for a brief moment, begging whatever gods were listening that his seed would take and you would soon have pups to take care of. His hands gripped your hips tight, surely there would be bruises tomorrow and surely he would feel horrible about it, but you cared not. The rawness of his passion would remain on your body. A subtle heat grew in your belly and it became warmer and warmer.

"Cregan, I-I think something is happening," you mutter from where your face was squished into the furs on the bed. He groaned out another curse before speaking again.

"Let go, let go for me," his voice still strained in pleasure, "I'm gonna fill you up now, and every. Single. Night. Until it takes," his thrusts annunciating his speech. The coil in your belly grew tighter until it finally snapped and you moaned out blissfully. His thrusts didn't stop and you grew more and more sensitive, but he did not last much longer after you, cursing out one final time before emptying himself right against your cervix.

When he pulled out of you, you could feel his expense steadily beginning to drip out of you, but his fingers soon found your center again, scooping it up before pushing it back inside of you. And if that wasn't the most arousing thing ever...

"Can't have you wasting any of that, can we?" he wipes his fingers off on the bed and climbs in under the furs, beckoning you to come lay with him. You crawl to him and fall into him unceremoniously. His arms pull you in close and hold you tight and his lips fall down to press a kiss to the top of your head. There was a smile on your face, and you weren't sure if you'd be able to stop smiling. You shift your head and turn to look him in the eye, only to find he is already looking at you, his own smile shining down at you.

"Even after a babe takes..." you begin and his eyes sparkle in the dim lighting of the chambers, "can we still do that?" his smile grows wider and he huffs out a small laugh.

"Of course! I don't know if I would be able to keep myself off of you knowing that you are carrying our child, you'll be the most beautiful mother." he lifts a hand to stroke your hair, the same way he's done the nights you've shared the past few weeks.

"Well, then I hope we'll have a little prince or princess on the way soon," his brow furrows in confusion at the titles and he asks a silent question with his eyes, "You are a king after all! Our babes will be royalty."

"I've told you, I'm no king," his eyes held back a sadness.

"As I have told you, dear husband, you are my king," it was your turn to hold his face in your hands, the stubble on his cheeks scratching against your palms, "I will know no other." he leaned down to press his forehead against yours and you sat together in the quiet of the night, with only the company of each other until you fell asleep. A sleep where you dreamed of a family with him, boys running through the godswood being chased playfully by their father, a young girl sitting upon your lap as you flew your dragon over the forests of the vast Northlands. The lands where your husband would be your king.

[howcouldmuffin]

Beneath the Betrothal.

After the engagement was announced, and you realized that waiting was no longer the right path, you decided to start anew.

PAIRING : Jacearys Velaryon x Fem!Reader

WARNING : NSFW, Targaryen incest, Non-canon, SMUT, Sex Content

AN : This is the first fanfic l've written. I apologize if there are any mistakes. Please feel free to give me any feedback. Love.

please be kind to me English is not my first language.

Many years have passed since your father Viserys announced the betrothal to Jacaerys, who although your nephew, is older than you. No one in House Hightower was pleased with this news, except for you.

You were raised differently from your siblings—the youngest daughter born with your father’s expectations. He had you share the same wet nurse as Jacaerys and your older brother Daeron. You grew up with the Velaryon family, witnessing the differences between your eldest sister Rhaenyra and your mother Alicent.

Although you had been friends with Jacaerys since childhood, the words that everyone kept telling you “that you would marry him” filled your mind with dreams. You fell in love with him, but you knew that he didn’t love you the same way. He was a charming young man, a gentleman with honor, admired by all. Many were fond of him. The prince of the Seven Kingdoms.

When Rhaenyra ascended to the throne, everyone swore oaths of loyalty and service to her without question. Many lords came to pay their respects to the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Jacaerys was appointed as the heir to the Iron Throne, and your betrothal was announced once again, but it was never mentioned again after that.

At first, you thought it was just a matter of waiting for things to settle down before the important ceremony would take place. But as time went on, you began to question it, and eventually, you found the answer. It was Jacaerys who requested that the wedding be postponed. You were shattered by this news—it hurt as though your heart had been broken into pieces.

There have been months of silence and unspoken words between you and Jacaerys. Even the gatekeepers of the Red Keep are aware of the situation. The whispers and rumors have started to grow louder—some say the prince already has someone he wishes to marry, or perhaps he dislikes his betrothed because she is a Hightower. None of the answers bring you any truth.

But it has made you realize that waiting is no longer the right course of action. It’s time to start looking for potential suitors from great houses. Soon, there will be a grand event at the Red Keep once again—the second-year anniversary of Queen Rhaenyra’s reign. Nobles and knights from all over the realm will gather here. It could be a good opportunity to find a new way forward.

“I wish to see my queen.” you said to the knight guarding your sister’s chamber door. They nodded slightly and stepped aside to let you enter.

“Your Grace.” you said as you entered the room, immediately curtseying to the queen. “If it pleases you, I have something I wish to discuss.” Rhaenyra paused her writing and looked up.

“Sister.” she said, rising and walking towards you. “What is it you wish to speak with me about?” The queen gently led you to a nearby sofa and lightly took your hand.

“I’ve come to talk about my betrothal to the prince.”

“If you’d like to discuss how you’d like the ceremony to be arranged, or if there’s anything additional you’d like to request, you can speak to me directly.”

“No, Your Grace. I… I wish to call off the engagement.”

“Oh, dear, why would you want to cancel the betrothal? Have you found someone you prefer?”

“No, Your Grace. I just think it might be better if the prince and I were free to choose someone we truly like and love.” Rhaenyra laughed softly at your words. She raised her hand to cup your face, gently turning you to look into her eyes. You lifted your hand to hold hers in return.

“Listen to me, dear. There’s no one more suited to be the next queen than you. Don’t let others’ words sway you.”

“I’m sorry, Your Grace, but I truly wish to call off the engagement. Please, I ask you to consider it.” You gently moved her hand away from your face, holding it firmly in yours.

“If that is what you desire, I will take it under consideration. But I ask that you think it over once more, my dear.” After expressing your wishes, you moved to embrace your sister, always understanding her no matter what.

Before long, the grand celebration was in full swing, with people gathering to offer their congratulations to their queen. Today, you woke up much earlier than usual. You were an integral part of organizing the feast—the floral decorations, the guest list of important attendees. You were determined to ensure that your sister’s special day would go smoothly.

The dress you wore today was long and red, with an off-the-shoulder design that revealed your neckline. It was beautifully embroidered with golden patterns around the dress. Your hair was partially braided and pinned up, with natural curls left to fall gracefully. You glanced at the necklace on your vanity table—the one Jacaerys had given you for your birthday many years ago. In the end, you chose not to wear it, opting instead for another necklace that matched your dress just as well.

“You look stunning, Princess.” your handmaiden remarked as she finished styling your hair.

“Thank you. You can leave now, I’ll take care of the rest myself.” She curtseied and left the room as instructed.

You slowly turned to the mirror, gazing at your reflection for a moment before preparing to head to the feast. By now, your mother was likely waiting for you. But as the door closed behind your handmaiden, you sensed someone else was in the room.

“What were you thinking, trying to call off the engagement?” Jacaerys spoke, his voice sharp. He was the last person you wanted to see right now. It was the first conversation in months that left a lasting impression.

“Prince.” you greeted him with a curtsey. “I just thought—” He stepped closer to you, so close that it nearly took your breath away. He looked angrier than you could ever remember seeing him.

“Is there someone else you’re in love with?”

“No, Your Highness.” you replied.

“Let’s go. The others must be waiting for us.” he said, lifting one arm. At first, you weren’t sure what he meant, but then you placed your hand on his arm.

Walking into the feast together might be normal for a married couple or an engaged pair, but it felt strange for the two of you, who hadn’t exchanged a meaningful word in so long. As you entered the great hall, you could feel the eyes of many upon you and your betrothed.

Everyone stood to pay their respects to you and their prince, creating an odd pressure on you. Jacaerys looked every bit the heir to the Iron Throne today. His attire included a cloak with a pattern matching your dress, likely arranged by Rhaenyra.

When you reached the queen’s table, you both bowed to the highest authority in the realm before going your separate ways. He sat beside his brother Lucerys, while you took a seat next to your brother Aemond.

“Beautiful dress, sister.” Aemond’s comment was more likely a tease than a compliment.

“Thank you, brother. I think it’s lovely as well.”

The feast began after Rhaenyra’s announcement, and the music started to play. People began to dance in the center of the hall. Conversations with your siblings took place, and although they didn’t think highly of your betrothed, they chose not to voice any further objections.

“Would you like to dance, sister?” Daeron, your youngest brother, asked. Why not? He was as renowned for his looks in the family as you were. Although you hadn’t grown up together much, he was the second person you consulted about your betrothed, after Helena.

With the music playing, you and your brother enjoyed the dance. As the Westerosi-style dance continued, many people joined in with you. Dancing gave you the opportunity to talk with a variety of men. Some were genuine friends, but most had other intentions beyond mere friendship.

“I think it would be the greatest mistake on your part to let her go.” Rhaenyra said to her son, who had been staring at you intently, prompting her to speak up.

“What are you talking about?” Jacaerys turned his attention to his mother, confusion evident on his face.

“You know very well what I’m talking about.” she said, meeting his gaze. “If you don’t truly care for her, then let her go. She deserves to find someone who truly loves her.” He remained silent, not responding, and merely finished his drink.

He stood up from the table and left the feast abruptly. With so many people in the hall, no one seemed to notice the prince’s departure. Now, Jacaerys was at a loss, angry with you for reasons he was struggling to address. He was searching for a way to make you pay for what you had done to him.

Once the door to your room closed behind you, you had just returned from the feast. Separating yourself from the men had left you quite exhausted, and you were eager to take a relaxing bath.

“Did you enjoy getting close to other men who aren’t your betrothed?” A familiar voice spoke up. You were startled to hear him, Jacaerys was sitting on your bed, glaring at you with a reprimanding look.

“How did you get into my room?” you asked, and moving closer to him. “When did you ever care that I’m your betrothed?”

“I’ve always cared about you, but what I know is that you haven’t shown any interest in me.”

“No interest, you say?” You stepped closer to him and leaned in. “I wouldn’t be asking to postpone the wedding if I didn’t care.”

“I care about you!” he shouted, making you jump. He had never acted this way towards you before. He stood up and approached you.

“And wanting to postpone the wedding means you don’t want to marry me, doesn’t it? What are you trying to say? If you hate me, just say it, Jacaerys Velaryon. I will not tolerate your mind games any longer.”

“You don’t understand me.” he said, stepping closer. You backed away in response. “I want you to be ready, ready to bear my children. If we marry, producing an heir will come first, and I know if you were to become pregnant too soon, it would be you who would leave me.”

With no space left to retreat, you and he were face to face. He placed one hand on the back of your neck, holding your gaze, while his other hand gently caressed your face.

“Listen to me. I have always loved you, and I will continue to love you until the day I die. You are the only one who makes me feel like myself, who I constantly long for. You will be the only one by my side.” His eyes, looking at you, were so beautiful.

“May I kiss you?” he asked.

You didn’t respond but immediately leaned in to kiss him. He kissed you back without hesitation as well. Both of you embraced each other as if you were missing warmth from one another. The taste he gave you was sweet and surprisingly addictive. He treated you with reverence and gentleness.

The physical connection between the two of you came together quickly as if drawn by opposing magnetic forces. You and he slowly walked towards the bed. Jacearys gently lifted you onto the bed and stood beside it. Both of you looked at each other for a moment before he slowly began to remove his outer shirt.

“Don’t tear my clothes.” you said, seeming to have less patience than him. You slowly removed your dress, leaving only the sheer undergarments. He chuckled softly and leaned down to kiss your neck, moving from your collarbone to your chest, your stomach, and the center of your body.

“Do you want to stop?” he asked. “If we stop now, you might not regret it.” He ran his finger along the waistband of your underwear, the small piece that was covering you at the moment. He kissed your stomach again, followed by your collarbone and neck.

“We’ve come too far to stop now.” you said. “Please, my prince.” You placed your hand on his hair, marveling at its natural waves. The prince slowly removed the sheer garment that covered you

“You are so beautiful, perfectly suited for me.” he said, kissing your chest. His other hand gently squeezed it, leaving the imprint of his fingers. He nipped at your nipple and licked it slowly. Your desire surged, and you craved even more.

He slowly used his hands to remove your small panties. Soon, heaven was revealed before him. His hands parted your legs, and he leaned down to taste the sweetness between your thighs. His nose brushed against your clit, driving you nearly insane.

You moaned, "Please, my prince, I need more." You were now very wet. Jacearys, undoubtedly aware, playfully teased your little cunt with his tongue, and the lewd sounds echoed throughout your bedroom.

“What do you want, beautiful?” he asked, using his other hand to play with your erect nipple.

“I want you, Jacearys.” you moaned again. He fuck you with his fingers in your sweet cunt. His fingers pushed deeper inside you while his mouth licked at your clit.

“Who do you belong to?” he murmured, then turned to mark your thigh instead.

"I am yours." you breathed heavily. "Yours, Jacearys." Soon, your moans rose again, your body convulsing slightly as it tightened around his fingers.

"Look at what you've done to me, how hard it is." He slowly took off his pants, showcasing his erect state. He stroked it once or twice and then slowly entered.

"Oh, fuck." he moaned. "It's so tight." He stayed inside for a while and then gradually moved his body so that you wouldn't feel pain.

“Such a sweet cunt” He kept accelerating his hip rhythm, the impact sounded all over the room, wondering how someone was guarding the door of the room today, he knew what you and our prince was doing.

The time that passes each minute is precious to you now. You feel that you are very sensitive even if it is just a little touch. But you can't deny how much you like it every time you feel him in your own body.

“I'm very close.”

“At the same time”

White drops also dripped out of him. He pushed himself deeper into you. The moans of the couple said very well. He cum inside of you, your irregular breathing and he touched each other's skin.

He leaned down to kiss you again, sweeter than ever before. His hair fell down around you, creating an incredibly seductive scene. One of your hands gently caressed his cheek. You needed nothing more when he was by your side.

“I am yours, and you are mine, Whatever may come.” He whispered

“I am yours, and you are mine, Whatever may come.”

[intheheartoftheking]

Higher, Faster, Further (Birds of Prey)

Jacaerys Velaryon x Aunt!Targaryen oc x Aemond Targaryen

strangers to lovers, implied sexual content but no smut (yet), targcest (reader is aunt), semi angst(?), aemond being aemond, diplomat!Jace (but Jace knows how to fight), no betrothal and lucerys is alive

summary: After Aegon seized the throne, Jacaerys and Aemond were dispatched to ensure the loyalty of House Arryn and the Vale. However, their mission took an unexpected turn when they encountered Lady Jane Arryn's ward, leading to a tangled web of lies, deceit, and power struggles.

word count: 1,450

a/n: I had this idea for the longest time and I was so nervous to publish because this fandom has some of the best writers. I hope you enjoy my brainrot and please leave comments and suggestions to add in future chapters. this is a short ish story (I think.) let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! ill also be adding a playlist soon! xoxo p.s. thanks @damewritesalot for hyping this up

Daella squinted as the light peering in from outside hit her face, awoken by the sounds of grumbling dragons. She felt a body shift beside her as she realized she was trapped in the embrace of Aemond Targaryen, and to her right was Jacaerys Valeryon sleeping peacefully. She sighed as she realized what she had done. "How did I get here?" she thought, combing through her memories. 

It was a quiet day in the Vale with no real issues aside from petty squabbles of livestock. Daella had been sent by her aunt, Lady Arryn, to handle these minor issues, much to Daella's protest. Ultimately, Daella would always please her Lady aunt; she was the closest thing she had to a mother after her own passed away and her father abandoned her. Although Daella was born in a marriage, her father regarded her as a bastard. She was always making sure to ignore her exitance in favor of his silver-haired children. 

For this reason, Daella made it her life purpose to make herself deadly. She promised never to marry and become the most fearsome warrior in the Vale. And Daella was precisely that. The only thing that could make her the ultimate killer would be a dragon, and her lady aunt was more than grateful that Daemon never returned to claim the girl or bring her a dragon egg. 

But Daella and her lady aunt could not be prepared to watch two dragons enter the Vale. Daella raced to catch up with the beast in the sky, abandoning all duties. Her dark hair was wild in the wind as her ties came undone, allowing the silver highlights to shine through. 

As she made her way to Runestone, she watched the first rider land. Her aunt, Lady Arryn, made her way outside and beckoned Daella to her. The young woman dismounted her horse, passing it off to a stable hand. "Oh, Daella, what am I going to do with you." her aunt frowned, eyeing her disheveled appearance. "I believe my appearance is the least of our worries, aunt. If there are dragons in the Vale," she glared for a second. A much more giant dragon landed, dismounting down with much ease.

"Prince Jacearys Valeryon," her aunt spoke as the first rider approached her, removing his gloves and extending a slight bow to her aunt. "Lady Arryn, I have come to ask your support of my mother's claim." Daella and her aunt looked confused at one another; your house had already pled fealty for Rhaenyra many years ago.  "The false queen," another voice chuckled. "King Aegon resides on the throne," he growled. 

Her aunt frowned. "Prince Aemond, it is a pleasure that you have finally made your way to the Vale. It seems that you both seek the support of House Arryn and the noble houses of the Vale." she shook her head. "I will invite you both to stay; the weather is turning; we must discuss much. News reaches the Vale ever so slowly," she said ever the diplomat. The two princes nodded, following behind her aunt, the distrust of one another thick in the air. 

Later that evening, Lady Arryn decided a feast would be most appropriate for welcoming the princes to the Vale for the first time. 

Daella shifted uncomfortably in her dark blue dress, her chestnut and silver hair adorned with silver stars and moons. "You look beautiful, my lady," a maid remarked as she adjusted her cuff. "I don't feel beautiful; I feel uncomfortable," Daella grumbled. 

A soft knock on her door alerted her maids, "My lady, the prince is here to escort you." 

She raised a brow. "The prince? Which one?" she questioned her maid 

"Both of them," the maid answered, a blush creeping on her cheeks. 

Daella scowled, "Shut the door; the princes can wait." She shouted loud enough for them to hear as the maid shut the heavy door on them, leaving both princes stunned by her boldness. 

"Escorting me." she huffed. "Who do they think they are coming to escort me." As she approached the door, she could hear them both arguing. 

"There is no need to be upset; I'm sure she knows you're a STRONG prince." She could hear Aemonds voice tease Jacearys. Her eyes widened. She knew of the rumors of his parentage. 

However, she had never believed that his family would be so bold as to mock him. 

She threw her doors open, interrupting the constant mocking. "I will be escorting myself," Daella said matter of factly, pushing past the two. 

Walking down the hall, she heard their footsteps behind her. 

"Please, my lady," Jacearys pleaded. "Lady Arryn has requested that we accompany you, and we don't wish to upset her."  

Daella turned, narrowing her eyes at Jacearys. "You do not wish to upset my lady aunt, or WE do not wish to upset her?" Jacearys shifted uncomfortably under her gaze while Aemond stared on smugly. "Because truthfully, I don't quite care about my lady aunts' opinions this evening." She whispered loud enough for both princes to hear before turning down the corridor, leaving a dumbfounded Jacearys and a very intrigued Aemond.

"Perhaps whoever secures the vale might secure more than they bargained for." He thought to himself. 

The feast had already begun in the great hall, and the noise of the bards and revelry were celebrating the visit of the two young princes, ignoring the grim circumstances that led them to the Vale in the first place. 

As Daella entered, a hush fell over the room. The men of the high houses, ogling her youth and beauty, examined her like a prize for their unmarried sons or even themselves. 

Her Lady Aunt stood. "My beautiful niece Daella, how pleasant of you to join us." She spoke softly, but Daella could see the disappointment in her eyes as she noticed the lack of princes at her side. 

Her face soon turned to concern as she looked up to see that Prince Aemond was walking to stand beside her niece. 

Prince Aemond reminded Lady Arryn of someone—Daemon, a man she hoped would never return to Daella's life, especially after her mother's death. If this prince inherited any of Daemon's traits, as she feared, it would only spell destruction and heartbreak for her dear niece. 

As he opened his mouth to speak, Jacearys cut him off. "Lady Arryn, Lady Daella, if you would do me the kindness of granting me the first dance of the evening." 

Daella groaned internally as her aunt accepted the invitation on her behalf. A sense of uncertainty loomed as she took his hand. 

Meanwhile, Jacearys stared down Aemond smugly as he led her away. 

"You seem incredibly close with your Lady Aunt," he questioned as they danced, hoping to learn something from her to use to his advantage. 

"She's raised me since I was a babe; I'm her ward." He nodded slowly. And what of your mother? Or your father?" he prodded. 

Daella scowled at him, unsure if she wanted to reveal the truth about her parentage to him or change the subject. "My mother died in childbirth, and my father was a soldier." She lied. If Daemon didn't see it necessary to tell his stepson of his legitimate child from his first wife, she didn't feel the need to add more confusion. 

He hummed, accepting the answer but knowing there seemed to be more. As he spun Daella, they could feel Aemonds gaze peering into them. Jacearys couldn't tell if it was jealousy or annoyance since they were both working to attain House Arryn and the Vale. 

Daella and Jacearys chatted for three dances, learning superficial things about one another. 

If he had to marry her to secure the alliance, it seemed as if they could be happy together. 

Throughout the night, gentlemen began to cut into their dances, wishing to spend time with the future Lady of the Vale. 

Daella's feet began to ache, and her patience began to wear thin as different lords and their sons twisted and twirled her, all while interrogating her. She felt like an insect inspected under a magnifying glass. 

Suddenly, a voice broke through the room. "A toast!" He shouted, "To the jewel of House Arryn, whose beauty shines brighter than the stars themselves." Aemond raised his chalice toward Daella, a smirk appearing as he heard the chants of agreement, turning to face Jacearys in a silent challenge. 

As Daella studied their subtle interactions, she realized the power she held. 

Daella Targaryen has bewitched the heir and the spare, and what they don't know is that she is prepared to devour them both; after all, she is her father's daughter and they are birds of prey.

[sapphire-writes]

Paring: Aemond Targaryen x Baratheon OC

Summary: Rhaenyra and her children arrive from Dragonstone. Jacaerys and Elyse are reunited.

Warnings: none – eventually smut

previous chapter ----- next chapter

Chapter 5: Oathbreaker

It had been years since Princess Rheanyra had stepped foot on King’s Landing. The greens and blacks had not seen each other since their children were very young, on that fateful day at Driftmark. 

Now and then Elyse would stare out across Blackwater Bay, seeing the small dot of Dragonstone in the distance, and think of Jacearys Velaryon. 

What life must be for him, these several years later. She didn’t like to allow herself to daydream about him. 

Elyse, herself a grown woman, felt a nervousness grow in her belly as the days drew closer to the Velaryon arrival. Now Jace would be a man, ready to fulfill his duty as Rheanyra’s heir.

She wondered if he remembered the promise he had made to her when they were children. Would this be the day she rode on dragonback at last, hands laced around Jace’s waist, on her way for him to ask her father for her hand? Terrifying, surely, but less so knowing Jace would be holding her. Elyse sighed, lost in her thoughts. 

She did not want to get her hopes up, for it had been years. Perhaps he had forgotten his promise. Elyse smoothed her gown and exited her chambers. She passed a handmaiden on her walk down the corridor. 

“Have you seen Princess Helaena?” she asked and the handmaiden nodded. “She is in godswood my lady,” she answered. 

“Many thanks,” Elyse said hurrying off to find her friend. She found Helaena in the Godswood underneath the ancient Weirwood tree, watching the leaves fall around her. 

“Helaena,” Elyse called, and Helaena raised an arm to wave at her. 

Elyse looked around as she approached her friend. “Where are the twins?” she asked, settling on the ground next to her companion. 

“With the wet nurse,” Helaena said softly. Helaena loved her children dearly, it was rare to see them apart though they were still toddling. 

“Your sister arrives soon, perhaps she has already,” Elyse said, anticipation evident in her voice. Helaena hummed softly. 

“Perhaps she has,” she answered. “I have a strong feeling this will be a very interesting visit,” Elyse stated, and Helaena nodded. 

“I have to agree, friend,” she said, closing her eyes as the branches moved with the wind causing the sunlight to catch her eyes. Elyse looked up, basking in the warmth of the mid-morning sun. 

She wasn’t sure how she would feel seeing Jacaerys again. She wasn’t sure if she was supposed to feel a certain way. It had been so long, and they were no longer children. 

“I can hear your thoughts,” Helaena murmured, eyes still closed. Elyse looked at her friend, smiling slightly. “Can you?” she asked, amused. Helaena hummed in response. 

“You and I are cut from the same cloth,” Helaena said, violet eyes reopening to the world. 

“Come,” she said standing. “Let us go see if my nephews are here,” she said, linking arms with Elyse. 

The two women left the Godswood, off to find the Verlayons. 

__________________________

The tension in the throne room was palpable. Elyse released Helaena’s arm as she walked to the side to join the other noble ladies and Helaena went to join the rest of the royal family. She saw Jacaerys before he saw her. 

He stood taller than her now, when they had parted ways on Driftmark Elyse had been almost a head taller. His shoulders were broad, and dark hair cascaded down his next. 

He looked like a knight. Like a true prince right out of the songs Helaena and her read in childhood. But his smile was still Jace, still the boy she played with. 

Jace caught her eye then as he smiled, drinking in her form. Her eyes were large, covered with thick brows and lashes. Blue and sparkling like the waters of the sapphire isle. Jace couldn’t stop smiling, almost forgetting himself as his grandfather entered the throne room. He tore his eyes from Elyse then.

She had barely had a chance to take in Jace’s form when the king had entered the throne room. 

King Viserys made his way towards the Iron Throne, helped by his brother Daemon. Elyse could not contain her grin, ignoring the buzz of the different voices speaking all around her. There was only Jacaerys. 

Until Princess Rhaenys announced the betrothals of her granddaughters. 

Elyse’s eyes flickered then to Baela Targaryen. She was strikingly beautiful, with Valyrian coloring and smooth, dark skin. She stood tall and proud next to her grandmother. 

Baela smiled at Jace, who gave her a small smile back. Elyse could feel her heart breaking,  a sharpness splintering through her chest. Her lips parted in shock. Jace pleaded with his eyes, an apology for such an ambush. 

“Her children are bastards!” Vaemond Velaryon suddenly yelled, echoing in the throne room. Elyse’s mouth completely opened, and attention turned back to the center of the throne room. “And she,” Vaemond continued, “Is a whore.” The throne room erupted in gasps. 

“I will have your tongue for that,” King Viserys said, with venom in his voice. 

No sooner had he spoken, the top half of Vaemond Velaryon’s head was on the ground, body falling behind him. Elyse shrieked, as did several members of the court. A lady beside her collapsed to the ground. 

“He can keep his tongue,” Daemon Targaryen said, cleaning his sword. Chaos erupted in the throne room and Elyse lost sight of Jace. 

Glancing at where the green royal family stood she saw Helaena. The princess had her face turned and was covering her ears, shaking her head back and forth. 

“Helaena!” Elyse called and rushed towards her friend, up several steps. Helena stood, shaking her head, not removing her hands. 

“Heleana it's alright,” Elyse cooed, rubbing her friend's arms. She looked down towards the corpse of Vaemond. “Let us leave,” Elyse said, and Helaena nodded. 

Arms around Helaena, Elyse escorted the Princess from the throne room. “Elyse!” She heard a voice call behind her, but she kept walking, turning briefly to look. 

Jacaerys made his way towards her. “Not now,” Elyse called, motioning to the distraught princess. Jace nodded, a pained look on his face. Elyse turned away, leading Helaena toward her chambers. 

__________________________

Helaena wanted to rest until the evening. Elyse had stayed with her for a while, tucked Helaena into bed as she murmured to herself, eyes far away. She stroked Helaena’s hair, placing a kiss on her forehead before departing to her chambers. 

As she rounded the corner of the hall that led toward her room, she noticed a piece of parchment sticking out from underneath her door. Bending down, Elyse grabbed it and unraveled it. 

Meet me where the monsters chase maidens, it read, causing Elyse to smile. 

She abandoned her chambers, heading instead to the sunken courtyard. Down serpentine staircases, Elyse flew, long hair trailing behind her a curtain of a midnight sky. She passed several gold cloaks on her way to the courtyard.

Elyse was alone when she entered, the smell of moss and wet stones filling her nose. She smiled, taking in the playing grounds of her childhood. A small, square pool lay in the center of the courtyard, and Elyse walked over to it admiring the small fish that swam. She had once sat in this very spot with Lucerys Velaryon, as he had practiced his Valyrian counting. 

“Mēre, lanta, hāre…” Lucerys said trailing off as he pointed at the small fish. Elyse waited a moment as the prince paused. “I don’t know it,” he said sadly, head hanging low. Elyse pursed her lips. “You’re already getting better,” she consoled him. “Think hard, Luke. Mēre, lanta, hāre,” Elyse spoke softly and the prince furrowed his brow. “Izula!” he said, breaking into a grin. Elyse squealed with glee. “Yes! Keep going!” she had encouraged him. 

“Elyse,” a voice called softly. Elyse turned, the memory fading. Jacaerys smiled.

 “Jace,” she breathed, with a sigh of relief. She raced towards him, hugging him tightly. She could tell he had been on dragonback recently. He smelled of smoke, leather, and the sea. 

Elyse held him tightly, closing her eyes for a moment allowing herself the fantasy of having him.  

She pulled away. “I have missed you,” she said, eyes tearing up. It felt as though a piece of her childhood had returned and she suddenly felt much younger. “I have missed you as well,” Jace said earnestly, his smile wide. 

“There is so much I wish to tell you,” Elyse said, the words bubbling from her lips. Jace’s smile faltered. Elyse noticed and paused.

“I had hoped to be the one to tell you,” Jace began, referring to the news of his betrothal. “I was held up in the training yard. I wished you heard it from me first,” he said, eyes sad. 

But something inside Elyse had known, even though she felt her heart sink. Something deep in her heart knew her dreams of marrying Jace were too good to be true. Elyse found herself forcing a smile.

 “Baela is quite beautiful,” she told him, and she was being truthful. From the scattered few moments they had interacted, Baela seemed fierce and kind as well. A fitting match for a prince. 

“She is not you,” Jace said, eyes searching her face. Elyse’s smile turned sad. “Ours is a love of children,” Elyse stated and Jace shook his head. “Stop it,” he whispered.

“It makes sense, Baela is a worthy match-” Elyse began but Jace cut her off.

“A lady of house Baratheon is more than worthy-” he interjected. 

“Jace,” Elyse said, shaking her head. 

Jace couldn’t help himself. He pulled her in and pressed his lips to hers. Elyse’s heart stopped for a moment. But it was different this time. 

Her body felt calm, her heart steadying. Fire did not course through her veins. She pulled away from him. Jace’s face was sad, lips reddened from their kiss. 

Elyse backed away, releasing herself from his grasp and smoothing her gown. “Perhaps our time has come and gone,” she said and Jace found himself nodding. 

“But it is awfully good to see you,” Elyse said, taking his hands in hers. “I have missed you, truly,” Elyse told him, smiling with happiness yet again. Jace forced a smile. “As I have missed you,” Jace stated. 

“Nephew,” a voice drolled, causing Jace and Elyse to startle. Aemond Targaryen stood under the stone archway, eye locked on Jacaery’s and Elyse’s interlocked hands. His eye flickered to Elyse’s blushing face, then back to his nephew. 

“Uncle,” Jacaerys said, quickly dropping Elyse’s hands and turning towards his elder. Elyse’s hands felt cold. Aemond’s good eye seemed to narrow.

“I’ve been charged with informing you of tonight's festivities,” Aemond told his nephew. Jacaerys stood, waiting. “The King is requesting that both families dine together tonight in the Queen’s ballroom,” he finished, unblinking. 

“I shall be present shortly,” Jacaerys told him, but Aemond stayed put.

“My sister will be missing your presence, Lady Elyse,” Aemond said, eyeing the Baratheon. Elyse wondered how long he had been standing there. If he had witnessed the kiss.

“I was just taking my leave, My Prince,” Elyse said, curtseying slightly to Jacaerys, beginning to exit the courtyard. Aemond hummed at her response, a smile twitching on his lips. 

“Hear how sweetly she calls to me, nephew?” he taunted, as Elyse brushed by him causing her to stop in her tracks. Eyes widening, she looked back at Jace who stood, hands balled into fists. 

Aemond turned to her then, bringing his hand to her chin. He let his fingers caress the smooth skin of her jaw, leaving a trail of fire behind. His thumb stopped on her bottom lip, softly tugging it. 

“Run along, sweet Elyse,” he purred, and Elyse felt her breath hitch. The back of her neck grew hot, and a wave of desire rolled down her spine. Aemond smiled then, and Elyse caught her breath.

She brought her hand up, striking Aemond’s away. “Enough,” she hissed, looking back at Jace, feeling mortified. 

But she heeded Aemond’s advice, not meeting Jace’s eyes, leaving the courtyard. She heard a scuffle of shoes, and with a glance behind her, watched Aemond leave in the opposite direction. Jacaerys did not follow him. 

Switching her footing, she hurried after Aemond. His strides were long and it took her several moments to catch up. 

“Is this a new pastime of yours, causing me torment?” Elyse called towards the Targaryen prince. Aemond stopped walking and turned to face her, an amused smirk on his handsome face. 

“Is that what I’m doing?” he asked, “tormenting you?”

“It appears so,” Elyse accused, anger beginning to course through her veins. 

“You know, I could have your hand taken for that,” he said casually, ignoring her remark. Elyse swallowed. “Hands have been taken for much less,” he continued. Elyse’s anger brushed off the threat. 

“Maim me then,” she challenged, unwavering. Aemond watched her carefully, pausing a moment before taking his bottom lip between his teeth. “It would be such a shame to lose a hand. They are very versatile,” he told her and she blushed scarlet. She wasn’t completely sure what he was on about, but something about his tone made the sentence sound filthy. 

“Don’t be crude,” she snapped, and he chuckled slightly. 

“I only meant in prayer, my lady,” he told her, cocking his head. “What were you thinking?”

Elyse was fuming. “What is it you want?” she asked.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You know exactly what I mean.” 

They stayed like that for a moment, neither backing down. 

“A trip to the sept might be needed, after all, My Prince. Prayer is indeed so very healing,” she told him, forcing a tight smile on her face. Aemond nodded at her sudden retreat. 

Elyse turned on her heel. Suddenly, a wave of emotion wracked through her. It was all too much for Elyse to bear. She didn’t know if it was Jacaerys, Aemond's teasing, or the events from earlier to cause her cheeks to flush and her breath to quicken. 

And even though Elyse knew in her bones that Jacerys Verlaryon was not hers to love, she found her way to the royal sept while the Targaryens gathered for supper and cried. 

Sobs wracked through her body, and she was grateful for the privacy.

Read on AO3

[rp-partnerfinder]

Looking for some House of the dragon/ ASOIAF role play! 🐉 18+ and be involved in the plot. Due to the nature of the fandom, incest will be present. Smut would be fine as long as it’s not the main focus, I’m here for the story!

A few of the ships I’m looking for are:

- Lucerys X Jacearys

- Rhaenyra X Aegon (I’d play as Aegon)

- Aegon III X Daenera Velaryon (I’d play as Aegon)

- Daemon Blackfyre X Daenerys Targaryen (I’d play as Daemon)

Dark themes would be welcome and I’m also down to explore a modern setting. Reach out if you’re interested! Looking forward to hear your suggestions as well!!!

Please be aware that the "18+" in this ad is not enoguh context to adhere to the rules of this blog. In the future please include "looking for someone who is 18+" or some variation. Thank you!

[prpfz]

Looking for some House of the dragon/ ASOIAF role play! 🐉 18+ and be involved in the plot. Due to the nature of the fandom, incest will be present. Smut would be fine as long as it’s not the main focus, I’m here for the story!

A few of the ships I’m looking for are:

- Lucerys X Jacearys

- Rhaenyra X Aegon (I’d play as Aegon)

- Aegon III X Daenera Velaryon (I’d play as Aegon)

- Daemon Blackfyre X Daenerys Targaryen (I’d play as Daemon)

Dark themes would be welcome and I’m also down to explore a modern setting. Reach out if you’re interested! Looking forward to hear your suggestions as well!!!

like or dm

[serenity-ren-bliss]

Current request page:

I will write: Fluff (romantic or platonic), hurt/comfort, established relationships, fem GN or masc reader (please specify, I default to fem), Little!Reader, Polyamory

I will not write: hurt/no comfort, smut, R being in a toxic relationship with the chosen character , Dom!Reader

Characters I will write for:

The Lost Boys: All of the lost boys (individually or Poly), Laddie (Platonic only), Star

Descendants: Harry Hook, Dizzy (Platonic only), Celia (Platonic only)

Marvel: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Peter Parker, Tony Stark

Riordanverse: Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase, Thalia Grace (Platonic Only), Lester Popadopolus (Platonic Only), Will Solace, Nico Di Angelo, Leo Valdez, Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano, Artemis+Hunters (Platonic Only)

Genshin Impact: Traveler or Abyss Sibling (please specify Aether or Lumine), Venti, Klee (Platonic only), Diona (Platonic Only), Scaramouche/Wanderer, Kazuha, Albedo, Qiqi (Platonic only), Keaya, Diluc

The Promised Neverland: Emma, Ray, Norman, Isabella

House Of The Dragon: Aemond Targaryen, Aegon Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen, Rheanyra Targaryen, Helaena Targaryen, Jacearys Velaryon, Alicent Hightower

Special note for House of the dragon: this is the ONLY fandom I will write incest (targcest) for

[intheheartoftheking]

Higher. Faster. Further (Birds of Prey Series)

PT. 3 (pt.2) (pt.1)

Jacaerys Velaryon x Aunt!Targaryen oc x Aemond Targaryen

18+ MDNI strangers to lovers, all of the smut, targcest (reader is aunt), f!oral, handjobs and m!oral, threesomeish, semi angst(?), aemond being aemond, jace being a wild child (finally)

summary: After Aegon seized the throne, Jacaerys and Aemond were dispatched to ensure the loyalty of House Arryn and the Vale. However, their mission took an unexpected turn when they encountered Lady Jane Arryn's ward, leading to a tangled web of lies, deceit, and power struggles.

word count: 1,035 

a/n: continuation of HFF (Birds of Prey) this is the smut I forewarned. This was my first time writing a big smutty scene so I hope you enjoy my brainrot and please leave comments and suggestions to add in future chapters. this is a short ishstory (I think.) let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! ill also be adding a playlist soon but the theme song for this whole series is basically Middle of the Night by Elley Duhe ! ALSO daddy daemon is coming soon.....xoxo 

"I'm glad you could join us," Daella said with a hint of mischief in her eyes as she stared down Aemond.

Aemond chuckled. "of course, I couldn't let my nephew have all the fun and the vale." he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Daella noticed the tension between the two: "Sit, make yourselves comfortable." She gestured to her couches near the hearth. "The ladies brought tea, but I figured we might need something much stronger to get through the night together," Daella said as she pushed the heavy chest in front of her bed and pulled back the carpet, dislodging a loose stone and pulling out a wooden box. "Strongwine." She presented, handing the bottle to Aemond to open. Daella quickly put everything back before settling down with the two princes. "I apologize for the lack of chalices." She said while pouring the wine into tea cups. Her robe had slid open a bit, allowing Aemond a peak at her ample breast. "It's not a problem," Jacearys reassured as Aemond rolled his eye.

They all took their respective cups as Daella tried to cut through the tension, avoiding any mention of the alliance. She asked more superficial questions, trying to get to know one another, such as when she danced with Jacearys alone. As they continued to drink through the night, the strongwine began to chip away at both their facades.

In a fit of laughter, Daella accidentally spilled her wine on herself and Jaceary's nightshirt, causing it to stick to his body and showcasing all of the chiseled curves he hid underneath. "I'm so sorry." She gasped as she tried to reach for a towel in her drunken stupor. She stumbled forward, landing in Aemonds lap. She froze for a moment, studying his face, the flames flickering on his face, making him look so inviting. Daella could feel his breathing stall as his eye flickered down to her lips and back up to her eyes. She turned to look over to Jacearys, beaconing to sit beside them.

Jacearys would have declined or even left the room, but he wasn't sure if it was the emotions of the night mixed with the strongwine or if it was just the way her amber eyes had a hold on him, but he rose from his seat and took his place beside her. "I want you both," she admitted in a whisper, looking between the two princes. The two males looked at one another in silent agreement. "Then take us," Jacearys whispered in her ear, causing Daella to lose all sense of self as she crashed her lips into Jacearys; it was a heated kiss full of urgency and hidden dark desires. Daella moaned in his mouth as Aemond began to kiss the exposed skin on her neck. Aemond explored her body with his hands tugging on her robe, exposing her pert nipples. He gently took one in his hand, eliciting another moan from her. "Such pretty moans," Jacearys whispered against her lips, and he began to lift her nightdress, exposing her slick cunt as he stared at her mischievously. He grabbed her face as he ran his fingers up and down her slit, and a gasp escaped her as he slid a finger in. No man had ever dared to touch her in this way, and chills covered her body as the two worked on the different parts of her. Daella could feel Aemond growing under her, and his hips thrust forward a bit, hoping to relieve some of the pressure that was building in his trousers. Jacearys continued to curl his fingers inside of her as he entered a second finger in search of that soft spot that made her head go blank, his trousers now suddenly feeling too tight. Della wrapped her fingers in Aemonds hair, tugging slightly as a gasp tore through her lips when Jacearys found that spot hidden inside her. Aemond groaned at her slight tugs; desperate to switch off with Jacearys, he tore her away from him. Daella hissed as Jacerys fingers pulled away from her so abruptly. Aemond pushed her back and lifted her knees, exposing herself to him as he stared at her glistening heat with desire. "I wish to touch you." She whispered, "In time." Aemond mumbled against her inner thigh as he peppered kisses along until he plunged himself into her core, lapping away like a man who had never drunk before. Her back arched in response, and Jacearys began to hold her down as he worked on her breast. Daella could feel a heat growing within her as she bit her lip, desperate to keep quiet, but with every stroke and kiss, her climax came closer. "Fuck me," She cried. The orgasm ran from the roots of her hair down to the very edge of her toes. Her thighs were shaking, her arms shaking, her entire body was shaking.

Aemond smirked in satisfaction, her slick covering his face. "Sweeter than the finest wines." he chuckled, standing to clean himself up. Daella rested her head against Jacerys chest as she tried to steady her heartbeat. His strong arms pulled her closer to him while he placed a kiss on her head.

"Take off your clothes," she said confidently, standing up. "Both of you." the two males quickly got to work removing the little clothes left while Daella removed her now-soiled night dress. The three stood bare before each other as Daella pushed them to her bed. She spit in her palms as she wrapped her hands along their throbbing cocks. Once again, the room was filled with moans and groans as Daella worked on the two princes, invoking orgasm after orgasm from the two males.

Eventually, their bodies were spent as they lay in her bed, a tangled mess of legs and limbs, with Jacearys nuzzled in her neck and Aemond finding solace amongst her breast. "We should go." Jacearys tried to reason as his drunkenness began to wear off.

"Stay," Daella commanded, gripping his arm and pulling Aemond closer. "If someone finds us here, they will question your virtue." Aemond agreed with Jacearys.

Daella sighed, her selfishness and desire winning over her logic "fuck virtue."

Taglist: @damewritesalot

[intheheartoftheking]

Higher. Faster. Further (Bird of Prey Series)

Jacaerys Velaryon x Aunt!Targaryen oc x Aemond Targaryen

Pt2. (pt.1)(pt.3)

strangers to lovers, targcest (reader is aunt), semi angst(?), aemond being aemond, diplomat!jace,

summary: After Aegon seized the throne, Jacaerys and Aemond were dispatched to ensure the loyalty of House Arryn and the Vale. However, their mission took an unexpected turn when they encountered Lady Jane Arryn's ward, leading to a tangled web of lies, deceit, and power struggles.

word count: 965

a/n: part two of HFF (Birds of Prey) this was originally supposed to be the smut I forewarned but Tumblr isn't letting me post the full thing so its been split. I hope you enjoy my brainrot and please leave comments and suggestions to add in future chapters. this is a short ishstory (I think.) let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! ill also be adding a playlist soon but the theme song for this whole series is basically Middle of the Night by Elley Duhe ! xoxo 

Daella sheepishly asked her aunt, gesturing down to her feet. Her aunt nodded. "Forgive us, my princes. My niece is not accustomed to dancing."

Daella looked up through her lashes at the princes as she curtsied.

"That is not necessary for me, Lady Daella," Prince Jacearys said as he kissed her hand gently on the back.

Prince Aemond said, "Perhaps I could escort the lady back to her chambers. The hour is late, and it doesn't seem safe for a beautiful woman to walk alone."

Daella chuckled. "That hardly seems appropriate, Prince Aemond; you could be seen as a potential suitor, which could cause whispers." Aemond furrowed his brows. "I see," he grumbled. He had hoped to get her alone and convince her to swear allegiance to Aegon. Aemond believed that once she chose her side, her lady aunt would quickly agree, and this business could be over with so that he might return to the Red Keep.

"Perhaps if Prince Jacearys would be so kind as to walk with us, that would be seen as more appropriate," Daella suggested, snapping Aemond out of his thoughts. Both men glanced at each other, uncomfortable with the proposal, but this seemed to be their only chance to try to speak to Lady Daella alone. Aemond hummed in approval but stared at Jacearys with annoyance as he extended his arm to her, which Daella gladly accepted. Both men bid their goodnights to Lady Jane Arryn and made their way out of the great hall with Daella sandwiched between them.

The walk to her chambers was quiet, but as they approached, Daella spoke up, "I want you both to come inside." Aemond stopped abruptly, causing Daella to be tugged back along with Jacearys. "What?" They both chimed in unison, the confusion laced in their voices. "When my ladies leave my chambers, I wish you both to enter. I believe there is much to converse about away from prying eyes." Daella spoke in hushed whispers. The two men stared at one another, concerned. First, she talked of propriety, and now she's inviting the two most influential men in the realm to her chambers. "And what of the whispers?" Aemond repeated her words from earlier. "While I hate to agree with my cousin, he's right; what of the whispers?" Jacearys echoed in agreement, but something else ate at him. Something else ate at both of them. This invitation felt like a trap.

Daella rolled her eyes. "To seven hells with the whispers," she snapped, breaking her facade of a perfect lady. "You both know the season we've entered, and that's why you are here. I wish to know more of you before my lady aunt does."

She pulled her arms away from them. "The invitation remains, and I shall wait for you if you choose to accept it."

In his chambers, Aemond bit at his nails nervously. This alarmed him. No one had made Aemond nervous since he was a child. Was her proposal really to speak of potential alliances? And why would she want to share his and his bastard nephew's company?

He knew Jacearys was desirable due to his position should Rhaenyra capture the iron throne, but their children would always face doubt about his father's parentage. As for himself, he was known as Aemond one eye, and marriage was a hard enough prospect not simply because of the loss of his eye but also because of his brothers' additional teasing. These whispers made Aemond weary of anyone remotely willing to show affection or interest for fear that all they wanted from him was his proximity to Aegon or his title.

A door opening and closing across the hall pulls him from his thoughts as he hears footsteps descending the hall in the direction of Daella's quarters. "Jacearys," he growled. If his strong nephew has gained the courage to seek out Lady Daella alone, Aemond knew he also had to follow. After all, he knew he couldn't lose the Vale all because he was too afraid of rejection.

Meanwhile, Jacearys was mentally cursing himself for indulging in Daella's invitation. Did she mean to speak, or was this an invitation for something more? Daemon once told him of ladies who used to seek him out for pleasure or in hopes of capturing his crown. He also heavily warned Jacearys against fathering any bastards since his claim was already shaky due to the vicious rumors fueled by the greens. He knew better, how he knew better, but she was just so beautiful, and unlike any of the ladies he had ever met, she had him enraptured. As he approached the door, he saw the guards had been sent away. Jacearys raised his hand to knock the door cracked open, and a hand emerged, wrapping around his wrist and tugging him inside abruptly.

"Forgive me, my Prince. I'm just trying to be as careful as one can be not to be seen," Daella stated, turning away. "Tea?" She offered, gesturing to the set on a small table. There were cakes and small bites on display, and it almost seemed as if she was sure at least one of them would come.

He shook his head as he realized she was in her nightclothes; however, her hair remained pulled in a tight braid. The fire illuminated her face, highlighting the flecks of gold in her ember eyes. If there was something that was for sure, she was one of the most stunning women he had ever met. It was as if the gods themselves had come down to craft her. Her heavy door opened slightly, causing both of them to turn and hold their breaths. Sounds of relief were emitting from them once they saw a head of a silver hair sliver inside.

Taglist: @damewritesalot