#Velaryon y/n

[keigosprince]

Tywin Lannister/Velaryon!Reader Preview

“My lady, the ship is here”

Y/N said nothing, only sighed. A fortnight ago, the Battle of Blackwater took place. So much had come from this petty war for that stupid iron chair. That chair had cost her and her younger brother their father…and Y/N her freedom. Being the eldest child was a wonderful position to hold…if you were a man. Y/N had been the first born. The first born, followed by many dead babes until her brother was born. She loved him with all her heart but at this moment, she wished she had been an only child a few years more. Then maybe she wouldn't have been sold off to Tywin Lannister. Sold is a strong word, more like captured and her brother and mother didn’t have the means to fight off Lannisters. They had won the war of five kings and now they were going to reap the benefits of it, her included.

“I’ll be right out Mia” she sighed again as she rose from her pillows and smoothed out the wrinkles in her skirts. She knew what her duty was to be when she was informed of her next destination. She had been sent away from Driftmark for protection by her father before he went off to battle, leaving her mother and brother back at their keep by the sea. She guessed it was a well calculated move on her father’s part…Tywin Lannister just happened to calculate the same plan and came up with a counter just in case. Her ship had been on its way to Essos until a random storm happened and when it ended she found herself in front of the Lannister navy on its way to Dragonstone, where she was currently being held. This keep didn’t have anyone occupying it since it was on an island and isolated from the rest of the realm of Westeros. The perfect place to keep a “defenseless” hostage until you are ready for them to come to your main location.

Rubbing her forehead to keep a migraine from coming on, Meleys picked up her skirts and started to make her way into the room she was being held in. "If anything, I hope I at least survive my time in the capital until I can make it to Casterly Rock”. That was one thing she didn’t mind about this situation. She grew up at Driftmark, surrounded by the sea and all things nautical and sea related. She learned how to sail when she was only seven and went on her first long voyage with her cousins at age three and ten. She knew how to wield a sword, drink a man 3 times her size under the table, and handle a ship on her own. She would at least have Lannisport to look over like she did Spice Town back at Driftmark.

Looking in the mirror to make sure her silver locs were properly tied up in their half updo bun, she let out one final sigh and made her way out to the docks.

—--------------------------

Tywin Lannister was not a man to be kept waiting. He understood that sailing took time, however the longer this hostage was out of his sight he would stay on edge. But then again Tywin Lannister was always on edge. Alert at all times, never letting a stag, wolf, or dragon keep him from slippingHe sat at his desk, filling out the last of the letters needed from the small council concerning the casualties and collateral of this latest war. A war that gained them everything and more. His family just had to keep it and the legacy would be secure. Tywin sighed at the thought of his family. His three current children and grandchildren couldn’t be trusted to carry on the family name.Tommen and Myrcella MAYBE but not the rest. 

‘Here’s to hoping this new bride of mine can fulfill her duty properly' he thought,

---------------------------

(Its a WIP, I may change things later. I just wanted to go ahead and give like a small preview and get the idea out. If you dont wanna insert your own name then I gave her the name Meleys Velaryon because ya kno...Red Queen and all. And just to remind everyone...this is a HOTD Velaryon so SHE BLACK)

[brokenmenswhore]

release | jacaerys velaryon

pairing: jacaerys velaryon x fem!reader

summary: jace is on the brink of snapping and lashing out toward his mother and her council for their lack of action against the greens, so you give him another outlet for his frustration

warnings: smut (MDNI 18+), rough sex, jace is a lil rough & feral in this one

────── ☾ ──────

“And what of those who sent him?” Jacaerys snapped, questioning his mother as they buried yet another body.

He was angry. He couldn’t help but lose people. Everyone around him kept fleeing or dying, and he tried desperately to hold his tongue, but his patience was slipping. War was inevitable, and he was frustrated at his mother’s lack of action toward the opposing force. He wanted revenge, retaliation, and most of all, he wanted to be the one to give it.

As the eldest son, however, he tried not to cause a scene, knowing he played an important role in this war, and hoping that his silence and unwavering support of his mother’s decisions would breed the proper trust that was needed to allow him more involvement and access in the war.

He was evidently tense at council meetings. His tongue was becoming sharper with each sentence related to the war. He couldn’t help it. He pushed through the doors to your chambers, angry and frustrated from the events of the day.

He stopped short when he saw you turn in your chair to face him. Taking a deep breath, the tension in his body dropped. “I need a hug.”

You smiled, standing and approaching him, wrapping your arms around his waist. You remained a step lower than him in the entrance. He rested his chin on the top of your head.

“I just don’t understand why she won’t do anything,” he began, “I know she doesn’t want this war. I don’t want this war, but it’s happening. We have all lost so much, and it will not stop. Why won’t she do something?”

“Perhaps she believes it can still be avoided,” you responded.

“How much blood from my family must be split before she realizes it can’t?”

Your heart ached for him. You wanted to hold him in the hug forever, curing all his pain and never letting him out of the room.

“I’m sorry, Jacaerys.”

“It is not a fault of yours,” he replied, “it is just exhausting. I wish for a break from all of this, even if just momentary. I feel as if any moment, I may break, and I do not wish to take these frustrations out on my mother or her council. It would only cause the situation to worsen.”

You looked up at him, “then take it out on me.”

“What?”

“Take your frustrations out on me, Jace.”

“You do not deserve such treatment.”

You sighed, “but I am asking for it. Allow yourself to have an outlet. Why else am I here?”

Jacaerys was bewildered, “you are not here for me to take my anger out on. I would not do such a thing.”

“I wish for you to relax. I would not speak the offer if I did not mean it. Please, Jace.”

Jace leaned down to kiss you, initiating a sweet, intimate kiss before his frustrations took over and he deepened the kiss, gripping your thighs, causing you to jump and wrap your legs around his waist. He continued to kiss you as you clung to his shoulders, his steps towards the bed shaking you and causing you to nearly fall.

The Velaryon prince was usually quite nice to you, making sure to take things slow and constantly checking in on your comfort and pleasure. He would typically slowly drop your back onto the mattress, but tonight, he quite literally pushed you down, keeping your legs wrapped around his waist as he kissed you into the mattress.

You moaned at the eagerness of it all, Jace’s hands running up and down your side, gripping your waist and pushing your hips down, until your legs were no longer wrapped around his body. Never breaking the kiss, he lifted up your nightdress, his fingers finding their way under your small clothes, not giving you time to ease into it as he began roughly rubbing circles on your clit.

You squealed into the kiss. Jace moved to begin sucking bruises into your neck, his hair falling in front of his face, as he continued to rub you. You couldn’t help but moan, trying your hardest to remain as quiet as possible, since his little brother’s chambers were just a wall away.

“He’s not here,” Jace groaned.

You could barely speak. “What?”

“He’s not in his chambers. He’s out with Arrax. Stop holding back,” Jace demanded, “wanna hear what I’m doing to you.”

This controlling nature was a change, but you didn’t mind it at all. You stopped trying to quiet yourself, a moan of his name leaving your lips as he pushed a finger into you.

“That’s it,” he cooed, “you sound so pretty.”

“T-thank you,” you responded.

Jacaerys didn’t stop curling his finger inside of you, but giggled, “did you just thank me?”

“Mhm,” you moaned.

“You’re too cute,” he said, breaking his frustrated and controlling demeanor for a second, the compliment making your heart swell as he continued to fuck you with his fingers.

He felt you start to squeeze, and he immediately pulled his hand away from you. You sighed in disappointment.

He lifted you from under your arms, shifting you so you were sitting up, as he began to undo his breeches.

“I just wish I could go to King’s Landing,” he started, pushing his small clothes down and allowing his cock to be free, “I’d kill every last one of them.”

He gripped your hair, pushing your face down until it was level with his cock. “Open.”

You did as he told you, opening your mouth as he pushed his cock into your mouth, immediately hitting the back of your throat. He was big, too big to fit completely in your mouth, but you were getting better and better at breathing through your nose to avoid gagging around his cock.

“Not today,” he sighed, “stop holding back or I’ll fuck it out of your throat.”

You listened to him, forgetting everything you know about avoiding gagging, and allowing him to direct your head up and down, his cock hitting the back of your throat with every single thrust. You gagged and choked around him, but he didn’t let up.

“They think they’re so big and bad,” he said, breathy from the pleasure of your mouth around him, “if only they were around me. I could take all of them. I could end their whole fucking line.”

He began to thrust his hips at a vicious pace. You had no choice but to take it, trying your best to continue sucking and swirling your tongue around the head of his cock as he fucked your mouth mercilessly.

“I’d end their whole. fucking. line,” he said again, speaking through each thrust and throwing his head back in pleasure.

“Fuck, get up, I’m not done with you yet,” he commanded, pulling you off of him to stop himself from coming before he wanted to.

You didn’t dare adjust your position without his say so. You sat there waiting for him to put you where he wanted you. He flipped your body over, pressing your face into the pillow as he pulled your hips up to meet his. He took both of your wrists in one hand, locking them behind your back as his other hand guided his cock into your entrance and then moved to your waist as he started rocking into you, pushing you further and further into the mattress.

Your body folded and became weak, as much of you falling into the bed as was possible, the only thing keeping your hips upward was the rough grip Jacaerys had on them. You whined and moaned, your entire body rocking forward with each snap of his hips.

“Seven hells,” he breathed out, his pace never relenting, “are you still okay?”

“Mhm,” you moaned out, unable to form a coherent sentence.

“Shit, I hate not being able to hear you,” he said, pulling out of you and flipping your body so you were flat on the mattress, facing him. “That’s better,” he smiled, immediately fucking back into you with no warning.

You cried out, grabbing his face and kissing him through the intensity. He grunted into the kiss, having never fucked you, or anyone for that matter, this hard before. All of his pent up rage and frustration was being taken out on your cunt.

Your back arched off the mattress, Jace taking the opportunity to wrap an arm around your waist, holding you even closer to him.

He spoke with every thrust, “I. Want. Revenge.”

“I k-know,” you moaned out.

“I. Want. Fucking. Revenge.”

It was overwhelming, and the intensity with which he was fucking you started to make your head cloudy. “J- Jace, it’s too m-“

Jacaerys cut you off by kissing you, doing everything he can to stop your words. “You can take it, baby.”

“I c-“ the pressure was so intense. You could feel your walls start to squeeze around his cock, and his pace was relentless.

“You can,” he said, looking directly into your eyes, “and you will.”

You nodded and let him continue splitting you open on his cock, dropping your waist down to the mattress again as he fucked into you, hands rough on your waist as they pushed you down.

Your eyes filled with tears. Jacaerys had never seen you like this, crying from the intensity, sweat sticking your hair to your forehead as you writhed under him. He didn’t know he was capable of making you feel like this, and he didn’t know you would look so fucking pretty as a result.

“Fuck, baby,” he growled, “I’m close.”

You couldn’t even respond, you just continued to whine and moan under him, watching his face contort as he released inside of you. The final few thrusts of his hips were cruel, his large length hitting that spongy spot inside of you that made you see stars. Through his high, he could feel you close, and he forced himself to continue pushing in and out of you until you met your climax.

Your legs shook as a wave of pleasure washed over you, your entire body eventually melting into the bed with weakness. Jace waited a moment before pulling out of you, kissing you as he did so.

You tried hard to catch your breath, but it took you longer than you anticipated. Jace, ever so attentive, looked down at you and asked, “you okay?”

You couldn’t help but smile. “I should start making you mad.”

[fioiswriting]

Muña | one shot

Summary : Marrying your bastard nephew to mend fences between your families wasn't exactly what you had planned. But when you realise that Jace has grown into a strong and handsome man, you might be ready to rethink your plans.

Rating : Explicit, 18+ MDNI

Pairing : Jacaerys Velaryon x Aunt!Reader (Reader is Alicent and Visery’s daughter. She’s one year younger than Aegon)

TW : p in v sex, mommy kink, sub!Jace (kinda), Dom!Reader (but they both switch tbh), inappropriate use of the word muña, oral (f receiving), afab reader, incest, unprotected sex, not proofread

Words count : 8064

AN : hi everyone!! I’ve been very busy lately so I haven't had time to update BUT I’ve been working a bit on various fics. Sorry to all my Aemond girlies but today it’s time for some Jace x reader. It’s a fic I’ve written for my gf who’s turning into a Jace girlie �� It's full of indecency and inappropriate things.

Also English is not my first language, so sorry for the grammar mistakes !! 

Enjoy 🖤

The gardens had become your refuge over the past few days. Under the shade of the trees, on the soft grass, you had found a peaceful haven away from the excitement caused by the arrival of your half-sister and her herd of bastards. The Red Keep made you feel suffocated. And seeing your mother pacing back and forth, running left and right, didn't help. You had to calm her down. You had to keep an eye on your older brother, making sure he didn't slip away into the maze of Flea Bottom for the umpteenth time. You had to hold your family together, and you were tired. 

You almost envied Daeron, in Old Town, away from the hustle and bustle of the court.

At least no one would think of looking for you where you were now. And you could enjoy a moment's respite, poring over the thick book you had borrowed from Aemond's library. Had he known that you had entered his room without warning, had he known that you had dared to disturb the perfect tidiness of his precious bookshelves, he would probably have threatened to feed you to Vhagar. But what he didn't know couldn't hurt him. Besides, you could perhaps find a way to pay him back later. 

For now, you just needed to be left alone.

You stretched out, arms reaching for the sky. The sun's rays crept through the leaves, their warmth leaving a pleasant sensation on your face. Summer was back and you were delighted. The gentle breeze that ruffled the corners of your book and occasionally lifted the silver curls around your face gave you a sense of freedom. You deftly kicked off your shoes and lay back for a moment, your eyes closed.

Footsteps echoed on the cobbled floor, and you sighed in annoyance. You didn't have to open your eyes to see who it was. You recognised his footsteps. So, you kept your eyes closed. With any luck, he would continue his way and leave you alone to find someone else to annoy.

"Hey, my favourite little sister," Aegon exclaimed as he landed heavily beside you, his body brushing against yours. You opened one eye to acknowledge him, then closed it again, your arms crossed behind your head. "Aren't you supposed to be keeping an eye on me?" he insisted when he saw you weren't answering him. "You know, make sure I don't run off or end up drunk somewhere…Stuff like that. Which our mother probably asked you to do."

A smile tugged at the corner of your lips. It was true that Aegon was terribly annoying. But of all your siblings, Aegon was still your favourite.

You resigned yourself to rolling onto your stomach, your chin resting on your hands and your head tilted sideways to face him.  "My dear brother," you replied sarcastically. "Unable to occupy yourself, as usual."  He rolled his eyes before reaching out to remove a leaf that had gotten caught in your hair. He subtly ran his fingers through one of your curls, his touch as light as a feather. "And why have you decided to come and disturb my moment of peace, tell me?"

He blew the leaf away and you watched as it flew away on the breeze. Your big brother's eyes shone with mischief. "Why would I need a specific reason to spend time with my favourite sister?" he added, and it was your turn to roll your eyes. He moved to lie next to you, his body practically pressed against yours. 

If you moved a few centimetres, your elbows would touch his. 

You'd always been inseparable, and the habit had stuck over time, even when the teenage years had driven you apart. But in those moments, you were like two children again, ready to run away from Septa lessons to get into mischief in the castle.

“Because you always have a reason for everything,” you replied, and he looked at you with a fake hurt look that was greatly exaggerated. With Aegon it was easy. It had always been easy.  He wasn't as serious as Aemond, he wasn't as strange as Helena, and he wasn't as far away as Daeron.

"I just wanted to make sure my little sister was all ready to meet her betrothed tonight." He paused. "And also, that she hadn't suddenly decided to become a pious woman and follow the path of the Seven." His voice lowered. You poked him in the ribs. "See? I'm a caring big brother. I care about you."

"Shut up, Aegon," you replied. He laughed. Then he rolled onto his back, arms crossed behind his head, one leg bent, and he closed his eyes. The golden rays caught in his long lashes made him look like an angel. 

Everything he wasn't. 

'Well?' He added. “Excited to see Jacaerys Strong?”

You sat cross-legged. The bracelets on your wrists clinkled. Aegon knew how much the idea horrified you. You had no desire to marry Jace, to sacrifice your freedom for your half-sister's bastard eldest son. You had no desire to leave the Red Keep, to follow him to Dragonstone and spend your life bearing him children. It was your mother and Rhaenyra's idea, of course.

The union of the eldest daughter of one and the eldest son of the other, as a way of repairing the rift that has grown between your families over time. 

As if you were destined to mend fences, to undo the mistakes of your own parents.

It wasn't that you hated Jace. But he was your older sister's son, a bastard who had pretensions he shouldn't have precisely because he was a bastard. He was the model son, the perfect son, the prodigy son, the one who always did everything right. It irritated you. He irritated you with his brown curls and his awkward posture.

 It wasn't fair that your father showered him with praise when he could barely remember your own name.

You stood up, smoothing the folds of your red dress to make yourself more presentable, and you caught your brother's eyes on your body, his eyes riveted on the thin fabric that revealed your delicate shapes. God, you loved to play with that. You knew how to get men wrapped around your finger with your sweet, innocent air, and Aegon was the first victim. You approached him and held out your arm to help him up, which he accepted by pulling himself to his feet heavily. After putting your shoes back on, you bent down to pick up the thick book in your arms. If you lost it, you could be sure that Aemond would be angry with you. And that was a risk you didn't want to take.

 "Perhaps you're right, lēkia. I'd better go and make myself more presentable for my betrothed. I wouldn't wish to disgrace our family." And with that you turned back, your hair swirling in the air behind you as Aegon watched you go with a small smile on his face. 

You knew how much Aegon hated being ignored, and even more so when it came from his little sister. You knew that he would return with his tail between his legs and a pleading look on his face. Between his constant whining and his dirty jokes, he gave you little respite, but it was a game that had developed between you; a game that, deep down, you enjoyed.

He was so predictable. 

“If I had known you liked strong men, I would have dyed my hair,” you heard him shout from behind you. Aegon wasn't the least bit shy. You shook your head, your silver locks bouncing.

"Get lost, you moron," you replied without even turning around.

The meal in honour of your betrothal promised to be exciting.

*** 

As soon as he saw you, your nephew rose to pull the chair beside him in a gallant gesture, and you found yourself watching him. Really watching him. His long, broad fingers on the back of the chair. His dark locks falling around his face. His precise features; his straight nose and deep eyes and square jaw. You hadn't realised how much your nephew had changed. He'd grown up too, and he was now a good head taller than you. 

He had become a strong man, indeed.

But you refused to admit that Jacaerys Strong had become quite pleasant to look at.

"Princess," he said, pushing the chair back for you to sit down. Fingers brushed the skin of your partly bare shoulders. The touch had lasted a fraction of a second, enough to make you wonder if it had been a figment of your imagination. 

"Lord Strong," you replied in greeting. If the words hurt him, Jace didn't show it. Always the perfect son. What would it take to push him over the edge? To crack the shell he'd built around himself? To shatter the image of the gentleman?

To your right, Aegon was already seated. He was holding a glass of wine between his fingers while Aemond seemed to be lecturing him about something you couldn't understand. The exchange between you and Jace had obviously not escaped his notice, and the corner of his mouth had already curled into a smirk. You knew what it meant. 

His silence was full of implications, louder than any words. 

Your mother had lectured him before dinner, warned him to behave because that was what was expected of him, and she was counting on you to make him obey. 

But your older brother didn't say anything. He simply raised his glass in your direction, his lips forming a word that you couldn't read. You weren't sure if you were relieved or disappointed.

You looked at your nephew. He had donned a gambison in the colours of the Velaryons, and you couldn't help but smile at the irony of the situation. 

After all, a bastard in blue was still a bastard.

"Enjoying King's Landing?" you asked your betrothed, in an attempt to start a conversation. His attention turned to you, his eyes widening slightly in surprise. 

“It's quite different from what I remember,” he replied, his voice a little lower than usual, his warm eyes meeting yours. “But of course it all depends on the company you are with."

You hesitated, suddenly unsure.

You hated what the sound of his voice did to you. You hated the way his eyes suddenly made you feel vulnerable. 

Fuck.

“It all depends on the company, indeed. And do you find yourself in good company tonight, nephew?" You gave him a defiant look, as if to judge his reaction. 

As if to unveil what he held within himself. 

“I'm not quite sure. Should I?” He paused, one eyebrow raised. He had taken the bait. “What would yousay?”

His eyes sparkled with something you couldn't quite put your finger on. It wasn't the malice you usually found in Aegon's eyes when he wanted to tease you. It wasn't the gleam that animated his mind when he came up with a new plan for you to cover. 

"I would say I'm in pretty strong company," you replied as you took your cup, a satisfied smile tugging at the corner of your lips that you hid behind the glass. 

You were cruel, giving him no respite, you knew. But you admired his composure. He hadn't cracked yet. 

You knew men who were less patient.

Jace leaned towards you. A slight tilt of the head, just to make sure you were the only one to hear him. As if he wanted to share a secret with you. “Careful, Aunt,” he began, his voice suddenly quieter than before. It was almost a whisper. “I might begin to think you enjoy my company.”

You know I don't, you wanted to reply, but Jace had already straightened up as if nothing had happened, his head turned away from you. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Baela give him a questioning look, and an unfamiliar sensation stirred in the pit of your stomach. 

An unpleasant heat. 

A hint of irritation.

You were annoyed, and you didn't know why.

“Look how handsome your betrothed has made himself for you,” Aegon sneered as he reached for the decanter and leaned in close to your ear. “A true Velaryon, isn't he?” He huffed.

You wanted to slap him on the thigh, make him swallow his mockery. 

“If you think he's so handsome, I can happily leave him to you,” you replied, and Aegon's eyes widened. You saw him take a sip of wine, and something deep inside you told you he probably wasn't opposed to the idea. His usual mischievous smile was hidden behind the wine glass, but there was no mistaking his eyes.

Aegon had that tendency to give himself away, and you could read him like an open book.

The meal proved to be as boring as you had imagined. Small talk exchanged over fake smiles. An illusory moment in which everything seemed to be going well for one evening.

You weren't fooled, and you knew it was all a facade. You knew your family well enough to understand that the slightest spark could set things alight. You knew your brothers well enough to realise that all it would take was a simple glance between them to liven up an evening they found dull.

You just hoped they wouldn't cause too much trouble tonight.

To your left, Jace was still deep in conversation with Baela. They had that kind of complicity that made your blood boil inside; a shared laugh that sounded in your ear like the squeaky music you hated. You frowned. It was you, his betrothed. It was you, not Baela, and you didn't understand why that statement was suddenly so important. 

After all, you despised this union. You hated Jace. You had no desire to promise him the rest of your life.

Jace was a bastard, and you deserved better.

So why did the sight of him touching Baela's hand cause a twinge of jealousy in your body?

His fingers brushed over hers absently. A light touch on her knuckles. 

And all you felt was fire.

And then. Then, your fingers slipped under the wooden table. 

You knew you were playing with fire. And you knew that if anyone paid too much attention to what you were doing, they would see that you weren't exactly behaving like the perfect Princess Targaryen you were supposed to be.

But you didn't care.

You let your fingers wander, running along the outside of Jace's thigh before moving up to settle in the hollow that connected his thigh to his hip. With a faint touch, your fingertips brushed the inside of his thigh, and then lower, tracing small circles through the fabric that was already beginning to tighten. 

Jace almost choked. 

He spat out the contents of his glass, his dark gaze fixed on you. Everyone had fallen silent, their heads turned towards him. Rhaenyra's eyebrows were furrowed in concern.

And you hadn't removed your hand. 

An innocent smile lit up your face, your eyes sparkling with mischief. You wondered if Aegon could read you. If he could see that look on your face, so similar to his own. That distinctive feature you shared. 

Deciding to play with your prey a little longer, you put on your best fake concerned face, pretending to be worried about his health.

"Are you all right, Jacaerys?" you asked, your voice a little higher than usual as your nails dug into the fabric of his breeches. Not to hurt him, of course. Just enough to wake a certain part of him, just enough to remind him that you were his betrothed.

He cleared his throat and coughed again.

“I swallowed wrong,” he replied. 

Your fingers crept a little higher, trying to explore his upper thigh, where you knew your nephew would be sensitive. You didn't want to be rational tonight, you wanted to let the fire take over and consume you. 

You wanted to let the sleeping dragon within you awaken.

The taste of the forbidden was divine, and the heat spreading through your lower belly was too delicious to stop now.

"Be careful, mandianna. We're not married yet." you said.  We're not married yet and look where I've got my fingers. You kept your thoughts to yourself. "I wouldn't want to find myself a widow already," you replied in High Valyrian, amused, and Jace looked at you with his big brown eyes, somewhere between anger and excitement, embarrassment and curiosity. 

Under the table, out of sight, your hand brushed the stretched fabric where you could read the confirmation of what he was feeling, the manifestation of his desire.

He was hard.

Perfect.

It was you who provoked this. 

He responded to your touch.

You felt a familiar breath on the back of your neck and realised Aegon was leaning against you again. He was pretending to serve you some of the vegetables that had just been brought in for the starter, taking the opportunity to whisper in your ear as he did so well. "Try to be more discreet, little sister," he chuckled softly, his voice nothing more than a whisper to make sure no one heard you. Discreetly, he nodded to where your hand still rested on your nephew's thigh. He tilted his head. "Rhaenyra is right in front of us. Do you think she can see what you're doing to her son under the table?"

He put on his best disinterested face. As if the words exchanged between you were nothing more than banalities. 

As if he weren't commenting on the indecent deeds you were doing under the table, unworthy of a girl of your rank.

"Shut up, Aegon," you replied, trying to keep a straight face. You didn't want him drawing any more of your family's attention to you, especially when you hadn't finished playing.

Your big brother gave you a knowing wink, as if to promise you that your secret was safe with him.

And you decided to continue entertaining yourself with the new game you'd invented.

You were bold, and you decided that if Jace didn't already know it, he would find out soon enough.

*** 

It wasn't that Jace was disappointed with his betrothal. You were divine, and the dress you wore made you so regal that he couldn't keep his attention anywhere but on your body, on your cleavage so gracefully offered to his gaze.

It was precisely why he had turned to Baela, why he had tried to distract himself with their conversation, why he had desperately tried to find something else to hold on to.

Because you were making him lose his footing. And that was a feeling he hated.

No, Jace did not regret his betrothal. You were everything a man could want; you were beautiful, you were regal, you were clever, and above all, you were a Targaryen. A princess. The king's daughter.

The only problem was you were distant and elusive.

Jace remembered your pretensions and mockeries from his childhood. He remembered the little brat you were, following in your older brother's footsteps. He remembered a little girl with a strong temper, who knew what she wanted. He remembered the pranks, not just the ones he'd taken part in, like the Pink Dread, but the ones that had turned against him because of you and Aegon, too.

It was clear that the little girl you had once been, taller than him, with long silver curls and an air of self-assurance far too confident for her young age, had grown into a beautiful young woman. 

And that was something Jace hadn't considered.

He couldn't concentrate on his conversation with Baela, not when your fingers were digging through the linen of his breeches into the flesh of his thigh, as if to remind him to whom he had been promised.  

Your fingers, slender, light, burning against his inner thigh. 

He clenched his jaw.

All around him, the words and faces of the guests mingled in a swirl of sound and colour. Fuck.

Fuck.

His breeches were really becoming too tight.

You'd dared to do that. You'd dared to slip your fingers under the table, in front of everyone, and Jace didn't know whether to admire your audacity or wrap his fingers around your wrist and force you to take them off. 

Suddenly he felt hot, a familiar warmth spreading between his loins. 

He wasn't sure he could get up, not with his member pulsing between his thighs. 

Fuck. You weren't supposed to make him feel like this. He wasn't supposed to feel such a desire for you when you weren't officially married.

This dinner was about officially declaring your betrothal, not consummating a union not yet pronounced.

He was trying to calm down. He tried to ground himself back into reality. Perhaps by staring intently at the contents of his plate he could ignore the sensation of your fingers rising dangerously high; the desperate need to finally have your fingers wrapped around his manhood.

His knees slammed into the table in a sudden movement.

Your fingers had just brushed the bulge that had formed between his thighs. 

And he needed more, infinitely more.

You couldn't have the cruelty to arouse such lust in him and then leave him like that. He would never forgive you.

"Stop that," he growled in your direction, low enough for no one else to hear. 

But you still had that damn innocent smile, that damn audacity to act as if nothing had happened. 

"I don't know what you're talking about, mandianna." Nephew. The sound of the High Valyrian rolling off your tongue sent a wave of heat between his legs. Seven hells, you were going to be the death of him. 

He wanted more. 

He needed more. 

More of your fingers around him, more of your tongue against his length, more of that innocent look on your face as you knelt before him, more of your tight cunt.

Jace was on the verge of losing it. You'd made him a slave to his own desire. You had closed your claws around him and he knew there was no turning back now.

“If you play with fire too much, you might get burned, muña," Jace retorted, leaning towards you, and he felt the imperceptible movement of your hand twitching at the threat. Aunt.

Despite his dwindling strength, King Viserys tried to make a speech about family, betrothal, and a whole host of other undoubtedly honourable values, but neither you nor Jace paid any attention. You were caught up in your own game.

Then Jace stood up, forcing you to remove your hand. 

You could see he was uncomfortable, for you knew where to look, for you knew what you had done. 

You knew he had a painful erection between his thighs, and it was all because of you.

But you could only admire your nephew's composure. 

“To my uncles, Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond. I have fond memories of our shared childhood.” His glass between his fingers, he raised it in the direction of his uncles, then turned to you. "And to my sweet and beautiful bride-to-be, who I'm sure will never cease to surprise me with her daring and surprising side. May our marriage be filled with joy and satisfaction".

The toasts continued, as did the meal. The servants had brought the rest of the dishes consisting of steaming meat and tasty garnishes. It was almost too joyous, almost too happy to be real. As if there was a threat lurking somewhere in the corner.

But Jace still had to teach you a lesson.

The music started, the sound of instruments filling the room. Jace apologised to Baela and walked over to his aunt. His other aunt. Your sister. 

And you felt the anger return; the same inner turmoil as before. 

Jace had held out his hand to Helaena and led her to dance a little further away. You immediately exchanged a questioning look with your brother, who had also stared at Jace in disbelief as he had walked away on your little sister's arm.

"So?" Aegon began. "It seems your betrothed didn't appreciate your little game?" You glared at him, but he just scoffed. "If he changes his mind... You know I like it." 

You wondered if you could do the same. You wondered if you could ask Aegon to dance and if Jace would feel the same bubbling inside him, the same jealousy coursing through his veins.

You hated that feeling. 

You shouldn't feel that kind of emotion, especially not for him.

You obviously didn't see it, too focused on your own annoyance, but Jace kept glancing in your direction, as if to make sure you saw him. 

He wanted to make you jealous. He wanted to fuel the feeling he'd identified in you. He wanted to catch you at your own game. And one thing was certain, Jace hadn't played all his cards yet.

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

After a moment that seemed an eternity, your betrothed returned to sit beside you, Helena going back to her own seat. You were less and less able to hide your annoyance, and no doubt Jace noticed, for he leaned towards you, a satisfied look on his face. "Your sister is very sweet," he murmured. He knew very well that this simple phrase would be enough to send you over the edge. 

You liked attention. You liked compliments. You liked to be praised. 

You said nothing back. But Aegon had his trademark grin, the one that stretched his lips when he had a devious plan, and he was already getting up on the pretext of serving Baela some wine so he could whisper in his nephew's ear.  "I know my little sister can be particularly demanding.” He paused. “And difficult to tame. So if you ever need any advice... Or demonstrations…"

Jace was fuming, but he knew he had to keep his cool. It was Aegon, typical Aegon, to push his buttons, to succeed in making him suddenly unsure of himself, to make his mind confused. His fingers closed around his cup, his jaw clenched, and it took all his self-control not to throw the contents in his uncle's face. 

He didn't even look at Aegon, who had returned to his seat with a triumphant smile.

But you felt something under the table. Something slipped between the folds of your dress, along your skin, discreetly, lightly, a delicious touch against your skin that made you want more.

Your eyes widened.

Jace. 

Jace the perfect son. Jace the model son. 

Jace slipping his fingers under your dress, touching the skin of your thigh, rising dangerously high where you could already feel the wetness forming in the crease between your thighs. 

This was the moment he snapped, you knew it. You hadn't heard your brother's words, you had only seen him lean towards your betrothed, but you knew he must have struck a chord with Jacaerys Velaryon. That he had probably touched his weak spot. 

Or perhaps you were just getting your comeuppance. After teasing him, after making him hard and desperate.

Jace moved his hand, tracing the space where your skin was soft and tender, all the way up your thigh, with a slow, gentle touch. His hand moved further towards the centre of you, where you were sensitive, and he brushed against your crotch. He didn't even need to apply any pressure with his fingertips to tell that you were wet.

Your hips automatically moved towards his hand in search of more contact, causing you to wiggle in your chair. All you wanted to do was grab his wrist, force him to slide his fingers under the fabric separating you, force him to touch you right here. But you were still at dinner and the game was becoming far too dangerous. 

"I told you to be careful," Jace whispered as he withdrew his fingers and resumed his serious gaze, his fingers fidgeting on the wood of the table. “Two can play at this game.”

And then perhaps the Seven heard you. Perhaps they were offering you a way out. To be honest, you weren't sure if it was a miracle or a curse. For Aemond had risen, and he had done what he did best; he had made a mocking and provocative speech to his nephews. 

Everything happened quickly. Jace and Luke leapt to their feet to answer the provocation, Aemond and Aegon were ready to fight back, and even Baela and Rhaena were prepared to defend their family. You had no time to move, no time to react, for dinner was already over, and so was your little game of cat and mouse with Jace.

This was your way out, you knew it. You were tired of sitting around a table listening to boring speeches. And the entertainment that had consisted of sliding your fingers under the table to push Jacaerys Strong over the edge had now turned against you.

"I shall rest," you warned your mother, who was deep in conversation with Rhaenyra, her features wrinkled with worry. "Tonight's events have left me somewhat tired. And I think a night's rest would do me a world of good."  She nodded, stroking your hair, and you knew instinctively what she was thinking. Always the perfect daughter.

And as you passed through the heavy door of the dining room, you hurried off in a direction that was not that of your room.

Oh, but if she knew.

*** 

Thankfully, the corridor was deserted. You didn't have the slightest desire to run into a guard who would ask you where you were going or escort you to your room for security reasons. 

Your steps were as discreet as possible on the stone floor, like those of a small mouse. You moved quickly, stealthily, almost on tiptoe.

Only the crackle of the fire broke the heavy silence between the cold walls, where the dancing shadows of the flames distorted.

You slowed your pace. You had a doubt. You weren't sure which door was the one you were looking for. 

And then suddenly, as you reached the end of the corridor, you felt a hand grab your wrist and pull you against the wall, away from prying eyes. A strong grip, as if it didn't want to let you vanish again.

Jace was holding you between the wall and his own body. Despite the darkness, you could see his eyes shining in the candlelight, fueled by a devouring hunger you didn't know he possessed. He stared at you for a moment. His eyes in yours. A tension hung between you, burning, ready to consume you both, and you were completely willing.

Gently yet firmly he turned your body. Your chest against the cold wall, your back against his warm chest, and you pulled your hips back to provoke him. You wouldn't succumb so easily, not to Jacaerys.

He pressed himself against you, moving his pelvis forward so you could feel his hard member against the top of your buttocks.

"Do you feel what you're doing to me?" Another thrust of his hips. "Can you feel the effect you're having on me?" He pressed harder against you. Through the layers of fabric between you, you could almost feel him throb. Gods, he seemed big. "Teasing me all evening... Such a tease, aren't you?"

If it wasn't the consequence of your own actions.

You stifled a moan with your arm so as not to attract any patrolling guards. What you were doing was dangerous. At any moment you could be caught. At any moment you could be in big trouble.

But you couldn't stop now. Not when the best was yet to come.

You moved again, seeking more contact, seeking to make Jace harder and more painful than he already was, and you turned your head to challenge him. "What if it's you who's just too weak?"

You felt his hoarse breath against the back of your neck, at the base of your hair. He seemed to be hesitating, thinking. About what he was going to do to you, about what he was going to do to make sure you were responsible for your actions. Again he turned you so that you had your back to the wall, facing him, and you recognised the gleam of desire in his eyes.

Towering over you, he lowered his gaze to you, your faces inches apart. For a moment he let his eyes devour you, wandering from your eyes to your lips, from your lips to your breasts, visible through the fabric of your dress. He wanted to keep this image printed behind his eyelids; your half-open lips, your pleading gaze, like that of a little girl caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

You looked ravishing.

"Tell me to stop," Jace murmured. And you knew it was the sensible thing to do, you knew it was better to stop everything now, while it was still possible to turn back. For you weren't married yet. 

But you had no desire to be responsible.

His fingers curled around a lock of your hair and tucked it behind your ear, waiting for your answer before continuing.

"What if I don't want you to stop?" you replied, your eyes locked with his. He felt your hand against his cheek as you detailed his face, tracing his well-sculpted cheeks, and he longed for more contact, his face seeking the warmth of your palm. 

You put your arms around his neck to draw him closer, to close the distance between your lips, to feel his warmth against your body.

To quench this desire, this need that was becoming uncontrollable.

And your lips met in a feverish, urgent kiss. He pressed you further against the wall, his fingers running down your sides, brushing against the breasts he so craved.

He found your hips and his fingers worked frantically up the bottom of your dress in a crumpled ball of fabric to reach your core. "Look at how wet you are." His fingers brushed your folds through your undergarments. "All of this just for teasing me." He pressed one hand against the wall, still leaning against you, but not giving you what you wanted: his hand had stopped, and you tried to wiggle your hips to force him to continue, to force him to give you what you wanted.

Deep down, you loved the way he was losing control. 

You loved that side of Jace you didn't know. 

So you grabbed his wrist, guiding his fingers under the last barrier that separated his skin from yours. 

The sensation was delicious. 

The touch of his warm fingers against your folds sent a wave of heat from your lower belly through your entire body. You didn't want him to stop. "Here." You breathed against his lips. "This is where muña needs you." Aunt. He tensed beneath you, and you wondered if it was the ambiguity of the family tie, uttered in High Valyrian, that had such an effect on him. 

You let your lips brush against his.

He collected your wetness on his fingers, exploring the slit between your folds up to your little pearl. You were soaking wet. And you desperately needed him inside you. 

His fingers slid down to your opening where he applied a little pressure with the tip of his index finger without ever penetrating you.

"I know," he murmured, drawing small circles before abandoning your opening to return to your bud. "But I can't give you what you want now."

You whimpered under his cruelty, against his lips. 

You could see through his game. 

He wanted to make you beg, but you weren't the kind to beg. You were the one with the power and you were going to show him.

"We shouldn't stay here," you muttered, rubbing yourself against your nephew's hand. "If someone catches us..."

Jace nodded his head in agreement, withdrawing his fingers glistening with your juice, which you guided to his own lips, spreading the stickiness against his lips. 

"If you're a good boy, I'll let you taste me."

And with that, he pulled you into his room.

*** 

Lying on the bed where you'd pushed him, Jace watched as you removed your dress, his prominent erection stretching the fabric of his breeches. The dress fell to the floor, forming a red puddle that you stepped over, one foot after the other.

Your nephew couldn't look away from your hypnotic figure, but his eyes inevitably wandered back to your breasts. You'd seen him glancing at your cleavage all evening, you could tell he wanted to run his fingers over your soft flesh, his lips over your nipples, and now that you were completely naked in front of him, you could see the unmistakable desire in his eyes.

You walked up to him. He clenched his jaw when he saw you. You, and the perfection of your shape, your little pointed nipples, the tantalising path that led from your chest to the space between your thighs where he knew you were soaked for him. 

The flat of your hand pressed against his chest, forcing him to lie down between the pillows. He complied, never breaking the eye contact between the two of you, and you took your place on top of him, your legs on either side of his body. His husky breath escaped through his parted lips, lightly caressing your face.

You were naked, he was still dressed, and you had infinite power over him.

You lowered your hips against his covered crotch, the essence of your desire staining the linen of his breeches as your hips began to move slowly.

You leaned down and traced his jaw with the tip of your lips, planting kisses along his throat. Underneath you, his member twitched. Mimicking what he'd done earlier, you let your fingers rest on the painful bulge between his legs and whispered, "I know." You applied a little more pressure, drawing a moan from between his lips. "I know it's painful. But I can't give you what you want right now."

Jace growled. He wanted to turn you over, slam you against the mattress, pound into you and make you swallow your insolence. But he wanted to see how far you were willing to go. He wanted to see you keep control for a while longer.

You deftly undid his breeches to make it easier for your hand to slip through. You found his hard member, warm and heavy between your fingers.

It was a new sensation. As a model princess, you'd never ventured into this territory, saving your maidenhood for your future husband.

But Jace was your future husband.

You closed your fingers around him, your thumb collecting the sticky beads that had already formed at the tip of his cock and spreading it along his length. 

"First I want to come on your tongue," your lips articulated against the skin of his throat as the hand that was in his breeches moved up his torso to close around his jaw, your thumb caressing his lower lip to emphasise your words. "Will you let me?" you added. In response, he let the tip of his tongue slip between his lips, touching the pad of your finger. "Let me show you," he whispered.

And indeed, Jace worked devotedly between your thighs, his tongue tracing the length of your slit, drinking in your essence as it flowed from your entrance like a delicious nectar. His tongue tickled your little knob, his thumbs spreading your folds to gain access to the treasure he coveted.

One of his fingers found your hole clenching around nothing, tracing small circles against it to force you to voice what you wanted. "Do you need me here?" he whispered against your flesh, the vibration of his deep voice sending shivers through your core. Your hands buried themselves in the dark mass of his hair and you moved your hips against his face, urging him to maintain the contact of his mouth against you. "Use your words, muña," he added, despite his nose being buried between your folds.

When you gave him the answer he was waiting for, he let a finger enter you in a delicious stretch. You held back a moan, your fingers digging deeper into his hair, not caring if you were hurting him or not. He continued to explore your cunt with his tongue, like a thirsty man, like a devoted man.

You wouldn't last long, your release close.

Jace then added a second finger. The sensation of his fingers inside you, against that rough spot, combined with that of his tongue between your folds, against your pearl, was simply divine. 

"Go on," Jace started, but you immediately cut him off. "Shut up." You didn't want him to speak. You wanted him to continue with his damn tongue, with his broad fingers inside you. You didn't want him to stop. "I am... I am close."

And your climax washed over your entire body like a wave of warmth. Your legs closed around your nephew's face.

It was probably one of the best sensations you'd ever experienced.

Still between your legs, his fingers gripping your thighs, Jace collected your arousal on his tongue, sending shivers of overstimulation down your spine, and your whole body shuddering in a brutal spasm. You straightened up, knees still bent, your hand returning to your nephew's hair to guide him over you, his face close to yours. You stroked his cheek gently, as if to let him know he was a good boy, and your thumb picked up the sticky fluid that was smeared all over the bottom of his face.

You were both out of breath. You from the intense release you'd felt, he from the dedication he'd shown.

A smirk formed at the corner of your lips, and you pressed your thumb between his lips to ensure he didn't waste anything. Jace tilted his face close to yours. "You taste divine," he breathed, turning your cheeks red. "But now I need to be inside you."

His fingers slipped between your thighs, where your centre was pulsing, still far too sensitive from the ministrations he had given you. 

"You can give me another, can't you?" He asked, and you nodded, so sore.

After he undressed, Jace pushed on your shoulders to make you lie down, but you skilfully changed positions, taking him by surprise.

You were unwilling to give him the power he wanted, not yet.

Straddling him, you moved your hips to rub your crotch against his erect manhood, spreading your wetness along his length. Beneath you, his torso rose and fell rapidly, and the grunts he let out conveyed his need for more. So your hand sought his hard member, guiding it to your entrance without letting it penetrate you. "So?" you asked playfully. "Do you think you've been a good boy ? Do you think you deserve to be inside me?" You wanted to make him beg, and Jace could see right through you. "To be the first?" you added, lowering your voice slightly, as if you were telling him a secret.

But he wasn't sure he could hold out much longer.

So he capitulated, giving you the defeat you'd been waiting for.

"Yes." he breathed. "Please." Your victorious smile stretched your lips and you guided him further against you, pressing his erection against your opening. Fuck. He was massive.

He was about to breathe a sigh of relief, ready to feel your velvet walls tighten around him, but you blocked his hip movement. 

It wasn't enough.

"Please who?" you asked, your fingers moving back and forth around his manhood. He glared at you. You were gloating. "Please, muña," he finally begged, and you gave him what he wanted.

You lowered your hips to let him slide into you in a long thrust that stretched you around him. He was indeedmassive, and the new sensation of having him inside you was a delicious mix of dull pain and burning pleasure. You stood still for a moment to adjust to his presence inside you, your core throbbing around him. The initial pinch gradually dissipated, replaced by a pleasant sensation that sent a wave of warmth through your body. 

And then he began to thrust in and out, pushing up to sink into you. "Fuck...fuck, you're tight," Jace growled. Your loose hair cascaded down either side of your face, tickling his cheeks, and he caught it in a messy bun to hold it behind your head. 

You could feel the same pleasure as before building up in your lower abdomen. 

Gods, you could feel him so intensely. So deeply too. Bouncing rhythmically against that particular part of you. 

You buried your head in his neck, his woody scent filling your nostrils.

It was primal. Animal, between the two of you. All that mattered was the here and now. Your body against his, the sweat beading between you, the moans filling the room.

Jace tugged at your hair, causing you to throw your head back, freeing access to your chest, and he straightened up into a sitting position, his member still deep inside you, to find your breast. He buried his face in it and your hand instinctively found the back of his head to stroke his hair. Jace's lips traced a trail of kisses down the valley between your breasts, following the curve of your flesh before closing around your nipple, which he sucked gently. One of his arms wrapped around you to hold you tight against him, his other hand resting on the breast he wasn't devouring.

You stayed like that for a while, your legs on either side of him, his mouth seeking solace in your breasts, the divine sensation of being full, with him inside you, in the softness of the night, the flames rocking your lovemaking.

One of Jace's arms finally found your back and in one swift movement he reversed position. He desperately needed more, sensing that he wouldn't last long. 

He pinned you beneath him, against the mattress, your legs immediately closing around him and the pace quickened.  His thrusts became more messy, more sloppy because of your two combined essences.  "You're mine, now" he grunted, and you shivered. His index and middle fingers wandered between your folds, caressing the spot where you were joined before moving to the pearl hidden at the top of your slit. "Am I?" you replied teasingly. You could feel him throbbing inside you. "Then be a good boy now and give muña your seed."

That was the spark that ignited the fire. Jace quickened the rhythm of his hips, his fingers still buried between your folds, his movements erratic. With each of his thrusts, you felt his member hitting that sensitive spot against your spongy inner walls. You tensed and for the second time that evening, your release flooded your entire body.  You were followed by your nephew as Jace spilled into you, his seed painting white ropes against your womb.

He lay still inside you for a moment, his cock softening as you both caught your breath, your hands in his dark curls, his head at the nape of your neck. 

You winced as he withdrew from your still sensitive core, his now cold seed flowing between your thighs. Jace dropped down beside you, satisfied. Then you turned to him. You grabbed his wrist one last time and guided his fingers to your centre, where your folds were smeared with the remnants of your lovemaking.

"Look how much you've left inside me," you whispered into his ear, making Jace collect his own seed on his fingertips and push it back into you. "I'm going to keep it all inside me, would you like that, sweet boy?" you whispered again.

And Jace pulled you against him to kiss you, his member stirring between his thighs, against you. It was true that he'd given you the upper hand this time. But he was ready to show you what he could do. You snuggled up against his chest, tucking your head under his chin.

"Perhaps…We should bring the wedding date forward."

And he smiled.

[divinesolas]

jacaerys x bethrothed!reader - grief

a.n: felt so sick after seeing the new still i needed to write smth

You were pacing in front of the door waiting for him to walk in. You had seen vermax fly over and knew he was finally back. It had been so long since you last saw him you had no clue how you were even going to react when you did.

You had no clue how he was going to react. You had not see him since he flew away from dragonstone, not before he had given you a kiss and smile promising to return shortly.

The doors suddenly hope and he walks him. The first thing you notice about him was his hair, and then you notice the confused look on his face as he glances at you then at the room full of people who look at him with pity.

“What has happened?”

It should be one of them to break the news to him, his mother or even his father but the two of them seem too distracted in their grief they were not even here to greet him.

You walk over to him and wrap you arms around him in a tight hug, he does not reciprocate it as he whispers to you asking you what has happened. You feel the way he stiffens when one of the maesters begins to speak and informs him. You pull back and stay at his side as he stares wide eyed at him, tears already glossing over his eyes. “What happened?”

You watch as he loses his composure the more and more the maester speaks. The way his breath quickens and his eyes only grow with tears. He turns away, breathing heavily out of his mouth as he grips his necklace tightly in his hands. You know being in this room with all these people is not good for him.

“All of you should leave.” You stare at the room and they all seem frozen, “GET OUT!” the room all quickly shuffles around and everyone dashes from the room. You turn your attention back to jacaerys who has bend over slightly, attempting to reach out to him but he quickly slaps your hands away.

“jace-” “It is my fault.” You shake your head though he can not see it and feel yourself also getting chocked up. “You know that is not true.”

He shakes his head and attempts to walk away from you but he stumbles and bit, you got to try and help him but he pushes you away from him. “There is nobody else to blame but me! if i had not been so foolish, to blinded i,,” He cannot continue to speak as tears continue to run down his face, the grip he has on his necklace tightens until he turns to one of the walls and lets out a loud shout as he rips it off his next and chucks it against the wall.

You quickly rush to his side as he falls to his knees and clutches his chest, when he tries to push you away this time his hands are weaker and you ignore him wrapping your arms around him. He leans against you as he sobs, his body violently shaking, his eyes tightly shut as he heaves into you chest, you can feel the tears soaking into your dress.

You rub his arms up and down and lightly rock back and forth, your own tears flow up to your eyes but you cant try now, not as you try to comfort him the best you can. You lean your mouth next to his ear and press a kiss to his temple. “It is nobody else fault other then aemonds arrogance and borros’ greed. It is not your fault my love.”

Your fingers comb your his curls as he slowly begins to settle down a little bit. You don’t know how long the two of you are sitting there on the floor, you do not care the way yours knees ache or the way your dress clings uncomfortably to your skin all that matters to you now is comforting him.

“Should we go see your mother?” He shakes his head and presses against you tightly. “How can i bare to look at her?”

“She needs you jace, just as you need her.” With your words he nods and you help him stand, he clings to you as you two walk through the empty hallways to his mothers chambers.

Before he opens the door he turns to you once more and you can see he’s clearly attempting to let out a smile but his face only contorts oddly before he sighs, “Thank you.”

You nod and give him your best smile as he turns and opens the door, shutting it quickly behind him. You walk away, fearing if you were even too close you’d be intruding on their intimate grieving time.

You finally allow yourself to cry once you enter the hall once more, walking over to the walk and picking up the pieces of his necklace in your hand, it didn't look unfixable, with some work you could repair it just as you’re sure he will be able to repair himself after this.

--

perm jace taglist <3

@tyronesien @itsbookworm987 @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese @urmomsgirlfriend1 @jacesvelaryons

[councilofcastamere]

WINTER NIGHTS | CREGAN STARK X TARG!READER ꧂

a b r i d g e m e n t : With tensions rising, your elder half-sister Rhaenyra arranges for you to seek asylum in the freezing land of the North. And fortunately for you, Cregan is there to show you how Northmen operate.

TW: penetration, loss of virginity, breeding kink, mentions gender roles but in a sexy way, sexual tension, sibling jealousy, childhood neglect, mentions of death by birth, shitty character development

A/N: I know the girly portrayed is Visenya but her body is tea in this so maybe I do know best…

The second daughter. The oh-so passed over maiden. Not belonging to anything, nor belonging to nothing. Not the first, and not the last. An ever enduring memory to a passed over era. Nothing significant. Never anything significant.

That’s what you were. Insignificance. A beautiful insignificance, if you could see beauty in tragedy. Beauty in all the ways of life. All the little horrible things that make up a big, beautiful, picture. People shan’t look close, you’d assure yourself.

But you were you. Born to the everlasting way of royal life. To the peaceful Viserys, and his second wife, a woman whose name is not all that important. Another maiden from a noble house that perished to childbirth. Lost her life, giving life.

And as it did not to many maidens, the Gods did not grant you the chance to grow up with your mother. The blood that dripped down her thighs had covered you from head to toe as you came into existence, and she had naught of you in her arms before a deep and long slumber overcame her. The stranger had come for her, and he did not slow down on its way. He’d taken her as quick as she’d given you to the world. A quick exchange, you’d suppose.

Now and then you think about her. What she might have looked like, what she might have liked, what she might have been had she survived the wretched burden of your existence. You’d often wonder if infants who survived childbirth ever felt as deep a burden as she did. To have your very first breath of life tainted with the death of an innocent. Tainted with tragedy.

Growing up in King’s Landing hadn’t been all that as it sounded. You’d never really been that happy, as ungracious as it sounded.

You had an older sister - Rhaenyra - who’d occasionally humoured you. You’d never seen much of her, really. Perhaps it was your own fault as well. For not actively seeking her out. For not being the younger sister one was supposed to be. Some people - as close to you as they may be - are just unattainable in your mind. Your kin aren’t your kin until you allow it.

You have better companions than her, you figured. You had your lady-in-waitings. Lady Vievenne of house Swann. Lady Laycie of house Oldflowers. Lady Claere of house Ambrose. Lady Evelyne of house Hightower, who was, by all accounts, a gift from your newest stepmother, Alicent of the house Hightower.

What you also had was younger siblings. Such as Aegon. Though he is naught but a skirt enthusiast, swimming along the sea of young maidens at his whim. But he cares not whether they are, does he?

And oh, do not get yourself started on the one-eyed prince and that smug little smile on his sharp-featured face. Nonetheless, he was gentle. Oh so gentle with his touch. And oh so sinister in the way that made you feel important enough to be in his good graces.

However, you chose to distance yourself from all parties involved as fate made it clear what it had in store. A great slap to the great Targaryen dynasty. A dark cloud looming over the already curse-clad clan.

For even you knew that the only thing that could tear down the House of the Dragon, was itself.

“Sister.” you greeted one late evening, having taken flight to Dragonstone on your she-dragon, Starfyre. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

“…y/n.” the elder sister called out, a small smile on her lips. “I… am glad for your visit.”

“…I’m certain you are,” you say, trying with all your might to contain a frown.

You eyed her awkwardly as she wiped her sweaty hands off her dress, letting out a sigh as the elder royal wasn’t quite certain how to approach the topic.

“I… understand… things quite haven’t been… that active, in our kinship,” Rhaenyra speaks up, taking a step closer. “And for that, I apologise.”

You could only nod, a small smile gracing your lips at the heartwarming confession of absent love.

“I apologise, also.” you smiled, your hands finding each other behind your back. “I suppose I should have been the one to seek your company and counsel as well.”

“Good.” Rhaenyra smiled awkwardly, a silence engulfing the echo-ridden chambers. “The reason, as to why I called you, might be surprising.”

You froze slightly, heart pounding as the possibilities of implications travelled through your mind. The goosebumps on your arms grew more prominent as a cold breeze passed through.

“Oh?” you answered, cocking a brow. “And what might that be, sister?”

“I ask of you to travel to the North,” Rhaenyra admits, a tone of seriousness overshadowing the warm moment. “I have already sent a raven to Lord Cregan Stark, and he has agreed to host you. If it pleases you, of course.”

No answer came out of your lips, save for your a mere breath. You felt a pang in your heart, consuming your every emotion, making certain you cannot detect how you feel about the news.

A dragon in the north? What a jest. You’d do better in Dorne, surrounded by sun-kissed squires and stable boys than laddish lordlings and Northern butchers.

“And… why should I?” you asked, respect in your tone. “Pardon me, my sister, but why have you made this decision for me?”

“Tensions are rising, y/n. You know that as well as I do.” Rhaenyra sighs, her body language giving up on its tense posture. “And I am aware of your… complex feelings on it. But to the North you must. I’m sending Rhaena to the Va-”

“Yes, because Rhaena gets to be hosted by a relative of yours, in safety. Meanwhile you sent me off to some Northern stranger!”

“Y/n.” Rhaenyra warned, raising a brow. She took a step closer as you composed your words. “You are my sister, and I will have you safe in the North. The Northmen are honourable men, and in time you’ll know.”

✫彡

And so you were, clad in thick fur, lady Vivenne and lady Evelyne at both sides of yourself. Across from you sat three servants, and somewhere else sat your sworn shield.

“It will be splendid.” Evelyne beamed, properly adjusting her hair, tied up in a bun, similar to the ones the older maidens wear. “We shall meet every dusk, and speak about our day. In front of the fire.”

“Not if I can help it.” you sighed softly. “Apologies, my ladies, but I’ll let you two get at it. I’d love to explore the North in solitude.”

“Right…” Vivenne nodded, looking through the small peep holes as the carriage slowed down, just outside the gates of Winterfell. “We’ve arrived, I suppose. You’ll have to greet Lord Stark. If he’s anything we’ve heard of and more, I wish you luck.”

You only nodded, watching as your ladies exited the carriage, standing at the side of the door. Their faces are cast down, as if in mourning. Perhaps they’re mourning the life of luxury provided at King’s Landing.

You could not blame them for it, really. From growing up in their own house, to growing up in the Royal house, to trade it again to live to see the snowy winters of Winterfell.

You shook slightly, the cold air hitting your face in an instant as you slightly lifted your dress, taking a step out of the three provided for the carriage.

You looked ahead of you, eyes locking on the noblemen and women, standing straight and proud. The women bore clothes of low quality, so obviously sewn to fit any class. The men wore dark furs, contrasting to the blue clothing of the opposite sex.

And in the midst of it, stood Cregan Stark, accompanied by a mere little boy of just two years of age. Your eyes locked upon his stormy-grey ones, his face etched into a stern expression, eyes focused on yours.

You maintained the eye contact, taking each step closer to him.

“Princess Y/N.” Cregan greeted formally, taking your soft hand in his. “Welcome to Winterfell. I am Lord Cregan Stark.”

“Thank you, Lord Stark.” you smile, curtsying in a fashionable manner. Your eyes stood glued on his as his lips brushed against the palm of your hand. “I’m truly honoured to be here.”

“…I’m certain you are.” Cregan answered, eyeing you skeptically.

Hearing false compliments wasn’t out of the ordinary for the wolf of Winterfell. He knew well enough that you weren’t suited for the North. You were a Southern lady, used to the life of feasts, luxury, and sparkly dresses.

“Let us go inside, shall we?” you smiled charmingly, looking up at the tall castle with dread in your eyes.

“Aye, so we shall.” Cregan nodded, his broad shoulders most notable as he sauntered into the opened gates.

✫彡

The first night went unfamiliar to you, the harsh blows of the cold weather creating a prominent presence looming over the already melancholic times.

You sat in your chambers, sitting at the stony window sill as you watched Cregan from above.

The lord was overlooking young squires on the courtyard, engaged in conversation with the knight in charge of guiding the young to-be-knights.

All dressed in fur, shoulders looking as if they were padded. Cregan’s hair was tied up, with two front strands escaping and hanging loose. His grey-blue eyes stood glued at watching the young squire’s techniques, and you could only sigh as you got lost in his appearance.

Ever since stepping foot into the North of Westeros, you’d developed a strange sense of interest in the beauty of Northern men. How they all dressed so grimly, but intimidating. How they’re oh-so honourable and hard working. How they always seemed so clean shaven but rugged all at once.

And you could not help but wonder what it would be like had you wedded one of them.

Being completely honest, you’d never really been the sort of maiden to stay inside of her chambers, waiting for her husband to return from his duty, deprived of affection.

With any Southern lord, being a doting unappreciated wife would never cross your mind.

But with Northern men, however, you had the feeling your efforts wouldn’t go unnoticed.

Before you could continue your vulgarly confusing thoughts, you saw Cregan’s eyes shift to yours, finding your gaze.

You could only lean against the window, a hand on the stony side as you gazed back at him. Your hair was loose, and you were dressed in your creamy beige nightdress.

You held his gaze for a moment, until ultimately turning away, leaving the implications of that gaze to his imagination.

✫彡

By the third day, you’d been reading in the old library belonging to House Stark. You’d sat on a plush seat, the dusty book on your lap as your gentle fingers flipped through the pages.

But you weren’t alone.

Cregan Stark sat near you, his knees in almost touching proximity to yours.

“Aye, the North is cold, but it’s honest.” he tells you, gently shutting his own book. “The snow doesn’t lie about its intention. No courtly games like they play in the South.”

“Oh, please.” you smiled, shutting your book as well. your body shifted so it was facing his, resting your head on one hand. “The courtly games are what makes it so fun.”

“Now, riddle me this.” You smiled, noting his full attention on you. His body language exuded calmness, and you felt secure in the knowledge that his comfort lies with you. “How do you not like courtly games? Personally, it makes my life all the more amusing.”

“I suppose it’s all jesting for you, princess.” Cregan said, his eyes resting on yours. “Amusement or not, I’d rather know where I stand…”

“With you, however…” His eyes trailed down to your bare shoulder, the white nightdress you’re wearing very much a sight of sore eyes. “I think I know.”

“Oh, do you?” you teased, cocking a brow. “And how so, pray tell?”

“Well…” he grunted, shifting in his seat to tighten the proximity around you two. “You’d do well not to cross any Northern man. They don’t take well to… courtly games.”

You only smiled at that, your upper body instinctively leaning in, albeit torturously slow.

“And, uh, suppose I… marry a Northern lord.” you teased quite coquettishly, a hand moving to rest on the thick fur coating his body. “What am I in for.”

You watched as his smirk only widened, gently taking the hand that rested on his fur, and taking it in his.

“Marry a Northern lord like me, and have your nights warmed under the thick fur of blankets.” he says, his thumb rubbing against your knuckles. “Northern loyalty runs deep, princess. That’s what you’d be in for.”

You nodded slowly, and you could not help but notice those coloured eyes of his descending onto your perky breasts.

Great, this was all going well so far. “I’d imagine… do you think he’d gift me a pup? I’ve always wanted a tiny pet, to keep.”

“Yeah?” The lord licked his lips, a hand resting on your waist. “You think you’d handle a wolf properly?”

“Well, I would.” you smiled, nodding in agreement. “I’m a dragon… and dragons do not surrender that easily.”

You smiled, shifting in your seat again as Cregan amusedly indulged you in your silly thoughts. “Just imagine it, my lord. I’d be holding that pup every night trying to get it to warm to me.”

Your hand slowly, but surely, trickled down to his clothed thigh, trying to maintain a sense of quiet intimacy.

“You’ll have your work cut out for you, then.” his voice lowered, bordering on husky. “Wolves aren’t so easily tamed, not even by someone with…”

He paused for a moment, a hand gently taking the one you placed on his thigh.

“…your charms.”

You’d have a cheeky comeback on the tip of your tongue, had it not been for Cregan’s lips descending upon yours, clashing together like Blackwoods and Brackens.

You let out a soft breath as you eased into the kiss, feeling his large hands grip your waists as if his life depended on it.

Your hands moved from his shoulders, to his neck, and then to his armoured chest. The armour he carried felt cold to your hands, yet it made it all the more sinful.

“Did you have this in mind?” you murmured against his lips, tongue circling his as you so sloppily attempted to kiss him. “Seducing me?”

The silence engulfed you two for a moment, only being overshadowed by the sound of soft breaths.

“You have it wrong, princess.” he breathed, firmly planting you upon his lap, your back pressing against his chest. “Do you take me for a halfwit?”

You smiled, looking over your shoulder as you attempted to chase his lips with yours again.

“No, but I certainly did not take you for a man so easily seduced.” you teased, guiding his hands to your clothed breasts. “You don’t seem the type to give in that easily.”

“Because it’s untrue.” he spoke up, lips brushing to against your neck. “But do you honestly think nothing would be done about the way you saunter around, looking as you do?”

His hands slowly tugged against your nightdress, pressing a hard kiss to your achy jaw before pulling away.

“Lay yourself down on the carpet.” he commanded, hands shifting to peel off his fur coat, along with his armour and tunic.

All you could do was nod and watch on as his armour went discarded on the floor, the metal material cranking against the stone ground.

His bare chest was now visible, the defining abs illuminated by the glowing fire. His hair messed up when he threw his tunic over his head.

“Cregan, I-"

And in one moment, you felt his large body overshadow yours, clashing lips again. Cregan lifted his body as to not crush you, hands on either side of your head.

You only permitted yourself to breathe unevenly, stead of moan. Your hands found his shoulders, desiring to pull him closer than possible.

“Ever since you’ve arrived you’d been nothing but trouble.” Cregan murmured, lips finding your throat. “Sauntering around with your ladies, endlessly teasing me.”

Your legs only shifted to wrap around his waist, back slowly arching at the kisses.

He took notice, and let one of his hands pin you down, lips descending towards your perky breasts.

“Gods, you’re wrong for this.” he grunted, swirling his tongue around the nipple. “For provoking me, as you did yesterday, and the day before that.”

“For thinking you have the authority to do this to a lord.” he breathed, your small breast fitting into his large palm.

“For…” he continued, kissing down your stomach, before ultimately glancing back at you “…thinking you’d get away with this.”

“I did not think I’d get away with this.” you tease, watching as he moves face-to-face again. “Which is why I did it.”

Your hands find his muscled arms, squeezing it gently. “I want to know how Northern men do it.”

You’d think you were jesting, but were you truly?

You’d have opened your mouth to say anything else, looking up at him, if it weren’t for the Northern lord himself roughly flipping you to your stomach.

“You wish to know, my princess?” he murmurs, unlatching his breeches. “You’d have your first time be with a Northman?”

You nodded, cheek resting on the carpet fabric without surrender. “Yes. Gods yes.”

He hiked your skirt around your waist, your plump ass visible to his peering eyes.

“You’ll be ruined for other men, aye.” He grunted, his hand wrapping around his rock hard cock.

“That’s good, because I desire no one save you.” you smiled, allowing him to lift your hips up and arch your back.

“Yeah?” he smirked, the tip of his cock rubbing against your damp hole. “You’ll have me make you my wife?”

You nodded, impatiently moving your hips. “I wouldn’t be opposed to it.”

“You’d be a good wife, wouldn’t you?” he grunted once again, head finally pushing into your unloosened clit. “No Southern games, no poignant looks of yours.”

“You like that about me.” you painfully breathed, feeling the uncomfortable ache of his cock in your newly penetrated cunt.

His head descended, placing gentle kisses upon your shoulders. “A maiden. Perhaps you aren’t as well-equipped to handle a wolf as you said you were.”

“I am.” you protested, pushing your hips back. “Move your hips. I wish to prove myself.”

He only speeded up his thrusts, and as you allowed the moans to fill your lips, his hands found a way to push your head down.

“You’d carry my pups?” he asked, thrusting into you aggressively, pumping his cock in and out. “Wait on my cock every night?”

You only moaned incredulously, asscheeks clapping along with every snap of his hips.

“Yes.” you breathed, gasp and claps filling the room. “Fuck, put a babe inside of me. I want your children.”

“We’ll have to wed sooner, before the babe gets born in wedlock.” he grunted, hands gripping your hips, pushing you back onto his thick length. “But that’s what you wanted all along, was it?”

You gripped the fabric of the carpet, cheeks burning as it rubbed against the irritating carpet.

“For a thick cock such as this.” he teased, tugging at your hair.

“Yes.” you moaned pathetically, cheeks flushed as you felt a knot forming into your stomach.

Your lips parted, your eyes rolling above-ways.

“Yes, yes!” you moaned loudly, feeling his hands grope your breasts. “Fuck, you’re moving fast.”

“Never fast enough.” he murmurs, member sliding against your wet slit.

He could feel your tight walls clenching around him, milking his cock for all it is worth. His grip on you tightened as he thrust down to meet your upward motion.

And with one sharp thrusts, you felt the knot loosen and the cream dripping out your twitching clit.

Yet, he didn’t stop, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he rode you through your orgasm.

The feeling of your walls clenching around his cock was enough to send him reeling as well, burying himself deep inside of you.

Hot spurts of cum dripping out of your hole, you completely got yourself spent, closing your eyes and deciding you could just fall asleep on this carpet.

“No sleeping in the library.” he scolded lightly, putting on his fur coat, covering his naked physique. “Come here.”

You exhaustedly crawled over to him again, and snuck yourself into his coat, the clothing covering both of your naked bodies.

“I’m taking you to your chambers.” he sighs, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. “And for the next time, do not attempt to get so exhausted. I went easy on you this time.”

[ireneispunk]

Duty

Jacaerys Velaryon x female reader smut

After a rough start to your marriage, whispers from the palace cause you and your betrothed to start what you should have done months ago; produce an heir.

w.c: 1487

c.w: SMUT 18+, NO use of Y/N, not exactly enemies but y'all beefing, hate sex (if you squint, but more like dislike sex and its more just sass idfk), mention of pregnancy, breeding kink, afab reader, p in v sex, fingering, overstimulation, pls let me know if i've missed any

a.n: so i recently watched the queen charlotte bridgerton spin off and i absolutely loved it, this is very inspired by charlotte and george's earlier dynamic tee hee.

Four months and 3 days. That is how long it has been since your wedding, and how long you have loathed your husband. The two of you were not exactly close before your betrothal on account of the rapidness of it but the tensions that spread between parts of his family did not help. You both seem to fight every conversation you had thereafter, so it became easier to avoid each other. That was until around 3 months into your betrothal that questions of when you would need your dresses altering had you worried. You were supposed to making heirs but you both exploded whilst in the same room as each other.  You’d visited the prince in his separate room and communicated the issue, he was reading by the fire. You played with your fingers in your hands as he eyed the flaw, thinking intently. He placed his book face down on the table as he petted the bench beside him. You hesitated for a moment, before sitting next to him. “Once a week, we will fulfil our, uh, duty to try and produce an heir. Once you are with child we will stop.” You thought for a moment, before nodding. You couldn’t help but feel your heart sink. This was not what you had wished for in your marriage. Jacaerys was a painfully handsome man, dark curls that framed he chiselled features.

“It is the end of the week today, your grace.” You spoke, not fully considering the implications of the statement. But the quicker your belly was full the better.

He turned to you, hesitated for a moment before moving closer to you and pulled you onto his lap. You were surprised by the sudden closeness of someone, let alone your husband. He looked up from beneath you with a glimmer of what he had on your wedding night, without the naïve hope. His hands slid up from your hips to the bust of your dress, he looked into your eyes before giving the bodice of your dress a quick tug down allowing your breast to spill out. You gasped as his hands cupped over your breasts, massaging them before running a thumb over your nipple. You brought your bottom lip between your teeth as you felt a warmth spread over your body. You didn’t dare look him in the eye, keeping your eyes shut or trained on the ceiling. You felt as one hand left your breast and hike up your dress further up your hips. He sighed to himself slightly, at the sight of your exposed cunt. He could not believe his luck the first time he had saw you. You were quite possibly the most beautiful woman he had ever seen and unfortunately that did not change the more you both disliked each other. If anything, it grew. Seeing you from across the room at formal engagements, gluing to his side when you needed to seem like the happy couple. It made the frustrations between the two of you even more palpable over the past few months, given the lack of relief. You opened your eyes to see his dark eyes looking up at you. He brought his two first fingers up to your lips, “Open.” His soft tone contradicted the demand and look upon his face. His fingers slid into your mouth, gliding across your tongue as you closed your lips around them. Out of sheer lust you grinded your hips against him, needing to feel some release and gaining small jolt at the feeling of your cunt rubbing against his clothed cock. His free hand shot to your waist, fingers digging into the soft flesh. He removed his fingers from your mouth, admiring his spit covered fingers for a moment before they reached between your thighs and lightly grazed across your clit. You jolted, leaning forward to grip the bench behind him.

You could not stop the moan that escaped your mouth as his fingers slowly ran circles across your clit. He smirked as the noises that fell from your lips, knowing how much you couldn’t bare to be around him but fell apart in his arms was a satisfying feeling.  “I did not know you were so needy, dear wife.” The honorific felt like a pin prick. Insincere and laced with sarcasm.

Despite the tightening growing in your stomach, you could not let him have the final word as usual. “You hadn’t been paying close enough attention, your grace.” A flash of frustration flashed upon his face as his hand moved to grip your hair and fingers plunged inside of you. A gasp left you as his fingers thrusted deep inside of your cunt, you had gone from strolling towards an orgasm to being thrown at it. The tips of his fingers curled slightly, deliciously massaging that spot inside your pussy that drove you wild. You jaw fell open, eyes going wide at the loss of contact when he removed his fingers from you. You went to protest before seeing his cock in his hands, brows furrowed as he stroked the length.

You couldn’t hold off any longer before you took a hold of his wrists and pushed his hands away to his sides. You took his cock into your hand giving it a few pumps, watching an expression of lust spread across his face. You leaned over slightly, letting a ball of spit leave your lips and watch as it slid down his cock. He hissed, returning his hands to your hips pulling you closer to him. You took the hint, angling his cock towards your pussy, rubbing the tip over your clit for your own pleasure a few times, before lining him up and sliding down slowly, a large groan left his lips as be bottomed out inside of you. You had forgotten just how big his cock was, and just how good it had felt filling you up. You began to raise your hips up and down, moans leaving your lips as you did. You worked at a steady pace but after being accustomed to his hands began to push up and down with the movements of your hips moving you faster. Your fingernails dug into his shoulders as he pounded into you, no matter how much your stifled your moans, you gave him the satisfaction of them loudly leaving your lips. His hand reached up to yours, removing it from his shoulders and moving your fingers between your legs. You immediately got his instruction, fingers latching onto your clit. You worked tight circles into it as you got filled over and over with Jacaerys’ cock. A familiar tightness returned to your stomach as your head dropped back and numerous illicit words left your lips. Recognising your peak, he pulled you forward by your thighs, almost pressing your bodies against each other as he quickened his pace. Your orgasm cascaded over you, feeling your pussy tighten around Jacaerys’ cock and your body buzz from the overstimulation. You rode out your high atop of him, watching as his eyes screwed shut and his thrusts became sloppier.

You took the opportunity to return your knees to the bench either side of him and bob your hips up and down as fast as you could. His fingers reached the lip of the bench gripping it until his knuckles turned white. “Mmm, my grace,” You moaned out. His eyes shot open, his heart pounding at your remark. “Please fill me with your seed.” You pleaded and moaned, half doing it for a reaction, half because it felt too good. His jaw hung open in shock for a split second before he sputtered a moan from his lips, hips snapping into yours. You felt satisfied as a warmth filled your pussy. Your hips moved slightly, slowly thrusting his cock inside of you still. His hand shot to your hip, mumbling something, before you placed your hand flat across his chest. You bobbed a few more times on his cock, being sure to be as full as possible with his cum. You smirked to yourself seeing his head throne back, lip quivering, veins prominent in his hands gripping your waist, sweaty curls sticking to his neck. You slowly raised yourself off of his cock, standing to your feet and trying to mask your wobbliness as adjusting your dress.

You stole a glance his way, admiring his beauty before he spoke and ruined it. He panted through his mouth, arms outstretched over the sides of the bench. You smirked to yourself, admiring how he too had crumbled for you. The opening of his doorhandle caused him to call your name from behind you. You glanced at him and smiled. “Goodnight your grace, see you in seven eves’.” He opened his mouth to response, but you had already shut the door behind you. You hoped it would be sooner before he fucked you again.

[swordgrace]

𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋 𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋 𝐎𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒’ 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒.

⠀ཾ༵ 𑁍┆ jacaerys velaryon x female betrothed reader.

SYNOPSIS: jacaerys is reminded of his betrothed’s unwavering loyalty, and her affections. he is more than desperate to indulge.

note: jacaerys is nineteen, reader is eighteen.

format: one-shot — not requested.

word count: 5.8K.

warnings: SMUTTY SMUT (mdni), porn with little plot, risk of getting caught (dragonstone library), talk of insecurities, jacaerys is needy and sweet in this, oral sex (fem!rec), cunnilingus, handjob, lots of jace moans in this fic, brief dry humping, wet/rain jacaerys, table sex, making out, hair-pulling kink, unprotected sex, p in v sex, jace & reader have only been with one another, soft ending + aftercare

author’s note: I know that this isn’t What Honor Demands (please don’t be mad) but I did want to put a sprinkle of Jace content out there for you all! please be kind to one another, and thank you for reading & supporting my work! I love you all dearly! :))

𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐬, 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐧. 𝐓𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐬, 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐭.

Dragonstone’s hallowed hallways and winding corridors were scattered with the occasional Kingsguard, watchful gaze hovering about as you went on your way. Sleep eluded you, reclusive as ever, leaving you with nothing but a mind full of ceaseless thoughts.

Groggy footfalls fell across ancient stone as you carried yourself toward the library within the labyrinth of Dragonstone, in-search of your betrothed.

Pensive and frustrated as of-late, Jacaerys spent much of his evenings surrounded by endless piles of literature to preoccupy his mind, or nights spent on the back of Vermax beneath the open air. You did not begrudge him of his desire for space, but you sorely missed his presence — your bed felt exceedingly empty.

A silent yawn wrought your lips as you slipped between massive slabs of dark wood, the groaning of the doors reverberating throughout the cavernous alcove. Thunder shook the skies around Dragonstone, and with it, a torrent of rainfall that smacked against the dark stone surrounding the island.

It was there in the library that you saw Jacaerys, tousled curls slicked by the deluge, framing his face in such a princely manner that it stole your breath away. Your humble beginnings as a mere young maiden sworn to wed the heir to the Iron Throne had blossomed, flourishing into a loving relationship between yourself and the Prince.

All men that you had glanced upon paled in comparison to Jacaerys Velaryon, whose features were framed in such a regal light. The illumination of the hearth set his flesh ablaze with a burnished gold, brows creased in concentration as he leaned over a thick, dilapidated volume.

Prying his gaze away from dust-laden parchment, his eyes found you, his betrothed, captivating in your silken slip and woolen robe. His throat bobbed as he swallowed the sudden onslaught of nerves in your presence, an involuntary yet consistent response.

You treated him to a kindly smile, warm enough to soothe his shivering bones, doublet soaked from riding in the deluge. Part of him was stung with guilt for abandoning you each night to sulk in sullen silence, but he did not want to burden you with his feelings of inferiority.

Amber hues seemed transfixed upon you, taking in your ethereal sight, silks the color of Lady’s Lace, robe embossed with cerulean stitching. Your tresses were somewhat disheveled from rest, disagreeing with the pillows.

Abandoning his mindless studies, he sat straighter, shoulders squared as if to fill in the fullness of his height. You approached, aura gentle and thoughtful, as if you could pinpoint the source of his misfortune. “Is everything alright?” Jacaerys inquired, perplexed as to why you were out of bed so dreadfully late.

“It is,” A dismal yawn slipped through your teeth as you came to stand near him, circling around the stone table, noticeably lower in stature. “I fear that the raging weather has left me unable to find sleep.” You were from a place where such furious storms were uncommon.

As if he were to blame for this happenstance, Jacaerys appeared apologetic, fingers clenching together. “You have my apologies, my Lady. I hadn’t expected this deluge to carry on this late into the night.” With a begrudging sigh, he peered toward the stained glass windows littered throughout the library.

An amiable burst of laughter tore forth from your lips, head canting to one side as you rounded the table, gaze picking apart the various texts and heaps of parchment that lined the stone. “You’ve nothing to apologize for, Jacaerys. It seems you’ve taken advantage of the opportunity.” You gestured to his state of dishevel.

“Like yourself, sleep evaded me. I needed to find some reprieve; a thunderstorm seemed better than nothing.” His reply seemed strained with underlying frustration, as if the chord would snap within him at any given moment.

Your velveteen digits graced his shoulder, caressing circles into the muscle there, even if it were concealed by the thick wool of his doublet. Even if he did not speak it into existence, your comforting embrace brought him a semblance of warmth that little else could provide.

Drowning himself in reading now seemed incomprehensible, paling in comparison to the mere grace of your presence. “You seem very hard at work,” You chimed, lowering yourself into the high-backed chair to his left. “The subject of your studies?”

Jacaerys didn’t smile, yet the tension in his shoulders began to unfurl, as if your very presence willed him to do so. Nimble digits flipped through a page or two, the parchment worn and thin from many decades of dormancy and little use. “Targaryen bloodlines.”

There was some discomforting twinge within his tone, as if the very notion brought about complex feelings. It was his idea to invite Dragonseeds into their home, yet he hadn’t fully realized what harm it had caused to his claim. This vexation had developed into a thorn in his side, tearing open a wound that he thought he’d healed from.

He had dealt with the uncomfortable truth of his bastard heritage all his life — and now, he was made to confront it, see it in its unpleasantness. Even the unconditional love of his mother could not shield him from the vile insults, from the crass tongues of those who saw him for what he was — the bastard.

Your countenance wavered, empathy sinking into your gaze, brows softening as you folded your hands within your lap. Jacaerys had never fully confided in you the plain truth of his bloodline, but you had an inkling of his heritage — that hadn’t changed how you felt.

Wordlessly, you reached for his hand, and it was Jacaerys that brought your interwoven fingers to rest atop your knee. He did not need to vocalize it — he knew that you knew. Part of him was grateful that you never questioned it, or him.

“Understand that I will fight with you — fight for you. No amount of blood or worthiness shall change that.” You assured, collected and tender as you traced your thumb across his knuckles. They were disarmingly soft, pad of your finger brushing over the veins in his hand.

Jacaerys exhaled, sinking backward into the bite of the wooden chair, dark brows furrowing together. “It seems as if you are the only one that will.” His confession was a heavy-handed one, filled with an immeasurable melancholy that you wished you could rip away.

It was all that consumed him as of-late — his claim to the Iron Throne, the lack of reassurance from his mother, who seemed to drown herself in prophecy and history instead of his defense. Jacaerys felt as if he were adrift, alone in the black sea, threatened to be pulled beneath the tempestuous tides.

The touch of your hand was what kept him anchored, still bound to this reality, to the inevitability of war. Soon, he would face the Greens in the battlefield — and what then, if the war was won? His mother would sit the Iron Throne, and who would succeed her?

His half-brothers had all the hallmarks of a true Targaryen — violet irises, pale tresses, dragon eggs placed in their cradles. Who would follow him? Plain-featured, dark hair, amber-flecked hues that bore a striking resemblance to the former Commander of the City Watch.

With a sullen heart, Jacaerys glanced at you, his beloved, your countenance bathed in the waning glow of the firelight. An ardent fondness reached your stare, keeping his hand rooted against your knee. He idly plucked at the ivory silk of your shift, chest blossoming with a trembling exhale.

“You must forgive me for my absence as of-late,” Jacaerys felt as if he owed you an apology. For nearly a fortnight, he had kept you at arm’s length, for fear that he would tarnish your bond with his intrepid mind and distressed musings. “I haven’t intended to distance myself from you.”

“Jacaerys,” With a gentle hum, you brought your other palm beneath his, cradling his hand between your own, his flesh icy compared to your magnetizing warmth. “I know what burden you bear, and I know how distraught you’ve been. I cannot fault you for wanting space.” Even then, he felt as if that wouldn’t suffice.

“My misfortune is not an excuse to leave my betrothed unattended,” Resolute, he looked at you with such arduous devotion, one reserved only for a paramour. “Whatever burden I bear, I wish to endure it by your side, or not at all.” Whatever he did to deserve you, he was quite uncertain.

Betrothals were not easy to navigate — when he first found himself speaking to you, he feared the crushing weight of disappointment or a loveless match, something only formed from duty. He was pleasantly surprised by your willingness to discover the soul that rested beneath titles and propriety.

Another smile crossed your features, and it stayed this time, his heart galloping within his chest at your resplendent beauty.

There was a kindness that touched your gaze, one that he was unaccustomed to. He was often looked upon by strangers with indifference or contempt, and those who questioned his bloodline only glowered with vitriol and a thinly-veiled bitterness.

“Allow me to share in your sorrows with you,” At your insistence, Jacaerys did not make any attempt to protest the subject of your words — he knew that you wouldn’t allow it. “Whatever obstacles come hurling your way, know that we can brave it together, not apart.”

A lighter sentiment touched his features, then. He was no longer marred by frustration and helplessness, but newfound confidence. It was subtle, but you could see it reach his eyes, amber hues that danced with such an intense affection for you.

“As long as you permit me to assist in whatever tribulations you might face yourself,” It wouldn’t have been justified to make you wade through his obstacles without fighting your own hand-in-hand. “You are my betrothed. I should hope you will always rely upon me.” With a reassuring squeeze, you smiled at him.

“Rely upon one another, and let out hearts beat as one,” A tenderness gripped the tone of your resonance, as silky as the very gown you wore. “Until our last days or the end of our story.” The finality of your words filled him with an indescribable sense of optimism and hope.

Jacaerys adjusted his hand, but only to lift yours to his lips, gracing your velvet knuckles with his plush lips, eyelashes fluttering in your direction. Youthful eagerness and crackling ardor took over — he stared at you with a renewed compassion.

The sight of you in your evening slip made his heart pound against his ribcage, as if it had dropped right into his stomach. Sometimes he behaved as if he hadn’t touched you before — as if this were the first time all over again. “You continue to bewitch me,” Jacaerys murmured, canting his head to one side. “I love you for it.”

A smattering of heat blossomed across your features, the familiar warmth crawling down the length of your spine, resulting in a subtle shiver. “I wasn’t aware,” You mused, a certain flair within your voice that subtly invoked more than just romanticism and sweet words. “Is that a constant feeling?”

Swallowing the lump of boyish nerves that gathered within his throat, Jacaerys regarded you with a rather incendiary warmth, his gaze that of an unrestrained lover. “It is rather persistent,” Excitement began to stir within the pit of his stomach. “Especially now.”

Seven Hells, you deserved to be put to the lash for the lascivious thoughts you had.

It was as if the atmosphere had shifted entirely, from one of two youths navigating their troubles, to the first inklings of shared desire and appreciation. You hadn’t expected the suddenness of this shift, but you welcomed it regardless, belly stirring with butterflies.

Digits tightened into your silken skirts, in a valiant attempt to relieve some of the anticipation you were experiencing. Your intimate relationship with Jacaerys had always been in the sanctity of your bedchambers — achingly sweet and exploratory, but now, it had some element of thrill to it, especially if you opted to act.

Admittedly, the sight of him disheveled and dampened from the raging deluge had roused a familiar fire within your loins, producing a hint of slick between your thighs. Acting on impulse here, in the library of all places, broke all bonds of propriety — but neither of you paid it any mind.

Leaning forward within his seat, Jacaerys wordlessly beseeched you for a kiss, soft mouth inviting as ever, lips flushed and rosy. Without hesitation, you moved to meet him halfway, lost within the throes of your gentle entanglement. He was always gentle — that would never change, no matter his demeanor.

With all the tenderness of a gallant lover, Jacaerys ensured that he savored your kiss, eyelids fluttering shut as he reached to smooth his palm across your thigh. He shivered at the sensation, able to feel the outline of your pliant curves through the obscenely-thin silks.

He smelled of damp petrichor and old books, laden with dust, as if he’d spent all of his days rotting away within the depths of rain-soaked parchment. Your conjoined hands wove together, and you guided him until both of his palms planted themselves atop your thighs, sinking into their plushness.

Once the fire was stoked, it was difficult to smother it.

“Here?” Your shrewd voice interrupted his string of salacious fantasies, none of them pious enough to confess to. Jacaerys felt embarrassed for what he thought, for what he intended to do — perhaps he would seek absolution on the morrow.

“It is an ungodly hour,” Jacaerys reassured you, but in your defense, part of him feared the potentiality of being caught. “I don’t suspect anyone would come searching.” His suggestion was open-ended, but he did offer you an out, soothingly caressing along your legs. “Would you prefer if we retired to our chambers?”

Some sharp pang of exhilaration stoked the fire within your belly — coupling here filled you with the unfamiliar thrill of trying something daring. Instead of answering verbally, you resorted to action, rising from your rickety chair to toss one leg over his hips, sinking yourself down into the firmness of his lap.

Jacaerys’s expression was one of complete and utter bewilderment, but of the best sort — he was ensnared, simply put. A scarlet flush rose to his features, painting his visage with a bright-red shade. His breath audibly hitched within his throat, palms settling against the swell of your hips.

“It is the hour of the bat,” You agreed, heart hammering erratically beneath your breast, until you could bear it no longer. “Let that be our shield.” Once the words had escaped you in a breathy exhale, Jacaerys captured your mouth in an explosive kiss.

His passion would never be mistaken for roughness — your betrothed was as kindly and spirited as they came; you collapsed beneath his tender hand. Those dexterous fingers of his kneaded into your waist, traveling along your curves, longing to feel your naked flesh without obstruction.

A low groan blossomed within his chest when your digits flew to the nape of his neck, threading themselves into his soaked tresses. He was painfully handsome like this, damp from the rain, gaze full of ardor and silently pleading for your touch, hands wandering anywhere and everywhere.

Gathering your skirts as politely as he could, Jacaerys inched the fabric up along your legs, shivering in delight at the sight of your exposed skin. One would think he’d never glimpsed a woman before, the way he reacted whenever he saw you.

The soft pads of his fingertips glided along your bare thigh, allowing the silk of your shift to gather around your hips. His growing erection helplessly strained at the front of his breeches, and the desperate ache was only furthered when you ground yourself into him.

A gasp was shared between you both, skin becoming unbearably warm as you rocked your hips into him, finding your unholy friction. It only became increasingly heated, knowing that you wore nothing beneath your nightgown, and Jacaerys let out a wanton groan when you moved against him.

“Jacaerys,” Breathless and drunk upon desire, you felt his mouth seek yours again, coaxing you in for another kiss. There was desperation laced within his actions, finding his solace in the endless map of your lips, committing every detail to memory. “Touch me.”

Bringing his palm to your chest, Jacaerys needed no instruction when it came to caressing your breast, thumb rolling over your peaking nipple through thin silk. You were the first girl he’d laid with — if the Gods were kind, you would be the last.

Unexpectedly, your satiny lips found the column of his throat, pressing a string of appreciative kisses there as he kneaded your chest. A sweet, keening groan escaped him, abashed at your embrace. Between the ministrations of your fingers in his tresses and mouth on his neck, he feared oblivion.

A sharp clap of thunder shook the skies, yet it did not perturb either of you, ceaselessly carrying on in your needy coupling. One of your palms drifted to his chest, gripping at the embroidered velvet, pushing his collar aside to kiss his neck.

His digits tightened at the material bunched around your hips, eyes fluttering shut in a state of bliss, toying with your nipple as it pebbled beneath his touch. Jacaerys’s mouth watered involuntarily at the thought of tasting you, which he hoped would come soon, if you permitted him to do so.

You enjoyed his softness, his throat quivering beneath your lips, offering his subservience to you freely. A breathy grunt of your name cascaded from his mouth, prompting you to shiver within his embrace. Gods, that sound — it would be emblazoned in your mind for days to come.

With a gentle shrug of your shoulders, you let the woolen robe glide from your body, pooling on the cool stone below. Another downward brush of your hips sent the both of you reeling, clothed bulge grinding against your needy core, prompting you to shudder.

Jacaerys turned, bringing his soft lips back to yours, seizing your mouth in a blazing kiss. He continued to palm at your breast, cupping the pliant mound within his hand, evoking another whimper from you. Neediness took root, firmly planting itself within his stomach.

“Might I taste you?” He breathed against your lips, giving you pause as you regarded him with a simmering adoration. Jacaerys had done it once before, and he often thought of it in private moments, or sometimes recklessly at supper or during small council meetings.

Sheepishly, your head bobbed up and down in a lackadaisical nod, unable to mask your excitement at such a proposal. Wordlessly, he coaxed you up from his lap, nearly groaning at the loss of friction, though he suspected there would be ample opportunities for more later that night.

Using the table as a brace, you watched as your betrothed knelt before you, like a sinner coming to confess within the boughs of a sept; his confession whispered between your legs. Your woolen robe served as a suitable cushion beneath his knees, and he happened to unclasp his own cloak.

Peering at you through thick eyelashes, Jacaerys gingerly guided the silken slip up along your legs, watching with rapturous interest as you let it gather at your hips. He kissed his way up the length of your leg, letting them drape on either side of his shoulders.

Your hand came to rest against his crown of dampened curls, a shudder rolling down his spine at the sensation of your fingers gripping his tresses. Inhaling a gust of your saccharine scent, Jacaerys kissed his way to the gathering slick between your thighs, palms smoothing themselves against your legs.

A heat so feverish that it nearly destroyed you, his tongue raked hot embers over your cunt, tracing along the length of your slit before dipping between your folds. A gasp tore past your mouth; ecstasy beyond comprehension, gnawing away at your bones.

Jacaerys dutifully lapped at your core, nose brushing against your mound, tongue dancing from the pearl of your cunt to your entrance, his movements repetitive. A sigh of delight floated into the air, your pleasure made known as you lightly tugged on his tresses.

Soft, pleading moans reverberated throughout the library, and you were lost within the labyrinth of his affections. Your hips involuntarily jerked and jolted forward, rocking down into his mouth, evoking a throaty groan from your betrothed.

His name floated from your mouth like a prayer, reverent and gasping, as if it were the only word you knew. Your mind was foggy with the haze of desire, one that you found yourself caught within. A string of crass sounds emanated from below; soft, needy lips hungrily kissing along your cunt.

Steeped within your slit, the taste of you ambrosial, Jacaerys continued his ministrations, tongue flicking along your core, making a sluggish ascent toward your clit. Soft palms caressed your thighs, thumbs drawing patterns into your satiny flesh.

Even the finest of stouts could not contest your sweetness, arousal thick upon his tongue, like the nectar of an unfurling flower. Jacaerys’s mouth lapped along your cunt, until he found the clutch of nerves at the hood of your slit.

His eagerness was palpable through each flick of his tongue, lost within the oasis between your legs. A myriad of soft whimpers and whines escaped you, hand gingerly tugging on Jace’s hair as he showered your cunt in an alternation of steady licks to lingering ones.

Deliberately, he stoked the fire churning within your belly, teasing your pearl with feather-light kisses and circles of his tongue. A strained moan escaped you, prompting you to fist at his tresses, burying your digits within rain-slicked curls, involuntarily bringing him closer into the warm apex of your thighs.

Bathed in the sienna embers that crackled from the hearth, Jace appeared more handsome than ever, completely and utterly captivating. If it were up to him, he would’ve been content to stay here forever, pleasure you over and over again until you collapsed.

The short, dizzying gasp that tore past your mouth spurred him on, as he pressed another string of kisses against your slit. The continued sensation of your digits carding through his curls made him sigh with elation.

Again, he traveled to your pearl again, gently suckling upon the bundle of fiery nerves. Your poor thighs rattled on either side of his head, twitching with throes of ecstasy as he toyed with your clit.

“Jace,” Seven Hells, you sounded so divine. Through parted lips and wanton moans, you sighed his name, wanting him to continue exactly as he was. He could feel the pleading resonance within your sweet tone, bringing him to heel. “Gods, don’t stop!”

Jacaerys felt another groan stir within his chest, one that seemed caught within the bottom of his throat. He allowed himself a brief respite to catch his breath, peering at you from between your legs. “There?” He’d asked, watching your head ecstatically bob up and down.

A short, sporadic huff left you, followed by a string of incoherent pleas. “Y—Yes!” Your whine was somewhat shy, the vibrato of it quieting down, as if you suddenly feared becoming caught in the act. “Jacaerys, please!” You begged, and who was he to deny you?

Pursing his lips around your pearl, he gingerly suckled on the sensitive bud, drawing forth an unholy myriad of moans and whines from your mouth. Such sounds left their brand upon him, a shiver cascading down his spine as he pleasured you.

The incessant throbbing of his cock within his breeches made his yearning grow tenfold, feeling it strain against the woolen cloth. He continued to suck at your clit with a palpable gentleness, noticing the way in which your body quivered and writhed from pleasure.

Jacaerys alternated between the greedy suckling of your pearl and broad laps of his tongue, lulled into submission by the crescendo of your moans. You brazenly tugged at his damp curls, other hand snug against the wet fabric of his doublet.

Bliss and pleasure wracked themselves across your body, bringing with it a fire so great that it demanded to be extinguished. Jacaerys’s mouth was wonderful in every way imaginable, his pouty lips dancing wherever they pleased across your aching cunt.

Your hand skirted backwards, accidentally knocking over a stack of books, rolls of parchment fluttering to the stone floor below. With a needy desire to chase after your release, you rocked your hips forward, evoking a strangled groan from your betrothed.

He could feel the arousal mounting within his own body, and the constant quivering of your legs as he brought you closer to your release. Jacaerys continued to caress along your legs, from thigh to calf, mouth happily buried within the warm apex between your legs.

That sensation of your digits brushing across his scalp made him shiver, tongue delicately flicking from your entrance to swollen pearl before he began to suck on it again. Such noises would make a septa flush from their crassness, causing his belly to swirl with fire.

“Jace — Oh! Jace, Jace!” Abandoning the use of his true name, you sang his moniker to the high Heavens, feeling your release come swiftly, an incendiary wave of heat that threatened to consume you completely. You moaned, hips stuttering as you let bliss take over you.

Jacaerys caught the onslaught of your nectar, consuming every drop that you gave him with a neediness, cock twitching within his trousers. He cleaned you up with soft, short laps of his tongue, feeling you everywhere — burned into his mind, permeating his lips.

With a shaky exhale, you felt his head leave your legs, and your grip fell away, watching as he stood to find his place against you. “Such sweet torment,” Jacaerys murmured, nudging his forehead against yours. “You bring me to ruin.” He sighed, feeling your fingers move to the front of his doublet.

“I should be the one saying that,” Your laughter was brief and fleeting, a smitten smile tugging at either corner of your mouth. “Gods, you are so wonderful — so handsome, so perfect.” The sound of your resplendent praise made Jacaerys flush, wide-eyed and wanton.

His newfound closeness, standing in between your legs, allowed for your palms to cup his face, thumbs stroking along his cheekbones. “I need you,” Jacaerys confessed, his timbre husky, throaty with desire as he nearly pleaded with you. “If you’ll let me — please.”

Wordlessly, your hands flew to the front of his breeches, brushing against his clothed erection. Jacaerys groaned, countenance one of desperation as you untied the laces, freeing his cock from its confines.

You stroked along his length, causing him to shiver, cock warm and aching within your delicate grasp. Jace buried his face near your shoulder, brows furrowing together as you treated him to the soft embrace of your hand.

Dragging your palm along his cock, his hips involuntarily rocked forward, galloping after the friction. You felt his mouth plant strings of hasty kisses all along your shoulder, toward the dip of your neck, and then against your throat.

Gently guiding yourself backwards, various objects clattered against the stone table, a book being pushed off of the edge as Jacaerys moved forward. The tip of his flushed cock glided through your slick folds, prompting the both of you to sigh together.

“May I?” Jacaerys huffed, wide-eyed and completely and utterly flustered, so trapped within his own desire that it nearly rendered him speechless. With a quick bob of your head, he rocked forward, groaning in delight as your tight cunt throbbed around his aching member.

Using one palm to brace yourself against the table, your other arm flew to drape around his neck, mouths breathlessly clamoring together, seeking one another. You kissed him, doing little to mask your rapturous hunger as he sank forward, cock nearly kissing your womb.

A tempestuous clap of thunder made you jump, goosebumps cascading down your spine as an onslaught of rain ripped against the stone surrounding the library. The sight of his disheveled tresses and unbuttoned tunic made you unbearably hot, lips torn apart as soft, pleading whines escaped you.

One arm caged itself around you, his palm stroking at the curve near your ribcage, the other lifting your leg to hitch it around his hips. Jacaerys had not an ounce of desire to become rough with you — invigorated, perhaps, but he fully intended on savoring you.

His initial thrusts were somewhat sporadic and awkward, the follies of inexperienced youth, but he soon found his pace, cock gently gliding in and out of your cunt. Wanton sighs escaped his plump lips, brows creased in concentration as his head neared yours.

A soft groan resonated beside your ear as Jace adopted a sluggish rhythm, not wanting to intensify things too quickly. Your eyes fluttered shut, body content to bend to his thrusts, grow accustomed to his pace. He reciprocated your kiss, black curls falling in front of his temples.

There was something endearing about his slight clumsiness, the way in which his hand occasionally fumbled around your body. With time, he suspected that he would know you quite well — physique included. His digits kneaded into your leg, tracing from knee to haunch, holding you close.

The intermingled sounds of your desperate lovemaking soon floated into the air, a myriad of moans and sharp exhales; sighs of a deeply devoted passion. Your fingers raked across the nape of his neck, finding their purchase within his tousled curls.

He groaned your name, the sound only a lover could make, his eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment. Gods, he wouldn’t last long like this. Jacaerys felt your knee squeeze his waist, your other leg draped off of the table, legs spread apart for him.

The silk of your nightgown pushed toward your stomach, loins exposed to the brush of cooler air. “Jace,” You moaned, pressing a string of quick, rushed kisses all along his jaw, evoking another groan from between his lips. Your cunt clenched around his cock, drowning in the pleasure. “Jace!”

His pace was leisurely, yet twinged with desperation, as if he were burning with a longing to be close to you. His cock pulsed inside of you, throat blossoming with another throaty groan. Before you could whimper, he involuntarily smothered it with a kiss.

Each rock of his hips was intended to be disarmingly gentle, ensuring that every inch of his length bottomed out inside of you. Your stomach swirled with molten heat, coagulating as slick arousal as you felt it collect between your legs.

Every worry that had permeated his careworn mind was pushed to the recesses, something to be abandoned in the wake of your presence. His need for you, his love — it outweighed everything else. Whenever you kissed him, he could feel your ardor seep into his bones, consuming him to his very core.

Jacaerys’s breath became labored, another groan threatening to burst from his chest as his cock throbbed with an incessant pleasure. His muscles tightened, feeling your other leg move up to wrap around his hips altogether, drawing him into the warmth of your embrace.

Your arm lowered, and your back finally flattered entirely against the stone table, amidst parchment and tomes, dust-laden volumes that framed your head. The lick of firelight bathed you in an ethereal glow, stealing away Jace’s resolve.

He rocked into you, thrusts becoming a touch quicker in-spite of his encroaching release. Jacaerys covered you with his body, dark curls framing his countenance; a curtain of concentration. He moved to grab your hands, fingers twining together as he kissed you.

Gods, you were perfect — it was all he could think about, your grace and poise, your captivating beauty as he thrust his cock in and out of you, visage rosy and flushed. With another rock of his hips, length buried deep within you like a sword within a sheath, he shuddered.

His release felt overwhelming, a hot tidal wave that caused the tension in his stomach to unfurl completely. Hot ropes of his spend found its place within your womb, causing you to groan. Jacaerys rocked forward, gentle as could be, filling you with his seed.

With his composure in dire need of repair, he took a moment to catch his breath, lips curling into a smile. He could not mask his happiness in the wake of your tryst, moving off of you with a brief exhale.

“Are you alright?” Jacaerys’s warm timbre blanketed you immediately, and he went about correcting his trousers before attending to you. He adjusted your slip, assisting you in tugging it back into place until you seemed somewhat less disheveled.

“Of course,” Your own smile was demure, sheepish as you smoothed your palms across your silken sleeves. “And you?” With a gentle hum, you stepped forward to fasten the many silvery clasps of his doublet, noticing the flush of scarlet that had settled into his cheeks.

“Perfect,” Through thick eyelashes, Jacaerys gazed down at you with such adoration that you could drown in it. He held your waist, thumb drawing circles into your ribcage. “I wanted to thank you for ensuring my wellbeing. It is I that should be attending to you.”

With a brief shake of your head, you brought your palms to his chest, brows knitting together. “We are betrothed, Jacaerys. We can attend to one another,” You insisted, leaning up upon your toes to plant a kiss against his jaw. “We will do plenty of that once we are wed.”

Jacaerys’s countenance softened, and his muscles still burned from the exhilaration of your coupling. He looked toward the state of the table — parchment on the floor, scrolls scattered everywhere. “I love you.” He said through a thin smile, gracing the crown of your head with a kiss.

“I love you,” You assured, following the line of his gaze towards the disarrayed table. “Though, we should clean all of this up. What will Maester Gerardys say if he finds the library in this state?” You mused, a twinkling of mirth settling within your gaze.

“We could say that we were hard at work,” Jacaerys crooned, playful as could be as he retrieved your robe, bringing it over your shoulders before he scooped you up within his arms. “Studying.”

“Oh,” A gasp of surprise left you, but joy and happiness were soon to follow as he held you, forehead pressing against yours. “Are you saying that we should study more often?” You mumbled, and that caused Jacaerys to blush again, features unbelievably heated.

“At your earliest convenience.”

[maysileeewrites]

GUILTY AS SIN?

Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!Targ!reader || 18+; MDNI!

Synopsis: Jacaerys hadn’t meant to watch you. He hadn’t meant to interfere, either. Yet here he is, on his knees in front of you, finally claiming what’s his - honor and propriety be damned. 

c.w.: smutty smut!! (fem masturbation + Jace watching reader without her knowing it at first, so some  slight dubcon elements?; piv sex, unprotected sex, implied loss of virginity, oral (f! receiving), hair-pulling, mild breeding kink, mild praise kink, soft!dom Jace) Targcest - Jace and reader are cousins (&that’s the closest degree of incest I’ll write); infidelity 

word count: 4.2k (oops??) || Jacaerys masterlist

AN: I really don’t know what came over me, this really is just filth with barely any plot, someone please get me some holy water so I can cleanse my mind from these thoughts … Also, I love Baela, but for the prospect of some forbidden love, we’re gonna have to go behind her back here. 

Jacaerys hadn’t meant to watch you. 

Truly, his only intention in coming to your chambers had been to check up on you, seeing as you’d been so unusually quiet and withdrawn during dinner. 

He wasn’t prepared for what awaited him when he cautiously opened your door after you hadn’t answered either or his tentative knocks. 

The sight before him had him frozen in shock, rooted to the spot. 

You - stretched out on your bed, wearing nothing but your thin nightdress that had already slipped away in some places, revealing your breasts as well as the soft skin of your upper thighs - and your swollen core, already leaking slick. 

Jacaerys couldn’t help himself - he stood, transfixed, watching as your back arched off the bed, your fingers desperately moving in and out of your cunt. 

He shouldn’t watch. He should go, now. 

This was wrong on so many levels, he tried to remind himself. 

But he couldn’t bring himself to do anything but watch, mesmerized, as your fingers moved in and out of your core in a desperate pace. Greedily, he took in every breathy little moan, every squelching sound your cunt made. 

This was wrong, so wrong. 

This was a private moment he’d never been meant to witness, and oh - there was also the small problem of you being his fiancee’s sister. 

He should go, now. 

Your eyes were closed, so you hadn’t seen him yet, but still, he couldn’t bring himself to move. 

It’s what he should have done, what he should still do, but he can’t bring himself to look away from you. 

Jacaerys doesn’t know how long he’s been standing here, watching in a desperate, heady fascination as you desperately try to bring yourself to satisfaction. 

He knows that it’s wrong, that he shouldn’t be watching you, should have turned around the second he saw what you were doing, but he doesn’t care. 

Honor and propriety be damned, he thinks as he runs a hand through his dark curls in distress, feeling his breeches growing tighter by the second. 

Just then, you moan, loudly and desperately. 

„Jacaerys.“ 

Jacaerys’ eyes widen in shock, and he can’t help himself, he steps even closer towards your bed. 

Again, you moan his name, your face screwing up in pleasure. 

He feels his heart beating faster, his breath becoming more and more erratic. 

Your movements have become even more desperate, you’re rocking back and forth on your bed, your fingers desperately trying to chase your high. 

The only sounds filling the room are your whiny, desperate moans and the squelching sounds your cunt makes. 

Jacaerys knows that he shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be watching you, but he can’t help himself greedily drinking in every one of your breathless moans, and every single move of your fingers. 

„Oh Jacaerys, please-“

There’s his name again, this time followed by a broken moan and he bites down hard on his lips, desperately fighting the urge to move his hand down to his now impossibly tight breeches. 

„Jace, oh gods-“

Hearing you moan his name like that breaks something within him. Caution and thought are forgotten. Instead, what remains are only his yearning and desperate desire to finally claim you as his. 

He can’t contain himself no longer, can no longer ignore the sensation of his breeches feeling so impossibly tight, can no longer ignore all the desperate, lust-driven thoughts running through his head. 

„Don’t stop, Princess.“ 

You hadn’t mean for this to happen. 

You’d never intended to lose control like that, to behave so wantonly and improper. 

But after seeing them laughing together at dinner, seeing the way he’d so easily leaned into her touch, seeing that easy understanding between them, seeing the way his eyes seemingly lit up with warmth whenever your sister so much as looked at him, you hadn’t been able to stand this gnawing feeling of desperation no longer. 

Quietly, you’d excused yourself from the table, walking to your chambers. 

But neither the warm bath your maids drew you, not the book you tried to immerse yourself in could ease that itch underneath your skin. 

Baela is your sister and Jacaerys is her betrothed and you should be happy for them, happy for the fine match they make. 

But instead, the only thing you feel is jealousy and this consuming, all-encompassing desire for Jacaerys. 

Your sister’s fiancé, yes, yet the only man you’ve ever desired. 

And so, you’d found yourself tossing and turning in your bed, until you’d frustratedly thrown your sheets to the side. 

Biting down hard on your lip and drowning in guilt and shame, your hand had moved between your legs, and as you’d started to pleasure yourself, you started to imagine yourself in Baela’s stead. 

You were the one Jacaerys would marry. 

You were the one sitting next to him at dinner, laughing and talking and it was your touch he leaned into so easily. 

It was your touch he craved, and your pleasure he wanted to bring about. 

These were his hands on you, his fingers moving in and out of you, bringing you to bliss in a rough, desperate pace. 

His lips were leaving featherlight kisses all over your body - your lips, your neck, your breasts, your stomach - while he continued to pleasure you. 

And you were so caught up in chasing your fantasies and your pleasure that you didn’t hear the quiet, tentative knock on your door, neither the sound of your door opening. 

You still haven’t noticed Jacaerys, too caught up in the heat building and building and building in your stomach to notice him walking closer towards your bed, running a hand through his hair in distress. 

The sound of your moans covers his own erratic breathing, you’re too lost in the throes of pleasure to notice anything else besides the fire slowly building within you. 

Until you moan his name. 

„Jace, oh gods-“

A shuffling sound, like someone fixing their clothes, followed by a quiet sigh. Your own? 

„Don’t stop, Princess.“ 

You open your eyes in shock.  

Panting and breathless, you both stare at each other. 

„Jacaerys“, is the only thing you manage to get out, your voice breathless. 

Holding your gaze, Jacaerys starts unbuttoning his coat. 

„Don’t stop“, he repeats, and there’s a certainty and sense of authority to his voice you’ve never heard before. 

And you’re so surprised, so overwhelmed by all these different emotions coursing through you - shame and anxiety upon being discovered by him of all people, yet there’s still your undying desire for him, and heat is still pooling in your stomach, you’re so close - that you do exactly as he says. 

You pick up your pace again, burying your fingers within your cunt again, all the while looking at Jacaerys who’s biting down hard on his lips. 

You’re all too conscious of your nearly naked body and the squelching sounds your cunt makes as you continue to move your fingers in and out of yourself, but then Jacaerys groans loudly, running a hand through his hair, all while still holding your gaze, and all your self-consciousness is forgotten. 

„By the Seven, you’re incredible, Princess“, he breathes. 

His voice breaks something within you, and all you can do is give in to the mounting pleasure. 

Your eyes never leave Jacaerys’ as you continue to pleasure yourself, your fingers moving in and out of your cunt, your other hand gripping tightly onto the bedsheets. 

Jacaerys waches you, greedily taking every little movement, every single one of your broken moans in, as he continues to undress himself. 

His shirt. 

His belt. 

His boots. 

When it’s just his breeches, hanging low on his hips, remaining, he closes the last bit of distance between you, sitting down at the edge of your bed. 

For a moment, you stop in your ministrations, too distracted by him. He’s perfect, his chest toned and muscular, just like a sculpted statue. 

But then your eyes land on the visible bulge in his breeches and your breath hitches. Suddenly, your fingers aren’t enough anymore, you want, no need to see him, feel him filling you up. 

„Jace, oh gods-“

Another broken whimper leaves your mouth, and blindly, you reach out for Jacaerys with your free hand. His hand finds yours, and he interlaces your fingers together, his grip strong and sure and steadying as the heat building in your belly becomes almost too much to bear. 

„Jace, I can’t - please“ 

By this point, you’re an incoherent, whimpering mess, and besides his hand gripping yours, he hasn’t even touched you yet. Just then, he leans down, his free hand tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. 

„That’s it, Princess, come for me“, he whispers, before he lowers his lips to your neck. 

The added sensation of his lips sucking on the sensitive skin of your neck is too much, and so, you follow his command. 

Your back arches off the bed and you hold on to Jacaerys’ hand for dear life as something within you unravels and white hot pleasure washes over you. 

You’ve never felt this way before, could have never even imagined that something like this could even feel so good. 

When it’s over, you fall back onto the sheets, panting. When you open your eyes again, you immediately find Jacaerys’ gaze. The realization of what just happened washing over you. Seven hells, you just pleasured yourself with your sister’s fiancé watching you, guiding you through it. 

But then you see your own burning desire mirrored in his dark brown eyes, and any thoughts of shame, guilt and regret are forgotten, at least for the moment. 

You’ve long since passed the point of no return, and so, you don’t even hesitate before winding your arms around Jacaerys’ neck and pulling him down for a kiss. 

He makes a soft, surprised noise, but that’s as much of an upper hand he’s willing to give you, because immediately the kiss feels fiery and hungry. The way his lips move against yours is almost bruising, and when he coaxes you to open your mouth, all you can do is comply as his tongue claims you. 

One of his hands starts moving over your breasts, making you whimper when he pinches one of your nipples between his fingers, and then gently rolls the stiffened bud between his fingers. His other hand starts moving lower, first over your stomach and your lower abdomen, but then his fingers move over the inner sides of your thighs and your breath hitches in anticipation. 

Jacaerys immediately notices your reaction, breaking away from the kiss for a moment to look at you. „Greedy, aren’t you?“ 

„Jacaerys, please“, you whisper, your hands moving to tangle themselves in his hair and when you tug at his dark curls, he lets out a pleased groan, and you know that he’s yearning for this to happen as much as you are. „I want you, Jacaerys. So take me, make me yours, claim me-“

The rest of your words are swallowed by another hungry kiss and a broken moan leaving your mouth when his hand cups your clit, his fingers moving over you swollen, already overstimulated bundle of nerves.

Gone is the gentle and composed Jacaerys, the regal prince that carries himself with poise, elegance and grace. Left in his place is a desperate man, slave to his most primal desires, yearning to finally make his longings come true. 

His kiss continues to leave you dizzy, and combined with the sensation of his hand drawing teasing circles over your clit, you feel the heat begin to pool in your stomach again.  

Just then, Jacaerys moves, shifting in his position, and you whimper when you can feel his erection straining against your stomach. 

Panting, you break the kiss, looking at him. „Jace-“

He smirks. „Patience, Princess. I want to taste you first.“

Your eyes widen and you can feel blood rushing to your cheeks as the full meaning of his words sink in. This is beyond your wildest fantasies, even. When you’d imagined yourself with Jacaerys, he was always the one taking you, in various positions, and sometimes he even had you on your knees, pleasuring him with your mouth. 

„But - but what about you, Jace?“, you whisper, eyes searching his. 

At your words, his eyes visibly soften for a moment, and he leans down to press a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. „Don’t worry about that yet“, he says, looking at you again, before slowly moving down your body. „But do tell me if something I do is not to your liking“, he adds, the gentler, more composed side of him returning for a brief moment. 

You nod, though you can’t imagine in the slightest that that might be the case. 

When he sees you nod so urgently, Jacaerys just smirks. 

He doesn’t say anything else, instead, he lets his lips and hands speak for him.

As he starts to kiss his way down your body, leaving featherlight kisses on your neck, your sternum, your breasts - which has your breath hitching and your grip on his dark curls tightening - your stomach, your lower abdomen, your hips; his hands continue to move over your body, one hand occupied with your breasts, the other still between your legs, still drawing teasing circles over your clit. 

„Jace“, you moan, when he leaves featherlight kisses on the inner sides of your thighs, all the while continuing to tease your bundle of nerves with his fingers, but not doing anything else just yet. 

And just when you think that you can’t take any more of his teasing, he sucks your clit into his mouth, before his tongue dives between your folds. 

„Oh, oh gods-“, you moan, grip on his dark curls tightening. 

This is so much better than your own fingers could ever be. 

The arrogant, knowing smirk Jacaerys gives you as his tongue continues to move in and out of your core tells you that he knows exactly the effect he has a you, and he enjoys it. 

He’ll ruin you for any other man - in more ways than just the obvious - and he’ll ruin any other man for you, but you don’t care. 

Can’t bring yourself to care as his tongue continues to work you up to a frenzy, while he applies pressure to your bundle of his nerves with his thumb. 

The heat is building and building and building, and you can feel that it won’t take much more for the coil you snap. 

Just then, his tongue reaches a particular spot that has you seeing stars, and you moan, eyes screwing shut in pleasure. 

„Yes, right there, please, Jacaerys, please-“, you whimper incoherently, hands tugging at his hair in a desperate attempt to ground yourself. 

He continues to lap at you in earnest, reaching that spot again and again and again, you don’t think you can handle much more of this. The building pressure is too much to bear, and just then, Jacaerys’ tongue reaches that spot again, and you break. 

Dizzying waves of pleasure wash over you, threatening you to drown you, as your back arches of the bed again and something inside of you explodes. 

Jacaerys takes it all, takes everything you give him, the harsh tugs on his dark curls, your legs shaking, and your juices flooding his mouth. He takes it all, greedily drinking in every last drop. 

„Oh, seven hells“, you pant weakly, falling back into the sheets, your whole body feeling like jelly. 

Your second orgasm leaves you much more wrecked and spent than your first, and you don’t even notice Jacaerys moving up again, until you feel his fingers gently stroke over your cheek. 

„You’re amazing, Princess“, he tells you. 

You open your eyes again to see him leaning over you, his lips still covered with your juices, his nose still glistening with it as well. To you, he’s never looked more beautiful than in this moment, and so you don’t even hesitate before pulling him down for another kiss. 

It’s messy, with strings of your slick still connected to his lips, and you think that it should feel weird that you can taste yourself on his lips, but it doesn’t, it just feels utterly amazing. 

And even though just mere seconds ago, you’ve been trying to catch your breath, feeling your heartbeat accelerate, it’s you that deepens the kiss, you, who boldly moves a hand between you, cupping his clothed erection. 

Now that you’ve had a taste, you feel that you won’t be able to stop until you’ve had it all, until you’ve felt him, really felt him, move inside you, filling you up to the brink. 

Jacaerys groans when your fingers move over his clothed erection, his kiss turning even more desperate, until he breaks away, panting. 

„Are you sure?“, he asks you, leaning his forehead against yours, looking down at you with pure, unfiltered desire in his eyes. 

You nod, moving your fingers over him. 

He groans again, but when his eyes find yours again, there’s a dark edge to them. „Are you sure? Sure you can take another one?“ 

Oh gods. His words, and the dark, sinister tone in which he says them has you biting down on your bottom lip. 

You nod, again, and finally Jacaerys gives in, leaving another bruising kiss on your lips before sitting up and taking his breeches and small clothes off. 

You watch him, too afraid to even blink, and when your eyes finally land on his erection, you swallow, whimpering. He’s so big - when he finally claims you it will surely feel like being speared open. 

And yet, your desire once again wins out, as you reach out your hand once again, cupping his now bare member. 

„Fuck“, Jacaerys groans, his eyes screwing shut in pleasure. 

This only spurs your confidence, and now, feeling bold, and driven by this all-encompassing desire for Jacaerys, you begin stroking his member up and down in earnest, your thumb stroking over the tip, sticky with his pre-cum. 

Jacaerys groans, driving his hips up into your hand. His hands settle on your waist once again, and his grip turns almost painfully harsh as you continue to edge him on. 

Just then, he slaps your hand away, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth. „Keep doing that and I won’t last much longer, Princess“, he says, his voice oddly strained. 

His brown eyes find yours once again, and in them, you same the same desire and longing you feel mirrored back at you. 

„But-“, you start to protest, but Jacaerys immediately silences you with a finger to your lips. 

„Some other time“, he promises you, and you seem to light up at his words. You know that this should never have happened and that there should never ever even be another time, but just the prospect of that excites you. 

„And you promised me another one, didn’t you?“ 

And just like that, all the gentle playfulness has vanished from his words, leaving only lust and desire in its place. 

You nod, biting down hard on your bottom lip, as Jacaerys positions himself at your entrance. 

You watch, entranced, as he guides his member into you. But then, almost immediately, you hiss in pain when he breaches your walls. It’s not much more than the tip, but still, this so different from your fingers or his tongue. 

Jacaerys stops, leaning down to kiss you. The kiss is gentle and soft, and you wind your arms around his neck again, finding both comfort and solace in it. And the longer you kiss him, the more you get used to the feeling of him inside you. 

In fact, it’s you, crossing your legs behind his back, guiding him deeper inside you. The sensation is still somewhat uncomfortable, but Jacaerys’ loud, satisfied moan and the kiss that’s already turned deeper and more passionate, distract you from the pain, and as Jacaerys continues to sink even deeper into you, pain and pleasure begin to mix and you find yourself wanting more. 

And so, when he’s finally bottomed out and looks down at you, asking „Alright, Princess?“, you just tangle your hands in his dark curls again, driving your hips up to meet his. 

„Move, please“, you beg him, and Jacaerys starts to chuckle, but when you drive your hips up into him again, he groans, the feeling of friction too delicious to ignore. 

Jacaerys begins moving in and out of you slowly, his hips driving into you in a leisurely pace - pulling all the way out of you, before slowly sinking back down again. 

It’s torture, this pace he’s setting. The heat in your lower stomach is building and building again, but with the pace Jace is setting, it seems as if you’ll never reach the boiling point. You try to meet his movements, moving your hips up and down, but Jacaerys soon catches on to what you’re doing and his hands settle at your waist with a tight grip, keeping you in place. 

„Jace, please“, you beg, tugging at his dark curls. 

He groans, losing control for a moment, and thrusting into you harshly. The new pace and intensity has you crying out in pleasure, but then it’s back to long, slow thrusts and you feel as if you could cry from frustration. 

„Jace, please, just - just fuck me, don’t hold back“, you beg him, your grip on his hair tightening. That, combined with your words finally gets his attention, and when he looks down at you again, there’s a new, dark gleam in his eyes. It’s as dangerous as it is alluring, and you feel completely caught up in his trap. 

„Oh, so it’s like that, Princess?“, he says, his hips snapping into yours, and you cry out from the intensity. „You want me to fuck you, want me to fill you up, is that it?“

He doesn’t leave you any chance to answer him, his hips now snapping into yours with abandon, his cock driving into you with an intensity and pace that has you seeing stars. One of your hands stays buried in his dark brown curls, while the other moves towards his upper back. 

For a moment, you worry about your fingernails leaving scratches on his back - but another particularly harsh thrust of his, combined with the sensation of one of his hands slowly moving towards your core quickly has you forgetting any thoughts not concerned with the current moment. 

His pace now is brutal and you hold on to him for dear life as his hips piston into you, his cock continuing to spear you open. 

„Jace, oh gods-“, you breathe out, biting down on your lower lip.

When he sees this gesture, Jacaerys just shakes his head, his free hand moving up to cup your cheek. „Don’t. Don’t hold back. Let them hear.“ 

His words alone make you moan, and then, his thumb is there on your clit, steadily applying pressure as he continues to move in and out of you at a brutal pace. 

„Jace, I can’t - oh gods-“, you groan, fingernails digging into his back. 

„That’s it, Princess“, he whispers with another intense thrust, „come for me.“

And then, something within you breaks, and you come for the third time. 

Your fingernails are digging into his back, your legs locked behind his back, and as Jacaerys continues to thrust into you, he can feel your walls clenching around him, absolutely squeezing him. 

The sound of your broken voice, crying out his name, does him in and after thrusting into you once, twice, thrice more, he comes as well, shooting his hot seed into you. 

The sensation is too much for your overstimulated core, and you whimper, your eyes screwing shut, as you hold on to Jacaerys for dear life. 

Just like before, he’s there to guide you through everything - his free hand reaching out to grab the one you quickly untangle from his dark curls. 

You hold onto each other as fire washes over you, white hot waves of pleasure threatening to drown you both. 

This time, it takes you even longer to come down from your high, and when you do, your whole body feels like jelly. 

Luckily, Jacaerys is there for you. He carefully pulls out of you, before gently scooping you up in his arms, reaching out for your bedsheets and drawing them over you both. 

He presses a chaste kiss to your shoulder, the action so gentle and innocent and so unlike anything else that just transpired between you two. He reaches out for your hand with one hand, interlacing your fingers together.

„By the seven, you’re incredible Princess“, he whispers, pressing another chaste kiss to your shoulder as his free hand slowly moves down your body again. When you can feel his hand lightly moving over your core, you can’t help but whimper. 

You’re so sore and overstimulated, you’re not quite sure how much more you can take. 

„There“, Jacaerys whispers, squeezing your hand as his fingers scoop up some of his seed that’s trickled down the insides of your thighs. 

You whimper, incoherent, broken moans leaving you when you can feel his fingers pushing into you again. 

„Sh“, he whispers, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. „I’m just making sure that we’re not wasting a single drop, Princess.“ 

So, uh, any thoughts? 👀

[dreammfyre]

dragon rider ⋆ jacaerys velaryon

SUMMARY. You are the only daughter between Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen and Sir Harwin Strong. The war for the throne had begun and they had to be alert to any attack from King's Landing and the greens, which is why the queen ordered to send Joffrey, Aegon and Viserys to the Arryn Valley under the responsibility of Rhaena Targaryen. You and your older brother, the prince Jacaerys Velaryon are saddened, finding comfort in each other.

WARNINGS. +18 Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!oc. Targaryen incest (brother and sister) virgin!reader. +4000 words.

Jacaerys Velaryon had locked himself in his chambers after saying goodbye to his younger brothers, Joffrey, little Aegon and Viserys had gone to the Valley of Arryn under the tutelage of lady Rhaena Targaryen to keep them safe from the dangers of war by order of the queen Rhaenyra. Sadness consumed him and after embracing them for the last time before they go, he disappeared into the corridors of the castle, he needed to be alone for a while, nor did he seek to hide in the most hidden corner of the castle so he lay on his bed staring at the ceiling for a long time. Not even a night had passed and he missed them so hard, but he had to convince himself that even if the decision was painful, it was the best thing they could do to ensure the safety of the children.

How much more would they have to sacrifice?

Before falling back into another spiral of guilt and remorse, the door rang twice. He remained silent in the hope that whoever was on the other side would be convinced of his absence, but persisted.

"I will not attend to anyone!" he shouted angrily, an explicit order that anyone would have understood and much more importantly, obeyed. Once again the noise of the door got him riled up, annoyed he quickly got up almost running to the door, opened it ready to yell at anyone who had dared to disobey, but to his surprise he found the figure of his sister on the other side.

"Jace, you're here." You sounded relieved.

The prince leaned against the door frame watching you impatiently to enjoy the quiet solitude again.

"Yes, are you okay?" he asked unwilling to make conversation, but he wasn't going to take it out on you, you were his sister and had an obligation to take care of you.

You fiddled with your hands anxiously, not wanting to disturb your brother, nervous about the question you were about to ask. "May... I come in?"

Your brother frowned in confusion and concern then looked both sides of the hallway making sure no one was watching to avoid malicious rumors. It was frowned upon for a princess to sneak into her betrothed brother's chambers.

"Sure, come in."

You did the same as he did -tried to avoid being seen by foreign eyes, avoiding any kind of rumor- and entered quickly before being discovered.

"Are you busy?"

"No." He replied closing the door. Seeing you in his chambers was strange, it had been a long time since you had knocked on his door, couldn't even remember the last time. "Is something wrong, sister?"

It was hard for you to speak because you were so sad about the unexpected departure of your brothers and Jacaerys was the only person on the island who could understand that feeling. You were always the most sensitive of all Rhaenyra's children, tried to understand what was best, but you were going to miss reading stories to your broyher Joffrey, playing with little Aegon and Viserys who were beginning to say their first words, you visited them every day and said good night. Now, they were gone, the worst part was the feeling that tightened your chest, a horrible feeling that you would never see them again.

"I miss them... so much." You whispered looking down at your hands, twirling the gold ring on your finger. You took a deep breath to keep from shedding more tears. "I don't want to tell our mother, she has enough to carry."

Jacaerys felt a lump in his throat burn when he noticed you sad, you always had a kind smile that highlighted your natural beauty, but now and before him you looked dull, your appearance was enough reflection of your low mood, your eyes of a slight red color gave away that were crying not long ago. Jace took your hands between his, caressing your knuckles trying to comfort you with the physical contact, you closed your eyes letting a couple of tears escape that fell like waterfalls down your soft pink cheeks. Your brother hugged you immediately, his closeness did you good, Jacaerys always made you feel safe in your worst moments and this was no exception.

"It's for the best, sister. They have to be safe and unfortunately that far away from us." Though his words were more to himself than to you. "This will be over soon…I promise." He broke away only to look into your eyes and wipe your face himself with the gentleness you deserved to be treated with. Your gaze shone in admiration of Jacaerys' beauty, he looked so concerned for you that he had forgotten his own pain to heal yours. "Don't cry more, please." He begged.

Jace's hand on your cheek was gentle but firm.

"Did you realize that now it's just us left?" you whispered as a heart-breaking reality check. Your brother's face turned to absolute sadness, he had no encouraging words that even he couldn't believe. Jacaerys rested his forehead with yours closing his eyes feeling your scent, you were right, unfortunately you were only the only children of Queen Rhaenyra on the island.

Jacaerys' breath against your face felt so warm, he had his eyes closed in a quiet silence, it was just the two of you. Your brother sighed heavily, looked so peaceful, you had never seen him like that, almost vulnerable. Your hand went hesitantly to his face, caressing his skin with your fingers slowly, the prince didn't complain, he only felt a shiver in his body when you brushed his cheek very gently. Jace swallowed saliva with difficulty, trying to control his deepest and most forbidden impulse.

Impulsive, your other hand went to his curly hair, Jace still had his eyes closed because if he opened them he was going to give in to the temptation of your closeness. The truth is that you weren't thinking straight, for years your brother had been provoking things in you that you couldn't explain and other mens never, maybe it was the intense way he looked at you, how much he protected you or how inexplicably good you felt with him. That was one of the reasons why you decided to decline the request of your mother who had offered you to travel to the Arryn Valley to take care of your brothers and not suffer their remoteness, but you had to refuse because the real torture was going to be to leave Jacaerys in Dragonstone.

"Si-sister…" murmured the heir squeezing your wrist. "Don't do this to me."

Fuck. Your cheeks turned red realizing what was really happening. You took a step back to take distance almost falling over from your clumsy steps.

"I'm sorry, I didn't have to. I… I have to go." You apologized in agitation, unable to look your brother in the face because the shame that invaded your body after confusing you. You were a correct princess, daughter of the rightful queen, her blood, you couldn't jeopardize your reputation for an impulse you had managed to keep for years, much less an engaged prince. "Yes, I have to go."

Ashamed of your actions you walked towards the door dragging your long red dress, tearing yourself away from hell. You needed to get out of there before the situation with your own brother led you to make mistakes you might regret. You opened the door without waiting for a goodbye from him imagining that he must be paralyzed without understanding what had happened, however, Jacaerys closed the door preventing you from leaving.

"Don't go... please." His voice sounded more like a command than an invitation. You looked up meeting his dark eyes on you, you glued your back to the wooden door unable to take any more steps back. "And I don't want you to apologize."

Your heart was beating so fast you could hear it inside, Jacaerys carefully analyzing you.

"Jace, I…"

"You can do it." He interrupted needing you more than as a sister.

"It's not right." You tried to convince yourself, your eyes fixed on his parted lips waiting for you. "It's... stupid."

You were the most correct princess who had set foot on the island and that Westeros had seen grow, blameless in her actions and pure for what the knights fought for your attention. But your attention was on the heir, it was always with him.

Jacaerys knew perfectly you were never going to dare take the first step too guilty to live with regret, you were too attached to the rules to break them. So he took your waist breaking the minimal distance between you in a delicate and fragile kiss, a groping touch where his lips touched yours for the first time in a slow rhythm. The prince took your chin with his fingers holding it, he opened his eyes noticing your pink cheeks lit up and your lips moistened.

"Open your mouth." He whispered softly over your lips. You frowned in confusion, but Jace would never do anything bad to you, you trusted him to question it. "You're going to like it."

Jacaerys kissed you again, this time you listened fearing to do it wrong separating your lips a little more feeling his tongue entering your mouth invading your space, exploring and tasting you for the first time so hard that you clung to his shoulders. Jacaerys pressed you with his body against the door, you moved your tongue brushing it against his, had never experienced anything so incredible.

"Let me touch you, sister." He begged against your lips, running his hands down your dress, being the restraint he needed.

"Do it." Amidst the kisses and caresses you were spiraling into madness losing your princess modesty. Jacaerys had you cornered, he pulled your dress up just enough to slip his cold hand underneath, lifting your leg to the height of his hip, squeezing your skin if I understand your softness snatching a sigh from you. The prince's mouth left your lips and went down your neck, leaving traces of burning kisses, kissing your collarbones lost in the moment.

To both your brother and the people you were like a flower, the most delicate, the one Jacaerys always loved, you were his only sister and he had cared for you every day of his life repressing his deepest feelings. But always a dark seed was planted in his mind, he tried to make it disappear, but it clung to him growing, the desire for you.

"You're perfect." Murmured against your skin, intoxicated by your scent and your little moans. He pressed his body against yours in the perfect way for his erection to press against your center.

"Holy crap."

Those words on your lips sounded very wrong, but exciting to Jacaerys.

Just to fuck you he repeated it again, this time deeper, making your body tremble feeling it against you, he also couldn't help moaning against your skin when he pressed his hips against your legs open for him. He reached for your other leg taking you in his arms, started walking in the direction of his perfectly laid bed, you kept kissing him with euphoria, addicted to the sensation between your legs that he unleashed by touching you. Your thighs squeezed his body imprisoning him, one of your shoes had fallen somewhere on the way to the bed. Your brother sat with you on his lap, put one knee on each side of him, lying on his tense body.

"I can't take you, sister." He said caressing your waist, his labored breathing making it difficult to speak so neatly. "I can't do that to you."

You kissed his neck hungry for pleasure, ignoring his words full of reason. "I want you, Jace, you have to do it, not another."

Jacaerys closed his eyes clenching his fists over your dress as the prince heard you so needy, he was trying to push you away being useless, your kisses following a meaningless path.

"You are my downfall." He confessed enjoying your lips claiming his skin. He hugged you tightly around the waist, preventing you from pulling away too far.

"I think I like the sound of it." You responded with your lips millimeters from his, the heat of his breath on your skin sending a shiver down your spine.

And, fuck, it felt better than it sounded.

Jacaerys leaned into you and his lips finally met yours in a deep and passionate kiss. His hands on your back pulling tight against him as he deepened the contact and his tongue sought to enter your mouth again. You opened your mouth for him like the first time, he felt you lose control as you complied with his command.

"We can do it... another way." Jacaerys said breaking the kiss. He watched you for an eternal moment, your face flushed, your dark eyes with dilated pupils, your swollen mouth ajar desperate to keep quenching your thirst for him. Jace touched your face arranging a lock of crossed hair, your skin was burning, imagining his was similar. The heir was dying to make you his at that moment, had waited too long, but he couldn't disrespect his only sister like that. He felt walked into the abyss playing with your virtue and maidenhood wanting to take it knowing it wasn't right.

"What?" you asked with furrowed brows.

"Do you trust me?"

"T-tell me what you want me to do."

Did you want to kill him by hesitating like that? Jacaerys questioned, if only you had any idea of the effect you have on him, that he would give you anything to have you around.

"I want you to stay exactly here…" His hands found your hips underneath your dress, holding you tightly on bare skin, anchoring you to him like two pieces fitting together perfectly. You were comfortable in that position where you could feel a hard nub pressing against your sensitive center, Jacaerys moved your hips over his body slowly re-activating the sensation between your legs that ran up your body like a shiver. "Do it."

His imperative tone made you feel pressured to live up to expectations, wanted to make him feel the same way you were experiencing.

With your knees sinking onto the mattress you moved back and forth carefully feeling his length, never took your eyes off him at any moment too attentive to his reactions, the prince let out a deep sigh as your folds brushed against his throbbing erection for you. Jacaerys felt a surge of desire as you began to move over him gaining more confidence, the slow deliberate friction sent shivers down his spine. His hands on your waist held you steady not letting you go anywhere because that was your place, he encouraged your movements guiding you against him, his breath hitching in his throat as he watched you with burning eyes.

"It feels... good." You said with heavy breathing. You didn't understand the reason, but you couldn't complain, the rubbing between your legs against him wasn't something imagined possible.

"Gods, you have no idea." The prince murmured hoarsely and strained from the effort to contain his growing need to penetrate you if kept speaking in that dulcet tone of voice.

You were so wet that the fabric of Jacaerys' pants was immediately stained by you, you were so ready for him, but Jace was clear with his condition not to take your innocence. You leaned on his shoulders swaying faster rubbing your cunt against his member trapped in his clothing, a torturous but necessary barrier. With you on his lap the prince unraveled the simple ribbon on your back by simply pulling one end of a silk bow, taking the audacity to pull it down just enough to leave your breasts uncovered as you continued to sway your hips increasing the pace guiding by desire.

"I... I c-can't, Jace." You groaned clinging to his shoulder in desperation, your legs were starting to tire but it was the feeling taking over your body that wouldn't let you think straight, unaware of yourself. "Jace-" asked him for help sure he knew what to do.

"Like this… just… a little more." Gasped watching you so perfect on top of him, he wasn't going to be able to get you out of his mind nor did he know how many sluts he was going to need to satiate his desperate need to fuck you. He squeezed your ass leaving marks on your skin, your round breasts moving to your rhythm made him want to take them in his mouth once and for all, he looked at you one last time, the rubbing on his member only made him desperate, brought his mouth close to one of your breasts sucking just out of desire to see your reaction. You were fucking delicious.

"Jacaerys!" You called out to him, closing your eyes tightly. The warm sensation of his tongue circling your nipple made you move faster, claiming him for his foul play.

The correct prince heir could barely form a coherent thought as you spoke when you rode him like the wildest of the dragons, the sound of your broken voice sending another wave of desire through his tortured body.

"Just-a little more... Stay like this." He begged desperately for your mercy. His hands gripped your hips more firmly, guiding you against him, the friction between you was wet and delicious at the same time with a forbidden touch that only made it better. Your folds fit perfectly with his member, spanning his entire hard length, you opened your eyes for a moment finding your brother with his jaw tense and his head back as if instead of enjoying it he was suffering from his desires. For a second, you questioned where Jacaerys had learned to do these things, how long he had kept himself under the mantle of the right prince devoted to duty.

"Like this?" you asked innocently. The prince moaned at your question as the only way to communicate, he was ecstatic under your legs, grip on your hips tightened burying his fingers leaving marks. This time, the innocent tone of voice didn't fool him for a second, he could see the same spark of mischief and desire in your eyes.

You could ride him as many times as you wanted and he would find it insufficient, it was just a way of not feeling so guilty about what you were doing. He was so needy especially for you that he was about to give in to his orgasm just at the thought of pulling down his pants releasing his desire by sliding into your tight interior.

Jacaerys felt himself losing control, right now he didn't care at all if the door opened right now and he was found taking immoral pleasure in you. The feel of your body against his was something he had only fantasized about, the way you rode him letting out gasps at every movement, it was driving crazy. His hands roamed your body as if this was the last time, caressing it gently and squeezing it possessively, his breath hitching against your skin was the sign that he was about to come.

"You feel so good, love. So fucking good…" He murmured almost angrily, in a voice charged with desire you'd never heard coming out of him before, now his hips moved involuntarily in time with your movements. Couldn't get enough of you, he wanted you.

"I can... feel you." You said resting your forehead on Jace's who kept his eyes closed holding his release from giving you the pleasure you deserved. The truth of your statement was hard to ignore, the reaction of his body to you was undeniable. You could feel him very hard beneath you.

"Yes… you can feel me, sister…. I can't take it… not when you're like this…"

"But I want to feel you." Your request was only adrenaline for Jacaerys who obedient to your wishes lifted his lap with you on top so hard you had to stop to take it in, you felt his member harder than ever trying to enter being stopped by the fabric, this time you moaned differently, it was a different adrenaline. You squeezed your legs tighter taking in the sensation. "More."

"I'll give you anything you want… just… please…" he gasped with difficulty. "Don't stop."

You had become his most precious and wrong object of pleasure. Your brother let out another strangled moan, his head thrown back in ecstasy, his hands on your hips gripping tightly as he held on to the tide of pleasure that threatened to consume him. It was the first time Jacaerys had ever cared about female pleasure, specifically yours, wanting to give you the best with what little he had to offer at that moment.

"Oh, Jacaerys!" You exclaimed in a high pitched tone squeezing his shoulder, legs shaking moving fast on top of him so much it burned, Jacaerys lifting his hips in response only dragged you to orgasm, the friction of your body on him was driving him mad making question the fragility of his morals at the thought of taking you as his right there and then and stop fucking himself. Desperately knowing that at some point it was going to end, you sought his mouth to kiss him, however, both of you moaned echoing in your mouths waiting for the other to give in to let you go together. Jacaerys bit your lower lip trapping it between his teeth forcing you to stay close, he wanted to look into your eyes as you fell into sin, your hot skin was red from the effort and the rising pleasure rising from between your legs until a string of higher and higher pitched cries escaped your mouth as you reached the peak of pleasure, your body stopped moving over the prince falling in surrender and exhaustion. Jace let out a deep moan as he watched you reach orgasm feeling his crotch wet but satisfied.

You lay silently on top of him resting on his body, Jacaerys lifted your dress covering your nakedness. Your breathing needed regulating as you felt short of breath and heavy, the heir merely admired you, kissing your neck like a treasure that would soon dissolve from his hands.

"We have to report to the Council." You whispered, delighting in your brother's lips with the same guilt as at first time. "Our absence will arouse suspicion."

"I know… just one more minute." His arms still held you tightly against him, not wanting to let go just yet. He closed his eyes as you rested your cheek against his shoulder, inhaling deeply to take in your natural scent. "I cannot present myself in these conditions."

You laughed under your breath. The moment of calm disappeared when the door to Jacaerys' chambers rang another time. They didn't catch a glance as you immediately stood up and fixed your dress, your hands trembling as you tried to tie the damn knot but your fingers were so clumsy that Jace had to help you.

"One moment, please!" the prince shouted, fixing the messy hair he had been stroking for the last few minutes. The door rattled again, making them both desperate making the adrenaline rush through their blood again. "Just a moment!" Jacaerys repeated so angrily that even you were startled, he grabbed your hand pulling you with him to the door asking you to stand behind it. Your body trembled with fear, what if it was the queen seeking her heir and entering the chambers? They were a mess, their clothes gave them away, even the bed showed their sins. Jace approached your face as slowly as the soft whisper came from his mouth. "You have to be quiet, do you understand?" You nodded immediately, he couldn't resist leaving one last kiss taking advantage of the closeness.

He opened the door to find lady Baela Targaryen, his betrothed.

"Are you well?" She asked with genuine concern for Jacaerys. When you heard his voice, you had to cover your mouth with one hand to keep from saying anything.

"I feel... better, thank you."

The silence that fell was so uncomfortable you'd rather faint than have to endure it. Seconds which guilt took hold of your body.

"Are you coming to the Stone Table?"

"Sure… I just need a second." Her answer sounded so matter-of-fact that Baela nodded, but deep down she felt that something didn't sit right with Jacaerys. "I'll introduce myself in a moment."

"Have you seen your sister? I'm worried about her state of mind after her brothers left."

You closed your eyes praying to the gods to get you out of that horrible situation once and for all. Jacaerys had to lie in a way he was going to feel guilty about for the rest of his life. He shook his shoulders appearing carefree and confident.

"Did you look in the sky? She must be with her dragon, I assure you, my sister is a very good rider."

[entitled-fangirl]

Game of Thrones Masterlist

Back to Main Masterlist

Robb Stark

A change of sigil.

Cregan Stark

Lord and Lady.

You’re a Stark now.

Happy as you are.

Luck. Part 2, Part 3

Yes, my lady. SMUT

Absolutely not.

As long as she's comfortable. SMUT

May I?

A wolf. SMUT

Indeed, my girl.

Lost.

In time.

howl at the moon.

Warriors.

I'll find you.

Stop.

Cold.

Choose me.

Doll.

A Northern Lannister.

Peculiar. Prequel P2

War.

I promise everything.

In the Godswood. SMUT

In the midst of death and destruction. Part 2

The Warden's fears.

A proper goodbye. SMUT

A gentle wolf.

When it matters most.

Run.

A perfect match indeed.

Dagger.

Heterochromia. SMUT

Only you, pretty girl. SMUT

A brilliant melody.

Manhood. P2. P3. SMUT

Flames in snow.

Direwolf.

Moonblood in the middle of the night.

Snowfall.

A soft spot.

Tradition.

Stubborn man.

Meek.

War Prize.

Too needy.

So eager.

A second wife and a poet. SMUT included.

A sigil of mine.

A King in the North. P2 SMUT

Horrid thoughts.

More wolf.

Fatherhood. P2

Modern!Cowboy!Cregan writings (in no particular order):

1, 2, 3, 4, 5

Jace Velaryon

I won’t burn you. SMUT

I can't promise that.

Unknown.

Staying warm. SMUT

Aemond Targaryen

I hate you.

The middle of war. Part 2

Thunder.

Reading late.

Chance. Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

The crown.

Gwayne Hightower

Lady Hightower.

Cheeky. SMUT

Never happier.

A good father.

Benjicot Blackwood

Devotion.

Violence through his veins.

.......................

GoT fanfic count: 81

[annwrites]

⸻ a call to arms. part one.

· pairing: jacaerys velaryon x dragonseed!reader · type: part of a series · summary: desperate to provide aid to your starving family due to the blockade, you venture, along with a great many other lowborns, to dragonstone, in hopes of gaining something—anything—which you might bring back to them; something to fill your little sister's belly. things turn out quite the opposite as planned, as what you now believe to be a mad queen, locks all of you in her dragonpit, and you're forced to run, hide, & fend for your lives against two hungry dragons. in the end, only two individuals are left standing: hugh hammer, who has now claimed for himself vermithor...and you—chosen by silverwing. just when you believe things can't possibly get any worse, you then meet prince jacaerys. · word count: 1,674

He grinds his teeth together, filled with utter contempt—disgust—that whatever you are—bastards, lowborns, flea-ridden rats—are now, above all else, dragonriders.

And he is meant to share common spaces with you now? Such as the Great Hall? Meant to pass you in the halls and tolerate the sight of you?

To ride alongside you?

To treat you with...what? Kindness? Generosity for having 'come to his mother's aid'? He will most certainly not be treating, nor addressing you as an equal. Either of you.

To be a dragonrider...it is a sacred bond. And now he is meant to believe that even the lowest scum Flea Bottom has to offer has the same right as he to sail the skies, unleashing fire and blood upon the enemy?

Never.

He will never.

The rest of them got what they deserved for thinking they had any right to claim that which is meant only for those like him.

Queens and kings, princes and princesses, lords and ladies alike.

He is better than both of you.

Even if he is similar in ways he does not want to admit...

Boots echo against stone floors, dark curls falling over dark eyes, a brooding temperament within.

Jacaerys emerges into the Great Hall, Hugh promptly rising from his seat, bowing his head. "My Prince."

Jacaerys studies him for but a moment, briefly judging the plain-colored clothes he dons, before turning his sights across the room to you, who is seated between two stained-glass windows, arms wrapped around your bent knees, while you cast your attentions outward, instead of on him.

Your Prince.

Your superior.

He clenches his jaw at the sight of your long, silver hair that moonlight casts in an ethereal glow, making it appear as if it is sparkling. Cascading down your back like molten silver in soft waves.

"You there—girl—do you know how incredibly rude it is for you not to stand and curtsy when in the presence of royalty?"

You jolt—torn from tormented memories of but a couple days past; of people running, screaming for mercy. Dying choking on their own blood as dragonfire burns them alive.

None of you had anticipated—had imagined—that the very queen you were coming to, under the guise of offering your aid to in the war, would lock you in a room to be eaten by terrifying beasts.

Aegon deserves the throne in comparison to such a monster.

You have made a great mistake, mayhaps. Then again, becoming a dragonrider has already filled your belly, provided you with clean sheets to sleep upon, a guard outside your door, hot baths.

But it is not you who needs these things. You want them for your family.

There is no turning back now, however. You knew as much with certainty when that silver dragon laid her head at your feet before leaning forward, brushing her warm snout against your abdomen while you struggled to contain your bladder and bowels. While you sobbed hysterically, begging for mercy from a being that you do not so much as share a common language with.

You know not a word of High Valyrian, though you will now be expected to learn, you suppose.

Among many other things. Such as how to ride the animal...

Your stomach twists nervously at the thought.

You turn away from the window, slide off the ledge, then grab your skirts in either of your hands before tucking a foot behind your other ankle, bowing. "My Prince."

He scoffs, coming closer. "That was the worst curtsy I've ever seen."

You fold your hands in front of you, keeping your eyes downcast. "Forgive me, My Prince, it is...the first time I've attempted one."

He rolls his eyes, settling his arms behind his back before glancing over his shoulder to Hugh, jerking his head toward the hall he's just come from, and he quickly makes himself scarce.

He looks back to you.

"And what is your name?" He demands.

"Y/N," you state quietly.

A muscle in his jaw feathers. "You are to look at me while we're speaking. Do you understand?"

You nod, trailing your eyes upwards—over a red-and-black velvet tunic, the three-headed symbol of his house embroidered upon the breast—until they're looking into hues of chocolate-brown.

He clenches his hands into tight fists behind his back.

You've every trademark of a pure Targaryen: silver hair, lilac eyes—with flecks of violet—skin so fair it's near-translucent, delicate features.

He fucking loathes you for every asset which you possess and he does not.

He would never—will never—state it aloud, but you look far more Targaryen than he ever will.

He wishes one of the dragons had taken you down its gullet as well. That way, he would not be forced to suffer the nigh-daily sight of you now.

He looks you over, circling you like a dragon does its prey—desperate to find something he may use to mock you with; some imperfection—before standing tall before you again.

"You think wearing rags before your Queen's court appropriate?"

Your expression quickly settles into a scowl.

Good, he thinks. Give him an excuse to introduce you to the Queen's justice. He is silently begging you for as much within his malice-filled gaze.

Your small hands clench into fists at your slender sides. "My mother made this dress for me."

His jaw ticks. "From now on, you will wear more suitable clothing when outside your private chambers—which means conservative in nature; not whatever men found desirable upon the Street of Silk. You are a representative of our house now. A dragonrider. A soldier to our cause. You will look the part."

Tears sting your eyes as yours bore into his own hatefully.

"I am not a whore," you reply contemptuously.

There is a beat of silence, his brows furrowing slightly. Surely you are lying. You have the look—more than.

And then you continue.

"And with what coin, My Prince?" You sneer.

He takes a step closer, causing you to shuffle backward, catching yourself against the window-ledge, the stone digging into your palms as you grip it to steady yourself.

He leans in close—your faces mere inches apart. "I beg your pardon?"

You do not shrink away from him.

Gods, you already hate him with all that you are.

"I came here for coin. Desperate for—"

"So greed is what sent you? Not to aid us in winning back my mother's throne? Her rightful seat. You come to steal away a dragon, and then what?"

"My family is starving!" You finally shout, at the end of your rope from the last few sleepless nights that've been filled with nightmares instead of rest; your temper having reached its limit. "My mother and little sister both! How would you feel if it were you? If your loved-ones were suffering, while all you could do is sit back and watch them waste away before you? So, yes, I came. I claimed a dragon—even if my intentions had only been merely to host audience with a clement queen who would provide aid to her suffering subjects. Not burn them alive for coming to help her!"

He grits his teeth. "You will watch your tongue, you insolent little wench. My mother sent boat-fulls of food to King's Landing. She has provided—"

You begin to laugh, with a lack of humor behind it all, cutting him off. "Oh, yes, how very kind of her to give aid to the very subjects she is responsible for the suffering of in the first place. The blockade is all your all's fault! People were fighting like dogs in the streets—assaulting—killing each other for a small sack of grain! I risked mine own life for a peck of potatoes! That's it! Even then, I was forced to wrestle a full-grown man off myself to get it. I was fortunate to escape with my life—with any food to speak of for my struggles!"

You step forward, forcing his royal highness to take a step back, and he swallows thickly.

"You've never known hunger a day in your life, have you? Never known what is it to wear 'rags' while you don your silk and velvet, while you sleep on thousand-thread count sheets, while you flout your jewels, and your fancy titles, and your gilded castles while the rest of us bow and scrape before your feet for a mere morsel of respect! You are meant to take care of us!"

Once you've finished, your heart pounds in your ears, your shoulders rapidly rise and fall, and it's then that you notice Prince Jacaerys' hand is tightly gripping the pommel of his sword—his knuckles having now gone white from the force.

Your eyes flit back to his, tears filling your own. "And I am meant to one day call you king, given we are 'successful' in our endeavors to win your mother back her glorified chair," you say, spitting the final word at him.

The two of you stand tall before the other, refusing to be the first one to break—your chins held high, even if your stomach is now twisting painfully into knots while your bowels turn to water.

If he puts you to death for your unimaginable disobedience—your disrespect...who will help your family then?

Your little sister... Your little girl.

She became as much when your mother went away in herself after your father's passing. It did not matter that you were still a mere child yourself when it happened. She became your responsibility to look after and tend to from that day forward.

And now...you feel as if you have failed her.

"Go to your room," he orders lowly, his body shaking from anger, brief pauses between each word.

You curtsy one last time.

"My Prince," you mumble, brushing past him, wanting to break something.

He stalks off in the opposite direction, feeling much the same: wanting to burn something—or, rather, someone—alive.

[wyvernest]

cregan stark x f!targaryen!reader

previous(first) part - next part | all chapters list

>Queen Rhaenyra has sent you away from the brewing war to safety since your brother, Jacaerys, has secured the Pact of Ice and Fire. You have to honor it by marrying Lord Cregan Stark.

cw: slow burn, fluff, eventual smut, angst, follows book events with slight deviations, im planning to let jacaerys live! every chapter is around 2k wc

chapter cw: tension, fluff, a little angst, they are starting to fall for eachother

“The ceremony will be held tomorrow.” Cregan’s deep and steely voice rings with an imposing echo onto the stone walls of the great hall of Winterfell. “My lady is worn from the journey.”

Although the order seemingly held some benevolence to your sore legs and southern blood barely adjusting to the newfound cold, his voice feels so detached that you find yourself wondering whether he truly did care for your spirits, or if he only wished it as a polite formality.

“I will take my leave before sundown, sister.” Jacaerys places a comforting hand on your shoulder. “I must be back at Dragonstone before the new moon.”

“Ill news?” you ask, already troubled and feeling incapacitated from protecting and helping your family.

“Ser Criston Cole marches on Duskendale lands. I must be present at the council to take action.”

“What about me?” You worry, and only after speaking do you realize how stupid the question was.

Jacaerys takes a moment to reply, evidently not wanting to make you feel more secluded than you were.

“I will not make any decision that you wouldn't have in my stead.” He decides, “I will send you ravens to inform you, and represent you.” a pause, “unofficially.”

There is nothing more to be said. Any words he could sweeten end with the same inevitable finale. No raven could fly fast enough to deliver your ideas soon enough for the Greens not to gain an advantage over the reluctance of your team.

You are a pawn. Your dragon is a pawn. And you will only read about the war as if it were history before you could contribute.

“I understand.” You manage to let out without showing how disturbed you are and possibly making the northern lords think that you were terrified to marry their leader.

With a hug too frail to even begin to express how much you will miss him, your brother mounts his dragon after the welcoming festivities in the great hall and takes off with a blow of wings that normally would have had you taking a few steps back from Vermax.

But now it didn't matter anymore. You watch as your only friend dissolves into the skies thick with white clouds, becoming nothing but a raven in the distance.

Suvion cries out, a sharp, strained screech that only pain as great as yours could have caused, and the clouds answer, though you cannot see him anymore.

You are taken aback at the feeling of heavy pelts placed upon your shoulders, and only then you realize how cold you are. Your frigid fingers reach around your own neck to grasp at it and keep it from falling.

“The cold is treacherous. One moment you may think you're warm, and the following, your heart stops.” Cregan comes to stand next to you, looking away to where Vermax had disappeared.

“Thank you, my lord.” You speak coyly, quietly, so he wouldn't catch the crack in your voice and think you weak and soft. Perhaps in a different situation, you would have blushed at his kindness, but the ice wall you felt between you and him was now more palpable than ever. Alone, with a stranger.

“You should come inside.” He insists, but it is not advice, it's a courteous command.

Without a word, you turn and listen. You are escorted to your chamber in the castle, and as you pass through the halls, you look around like a lowborn in a dragonpit. At least that's what it must look like, but in your heart it was storming; how different the place was from what you have known your whole life, the people, the sounds in the yard, the very air of the keep.

He stops in front of your door, beckoning you inside.

“Send for me should you need anything your handmaiden cannot provide.”

His voice is softer, as if trying to indulge you and your loss. As if he understands.

“Yes, my lord.”

“Cregan.”

You do not know for certain if there truly is a gleam of affection in his eyes as he says it, but you do know that you held yourself back from leaning forward in his arms.

Oh, how you wanted to just let it out, and how you wanted him to hold you through it. To offer some comfort that, at least, he cared for you. That he wasn't a cold hearted man with nothing warmer than diplomatic skills. Whom you would have to learn how to love the hard way. Only you know how your heart briefly yearned for him to offer you strength.

But alas, it was not proper. Too soon.

“Cregan.” You accept, and he barely hears it. Your heart sinks when he nods politely and slowly shuts the door, and it sinks further at the sound of his boots on the cold stone outside your chamber, walking away.

A terribly tragic thought slips into your tired mind; that he is betrothed to you, yet his heart belongs to another. Northerners love northerners, and the Stark men have mostly married into vassal houses of the north in the past.

No matter how loyal he is to be from now, his thoughts will always be about her, the people will always know about her.

Suvion's head appears at your window, blocking out the moonlight.

“Oh, you,” You whine, opening the windows and laying your upper body on his snout.

You hear someone gasp and scream in the courtyard, no doubt because of the dragon clawing at the walls of the castle.

“We should find some place good for you. Somewhere safe and warm.” He growls sorrowfully, as if aware.

But it doesn't last long. As quickly as he came at the window, Suvion rips away from your touch and carefully leaps out of the castle yard and up into the night sky. His otherwise white scales now partly reflect the dark of night in their shine, making it impossible for you to even tell how high up he was.

Alone again. You knew he wouldn't go far, that he only needed to hunt and come back, but you wished for leverage that was now gone.

Restless and troubled, you decide to take a stroll around the keep that is to be yours in less than a day.

You follow your curiosity back to the great hall, from where you hear whispered voices and see glimmers of lit torches.

“...of the beast. Food is scarce.”

“It will set eyes upon us.”

“Lord Glover, this is necessary. I do not wish-”

The lords at the table turn abruptly at the sight of the shadow you cast into the obscured hall.

“My lady. Is everything alright?” You hear Cregan's voice, his face away from light.

You feel embarrassed and stupid, interrupting a clearly important talk of resources that did not yet concern you and making the impression of a spoiled, uneducated woman.

“No- I didn't mean to intrude.”

“You could never be intruding on talks of our domain.” He attempts to soothe your nerves, although the implication of responsibilities is indomitable in his tone.

You approach them, carefully eyeing the other lords, feeling quite literally akin to a lizard slithering into a den of wolves. You cannot read anything on their stern faces, and it doesn't fail to make you uneasy and put your guard up.

“The dragon, my lady,” one of them starts, a man well past his youth, “he is a welcomed weapon in the North, although -”

“Although it is true that war has brought us both here, my lord, a dragon is not a weapon.” You warn with a poised expression, as respectfully as you could, yet fire dripped from your words.

The other men frowned in surprise and disapproval, but said nothing. You glance at Cregan, by your side, hoping to be faced with kindness, but instead your heart skips a beat at the sight of a cutthroat look he was throwing at the men, protective of your contribution.

“-apologies. The dragon is a welcomed ally. But livestock is barely enough to get us through what's to come. What are we to offer? Sheep?”

“We have endured harsher winters with lesser than we have today.” Your betrothed reassures, despite the evident growing concern.

“Suvion is big enough to hunt for himself, I dare say. The cold doesn't seem to burden him. There is absolutely no need to thin out the herd for him, my lords.”

You struggle to conceal a sharp gasp when his hand runs up your lower back. A way to show approval of your input, no doubt, yet you find that every crumble of affection he grants you is more than enough to spark fire in your body. Is that what you have come to?

You were worried enough that the rough stoicism of the north man wouldn't provide half the love you dreamed of, yet now you falter on that thought. If such a touch is already setting you alight, what would more do?

“A good omen. Prince Velaryon’s first visit wasn't as uneventful.”

“It is settled then. We will discuss other matters after the wedding.” He commanded, and your stomach flipped at the mention of your union.

With the lords out of the room, Cregan turns to you.

“I thought you would be resting. It's near the hour of the ghosts.” He speaks gently with a warm vibration in his voice, as if you have been wedded for years and he knows all about your practices and nature.

“I couldn't. The more I lay there waiting, the more it felt like I would never find sleep again.”

A faint smile lights up your tense visage, an instinctual way of wanting to see him soften as well.

He looks intently, clearly understanding of your friendliness, but it does nothing to soothe his brow further.

“Come. I wish to speak with you, since neither of us cannot find slumber.”

Neither of us? What is that supposed to mean?

You once again hook your arm around his, his body heat immediately warming you up and putting you at ease. He leads you into his chambers, a strong fire already lit in the hearth.

“Is this proper?”

“Whoever shall dare speak ill of my wife will never speak again.”

A shiver runs up your spine. Whether it's a pleasant or a distressed one, you cannot tell anymore.

“I know how you must feel, although it may not seem like it.” He begins, beckoning you to sit on the edge of the bed. “It's the duty that comes with the name.”

“Yes.” You agree, wanting to hear more of what he wishes to tell you. “Although my biggest concern lies with my position. I feel…” You cease before you could say something like “trapped” or “exiled”. He has been nothing but good to you since you arrived and you do not want to seem ungrateful or hostile. You do like him.

But before you could find the right words, he kneels in front of you on the floor and takes your hands in his. Your heart stops. Your brain shuts down. Gods.

“-powerless.” He untangles your mind and finishes your thought. “But you aren't. We will offer help, I do not intend to trample the oath I swore to your brother. The oath I am to swear to you.” He adds, his tone is soft and tender yet his words so meaningful and heavy, you hear them as though their echo reverberated in the entire room around you.

His thumb delicately rubs over your knuckles, his expression as stoic as ever, only his actions speak differently. He leans forward and places a kiss on the back of your hand, assuring and loving.

You draw in a sharp breath, as if you haven't felt affection before in your life.

“Cregan.” is all you manage.

“It is true that this union was made with interest. But you are not unwanted, my lady. I believe we will find more than allies in each other.”

TAGS!! im sorry for those that don't work its tumblr's fault i checked all of them multiple times

@cost234 @dracaryxzs @cherrymallowtm @ithilwen-blackwood @lady-targaryens-world @lightdragonrayne @krokietino @sukunassfinger @rey26 @beebeechaos @melsunshine @aemondwhoresworld @romeavecryst @raynetargaryan2 @fireandblood-mharmie @mitski9328373 @drwho-ess @dorkysupernova @nitimurinvetitumsposts @ghitakhnifissa @darylspersonalwhore @helo1281917 @delaynew @poochies04 @accidentpronedork @fiction-fanfic-reader @rha3nyra @wallacewillow0773638 @star-serpent @potionsclub @drwho-ess @moadvx @jellybeanstacey0519 @italianchameleon @ephemeralninon @sithapprentice @cloveradora @hawkins-2000 @thatspiderwebinthecorner

@wolvestitches @idohknow @nyxbranwenn @asteria33 @nina6708 @r-3dlips @oxymakestheworldgoround @daisyhams @notmycanoe @percyjacksonspeen

@squidscottjeans @itchkhiara @klutzylaena @heylittlelollita @scrumptiousloser @karmaswitch

[brokenmenswhore]

not enough jace requests you say? 🧐 how about Jace ends up marrying aegons twin sister as a way to prevent war but the whole time he compares her to baela and is upset since baela was who he was supposed to marry. Reader then overhears what he says about her and realizes it will never be a marriage of love, only duty- so she starts being cold to him and he realizes he messed up

this is formatted as a drabble :)

could have | jacaerys velaryon

pairing: jacaerys velaryon x fem!reader

warnings: just a lil angst

────── ☾ ──────

You were always second-best. You were Aegon’s twin sister, and your family revolved around Aegon. Aegon the eldest, Aegon the rightful heir to the throne, Aegon the pinnacle of the Greens.

You were not simply you, but the better half of him. You were always Aegon’s sister, the other one who shared his birth date. Your side of the family always prioritized Aegon, your mother especially. The closer Rhaenyra got to the throne, the more she wanted Aegon on it.

You did not want your brother on the throne. Being that your minds were connected, you knew him better than anyone, and therefore, you knew better than anyone that he should not be left in charge of ruling an entire realm.

That is why your betrothal to Jacaerys was a positive for you: it prevented a war that would occur if your mother pushed Aegon on the throne. It also allowed for you to reside with the other side of your family, a side that knew Rhaenyra deserved the throne, and a side that could hopefully see you as something other than second-best to Aegon.

You quickly felt like second-best to someone else upon your arrival to Dragonstone.

You felt guilty when your betrothal to Jacaerys was announced. You knew he was already betrothed to Baela Targaryen, and you hoped that another match for Baela would be announced shortly to absolve you of that guilt.

When you first arrived in Dragonstone, you met Baela, and immediately apologized for ruining her betrothal. Regardless of you or Jacaerys’s feelings about the matter, this was not up to you, so you had no choice. Baela understood, and she held no resentment toward you. She cared for Jacaerys, but not marrying him did not mean changing that, so she was alright with it.

Jacaerys, however, was very professional with you at all times. Despite your predicament, there was always a wall up with him. Up until your wedding day, you barely spoke, and when you did, he was Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, never just Jace. Not the way he was with Baela.

You desperately wanted to know the man you were to marry. If you were to spend the rest of your life with him, proving him with heirs, and taking care of his every need as a husband, you wished to get along. You craved a connection that was rarely found, but you were determined.

You would try to catch him reading in the library, alone in his chambers, or getting ready in the morning, but when he wasn’t alone, he was with Baela. You could tell they had a strong connection, and you still felt bad for breaking their betrothal, but part of you was also annoyed. Jacaerys was now your betrothed, and that should be you occupying his time.

You could sense that Jacaerys was upset with your arrangement. He did not avoid you, but did not seek you out.

In his mind, he was subconsciously comparing you to Baela. He was finding any reason to continue being upset about your arrangement. There was nothing practically wrong with you, but he wanted what he had expected his entire life. He wanted what could have been. He would listen to you speak during council, which Rhaenyra insisted you attend due to the influx of information about the Greens you could provide, and he would consider if Baela would say the same. He would try to picture you as his wife, and it would not make his heart swell the way it did when he pictured the same of Baela.

Still, you held out hope that your marriage could be more than a political alliance. You were going to spend the rest of your life with him, and you craved some sort of romantic or lustful connection. He was handsome, that much was agreed upon by most, and you loved his passion and confidence.

He barely spoke to you on the day of your wedding.

He spoke his vows as if he were giving a political speech. You only saw him smile when commonfolk approached the table to congratulate you two, and you could tell it was disingenuous.

When it came time for the bedding ceremony, you refused to undress. Jacaerys sat on the bed, confusion evident on his face. Even though he said it was important to consummate the marriage, you said you did not wish to force him, and you would simply tell everyone you did your duty. You left the room before either of you began to undress.

Despite your new marital state, things did not change. You tried to reach out to Jacaerys, but he pulled back.

You felt your heart sink when you walked past his chambers and overheard him speaking to someone about you.

“I just cannot help but wonder what could have been if things did not have to change. I will continue to do my duty as a husband, but that is all I have in me.”

You swallowed back tears. You always held out hope that things would shift, even if only a little, but it was hopeless. Your marriage would never be one of love, it would only be one of duty.

Hearing his words confirm it as such was enough for you to decide to pull back. If he had no intention of trying, there was no point in your doing so.

You began to be cold to Jacaerys, giving him the same attention he gave you, which was practically none.

He would greet during the beginning of council meetings, and you would ignore him.

He would pull out your chair for you, like a dutiful husband does, and you would say a simple “thank you” and sit.

You no longer made the effort to ask him how his food was at supper. You no longer made the effort to help him with his clothing pins in the morning.

When you were getting ready to sleep one night, Jacaerys actually spoke to you.

“What troubles you as of late?” he asked.

You acted nonchalant, continuing to brush out your hair. “What do you mean?”

“You seem off.”

“I am simply doing my duty, and nothing more.” You somewhat spat the words out, your tone laced with venom.

Jacaerys was taken aback by your candor. “If that is how you wish for this marriage to be, then so be it.”

You turned in your chair to face him. “I am not the one who wishes for a strictly dutiful marriage, Jacaerys.”

“Meaning?” he responded, “I do not wish to live out the rest of my days in a constant state of nothingness.”

“That is not what you have been saying.”

“To what are you referring?”

You sighed. “Jacaerys, I know you wish you had the opportunity to marry Baela. I am sure she knows it too. However, I do think it disrespectful to so openly complain about our courtship.”

Jacaerys knew what you were referring to. He ran his fingers through his hair, taking a deep breath while you continued to brush your hair in the silence.

“I did not intend for you to hear it,” he spoke.

“Evidently.”

“I know I’ve ruined things.”

You stopped your actions. You put your brush down, standing and walking over to him. “I only wish to please you, as your wife. I apologize that I am not the woman you intended yourself for.”

You touched his hand, holding it in your own briefly before taking residence on the bed.

Jacaerys watched you, unsure of what to do.

“You may join me, if you’d like,” you stated.

Jacaerys sat on the edge of the bed and turned toward you, giving you a small smile.

[flowersforjude]

𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem Cousin!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | You could not leave him. Not when your very breath was the only thing that kept him tethered to this world. 

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 1,433

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Arguing, Angry Jace, Desperate Jace, One curse word, Kind of hurt/comfort. 

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | This was requested by @intheheartoftheking. I had a million different ideas for this, but the inspiration wasn’t there for any of them. So, I hope this is to your liking! Also, Varaxs is the name I gave the reader’s dragon! 

masterlist

Sea salt kisses your cheeks as the gentle roll of the tide rushes below you. The familiar scent of your dragon fluttered in the breeze as the Dragon Keepers brought your ivory mount out to you. Varaxs growled deeply, as if mimicking the waves that crashed against the inky cliffs of Dragonstone.

Chills danced up your spine as the cold seeped into your bones beneath your riding clothes. The weather wasn’t what had you so chilled, though.

Nervousness burns through your mind. Has your eyes darting from the dragon pit to the palace looming behind you. Every howl of the wind and every tumbling pebble falling from the rocks, kept you on high alert of discovery. There were more than enough troubles to keep your mind occupied, but should anyone catch you here before you could depart, your plan would be all for nothing. 

The Greens had sent an assassin to take Rhaenyra’s life in the dead of night. Ser Arryk was unsuccessful thanks to his brother’s valiant efforts, which cost him his life. But even if the Queen was unharmed, the usurper must still pay for the cowardly attempt on her life. 

Rhaenyra still hoped for peace, though, and such wishes had her stalling her hand. You, as her stepdaughter and loyal subject, could no longer rationalize doing nothing. 

And so, you were going to King’s Landing.  

You dare not give thought to what could befall you once you’re there. But if death or something worse awaited you, then it would have been worth it fighting for your queen. 

The wind seemed to pick up with his arrival. You didn’t notice until a loud cry of your name sounded over the currents. You spin around and see your betrothed, Jacaerys, dashing towards you. Trepidation and unease flowed through you as you caught sight of his vexed expression. You hadn’t told anyone of your plan, and you thought you had snuck away with no one noticing your absence. But of course, it was Jace who figured it out. 

He’s still in his princely attire, the Targaryen colors displayed proudly. The deep hues of black and red had always complimented him in the most alluring way. His boots kick up clouds of dust and sand as he comes to a stop in front of you. His lips pressed into a hard line, and his jaw clenched in irritation. His hand gripped the hilt of his sword like he always did, but the knuckles were white with the forceful hold he had on it. 

“Jacaerys.” You greet, meeting those serious, dark eyes you’ve lost yourself in more times than you could remember. 

“What are you doing?” He asks simply, but the sharpness of his voice made it clear this was no easy matter. His eyes burned into yours as he stood just inches from you. 

“What do you think I’m doing?” You questioned in return. Deciding to let him reveal what he knew before you told him the whole of your plan. 

He scoffs and swallows thickly. “I am not certain, but I am sure that it is something reckless and not something that my mother approved of.” 

Shifting your weight in the sand, you thought about how best to proceed. “I was anticipating no one finding out until I was already gone.”

“Did you think I would not notice your absence?” He asks incredulously, his brows rising in disbelief. 

You shrugged. “I hoped it would take you a little longer.” A leaden sigh leaves your lips while the restless waters below you rage on. The light reflecting off the water shines like a beacon around Jace, and you have to battle against the longing ache that spreads through your chest. 

“Someone needs to scout King’s Landing. Gather what information we can.” You explain praying to the seven that he’ll understand. 

His eyes widened as exasperation ignited in them. “Have you lost your mind?” He exclaims, shaking his head of dark curls. 

“Jace-” 

“No,” he insists. “You’re not going. You’re not going to fucking King’s Landing, where you very likely will be spotted.” His jaw is tight, and his eyes are just as troublesome as the waters crashing against the rocky shores of the island. 

“Someone has to do something!” You argue back, your raised voice causing Varaxs, waiting in the landing pit, to hiss with displeasure at your growing distress. 

“And if you are captured? Slain? What then?” He sneered, a sudden thickness lingering in his words. 

You lose yourself for a moment. Imagining all the horrors that could come upon you should anyone discover you even somewhat close to the capitol. Aemond held resentment towards you and your sisters for what occurred the night Luke took his eye. And Aegon was a mindless drunk, but no less cruel than his brother. But thinking of all their treachery just made you all the more determined to do everything in your power to see Rhaenyra on the throne. And Jace, good-hearted, compassionate Jace, as the heir.

“I have to do this, Jace. And if I meet my end, then it would be worth it to see Rhaenrya and you reclaim your birthright.”

Desperation colors his features, his sharp expression melting to one of concern and tenderness . Something that stokes the fires of your affection for him. 

“I forbid you.” He finally declares after a long moment of silence. 

“Forbid me?” Your own frustration at last rises to match his. “You are not my king yet. You’re not even my husband yet. So unless you intend to tie me up, I will be leaving now.” 

You turn on your heel to approach your mount. Fully planning on flying off to King’s Landing before his voice breaks. 

“You cannot leave me!” 

You halt in your place, your throat growing tight upon hearing the sheer panic coming from him. Your hands twitch at your sides as the wind dies down enough to allow you to hear the ragged breaths sounding from your betrothed. Hesitantly, not wanting to be met with his distraught expression, you turned back to face him. 

Raw desperation swam in his eyes. His lips, that had welcomed yours in so many devoting kisses, parted with pleading breaths. He closes the short distance between you; his hand captures yours before falling to rest against his heart. Heat flashes through you where your skin touches his. 

When he speaks, his words come out breathlessly. “It is no secret between us my devotion to you.” The strong fingers of his free hand, calloused from all his hours of training, fluttered over your cheek with a touch as light as goose down. “But even before our betrothal, you were my guiding light. In the wake of all the chaos, there was you.” His normally collected voice cracks. He clings to his hold on you as if terrified of you vanishing from his sight forever. “My entire heart craves only a fraction of yours. Even if only a piece of you loved me, that would be plenty, because that would mean at least a part of you was genuinely mine.”

“Jacaerys.” 

His gaze flickers down to your lips before meeting your eyes again. “I cannot live in a world where you do not exist,” he professed. The air had been stolen from your lungs upon hearing his words. You were no fool to Jace’s affection; you returned it tenfold. But never had he confessed such adoration to you. 

“I cannot just do nothing.” You whispered, knowing he could hear you. 

He was nodding along with your words. “We will destroy them,” he vowed. “But we will do it together. You cannot not be so careless with your life, Issa jorrāelagon.” 

You do not wish to be labeled as rash or reckless, but the Greens must face retribution. For all the agony they’ve caused. You wish only to help your family win back the heritage that was stolen from them. One day, sit by Jace’s side as he rules with all the kindness and strength you know him to possess.

But he was right. 

You look down at his hand, holding yours to his heart. It beat as fiercely as dragon wings in the sky. Each pulse hammered in each nail of faith you had in him. “Together?” You coaxed meeting his eyes again and seeing determination mingling with his sheer devotion. 

“You and I will take back my mother’s throne.” He pledged, pressing a reverent kiss to your brow. “And one day I will take you as my queen, and we will rule together just as we are meant to.”

This was shorter than I wanted it to be, but I'm just glad I was finally able to finish it!

Issa jorrāelagon; My love

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Hi! I was wondering if you could do Jace x younger sister! Reader, where reader inherited her mother’s white hair and purple eyes and is very beautiful so everyone wants to vie for her hand. And Jace is rlly angry bc this is HIS sister(lover), she belongs to Jace and Jace alone.

fight for you

A/n: Hi! Love this sm. I didn’t rlly know what to do so this is just a short blurb. if you would like a longer version you’re more than welcome to req anyone one ): sorry

Warnings: possessive!jace, canon typical incest

MASTERLIST | KOFI

Ever since you both were younger, Jace had always been protective and possessive over you. He had always been by your side, fending others away from you.

No one else quite understood it, but you looked up into his eyes and he felt that urge to protect you from everyone else.

It never left him, not even as he got older and matured into a fine young prince. He had denied other peoples hands in marriage, all in hopes that he would get to marry you eventually.

As you got older, people had begun to realize your beauty, taking after the valyrian look. Many had asked for your hand in marriage, and they had always failed, your mother not accepting it.

Little did you know, it wasn’t because of your mother. Rather, it was because of your brother.

Every time he found out, he told his mother that the man was not fit, and that you would not be fit for him. He fought for you each time, finding every little detail he could about the men who attempted to take you away from him.

He could not have it. He would not have it.

Jacaerys would fight for you his whole life if need be, because you belonged to him and him only.

[earth4angels]

𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

modern!jacaerys x f!reader ─── smut, vanilla sex, jace is a mama's boy, a lil english major who's serious about his academics, basically a goodie two shoes. reader is an adventurous cheerleader babe. p in v, love making as secretly as possible with his family at home (i know theyre freaky). not fully edited.

summary: finals season has arrived and jacaerys is worried about his championship game and passing his classes. he just did not think you would change the way of how studying could even work.

jace nation tag list: @jacaerysgf @star611 @jules420 @intheheartoftheking @gracexthoughts @astrxq @reyndaisy @hxtd @smurfelle @nanaldy @valdezthg @littleblackcatinwonderland @nixtape-foryou @starrgurl46 @ethereal-athalia @stelleduarte @canyonmoon-2 @ambrosia-v-black @chuuritoz @melsunshine @frombloodandfire

“Get it together jace,” Jacaerys muttered, his hands running through his already messy hair. His fingers tapped rapidly through the page of his text book as if the answers were going to appear magically to him.

“Jace. Mom has been calling you to eat for the past fifteen minutes, you know she hates lateness,” Lucerys stood by the doorway of his brother’s room a slight smirk on his face as he looked at his brother who now slammed his face onto the book.

“Geesh… and I thought I was terrible, you’re even worse,” Luke joked. Jacaerys only moved his head to peek at his younger brother before he threw a pen at his head.

“Get out Luke, tell Mom I am no-“

“Tell me what exactly? If you think I am going to let you go to sleep without eating, you are absolutely wrong my dear,” Rhaenyra crossed her arms, a stern look on her face that had Jacaerys scrambling on his feet to meet her.

“Sorry mother,” he muttered, he scratched his neck before he twirled his fingers around, Rhaenyra sighed. She entered the room with soft steps, Jacaerys had now stopped his nervous ticks the moment he felt his mother’s touch.

“You got this my sweet boy. You’re the bravest, and smartest boy, I have raised you well. I know you will finish strongly, or am I wrong?”

Jacaerys widened his eyes, “No mother.”

Rhaenyra ran her fingers through the mess of hair, she smiled softly, “Now, wash up. Your brothers are waiting for you, Daemon bought that movie you and Luke begged him to buy.”

Luke exclaimed excitedly before he ran down the hall to the dining room, Rhaenyra and Jace heard him thanking their step-father over and over. They chuckled together.

As Jace scored the winning goal, the team swallowed him onto the ground, he groaned. He only wanted to see the one person that motivated him, that came to every single one of his games to cheer for him loudly that he felt no trophy could ever top the love he had for you.

The crowd cheered loudly, Jace managed to escape the sweaty bodies of his teammates before he was wrapped with a warmth so familiar, he knew it was you. He caught you in his arms the moment you ran up to him, your smile making him feel weak in the legs. He would bring the world and the stars for you if you’d ask.

Your pom-poms covered both of your faces as you leaned down to kiss him, since you had jumped on him, your legs wrapped around his waist - he held you up, his arms tightly holding your thighs, pressing you close. Your rosy lipstick now stained his already plump lips.

He groaned in satisfaction, you pulled away, giggling when he chased you for another kiss, “Congratulations Targaryen, you’re now going to the championship game.”

He smiled stupidly, from where he was looking at you, you looked like a bright star, your hair was held back by a headband that matched the color of his jersey. Your eyes covered in shiny glitter that he helped put on before the game because according to him, he wanted to try to put some on you. You were beautiful, and all his.

He leaned up to kiss you deeply, feeling your fingers dig deep into the slightly wet curls of his. The world vanished then, and Jacaerys wanted you more than ever, but it was not a place where he wanted to devour you.

You pulled away, he groaned again in annoyance, “Hold on tiger. You stink. And your mother and brothers are waiting to celebrate your win.”

He opened his eyes to see you with a teasing face, he narrowed his eyes in suspicion, you had a cunning smile. He did not want to question it yet so he placed you back onto the floor, without saying a word he took your hand interlacing it with his, both of you meeting his overly excited family that covered him in confetti. He thought life couldn’t get any more better than this.

His bed bounced as pushed his glasses upward, stopping them from slipping off his nose. He knew you were with him, but he paid you no mind as he mumbled the words from the slides to himself.

You leaned your head onto his shoulder, watching him study the same presentation over and over. You sat beside him, quietly biting onto your cinnamon roll that Rhaenyra begged you to take to Jace as well since she knew he was bound to skip dinner.

“Jace.”

“Hm,” he nodded his head slightly, letting you know he was listening to you. He truly was not though, he had a pen between his teeth biting on the top cap. You sighed.

“Jace.”

“Mm,” again he responded nonchalantly.

You rolled your eyes having enough. You took the laptop from him, shutting it close as you tossed it lightly onto his bedside table. You watched him widened his eyes, his arms reached to fight you but you beat him as you pushed him down onto the bed, sitting right on top.

His glasses moved upward, touching his forehead just a bit. You chuckled as he groaned in annoyance nonetheless his hands moved to hold your waist.

“Y/n… I need to study… you know I have to get good scores on the finals to keep my spot as top student.”

You smiled softly, your hands trailing down his chest to the toned body of his. His eyes fluttered, he enjoyed you touching him, he squirmed under you feeling his erection grow. He was shy to admit that even the slightest things you would do made him excited.

“You studied enough. You and I both know you’ll pass. Just how we also know, you will win the game,” Your fingers reached up to his face, pulling his glasses back to its original spot, you had always loved him with glasses. He huffed softly, his eyes moving upwards to try and avoid your strong gaze that had him digging his fingers softly into your waist.

“You’re only human jace, give yourself breaks hm?”

“I hate when you’re right,” he mumbled.

You laughed, tapping his nose lightly. His eyes moved back to your face, you leaned down to place a soft kiss on his nose you felt him breathe in deeply. He moved his head to reach your lips where he captured your warm lips with his.

You sighed into his mouth, enjoying the way his tongue licked your bottom lip. Your lips parted giving him access to taste you, he moaned when he got a taste of the sweetness from the bun you ate.

With his teeth, he pulled your bottom lip, sucking it lightly, you let him grinding your hip against his hardening erection hidden under the sweatpants you wanted to get rid of.

You rubbed harder, your panties now soaked from the need of wanting him. He let go of your lips as he let out a whimper. You sat on top still rubbing, twisting your hips in small circles to entice him. With half lidded eyes and small drool on the corner of his lips you wanted him so much more than before.

“Shh. I’ve got you,” you whispered, you ran your tongue down his neck finding a spot only you knew ruined him.

Right above his ear, in between his collarbone you placed a kiss and then you sucked hard, enjoying the small whimpers he let out. His hands working fast but clumsily pulling and tugging the straps of your sundress. He needed you, now.

He swallowed, “Please my love. Off,” he tugged the straps hard.

You heard a tear of fabric between your soft kisses that you left on his neck, you breathed in a laugh. You pushed him hard onto the bed, he grunted, you leaned back on your feet enjoying the flush on his cheeks, the curls surrounding him making him look angelic.

The sun was barely going down, and with the little sunlight still left, it touched Jace’s skin, his bright brown eyes covered by his slight fogged glasses from the amount of heavy breathing he was doing.

“Y/n… please…” he whispered, licking his lips watching you slowly tug down the straps, pulling down your bra as well. You watched him gasp slightly, taking in the view of the delicacy of your skin.

“Seven hells… how did I get so lucky?”

You hummed, getting rid of your dress completely, only sitting on top of him in your lace panties. He watched you hungrily, ready to bounce on you but held back, he wanted to take his time with you. Kiss all the little freckles on your body, find new spots that made you whisper his name as in a prayer.

He wanted to find all the new things that made your body quiver, flourish in his hands, his mouth. His mouth suddenly felt dry, he wanted to taste you so bad.

You smiled wickedly, your hand reached forward, grabbing his index cards he had also written to study. You looked through them fast before you tossed them somewhere on the floor.

Leaning forward, you grabbed his hands, placing them on your breasts, sighing blissfully when out of habit his thumbs flicked your now perked buds.

“Every right answer you give me, you’ll be allowed to touch me,” you whispered, smiling even wider when you felt him twitch underneath you.

Jacaerys was competitive, and he wanted to have you so badly but he also wanted to prove to you he was smart. He thought this was better than any study group he ever had, his fingers twitched against your breasts, wanting them deep in your cunt just to watch you bend in an angelic position, all because of him.

For once, he was greedy, he wanted to watch you have power over him. He licked his lips again, anticipating every moment that will occur. He thanked the old gods and new for gifting him you.

“First question,” you sat with his hands still on your breasts, enjoying the lust on your boyfriend’s eyes, the way sweat started to form on his forehead, the twitch of his eyebrow as he tried to read you, to the way his lips parted, his breaths coming out in sharp huffs.

“Name all the kings we had, from first king to now.”

Jacaerys struggled, he regretted now the position he was in, he couldn’t focus having you bare only in silk panties, your skin glowing, hair loose and curled at the tips. He just wanted to make love to you. He held his breath, his hands shaking, noticing, you smirked.

“Uh.. Um…” he cleared his throat, his eyebrows slightly scrunched together as he tried to think, “Aegon, the conqueror,” you hummed.

You let his hand go down the middle of your breast, to your stomach, hearing his breath hitched you stopped.

“I uh… Aenys,” he stuttered, finding it hard to stay still.

Again, you moved his hand to your navel, letting go of his hand as you waited for the rest of the answer to come out of your struggling boyfriend who remained obedient.

“Maegor, Jaehaerys, Viserys…” his voice straining.

You smiled, “Good job my love. See? The answers are flowing out of you.” You stood up then, he sat up quickly, his body in heat running with adrenaline from wanting you. Your fingers pulled the bands of your panties to slide them off your legs. Jacaerys’ mouth fell slack.

You tapped your finger to your chin as in thought, you moved as you spoke to sit on his lap, your legs spread on either side of his own. “Ah.. why is the reason that dragons are the symbol of the Targaryen family?”

Jacaerys tried, he truly did want to show off his intelligence but he couldn’t concentrate anymore. How could he concentrate when he had you on his lap, nude, your curls falling onto your shoulders giving you a glow so beautiful he was breathless.

“Seven hells y/n, I can’t do this,” he moved so quick you were startled that you ended up bumping your head onto his headboard. His eyes panicked, the lust from his eyes softening, “Baby, baby i am so sorry!”

You laughed loudly, taking his face into your hands where you pulled him to give him a kiss. He moaned into your mouth, his hands pulling your hands above your head, interlocking it with his.

“You didn’t answer the question Jacaerys,” you muttered into his lips. He moaned in annoyance over the fact you kept pulling away from him when all he wanted was to shower you with love.

“No offense, but you talk a lot my love, I just want you,” Jace fluttered his eyes, looking down on you his light brown eyes shadowed with a mischievous glint that had you swallow.

“Yeah?”

He nodded, his glasses sliding down more, you pushed them up again, his curls were a mess and damn… he looked ethereal. He was all yours, the pride in your chest swelled as as the love you felt for him did too.

You both smiled at each other before he kissed you again, his lips grazing your cheeks, eyebrows, forehead, everywhere he could touch, you giggled. Jacaerys felt like he could fly, the need to feel you, to connect with you felt heavy on his head.

He took a moment to observe the environment, he was quick, in a moment he heard everything, the laughter of his younger brothers, the sound of his mother talking over the phone. His cheeks blossoming crimson, the idea of having you while his family were so close bought an excitement to him.

He nibbled on your neck before whispering, “We have to keep quiet, mom…” he paused, feeling embarrassed, “anyone can hear us if we’re loud.”

You smirked, feeling the heat boil, “then try not to make me scream out,”

Jacaerys pulled away his eyebrows furrowed as if you said something offensive, “Oh? If i don’t, then I am not deserving of you my angel.”

Everything happened so fast, Jacaerys felt like he only blinked for a second, one second he was tasting you, leaving small marks on your neck then he was under you again, his chest bare, his boxers suddenly feeling hot.

You sat on top again, licking your lips admiring the work you made, a wet kiss on his chest turning red. Jacaerys felt sweat drip from his forehead, he needed to have you, now. But, he knew the reward would soon calm if he was patient - though he did not want to wait.

“Tell me my love, why are dragons the symbol of your family? If they are myth, why is it symbolic?”

Jacaerys rolled his eyes as his head tilted back, “Are you… Are you serious?” he whined, he thought he escaped this.

You tighten your lips together to hold back from laughing, “Oh i am serious babe. Now answer, or else.. I’ll go downstairs and play with Joff, i’ll ignore you all day.”

Jacaerys for the sake of his bulge feeling like it was ready to explode, tried.

He closed his eyes, scanning memories of the information he studied, “It was said that Targaryens are closer to the gods due to their faith in old traditions. Dragons are a symbol of power but also peace. Our family-“ suddenly he hissed, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

Your teeth pulled the band of his boxers down, as your hand’s massaged the muscular thighs of his, you paused when you heard nothing but hard breathing, “I didn’t tell you to stop Jacaerys.”

He whimpered, “Dear gods…” he cleared his throat, “Our family symbol being dragons is to remind us of our history, to remind us why helping our people is also building a foundation for a better future, that is why our law firm is uh-“ he moaned when he felt your lips kissing up his toned chest.

“Our law firm is the most popular, and is one of the first establishments holding a strong position in justice.”

You stopped, Jacaerys was breathing hard as if he had ran through a marathon, “You really need to stop overthinking you won’t pass your exams, you are smart.”

Pressing a slight kiss on his lips, you sat up again, “Good job baby,” you moved his shaky hand to your body again, however Jacaerys had other plans, he sat up meeting you face to face.

“You are the world’s best person to ever grace us, I am so lucky to have you,” he whispered all the while his fingers grazed the apple of your cheeks, you couldn’t avoid the amount of love his eyes held you just needed him. The sexual tension between you was too strong to ignore.

“Jace..”

He pushed your hair back, his eyes mapping out the beauty marks on your face. You were so beautiful, he would never once stop repeating it, “I love you, with every ounce of my heart,” and that was when your heart flew out of your chest.

He laid you onto his bed, both of you shaking with need to have each other. His lips traced every bump, every inch of your body until he reached the valley of your breasts. The metal of his glasses making your skin crawl with goosebumps.

“All mine,” he whispered. His fingers traced the perky buds of your breasts before he took one in his mouth, moaning as if he was having the best dessert - in a way he was. Your body lifted from the bed, mind clouded with him only.

“Jace,” you pleaded now, needing him to stop his slow pace, you just needed him inside you. You felt him shudder at the way you said his name.

He pulled back, your eyes shaking in need but Jace was worse, his eyes filled with need, hidden behind those glasses of his he was overwhelmed with the love he had for you.

You felt his bulge nudge your core causing you to tilt your head back, moaning softly, you heard the gasping of your boyfriend who struggled what to do next. He never wanted to rush into things but he needed you, he wanted to explore more of you but he just needed to be inside, to carefully love you and show you.

You made the decision to guide him, you and Jacaerys were not always active, majority of your relationship was very innocent and you didn’t complain, simply being in the arms of your boyfriend was enough. Jacaerys only needed you close to feel the love you felt for him as he did you.

He never disrespected you, always showed you respect and love in small and big ways. His family adored you, with his mom already calling you her daughter she never had. Daemon adored your stubbornness, mentioning how you reminded him of his younger days. To Jace, that was enough.

So when you guided him inside of you, feeling the tip of his erection inside you, both of you gasped, holding each other in desperate need of love. He shook in your arms as your legs wrapped around his waist, he didn’t move feeling too overwhelmed from your heat.

“t’s okay,” you whispered, your heart full, and as you locked eyes with the one man who you swore your life to, he pushed all the way in, the tears seeping from your eyes.

He held you in his arms tightly, whimpering as you tugged the wet curls of his, pulling out and pushing in with such care that had you breathing out choked sobs from the love you felt. He only prepped small kisses, whispering the love he held for you.

“I love you, I love you,” he whispered into your mouth, his hands wiping the tears from your cheeks, feeling his own pool. Your fingers marked half moons onto his shoulde blades, marking beautiful trails of your love as he pushed into you harder, faster.

You removed his glasses then, finally coming to face his eyes that were scrunched together in concentration and if it was another occasion you would’ve laughed but you kissed his face holding onto him as your noses bumped into each other clumsily.

“You feel so g-good,” he muttered, his hand holding onto your right hand, you said nothing as you took him in, feeling the little bubble in your tummy ready to release.

“J-Jace,” you stuttered, squealing when he finally hit that one spot inside you, “OH! Don’t stop… donnn-t stop.”

He knew you were close, you held onto his hair tighter, your eyes rolled onto the back of your head as you bent your neck all the way back displaying your entire neck to him. He pushed harder, making it a mission to have you see stars, he watched you carefully, hearing how you muttered his name like a prayer.

He was so close, but he held back, his cheeks were warm, as he felt the need to come inside you with just watching you wither in his embrace. All that was heard was the bed squeaking, the headboard of his bed slamming against the wall, and as much as he wanted to keep it quiet, he couldn’t. He just needed you.

“My pretty angel, all mine,” he whispered again, he had let go of your hand reaching down on your sensitive bud where he rubbed in circles, you moaned loudly and he reacted so fast he covered your mouth with his as he swallowed your slight screams.

He felt the stutter of your hips and the shocks that your body was going through, and suddenly he felt the tightness of your warmth wrapping him hard that his chest felt on fire.

He closed his eyes allowing the pleasure to sweep him out of the world, with one last push he allowed to come inside you hearing you sigh in bliss, your body still shaking, the tears dry on your cheeks.

You held Jace against you, brushing his hair back, hearing him try to level his breathing back to normal. You did not want him to pull out of you but you needed to pee.

He kissed your breasts before he slowly pulled out, both of you shuddering, he then kissed you deeply. He said nothing, but neither did you, both of you basking in the love.

You watched as he pulled you into his arms, carrying you into his bathroom, he looked beautiful. You sat in the toilet as he prepared a bath, and took the moment when he went to get you clothes to pee.

When he came back he had a hoodie of his and a pair of boxers for you to wear, you childishly made grabby hands, he chuckled before he pulled you to the bath tub with him.

The silence was comfortable, until a thought hit you, “Jace?”

You leaned your head back to look at him, he was smiling with his eyes closed, “Yeah?”

“I think.. I saw Luke’s feet at some point by the door,”

Jace snapped his eyes open in a panic, one look at you, who looked at him with your own set of eyes that held panic, he laughed loudly, you joined him.

Lucerys did in fact stopped by his brother’s door, he only wanted to ask if you wanted to play mario’s kart, but that flew out the window when he heard his brother’s moans. So he sat in the family room with a traumatized look on his face thinking he wished dragons were real so he can ask to get eaten instead.