#hotd jacaerys

[idkyetxoxo]

Jacaerys Velaryon - Crown of Devotion

Summary - A newly crowned king and queen share a passionate, intimate moment, shedding their royal facades in favour of raw connection. But as their love intertwines, the arrival of their children shatters the tranquillity, pulling them back into the warmth and chaos of family life.

Pairing - Jacaerys Velaryon x reader

Warnings - Sexual content (smut!)

Word count - 2114

Masterlist for Jacaerys • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

The heavy doors to our chambers closed with a soft thud, sealing us away from the echoing cheers and ceremonial splendour. 

As the noise faded into a distant murmur, Jace turned to face me, a lopsided smile tugging at his lips, his fingers brushing the golden weight of the crown now resting on his brow. 

The light of the room glinted off the intricate metal, making his dark eyes seem even more alight with emotion.

"My King," I teased, my voice playful but reverent, as I sank into an exaggerated curtsy, my skirts pooling around me. 

Before I could rise fully, he crossed the space between us, his touch gentle yet insistent as his hands closed around my arms, pulling me upright with a strength that was both commanding and tender.

"You never bend for me," he said, his gaze piercing, a blend of vulnerability and authority that left me breathless. 

There was a depth to those words, an unspoken plea that lingered in the space between us. 

I couldn't help but smile, catching my bottom lip between my teeth, savouring the closeness of him.

Rhaenyra had chosen to step down from the throne, surrendering her crown after years of relentless ruling. 

She had guided the realm through both fire and peace and now it was time to pass the torch. 

The coronation had been grand, steeped in tradition and solemnity, but all of that had melted away. Here, within these walls, it was just Jace and me—king and queen in the eyes of the realm, but simply ourselves to each other.

With deliberate care, Jace lifted the crown from his head, the weight of kingship momentarily set aside. His eyes never leaving mine, he placed it upon my head. 

I felt its unfamiliar weight settle against my brow, the cool metal contrasting with the warmth rising in my cheeks. 

My hand instinctively reached up to remove it, but his fingers intertwined with mine, strong and unyielding.

"Jace, this isn't right," I whispered, my voice trembling between protest and awe. He shook his head, a soft laugh escaping him as he adjusted the crown, his touch lingering in my hair.

"You are my queen," he murmured, each word laced with devotion. He leaned in, pressing his lips to the curve of my neck, and I felt the warmth of his breath against my skin. 

"If I wish the crown to grace your head, then it shall rest there," he declared, his tone unyielding, as though daring the universe itself to defy him.

His fingers traced the delicate ties of my gown, each movement unhurried, as though savouring the anticipation. The silk slid away from my shoulders, pooling around my waist as he guided me gently toward the bed. 

Our steps were slow, every moment charged with the unspoken weight of what was to come. 

When my back met the softness of the sheets, I felt the cool press of the crown against my brow—a reminder of what had passed, and the man who stood before me.

Jace's gaze was dark with desire and reverence, a storm tempered by tender restraint. He stripped away his own garments with a swift grace that spoke of longing barely held at bay. 

For a breathless moment, he paused, his knuckles gliding along the curve of my cheekbone, a touch both reverent and possessive. 

The intensity in his eyes made my chest tighten—this was a worship, a claiming, an intimacy deeper than any decree.

He leaned in, his lips capturing mine with a fervent, searching need. His mouth was soft but unrelenting, tasting, teasing, coaxing my own response until we were breathless. 

His hands explored me, each caress an invocation, a promise. My skin ignited where he touched as if he were etching the memory of this moment into every inch of me.

As his fingers trailed lower, teasing, exploring, I gasped, my body arching beneath him, seeking more. When he parted my thighs, his touch was a whisper, a slow, lingering torment that left me trembling with desire.

"Will you let your king have you?" he murmured, his voice low and rough with need, the words brushing against my ear like a caress.

A shiver ran through me, and I splayed my hands over his chest, feeling the rapid drumbeat of his heart beneath my palms. 

"Your queen demands it," I whispered, my voice trembling with want.

His lips curved into a smile, a flash of mischief and devotion before he shifted, his body aligning with mine. 

As he pressed forward, every movement was deliberate, savouring, the slow joining of flesh that felt like the meeting of souls. I drew in a ragged breath, the sensation overwhelming, a blend of pleasure and the intoxicating awareness of being completely known.

He moved with a rhythm that spoke of both tenderness and unbridled passion, every thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through me. 

My arms wrapped around his back, feeling the taut strength of his muscles as he moved. The world dissolved, reduced to this moment, this connection, the feel of him within me, around me.

"Gods, Jace," I moaned, my eyes closing as my senses were consumed.

"Yes, my queen," he murmured against my neck, his lips and teeth marking me, a brand of his devotion. 

His movements quickened each touch and kiss deepening the bond between us, weaving passion with reverence, strength with vulnerability. 

We were more than king and queen, more than lovers. In this sacred, stolen moment, we were simply and utterly us—bare and unbreakable.

The heat between us built with a relentless intensity, each movement drawing us closer to the edge. 

Jace's body moved against mine with a rhythm that sent shivers down my spine, his every touch igniting new flames across my skin. 

Our breaths mingled, heavy and ragged, each gasp and moan echoing in the chamber, a symphony of passion and need.

I could feel him tremble, the tension gathering in every taut muscle as we climbed higher together. 

My fingers dug into his back, holding him closer, urging him on as if the closeness itself might not be enough. 

The crown upon my head felt like a distant weight, nothing compared to the sensation of him—the warmth of his skin, the press of his body, the way his name spilt from my lips like a prayer.

"Jace," I gasped, and in his eyes, I saw the same desperation, the same all-consuming need.

We surged together, bodies and souls entwined, moving in perfect harmony as the crescendo built. It came like a wave crashing over us—raw, powerful, and infinite. 

Pleasure shattered through me, and I felt him pulse within me, his release intertwined with my own. Our cries mingled, echoing in the sacred space that was ours alone. 

I clung to him as he held me, our bodies shaking, breaths mingling in the aftermath of bliss.

Slowly, he lowered his forehead to mine, our eyes meeting in the quiet that followed. There was a reverence in his gaze, a softness that spoke of more than words ever could. 

I traced the line of his jaw with trembling fingers, feeling the roughness of his skin and the warmth that radiated from him.

As the aftershocks faded, I lifted my hands to the crown resting upon my brow. It was heavy with meaning, with duty and tradition—but here and now, it was simply a symbol of us. 

Carefully, I removed it, my hands steady despite the lingering tremor in my limbs. I met Jace's gaze, a smile spreading across my face, bright and unrestrained.

Without breaking eye contact, I placed the crown back upon his head. It settled there as if it had always belonged, glinting in the dim light. 

He looked at me with surprise, and then something softer—gratitude, love, perhaps even a touch of awe.

"There," I whispered, my voice still breathless but laced with warmth. "It suits you, my king."

His lips curved into a slow, genuine smile, one that reached his eyes and made them glimmer. 

"And it will always suit you," he replied, his voice tender, wrapping me in its warmth as he pulled me close once more.

We lay back, tangled in the heat of each other, relishing the stolen quietude of the night. It felt like the world outside had faded into nothingness, leaving only the two of us suspended in this perfect moment. 

But then—a sudden, loud bang on the chamber doors shattered our brief escape.

Jace's eyes widened, meeting mine in startled disbelief. Before we could even exchange a word, another thundering knock reverberated through the room, followed by a small, familiar voice. 

Panic mixed with stifled laughter as we realized who it was. We exchanged a quick glance, our eyes wide with the shared knowledge that we were teetering on the brink of being caught.

Scrambling to pull on robes, our movements were nothing short of a comedy of errors. My arm got tangled in a sleeve, and Jace nearly tripped over the hem of his garment as we rushed. 

By the time the doors swung open, our breaths were still coming fast.

There they stood, our two little ones—Lucerys and Alyssa—clad in their sleepwear, looking impossibly small against the vast doors of our chamber. 

Alyssa's curls were wild and tangled, and Luke's eyes were wide and pleading.

"What are you two doing up?" I asked, my voice softer now as I scooped Alyssa into my arms. 

She snuggled against me immediately, her tiny head resting on my chest, her warmth a familiar balm.

Luke, meanwhile, wasted no time clambering onto the bed, settling himself comfortably in front of Jace as though it were his rightful place all along.

"We can't sleep," Luke declared, the words escaping in a pitiful sigh. I exchanged a knowing look with Jace, my own exhaustion momentarily forgotten.

"Ah," Jace said, crossing his arms and feigning sternness though his eyes danced with amusement, "perhaps that has something to do with the fact that both of you snuck more strawberry tarts than you should have?" 

He tilted his head, one eyebrow arching in mock accusation.

I couldn't help but chuckle. I poked Alyssa's little round belly, earning a dramatic grumble from her as if she were the most wronged child in the kingdom.

"But we were celebrating," Alyssa protested, her lower lip jutting out in a pout that was both endearing and devastatingly effective. 

I frowned, my expression mirroring mock severity as I turned to Jace. But I caught sight of him biting his lip to stifle his laughter, his shoulders shaking slightly. The game was lost.

"Celebrating, were you?" I said, my voice filled with mock disapproval as I stroked Alyssa's hair. "And just what were you celebrating?"

"The coronation!" Luke piped up, his face lighting up with pride. "We stayed up to watch the lights in the sky. You and Father are the King and Queen!"

I pressed a kiss to Alyssa's forehead and Jace reached over to ruffle Luke's hair, the pretence of sternness long forgotten.

The room felt smaller somehow, filled with warmth and love, the weight of the world momentarily forgotten as the two of us just gazed at our children.

"You know," I said softly, "I think that's the best reason to stay up late I've ever heard." 

Alyssa let out a sleepy yawn, her tiny fingers curling around the fabric of my robe. I tucked her a little closer, pressing a kiss to her temple, and she smiled sleepily, her eyelids fluttering closed as if she had found the perfect spot in the world to fall asleep. 

Luke, no less content, had leaned against Jace, his head resting against his father's chest. 

The gentle rise and fall of Jace's breathing seemed to soothe him, his small body relaxed against the warmth of his father.

In that moment, the entire world could have come crashing down, and it wouldn't have mattered. 

We were here, together. The three of them—my children, my husband—our hearts intertwined in a perfect, silent understanding. 

The chaos of the world outside felt so far removed as if nothing could touch us in this space. 

Jace's hand found mine beneath the blankets, squeezing it gently as though reminding me that this was everything. 

Our family, our love, and these simple moments that felt so much like eternity.

"Well," Jace said, his voice warm with affection, "if royalty cannot sleep, perhaps it is our duty to stand watch with you." He patted Luke's head and the boy giggled.

With a shared look, we adjusted the covers, making room for two more little bodies. 

In this chaotic, sleepy pile of limbs and laughter, our chamber transformed from a place of royal significance to the cosy haven of a family that refused to let go of its love.

A/n - I don't think i've ever written king Jace before which is just crazy unless i'm lieing then ignore this 😩 

[hisfavegirl]

Your Reaction When You Caught Them Cheating On You.

Pairing : Aegon Targaryen, Aemond Targaryen, Jacaerys Velaryon, and Daemon Targaryen.

Thanks to @zaldritzosrose for letting me using your beautiful dividers.

Aegon.

The moment you stepped into the apartment, something felt off. The air was thick, heavy, filled with a scent that made your stomach turn.

And then you heard it—the breathy moans, the unmistakable sound of skin against skin, the low groan that belonged to only one person.

Aegon.

Your blood boiled. Your vision blurred at the edges, your heart pounding violently in your chest. How dare he? In your home? In your bed?

You didn’t hesitate. You stormed in, slamming the door open so hard it rattled on its hinges.

There he was.

Aegon. Naked. Flushed. Some nameless whore beneath him, her hands clawing at his back.

For a second, the room froze.

Aegon’s head whipped toward you, his pupils blown wide—not just from pleasure but from pure, raw panic.

“Shit—”

He barely had time to react before you grabbed the closest thing—a lamp—and hurled it at him.

He dodged, rolling off the bed, yanking the sheets around his waist.

“Fuck—wait, wait—”

You didn’t care. You wanted blood.

“YOU DISGUSTING, LYING PIECE OF SHIT!” Your voice was raw with fury, your chest heaving as you advanced toward him.

The girl—that pathetic excuse of a woman—scrambled away, covering herself as she rushed out of the room. You didn’t even spare her a glance.

This was about Aegon.

“Our bed?” Your voice shook, but not with sadness—with rage. “In OUR fucking bed?”

Aegon held his hands up, stepping back.

“Listen, I was drunk—”

“DON’T.” The warning in your voice made him flinch.

“Baby, please—”

Your palm met his cheek so hard his head snapped to the side. His lips parted, his breathing uneven, but he didn’t stop you. He knew he deserved worse.

Tears burned behind your eyes, but you refused to cry. Not for him. Not for this.

“You are nothing to me,” you hissed, voice low and shaking with fury. “You hear me, Aegon? Nothing.”

His face crumpled. For once, he had no smirk, no cocky grin, no excuse. Just the weight of his own stupidity crushing down on him.

You turned on your heel, marching out, slamming the door behind you.

And Aegon?

He just stood there, breathless, shaking—realizing too late that he’d just lost the only person who ever truly loved him.

Aemond.

The apartment was quiet. Too quiet.

Your keys jingled in your hand as you pushed the door open, stepping inside. Something felt… wrong. The air was thick, suffocating, carrying a scent that sent a violent chill down your spine. Perfume.

Not yours.

Then, you heard it.

A muffled moan. A deep groan—his groan.

Your breath caught in your throat.

No. No, he wouldn’t. Not Aemond.

But then it happened again. Louder. Needier. The unmistakable sounds of skin against skin, hushed whispers, a bed creaking under movement.

Your bed.

Rage ignited in your chest, burning through your veins like wildfire.

You didn’t hesitate. You stormed toward the bedroom, shoving the door open so hard it slammed against the wall.

And there he was.

Aemond.

Naked. Flushed. Muscles tense as he hovered over someone else, his long silver hair falling over his face as he turned toward you. His good eye widened in horror, his lips parting as if the air had been knocked from his lungs.

“Fuck.” His voice was barely above a whisper.

The girl beneath him shrieked, scrambling to pull the sheets over herself. You didn’t even look at her. She wasn’t the one who had made you a promise.

This was all Aemond.

“You bastard.” Your voice was deathly quiet, but your fury filled every inch of the room.

Aemond immediately pushed away from the girl, grabbing the sheets to cover himself.

“Listen to me—”

“LISTEN TO YOU?” The rage exploded. “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?”

Something shattered inside you. Something that could never be repaired.

He had promised you. He had sworn that you were his and his alone. That you were the only one he wanted.

And yet—here he was.

“This wasn’t—” He took a step toward you, desperation painted across his face. “It didn’t mean anything—”

Your laughter was sharp, poisonous. It meant nothing?

Then why did it feel like he had just ripped your heart out of your chest?

You grabbed the closest thing—a glass on the dresser—and hurled it at him.

He barely dodged it, the glass shattering against the wall behind him.

“I gave you everything,” your voice cracked, filled with raw, bitter rage. “I fucking loved you, Aemond.”

His face twisted in pain, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“I still love you.”

That was the last straw.

“No, you don’t,” you spat, stepping back. “You love yourself. You love power. You love control. But me? You don’t love me. Because if you did, you would have never done this.”

Aemond reached for you, but you recoiled like his touch would burn you.

“We can fix this,” he pleaded.

You shook your head.

“You can’t fix this. You can’t fix us. Because you ruined us.”

Tears blurred your vision, but you refused to let them fall. He didn’t deserve your pain.

Without another word, you turned and walked away.

And Aemond?

He just stood there. Naked. Ashamed. Broken. Because for the first time in his life, he had lost. And he knew, he would never get you back.

Jacaerys.

The apartment was quiet when you stepped inside—too quiet.

No greeting. No footsteps. Just an eerie stillness that made your stomach twist.

Then, you heard it.

A low, breathy moan.

At first, you froze, your brain refusing to register what your ears had just picked up.

But then it came again. Louder. Needier. Jace’s name falling from someone else’s lips.

And suddenly, you were moving.

Storming down the hallway, heart hammering, blood boiling, your vision tunneling in on the bedroom door that was slightly ajar.

You didn’t stop. You didn’t hesitate.

You threw the door open so hard it slammed against the wall.

And there he was.

Jacaerys Fucking Velaryon.

Your Jace.

His bare body tangled with someone else’s. His golden skin glistening with sweat, his muscles taut as he hovered over her, his name tumbling from her mouth like a prayer.

He turned instantly, eyes wide, mouth parting—completely caught.

“Shit—”

Your breath hitched. You felt sick.

Something inside you snapped.

“What. The. Fuck.”

Your voice was low, deadly—the calm before the storm.

Jace scrambled off her, reaching for something to cover himself, guilt flashing across his face.

“It’s not what it looks like,” he blurted out, but even he knew how pathetic that sounded.

Your laugh was sharp and humorless. “Not what it looks like?”

Your eyes burned. Your hands trembled. Your whole body shook with unfiltered rage.

“Then please, Jace. Enlighten me.”

“I—” he swallowed hard, running a hand through his messy curls. “It didn’t mean anything—”

“Didn’t mean anything?” You took a step forward, and he actually took a step back. “You had sex with someone else in our bed, and it didn’t mean anything?”

Jace opened his mouth—but no words came out.

Because what could he say?

There was nothing that could fix this.

Your heart ached.

But your rage burned hotter.

Without thinking, you grabbed the nearest thing—a glass perfume bottle from the dresser—and hurled it at him.

It shattered against the wall just inches from his head.

“FUCK!” Jace flinched, but he didn’t fight back.

He just stood there, guilt twisting his features, regret darkening his brown eyes.

But regret meant nothing now.

“You swore you loved me,” your voice cracked, but your fury swallowed the weakness. “You swore I was the only one.”

“You are—”

“Don’t you fucking say that.”

You pointed a trembling finger at him, rage and betrayal making your whole body shake.

“If I meant anything to you, you wouldn’t have done this.”

He took a step toward you, desperate, pleading.

“Please, just—just let me explain—”

But you were already gone.

You turned and walked out, slamming the door behind you.

And Jace? He didn’t chase after you.

Because he knew.

He had ruined everything.

Daemon.

The moment you stepped into the apartment, you felt it.

That sick, gut-wrenching instinct. Like a predator sensing danger in its own den. The air was thick—too warm, too heavy, too wrong. And then, you heard it.

A sultry moan. Feminine. Breathless.

Not yours.

Your blood ran ice-cold, then boiled over in the same second. No.

You moved before you even thought, storming down the hallway, throwing the bedroom door open with such force that it nearly ripped off its hinges.

And there he was.

Daemon.

Your Daemon.

His bare back flexing, silver hair falling into his face as he hovered over someone else. Someone writhing beneath him, moaning his name like it meant nothing.

Like you meant nothing.

For a moment, everything froze.

Daemon’s head snapped toward you, his violet eyes widening in shock.

“Fuck—” His voice was raw, startled. Caught.

The woman beneath him gasped, trying to cover herself, but you weren’t looking at her. You were looking at him.

At the man who had sworn himself to you.

The man who had lied.

White-hot fury ripped through you like wildfire.

“You fucking BASTARD.”

Before you even knew what you were doing, your hand grabbed the nearest thing—a candle holder from the dresser—and you hurled it at him.

It barely missed his head, slamming against the wall and shattering into pieces.

Daemon was already moving, already reaching for you.

“Wait, listen—”

“LISTEN?” Your laugh was pure venom. “TO WHAT, DAEMON? TO YOUR LIES? TO YOUR BULLSHIT?”

Your vision blurred, rage flooding every inch of your body.

You shoved him—hard. He stumbled back, but he didn’t fight it.

He didn’t even cover himself. He just stood there, naked, unashamed, but his face was twisted in something that almost looked like regret.

“It was just a mistake—”

“A mistake?” Your hands shook. “A fucking mistake? What part of this was a mistake, Daemon? When you kissed her? When you touched her? When you fucked her in our bed?”

You couldn’t breathe.

The pain was so sharp, so raw, you almost choked on it.

“You were everything to me,” your voice cracked, but your rage swallowed the weakness. “I loved you. I CHOSE you. And you—”

Your throat closed up. You couldn’t say it.

Because saying it would make it real.

Daemon exhaled sharply, his hands curling into fists. He didn’t move. Didn’t argue. Didn’t beg.

Maybe because he knew nothing he said could fix this.

“You don’t get to touch me,” your voice was deathly quiet, dangerous.

“You don’t get to love me. You don’t get me."

And just like that, you walked out.

And Daemon?

He let you go.

Because for the first time in his life, he had no excuse.

And for the first time, he had lost.

Tag list : @danytar @hangmanscoming @julessworldd @yazzzmints @giirlinblack @searatarg @vaelry @callsignwidow @ashblooddragons

[jbtbas]

Jacaerys' unfortunate baby clothes

[nemesyaaa]

this is so yummy like oh my god 😭😭‼️ i love this kind of sub jacaerys and powerful reader. so well written, i was so into it that i was so sad it was this short but tysm for this work 🥰 i missed the hotd and jacaerys fandom so much ??!

"My love, please..." Jace begged, trying to lift his hips up to get a little more friction between your bodies. "P-please..." — when a man begs...when the prince beg...im gonna fuck myself, i want to ride him until he cries too 🥹🥹🥹

"F-fuck!" He whimpered, trying to push your hand away from his chest, but your hand gripped his neck before he could push you away, his cock pulsing again as you caressed his sensitive nipple and applied pressure to his throat at the same time. — this is truly so gooood

"You dare think about another woman while you are inside my cunt?" Your growl made him close his eyes again and whimper, before looking at you with a sad pout on his pretty lips. — i want reader too at this point

"I am so sorry, my love..." Jacaerys moaned, looking at you with eyes filled with crystal clear tears. You stopped for a while, watching his handsome face and ran your tongue over the other sore rosy nipple, nibbling with little pressure before lifting yourself up, rubbing your own clit so that Jacaerys could feel your cunt crushing him. — the way he keeps saying my love. and he's definitly so sensitive when it comes his nipples 😫😫😫 give it to meeeee

Tears ࿐ྂ Kinktober. 10, oct.

— pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fiancée!reader

— type: smut, Kinktober (House of the Dragon Edition)

— kink: nipple play + cockwarming

— summary: Jacaerys had a perfect betrothal with his younger sister. But everything changed when you found out about his past affair with Cregan Stark's half-sister.

— word count: 798

— tags/warnings: kinktober 10th day, Targcest/Velaryon Incest (older brother/younger sister), Targaryen/Velaryon!reader, Rhaenyra and Harwin's daughter!reader, nipple play, cockwarming, punishment, degradation, past infidelity, choking kink, loss of virginity, curse words, dacryphilia, crying, masturbation, sadism, sub!Jacaerys, dom!reader, Cregan Stark mentioned, minor Jacaerys Velaryon x Sara Stark, porn with plot. no use of y/n. english is not my first language.

— tagging list: @baybaybear1 @blessedbymoon @p45510n4f4shi0n @lina-lovebug @moonnicole

— crossposting: AO3

You were on top of Jacaerys for hours. You were on top of him, without riding, without making any movement, your focus being solely on reading a random parchment that your Mother had asked you to give to your Stepfather Daemon later.

Your body had been still for so long that you could feel your thighs starting to go numb. But you were not bothered at all. The discomfort in your calves was worth it when you could hear the pathetic little noises coming from Jacaerys' lips. The lack of action was making him panic, his thick cock becoming more and more painful inside your warm tight cunt.

Before all this, he pictured several ways of what it would be like to take your virginity. How you would look when he thrust himself inside you, when a little amount of your blood dripped onto the sheets, when you looked at him wide-eyed and scared as he began to fuck you faster. He pictured your moans resounding through the chambers.

Jacaerys pictured so much action and so many sounds. And now he was receiving only your stillness and almost lack of interest. He knew you were doing it on purpose, not allowing him the satisfaction of turning yourself into a mess just for him.

Jacaerys knew why you were keeping his cock inside you, even though you were not riding him, just focused on any other task. And he knew how much he deserved all that.

If only he had not betrayed your trust and slept with Sara Snow...

"My love, please..." Jace begged, trying to lift his hips up to get a little more friction between your bodies. "P-please..."

Your hands went straight to his thick and muscular thighs, pinning his body to the mattress and preventing Jacaerys from continuing his efforts to thrust inside you.

"Stop moaning like a stupid whore." You growled, throwing the parchment to the floor and looking at him with disgust, your dark hair like his, but long covering your breasts. "That's what you learned during your stay at Winterfell, was not it? Besides how to warm your face between the full breasts of northerners women..."

Jacaerys closed his eyes, a mixture of embarrassment and also lust. He did not want to get more horny when he remembered the nights with Sara, but it was impossible when you brought up his infidelity during the act. Or a near-act.

The way his cock twitched and pulsed within your walls did not go unnoticed by you. That made you angrier than you already were, your hand moving up to his bare chest below yours, taking the small, soft and almost flat nipple between your thumb and index finger, squeezing it and earning a startled cry from Jacaerys.

"F-fuck!" He whimpered, trying to push your hand away from his chest, but your hand gripped his neck before he could push you away, his cock pulsing again as you caressed his sensitive nipple and applied pressure to his throat at the same time.

"You dare think about another woman while you are inside my cunt?" Your growl made him close his eyes again and whimper, before looking at you with a sad pout on his pretty lips.

"I am not thinking about anyone else, I swear this to you..." It was not a complete truth and you knew it. You frowned and leaned over, making the slightest movement on top of him so you could face his chest, removing the grip on his throat so you could focus your attention on licking the nipple that was not being caressed by your fingertips. "Oh, Seven Hells..."

Jacaerys hated himself in that instant. He hated himself for cheating on you. He hated himself for letting rumors fly so fast across Westeros. He hated himself for being interested in Cregan Stark's half-sister while he already had a perfect betrothal with a perfect fiancée waiting for him in Dragonstone. He even hated himself for being so horny while you were humiliating him, even though he deserved every second of everything you wanted to do to him

"I am so sorry, my love..." Jacaerys moaned, looking at you with eyes filled with crystal clear tears. You stopped for a while, watching his handsome face and ran your tongue over the other sore rosy nipple, nibbling with little pressure before lifting yourself up, rubbing your own clit so that Jacaerys could feel your cunt crushing him.

"I know you are." You mumbled half-heartedly, before smiling sarcastically at your fiancé and older brother, your gaze so bitter that he had to take a deep breath, understanding that not even the fact that he was the heir could free him from your anger and resentment. Jacaerys knew he was lost and depended on your mercy.

HOTD Edition - Masterlist

Criminal Minds Edition - Masterlist

Venusbyline's Kinktober 2024 - Masterlist

[lchufflepuffcorn]

Nesting head canon

Requested here by the 🥰anon!

Note : I've changed computer and now I don't know how this thing works. I'm so sorry if anything happens, I'll try to correct any mistake as soon as possible! Keep in mind that English is not my first language, so be kind if you want to correct me (or else😶‍🌫️).

Masterlist

Dragon!Hybrid masterlist

Warning : Minor DNI. Spicy content ahead, consider yourselves warned. Aemond : Mention of penetration (reader receiving) Laenor : Mention of penetration (Character receiving). Fingering (Baela Recieving). Dry-humping (Jacaerys doing it). Sub-ish Laenor cuz I can. No official gender references for the reader.

Aemond: 

Nesting™ for Aemond is not something that will change his way of acting toward you, not to the outsiders eyes, anyway. He’s pretty minimalistic in his approach. He’ll spend more time with you, touching your shoulders or the small of your back more often. Fleeting touches of his fingers brushing yours as you walk before wrapping your arms to his. If he even thinks that he saw you shiver from the cold, he will give you his jacket/cape/scarf/etc menacingly. He’s clingier, in the way that before, he could manage to have you roam all of the King’s Landing castle with only people at his booth giving him notes on your whereabouts. When he’s nesting, he has to have you next to him, or if he really cannot be with you, with Helaena. He doesn’t trust anyone else with you but his sister, his sister’s guards (because she’s the princess, and then the queen) and himself. 

He will rearrange the chambers and keep it cleaner than it already is during that period of time. The cushions would be comfortable, soft, the linens clean and fresh at all times. The room (especially the bedchamber) would smell of your favourite scent, the bed itself would have draps covering it from unwanted eyes, but shear enough so that the room outside would be visible if any kind of lights are lit. Aemond would also make sure that you are fed enough, going as far as to have snacks readily prepared for you next to the bed. 

I also see Aemond being softer with you when he’s nesting. 

Kisses shared as he moved inside of you, hands caressing your face, you chest, hips then legs, as if Aemond doesn’t know where to place his hands the most. The candlelights make his eyes shine with more adoration that you’ve seen from him than he’s had for weeks now. His hair, stuck in a braid you’ve treaded falling over his shoulder swinging with each wave made by the movements of your bodies intermingled together. His patch still ornating his face, he shivers and sighs when your lips leave his and trail all over his face. His hips still when you reach the dark patch over his maimed eye. 

“Qelos…” He breathes his pleas softly, one of his hands reaching for your face, putting a bit of distance between the two of you to examine your face. 

“I want to see you.” Your voice nearly makes him whine (weak, Vhagar growls at the voice in his mind). Aemond’s breath hitches when you make the two of you roll over to sit on his lap. He can feel himself piercing deeper into the warmth of your body, and the prince let his face fall in the crook of your neck, a soft moan of your name escaping him. 

Using his moment of inattention, you slip the patch covering his eye off of his head, leaving it on the pillow behind him. You kiss his scar, the corner of his eye, words of praise mingling with sighes of pleasure. Aemond could never imagine a more perfect being as you. 

Baela:

To Baela, nesting is the way to confirm and end a courtship. She knows that it will come back multiple times in her life and that it’s also used to achieve the catch of future hatchling within her. She could become pregnant outside of nesting season, but it’s easier when she is then when she’s not. And it’s a big deal to her. Everything needs to be perfect, she has to show you how good she would be to your hatchlings. Hence, she’ll pull all the stops. 

Baela would learn to crochet if you shivered, she’d hunt for a fur to add to your collection. Banquets would only serve food you like, your room would be cleaned and redecorated to fit the latest interest you’ve shone toward anything really. You would only find the softest material on the bed, and she would have upped the security of it with guards posting at the door and down the hall. She probably will also have hidden dagguers in many places, just in case. She's not clingy in public, but she cannot take her hands off of you in private, and she gets scary angry when someone interrupts your private session. 

You could never had been prepared to the dichotomy of Baela’s character as you were busying your fingers inside of her, pumping softly, kissing her shoulders as she writhed under you, moaning praises to you wantonly, and the snarl that echoed throught your bed chambers, freezing you in your position when her father (whom you hadn’t heard knock, if he had done so) entered your space. 

He didn’t seem bothered by the lack of cloathing he found you in, nor did he seem impressed by his eldest daughte’s fury. He spoke in valeryan, which you couldn’t understand, and promptly covered baela and yourself with the furs scattered on the bed. Baela spat something back to her father, dragon wings popping into existence, shielding you from further sight. Daemon rolled his eyes, added something that made your lover huff before he left, giving you a proud(?) look. 

“What was that about?” You asked once the door of the room was closed once more. Baela only sighed, plopping down on the soft pillows, her leathery wings sprawled on each side of her. 

“Father had been searching for us, the servants didn’t want to bother entering our room, they had an invitation to a banquet to announce. He thought he would be best if he told the news instead.” You nodded at her explanation. 

“And was it? Best, I mean.” 

Baela’s gaze fell on you, her eyes roaming over your naked body for a second before she shook her head. 

“Don’t worry your pretty head over it, my brave Rider. Dragons have respect for other dragons, and their mates.”

She rose from her lying position, trapping your face with her hands and kissing you, not letting you wonder about the meaning of her words much longer before starting your previous activities once more. 

Jace:

To Jace, nesting is all about your comfort. He becomes much more overbearing and worried about your wellbeing, even in moments that aren’t warranting it. If you didn’t spend much time apart to begin with, say goodbye to your alone time altogether at this point. 

He doesn’t let anyone else touch you, even your help, he’ll wash you. Hell, he’d spoon-feed if you’d let him (you’re not). And if he could justify it, you wouldn’t leave the bedchambers at all. There is no reason why Luke and/or Rhaena would need your attention more than he does!  

Jace’s nest would be one of the more chaotic ones, however. Sure, it’s made out of the nicest materials he could find, and all of your favourite things surrounding it, but it’s not in your bed, rather in the room that contains all of your clothes, behind the bed, where it’s more protected. It’s on the ground (but he’s made a soft surface so that it’s comfortable, he’s not an animal!!) and he freaks out everytime a servant tries to go inside the small space during his nesting period. 

“I still don’t understand why the bed is not acceptable.” You were muttering, neck thrown back as he placed a multitude of kisses on the skin of your neck, careful not to leave any (visible) marks there. A grumble left his chest, his dragon’s tail swapping the air around you 

“Safe.” He (or maybe it was Vermax) muttered against the skin of your neck, not even bothering to look up at you. You hummed, letting your hands tangle with his hair, eliciting a purr from him. 

“I know it’s safe, but from what? There’s about a thousand knights sworn to your mother present on the castle’s ground alone.” You teased. 

Unpleased by your words, Jace nipped at your shoulder, purring at the small sound of pleasure that made past your lips. He pressed his clothed body against yours, letting you feel his hardness as he rubbed himself on one of your legs. “Jewels need to be protected.” He breathed softly, teeth playing with the lobe of your ear. You hummed, contracting your leg to tease him. 

“Of course, darling.” It was no use to try and have him make sense right now.  

Laenor:

With Laenor it changed after the fiasco of his first nesting with you. But he always was very present and protective with you, making sure you were comfortable and had everything you would need at any point in reach. When he’s younger, he would muddle the courting rituals and the nesting instincts. 

Laenor was quite proud of this year’s nesting. He’d rearrange your shared bedroom so that the pile of comfortable and plushie material that usually served as a nest was in the corner, with  good sight on the door and an easy acces to the hidden door. He’d even had you scent (unknowingly) his favourite dress shirt. And now, he had you pounding into him, dripping sweat and puffing warm air into his neck and he purred incessantly. 

You’d willingly meet him inside of the nest, without asking questions and without having him coaxing you inside of it either. It was the first time it happened. You were becoming quite knowledgeable in dragonkin tendancies as time passed. A far cry from the child you were, unsure and hesitant about every action you did. 

“Ah… How come it’s with me you spent that time?” You asked, breath coming out short, his back arching as he felt your appendage hit his prostate repeatedly, a string of moans cutting his answering short. 

“You want to know now?” Laenor’s not sure if he should be insulted or preening at your curiosity. 

Your hands placed on his hips, you made him meet your mouvement sharply, and another pathetic endaring sound made it out of his lips. “Maybe not.” You chuckled, capturing his lips again with your own. 

Rhaena:

As her nesting instinct developed later in lifeshe might have been surprised by it. She is also pretty minimalistic with it, not understanding why she would do it anywhere else but in the bed (Jace does NOT give good advice.) She’s very conscious of your confort, and loves having your scents intermingle with eachother inside the nest. So be prepared to find clothes under the covers of your bed during this time period. 

I don’t think she’ll be very assertive or protective of you, per se, more so of the nest itself. It’s also not a reflex she has to protect it from the three little ones she’s taking care of for her aunt. Aegon III, Viserys and Joffrey have free passes when it comes to your nest, as she sees them as her own. 

“Rhaena.” 

Your grumbled echoed in the darkened bedroom of the essos manor you were currently invited to occupy,trying to wake the limp form cuddled at your back with an arm thrown haphazardly in her direction. The back of your hand hit something once, twice… three times before a groan answered your call. “What?” 

She nuzzled into your neck, both of you naked from your previous night, and with eyes groggily looking at the sad juvenile face pouting at you from outside the warm barrier of the bed, you tugged the covers closer to you. 

“There’s a child here.” 

Rhaena’s quick to raise her head from her pillow, looking over you to the white-haired little boy with fat tears threatening to fall from his eyes. She curse underher breath, exiting your bed and searching the ground for something -anything- to cover herself with. Rummaging throught the mess of linens you offert her a long shirt, unsure if it’s hers or yours, and uncaring at this point. You let her deal with Aegon, searching yourself for something that would make you more presentable before lying back down in your bed. 

It’s a good while after that Rhaena comes back in the bed, followed by the child, who settles between the two of you, content. She smile apologetically and you shrug. They might not be yours by blood, but they act like your children, so what if they spent time cuddling with you to find comfort? 

Taglist: @lady-dragon-rider or @lady-dragon-rider-2 (I don't know which one now..)

[brynnsasha191]

THIS IS SO BOOK!JACE AND BOOK!LUKE

[natsdraws7]

Though his fifteenth nameday was still half a year away, Prince Jacaerys proved himself a man, and a worthy heir to the Iron Throne.

[venusbyline]

I'm an older sister and I'm sm shorter than my little sister, and it's soooo funny see other siblings duos like that lmaoooo

like if Luke hadn't died, probably he would be taller than Jace, just like Aemond is sm taller than Aegon too 😭😭

I just saw this on Pinterest and I want to believe that Jace was standing like that and Luke copied him. brothers your honor

Please bring the boys back, dont take them both away

[dreammfyre]

the heir's favorite ⋆ jacaerys velaryon

SUMMARY. You are the first daughter of the marriage between your mother Rhaenyra Targaryen and your father Daemon Targaryen. Always the most rebellious and difficult of all, temperamental, impulsive. However, weak before the temptation to possess your older brother, the crown prince Jacaerys Velaryon, a knight par excellence, the opposite of you. But no one in Dragonstone imagined that you shared much more than dragon's blood.

WARNINGS. +18 Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!oc. Targaryen incest (brother and sister). Jacaerys aggressive and dominant. Smut. Based on the second season of House Of the Dragon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE. This was a suggestion left anonymously in the messages, so I invite you to leave yours. Thanks for reading.

The empty room was so quiet that you could feel your thoughts could be heard all over the place. The full moon illuminated the dark sky, standing out against the stars that night where everyone was resting in their chambers, but you were unable to lie in your bed, much less fall asleep without having nightmares. The Stone Table was where everyone met daily to discuss strategies for the war that was being unleashed in Westeros, but now that empty place was strange, so much silence and loneliness. The extinguished embers did not illuminate the tabletop, you touched the stone expecting to burn, however, it was totally cold.

"Who's there?" a familiar voice entered the place. You turned immediately finding Prince Jacaerys, your older brother and heir to your mother's throne. "Sister... it's very late."

"I know, you should be resting." You replied walking towards him.

"It's a bit complex lately." He took the luxury of joking, in response you smiled without much encouragement. "May I know what you're doing here?"

"Not much. Seems to me you're not the only one who doesn't get any rest." You lifted your shoulders casually. "Any news on your rounds?"

Jacaerys shook his head in disappointment, pacing around the table resting his hands on the handle of his sword without taking his eyes off you, analyzing your presence carefully, as if silently judging you. You rested your hands on the stone of the table relaxing your body on your arms, but your head couldn't stop scheming hundreds of thoughts and bloody imaginary scenarios regarding the war.

"Cole's army is getting bigger and bigger and we don't have a damn clue about anything." You said with a tense jaw. "And about my father..." you sighed deeply without looking your brother in the face "no word from him for days."

"That's not your fault." Jace tried to make you feel better with repeated kind words, but your guilt was growing and the anguish of the approaching war wouldn't leave you alone. "Daemon is not the priority."

"That idiot should be here, on the island, with his queen and his children." You whispered angrily. Then you looked up resolute in your decision. "I'll go see him tomorrow."

That didn't sit well with your brother.

"Don't talk nonsense, Visenya." The heir scoffed. "You can't go to Harrenhal alone, it's too dangerous and we don't know if the way is clear."

"You think I'll arrive by land alongside Daemon's imaginary army?" you sneered in the same condescending manner, a brazen gesture that made Jacaerys' blood boil. "I will ride Vermithor's back at dawn and arrive before the sun peaks. I will return the same day with news before the queen."

"That's a lousy idea!" Your brother exclaimed angrily. Grabbing your arm with brute force, forcing you to look him. "How can you even think of traveling alone to lands we don't know if they are enemies or allies?"

"We need to move fast before they come for us, Jacaerys." You squirmed under his grip feeling his fingers bury into your pale skin. "Do you intend to wait for my father to return?" you managed to break free from his grip with difficulty, Jacaerys ran a hand through his wavy hair desperate not to talk sense into you. "Because you may take a seat, I will not be accompanying you."

"Visenya, please understand the magnitude of your stupidity." He begged, chasing you from side to side. Your brother knew how impulsive you were, and how hard it was for you to get an idea out of your head, no matter if it was good or bad and in this case it was a rather dangerous one. "What happens if you cross paths with Vhagar in the skies?" The prince raised his voice to you demanding and imperative trying to intimidate you, anyone passing nearby could overhear your discussion. You turned your back to him, you didn't want to look him in the face out of embarrassment because deep down you knew his words were true. "You have no business there!"

"I have no business here either!" you exclaimed with the same intensity. You were temperamental by nature and now you were blowing off steam. "I'm tired of staying cooped up on the island, waiting for others to figure things out! I'm a dragon rider, and I'm constrained by these walls."

Your brother understood that feeling better than anyone, he grabbed you by both cheeks, covering your face with his firm hands.

"I know how you feel, Visenya. Believe me, but walking out at the first impulse is not the solution, don't you understand?" You put your hands over his, looking at him intently. You wanted to nod to answer him the question he asked you, but you were mesmerized in his nearness and his breath hitting your face. "Stay here, with us." He watched you carefully without letting go, losing himself in the sense of his pleas to look at you closely, you were so beautiful in any light no matter how dim, a Targaryen through and through with bright, intense violet eyes of long white hair like your parents. Jacaerys couldn't help but stare at you, the half-open lips tempting him to taste you, trying not to lose what little composure he had left. "With me."

You possessed the ethereal beauty of your mother and the complex character of your father, Daemon Targaryen. Under your little ethics and impulsiveness you did not think if it was a coherent idea and you threw yourself to kiss the thick lips of your brother who reciprocated instantly, none of them reasoned, they only moved to the rhythm of the kiss where their moist lips brushed anxiously. Your brother's hand on your waist took you by surprise, more so when he pressed you against his body bumping you against his chest and cornering you against the table.

"Go to sleep." Jace scolded you making an attempt to stop kissing you, but you kept reaching for him. "This isn't a good place."

With a smile you ignored knowing the only way to stop the situation was for you to go to your quarters and you didn't feel like leaving. You grabbed her hair tangling your fingers in her chestnut curls, Jacaerys strength intimidated you, but it wasn't enough to stop you.

"Don't go to Harrenhal." He pleaded leaving kisses on your neck, tracing a wet path over your skin taking advantage of inhaling your scent. "Do it and I promise I will warm your bed every night."

You felt a shiver run down your back at his offering, Jacaerys kept leaving kisses until he reached your collarbones uncovered by the neckline of your dress. His warm lips made your heart beat faster, you grabbed him by the face stopping him.

"Would you do that for me?" you asked with dangerous innocence, watching his glossy swollen lips.

"Do you really doubt it?" he answered against your ear, then brushed his nose against yours slowly, you left a short kiss on his lips almost by instinct, so tender and unexpected that you heard a laugh come out of the prince.

"I'll think about it." You whispered touching his chest, playing with the textures of the fabrics, his agitated breathing gave him away, having you close was a personal challenge for the prince. It was a lie, you weren't going to think about it, you just wanted to give him what he needed to hear to stay with you.

Jacaerys' big hands began to take hold of your body squeezing you tightly making you gasp, then you lifted your chin giving him access to your neck, the kisses there unsettled you in a special way and only your brother knew it, taking advantage of your weakness, listening closely to his breathing and feeling the warmth of his breath was much better. Everything about him you liked, and you were missing him lately. The pressure and uncertainty of the war had taken your head elsewhere, you had abandoned each other for valid reasons, but at that second you just wanted to give yourself to him one more time.

You stood on your tiptoes to gain a little more height reaching for his ear, your brother tensed at the delicate touch of your hot tongue against his lobe, you licked delicately knowing that it turned him on, he confessed it to you one night and you never forgot it. A deep moan of satisfaction came from his throat, then carefully, you lowered one of your hands straight down to his pants, positioning yourself over his hard member that was pressing against the fabric.

"This is not the best place." Begged the prince resting his forehead on your shoulder. "We are in a sacred place, you know?"

You cared little for his insistence or decency when you only wanted to shout his name, though you knew Jacaerys was asking you to stop for the sake of not failing in duty, not because the desire wasn't there. No one understood the reason why Rhaenyra did not cancel the stupid engagement between Lady Baela and the right Jacaerys, no one could deny that they could become blameless kings for the history of Westeros, but there would never be the tension and burning desire throbbing as when the fire was unleashed between you. That first time with a taste of sin, you begging him not to stop, that it was going to become a one-time secret that his parents would never find out, a secret they couldn't help but repeat between your sheets and his, in the hallways and in the library.

Desperate, your brother lifted the skirt of your dress with your help by grabbing your leg and pulling it up to his waist. The mere contact made you moan from the pleasure, you clamped your mouth shut to keep from making noise, you were too sensitive and needy and Jacaerys liked to have you under his control. You were always sarcastic, upset and nasty, just like your dragon, but Jacaerys Velaryon knew how to control you.

"What are you going to do if someone finds out about us?" You asked with bated breath. Deep down it was important to keep the secret guarded to keep it. Jacaerys' fingers stroking between your legs making you jump, clinging to the heir's neck and leaning against the table. "What are they going to say when they find out the crown prince fucking his sister."

His fingers slowly moved up and down, playing with your slimy wetness between his fingers. The mischievous grin on the chestnut's face only reflected the satisfaction of having managed to have you like this, so submissive to him.

"Does it scare you?" he whispered against your moaning lips. With his other hand he gripped the back of your neck tightly, so you wouldn't move. "They're going to find out you're my spoiled sister." Two of his long fingers began to search for the perfect place to insert themselves into you. You stirred under his grip settling in for him, your desperate breathing needing him to finish his work, but he seemed very calm provoking you with his words. "Do you know what they'll call you?" he bit your lip, pulling it towards him. "The heir's whore." His fingers slipped inside you so easily, sliding into your wet insides gushing moans from your chest as you felt him move in and out of you. Jacaerys took your leg his free hand clutching his fingers to your thigh preventing you from closing before him.

At the first loud moan you covered your mouth immediately knowing you were attracting attention, the sensation between your legs was stronger. You squeezed your brother's shoulder getting used to the movement of his fingers inside you.

"Don't yell." He ordered uncompromisingly. He had to kiss you to shut you up, which served you a few short minutes. You were losing your mind, your legs wanted to close but Jace put his foot down to stop that from happening.

"Jacaerys." His name on your lips excited him more than anything else, for it was the tone of desperation that mirrored your desire. To know that he controlled you and you were under his dominion with how arrogant you were, that no knight owned you, that everyone desired you for being Rhaenyra's spoiled daughter, but you were his, no matter an arranged marriage or duty was enough. "Mmh." You ran your hand over your face, desperate to keep silent fighting against your body that was beginning to tremble as his fingers went faster.

But for an ego like Prince Jacaerys Velaryon's it wasn't enough. Listening to you enjoy yourself on the Stone Table where every day they met to discuss war strategies was the most satisfying image to his eyes and he was not going to be able to forget it. The way you moved, dragon-like, the sweetest and most desperate noises came from you, none of the whores he had been with compared to the delicacy of a pureblood Targaryen. A unique and unrepeatable privilege.

When your breathing became erratic and the murmurs incomprehensible swearing you were going to reach that peak, Jacaerys came to a screeching halt chastising you. You opened your eyes in disappointment and fury, your heart leaping out of your chest and your legs damp and trembling.

"Be a good sister," he stroked your cheek with the gentleness you deserve to be treated with. You were trying to listen to him but you were so upset you just wanted to insult him for doing that to you. "Turn around."

Your hair stood up at his tone of voice demanding and conciliatory at the same time. As obedient as ever, just for him, you turned your back to him as the prince busied himself with pulling down his pants that were pressing against the erection he was trying to contain. Your heart wouldn't stop pounding, you could still feel his long fingers inside you and the wait, however minimal, was becoming eternal and torturous. You looked sideways at the entrances of the place without finding anyone, but the truth is that you didn't care if at that moment the queen arrived and found them like that, the euphoria and adrenaline was taking over your body and your reason, the overflowing desire had taken your actions. You felt Jace's hands sneaking up your skirt, careful where to touch, looking for just the right position to enter. He stood behind you, your dress pulled up over your back, the mere touch made you moan. You were so wet it was slipping from your entrance.

"Don't say anything." He told you and you nodded, you were capable of begging if necessary, though deep down you knew he enjoyed it making you obey. "Tell me if you want me to stop."

You closed your eyes as you felt Jacaerys slowly push behind you. You took a breath and tried to relax, you both moaned slowly, the prince tensed his jaw and clenched his teeth to keep from making noise, he stayed still for a few seconds searching for your hips digging his fingers into your skin trapping you in that position, moving you back and forth to better thrust. The rubbing of his member on your walls felt warm and wet, an invasion of your body, you were so used to his size that the sensation became familiar, literally. Some of the pieces of stone you unintentionally threw away, that was going to be a problem for later, because now the noise of their bodies colliding was beginning to consume you. The control he had over you didn't bother you, he gripped you tightly taking over everything. Her hips moved with yours instinctively in a delicious back and forth.

"Like this." You gasped with closed eyes and a satisfied expression. You reached for his hand under your dress and clung to him as tightly as Jace clung to you.

His length pumped in and out of you at a rapid pace, but this time, Jacaerys made sure each thrust was deep by ramming his pelvis into your buttocks.

"What a pleasure to meet again, don't you think?" his question was punctuated by your same panting without stopping moving. You weren't able to answer, your high-pitched moans were getting louder and louder, putting both of you at risk. On the other hand, he was breathing heavily. You had to cover your mouth with your hand, biting your palm to stifle your own moans of pleasure at having him inside you.

You started to stir but you were trapped in his hands, he knew you well enough to know what to do, you turned to look at him finding the heir ramming you with force and speed, his hair fell in curls that moved to the rhythm of his rhythm, when their gazes met for a second he stared at you, your face sweating, your eyes bright with a frown of supplication and red cheeks were enough to have no mercy. Your entrance was tightening at the same time you couldn't breathe, that feeling of a wave invading your insides begging for more desperate to reach orgasm. Jacaerys took your with one hand your waist and with the other your hip, encasing his fingers preventing you from escaping, you were in this together and you had to finish it.

You moved your arm and disarranged the pieces on the board. Now you could hear your brother moaning, cursing you for being his undoing and the greatest of his sins, making you his own feeling the power to mark you and deflower you breaking any tradition that governs the Targaryen nobility. It felt so good that you could confess your love to him just so he wouldn't stop. Luckily for both of you, he didn't stop, the rapid movements and the pressure forming in your lower stomach was getting out of control, the noise intensifying from the collision of your bodies and your knees seemed to lose any kind of strength to hold you up, luckily the table was there to support your body, plus your brother who wasn't going to let you fall. Until you couldn't manage to resist anymore, your orgasm came first like a shiver throughout your body, you closed your eyes tightly and watching you exclaim his name in screams of pleasure ended the infinite torture of the heir that took a few seconds to wait.

"Shit." Your voice hopefully came out of your dry mouth. You had your chest against the weight crushing your breasts, one of your hands intertwined with your brother's who was rebounding behind you.

You both took a second to take a breath and assimilate what you had just done, you had promised not to fall into carnal sin again and that's why the last time was several months ago. You leaned on the table with both hands coming back into yourself with your chest heaving, your brother's hands were still in the same place but he was no longer squeezing you with the same possessive intensity. Your hair was falling on both sides, tousled from the movement and your legs were begging you for a rest.

Jacaerys caught his breath, but his heart had not calmed down at all. His body was still experiencing those chills and that unique tension, he took a step backwards out of your body to get dressed. You immediately felt the fluid trickle down the inside of your thighs, dripping slowly down your hot skin.

"Are you okay?" Jace asked pulling up his pants, his movements a little uncontrolled as the adrenaline was still pumping. You nodded fixing your wrinkled dress. It wasn't the first time it had happened, you both knew what it was, that meant you would have to have tea the next morning.

"Looks like I'll be staying."

Your older brother smiled, fixed his hair pulling it back and moving closer to kiss you again, this time slower and softer, trapping your lips with his so slowly that you relaxed. You took his face kissing him again, his scent, his warmth, his bearing that forced you to lift your chin to reach your mouth, the softness of his lips, it was the most comforting sensation you knew.

"Go rest." He whispered without opening his eyes. Tidying your hair behind your ear.

"Okay." You replied in the same tone, so obedient and submissive before him, kissing for the last time his mouth following your movement. "Good night"

Leaving him was complicated, but you were satisfied with the encounter. As you walked you felt the burning between your legs, a reminder that was to last a couple of days that he had made you his once more, that was the greatest secret they kept hidden, they had forgotten for a moment the war between families, the political problems, duty and order.

Jacaerys Velaryon watched you go, silently picking up the sword he had dropped to the ground. That simple symbol that he was capable of abandoning his duty as prince for you, he staked his honor and his word for taking you. He stayed a while longer tidying up the mess they had created, arranging the pieces of stone in the place that corresponded according to the figure, picking up from the floor some that fell without realizing it. It was he who always assumed the role of responsibility for cleaning up the mess and pretending nothing had happened. How was he going to show up tomorrow at this very spot knowing he had relations with Visenya, the spoiled and arrogant princess, right there?

He only hoped Daemon Targaryen would never discover that his daughter was the heir's favorite if he wished to one day ascend the throne.

[jacesvelaryons]

Can you write something about Jacaerys velaryon x targaryen wife reader

Where she gives birth to a baby that looks like jace and it bothered alicent but they don't care? :3

Saving Face (Jacaerys Velaryon x Targtower!Reader)

(a/n): i’m sorry this request took over a year but my, what a great idea! i hope you like it

word count: 3.0k

summary: with what was supposed to be a happy moment in the new chapter of your family with jacaerys, only wounds linger when your mother is unhappy with your child's appearance.

warnings: slight angst, family tensions, complicated family relationships, implied incest (the targaryen way), not alicent hightower friendly

request status: OPEN

The joy of his newborn child is nearly eclipsed by the fear that his beloved would be called to face the same humiliation his mother endured upon his birth.

Even in distress, his beautiful wife still looked otherworldly silver hair spun in gold, and with her pale lavender eyes, he would not have that ginger sucker of joy to rob him from this life changing celebration. His relief that his beloved survived the precarious birth, worried about her lithe frame and the prostration it weighed on her during the pregnancy.

His little boy, his beloved son, a fragment of the other half of soul and his own. He is perfect, with his ten little toes and fingers, and he is all his.

Jacaerys is thankful his mother was in the birthing room with him and his wife, breaking protocol (as always) to be with the mother as she went into labour. Without her, he thinks he would’ve been hysterical and lost his mind without her guiding hand and comforting presence in seeing Y/N in distress.

“Where is my mother?” Y/N cradles the babe to her breast, as he suckled in his mother’s warmth and he feels his heart drop to his stomach as her face contorted in disappointment.

The child yearned for nourishment, and the midwives guided the young mother so she could feed the child with her milk.

The Dowager Queen remained unyielding even as her step-daughter arose as Queen, and she was still given some privileges even with her dispute with his mother. The marriage of Jacaerys and Y/N, her youngest daughter, was made as a desperate attempt to patch the two sides together and make peace as his mother sat on the Iron Throne.

Her mother attended the wedding, wearing a dark muted forest green that still appeared obsidian in certain angles, but the flame patterns could not be missed on her gown.

A mockery indeed as if she did not accept his mother’s ascendance to the throne and wanted her small rebellions in forms of cloth, he would not grant her the satisfaction of his reaction, for the sake of the realm and his wife, her daughter. It would be too scandalous to do so.

When his beloved was called abed, all pretense of dignity and calm collapsed underneath him. Whatever confident front he had broke apart as fear consumed him, sweat dripping from his forehead, hands shaking, heart beating wildly as he realized his wife was to cross the barrier between life and death to birth their child.

Seeing Y/N’s clean white robes stained the bed in scarlet as she quickens and the pain increases as the babe nears reminds him of the chills whenever he walks the path from the princess’ chambers to the queen’s, the same path forged in blood when his mother then Princess Rhaenyra, the crown princess and heir to the Throne, had to face the humiliation called upon by her stepmother, now Queen Dowager Alicent.

His blood boils when he sees the auburn former queen walk that path meekly nowadays on her way to see her daughter, as if it was all an act when she had pulled rank and caused so much suffering to his beloved mother. Jacaerys fears his wife, now the Princess of Dragonstone will have to walk those same halls, perform the same walk of shame and mummery with all the courtiers of the Keep to bear witness.

There is no possibility he will allow her to endure the same, he would bring fire and blood to all of Westeros shall she have to face that, yet it brings him relief when he reminds himself that woman is no longer Queen but his mother is, Queen of her own right and first of her name, and yet all the same, that woman is also his mother-in-law, mother to his darling. And grandmother to the child that shares his blood.

Jacaerys never left the side of his wife even when her birth continued onto the hour of the wolf, his hands intertwined with her own, assuring kisses on her temple and cheek and encouraging her when she would cry she wanted to relent. Across from him stood his mother, whose locks resembled her half sister and his wife, an experienced mother who has felt such joy and such sorrow too, with a maternal comfort gained with experience.

He would not allow a woman filled with hate to the brim in her heart to rob him of the joys of fatherhood and the relief of his wife safe and sound after such birth to their babe. Jace felt relief like no other when he began to see the dark haired head of the child crowning, and the guttural, final scream she exerted as the child exited her womb.

Jacaerys comforted and whispered assurances of gratitude and encouragement to his lady wife, that she be reminded how grateful he was of her efforts to grow their family, of her devotion and love for him, and fulfilling her duty with nothing but grace, peppering kisses all over her flushed face.

As he caressed the fine hair of his child much like own while he fed from his mother’s breast, his elated expression dropped as if in a chilling reminder when she asked for her mother. As despicable as that woman was, he could not deny her wishes if it brought her reprieve. Jace smiled and promised her that she would be coming and has been informed of the birth of her new grandchild.

When Y/N was beyond earshot, he approached the young midwife with a hardened gait, grinding through his teeth. “If the Dowager Queen wishes to see the prince, she will make her way here herself. She can walk, can she not?!"

While his wife was preoccupied and in isolation during the last few months of the pregnancy, Jace had made efforts to convince his mother to move the Lady Alicent to the second floor below the palace where the current royal family lived. “To remind her of what she’s done to us and may feel the pain we have endured.” He told Queen Rhaenyra, who was hesitant but accepted afterwards.

Jacaerys marched his way outside the ornate doors where his wife and their babe rested, raising his chin and standing with his chest puffed out, a cold indifferent expression, back straightened and fists clenched white as his wife’s mother made her way up the stairs with difficulty.

In the years since her queenship, the then young queen had begun to develop striking pain all over her body, especially down her spine and legs no matter what the maesters or foreign healers would advise. Jacaerys thought it was fitting for when he would make his mother walk up with him and his newborn siblings, bleeding across the hallways and staircases due to the green queen’s attempt to humiliate them.

Perhaps he is his mother’s son, as diplomatic, gracious, intelligent and cunning as he may be, grudges linger.

He could hear a pin drop as the auburn haired woman nearly stumbled down the final stairs and tripped over her gown, with a few septas rushing over to assist her but he showed no commiseration.

The doors swung open as Alicent limped towards her daughter’s bedside, slightly softening in consolation her daughter was safe in childbirth and the child was kicking like a goat.

“Praise the Mother, my girl.” She brushed her blood-smeared fingers over her silver hair shakily, whispering. He did not miss the glimpse of disappointment when she noticed the dark brown hair of the child, even when the boy had her pale lavender eyes.

Alicent cleared her throat, avoiding the gaze of those around her. “I see that the prince strongly resembles his father.”

Jacaerys’ eyes narrowed in suspicion, instinctively reaching towards the pommel of his Valyrian steel sword. “Is that supposed to be a problem, Dowager?” He stomped forward, hovering above his wife and child.

“Not at all, my prince. He is a handsome boy-”

Queen Rhaenyra noticed the tension beginning to develop and interrupted with a smile. “She means no ill, Jacaerys. Merely an observation.”

“An observation?! She wished to have us named as bastards to replace you as heir with one of her spawns and humiliate you.” He raised his voice, accusatory at his mother’s former adversary, and he could feel Lucerys next to him, pulling him away to calm him.

His wife Y/N, exhausted and delirious from the birth, began to grow pale and overwhelmed from the commotion around her, just as her babe broke out in tears and wailed. The Queen ordered everyone but Jacaerys to exit the room and give the family their space. The door shut with a thunderous thud.

…

Hours later, the midwives finished cleaning up the afterbirth, bathed and cleaned the lady and the child before they both fell asleep in new linen sheets and fed.

Jacaerys never left his young family’s side, despondent he had lost his cool, distressing his family during a vulnerable moment, turning what should have been a celebration into an altercation.

He cringed as he could only imagine what the murmurs and whispers about his behaviour and the events that followed with his wife’s mother would share about him. He had brought this upon himself and his family.

AS Y/N began waking from her first rest since the labours, he turned to her as soon as he could hear her rise from her sheets, reaching for her hands in his.

“I have failed you, wife. I should have protected you but I have only raised in anger over old wounds and created altercations when I should have.” Jacaerys felt his tears brim, cheeks red with ignominy and shame.

Her eyes fluttered awake, still weary from the long delivery but visibly more rested already. She shook her head in understanding with an enervated sigh.

“I understand your relationship with my mother has been tense, for what she had done to Her Grace and your family. But I can assure her she has changed, if she is not with me, she is on the knees at the Sept begging for forgiveness and giving alms-”

“She looked at our son the same way she used to look at me and my brothers as children, when she would use her tongue to call us bastards! I fear she will do the same to you and the boy. What good will alms do if she still wishes to see me and our son six feet under ground for the colour of our hair!?” Jacaerys exclaimed, lips quivering in fear as he felt tears brim in his eyes.

Y/N brought their son closer to her arms, only comforted by the sight of her child and her beloved.

“I will handle her, trust me. She thinks I do not pay attention to these things, but I do.” She reaches her free hand to his, unmoving to not wake the babe and squeezes his larger palms into her own.

Jacaerys sniffles, wiping his tears with his sleeve. “I do not wish to drive you apart from your mother, my love. I only worry about you and our family’s safety, and the throne. That you and our son may not suffer on my behalf.”

Their son had just begun to fall asleep in her arms, and she began bouncing him instinctively, quickly gaining the ropes of what it took to be a good mother. Jacaerys knew she would be nothing like her own mother, eagerly learning from his mother Queen Rhaenyra, speaking with other royal and noble mothers and even listening to wet nurses and nannies on how to rear children best.

“Are you sure you can handle this conversation? Would you like me outside or in the room with you?” He asks with uncertainty, not entirely confident with his wife even with her own mother.

The wife of the heir to the Iron Throne and Princess of Dragonstone nods fiercely. “You forget I am a dragon too. We do not bow to these snakes that suck from their prey.”

…

In the overmorrow on the first day of spring, Y/N had just put her son in his cradle, handcrafted in limestone and marble with seahorses and dragons, lined with sheets of silk with pearls and aquamarines, befitting the future King, and the scion of Houses Targaryen and Velaryon.

She hummed as she watched him sleep, having gone through feeding him herself to the surprise of the wet nurses she had followed through, unlike most royalty. She swore she would leave nursing and care to others if she had no other choice.

Underneath sat the hearth of the magenta and mauve swirled dragon egg surrounded by pieces of coal, emitting whirls of smoke that signified the life alive in those eggs. The egg was special as it was the first from her young ride, a nervous flighty thing who only managed to hatch when she found out she was expecting herself, rarely only having one dragon when most on Dragonstone laid many.

As she hums old Valyrian nursery hymns from the crypts of ancient Valyrian text retrieved from the tombs of the Keep’s libraries, she recognizes the steps of her mother without a glimpse.

In her jade hued robes, Lady Alicent was quaint yet undaunted to remind the court of her former standing as once the queen who ruled these halls. A black veil hid part of her auburn hair that turned to flames in certain lighting.

Her mother grimaces with a smile that does not reach her eyes, but relief is painted all over her being. “You are well, daughter? I presume so is the babe.”

Y/N curtly interrupts her. “The babe is your grandson, my child when I am your flesh and blood, mother. Most importantly, he is the future heir to the throne, second in line to my husband.”

Alicent frantically fidgets with her fingers, tugging at her old emerald rings in consternation.

“Of course, yes. His name, Aemon, is fitting for a future monarch.” She could hear the strain in her mother’s words, laced with lies. All her life she had learned those sealed with malice and deceit.

“You forget yourself, mother. My husband and my children are of the blood of the dragon, as do I. You do not understand the ways of the dragon, in your jealousy of wanting to unseat my sister and put Aegon on the throne. Your attempts to disgrace and dispossess my future husband and his brothers has brought the Stranger hanging over mine and my own son’s head!” Y/N chides in betrayal, voice tinged with disbelief her mother would do such a thing.

“Y/N-”

“I could not believe you, mother, that you still harbour such ill will after many years. My marriage with Jacaerys should have buried whatever disagreements you may have had with Queen Rhaenyra, but you value imbuing hate and division on this house more than choosing the peace and stability of this kingdom!”

“Your husband and your son are unbecoming of what Targaryen princes are supposed to look like-” The Dowager attempted to reason, but was impeded as her daughter held an imposing hand towards her.

“Unbecoming? Have you not glimpsed into a mirror? You are nothing of what a Targaryen queen should be, a mere second son’s daughter who brought nothing of value to the throne, and only sought discord to advance her family. Who replaced the Targaryen tapestries with ones of the Seven in hopes of bringing your radicalism to the rest of the kingdom!”

Guards barge in the doors of the babe’s nursery, their armour and swords clattering loudly in the quiet hall.

“What is the meaning of this?”

Y/N coldly turns away from her mother, even as she frowned the same way she would. “By order of the Princess of Dragonstone with the seal of approval of the Prince of Dragonstone and the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms,

I order your arrest for treason, and insubordination not only for your past grievances but your efforts to call my son a bastard. You will be stripped of your privileges of Queen Dowager, and turned into a septa who will serve the Seven for all her days.”

The former queen is astonished, struggling among the grips of the soldiers who surround her. “Daughter, you are mistaken, please do not do this to me. For all I have sacrificed for this realm and for your father, you must understand why I am the way I am.” She pleaded on her knees, hands clasped as she cried for mercy.

“No, you have served your ambitions and my late grandsire’s treacherous longing for power and the throne, that you would put the Hightower banners and replace Targaryen customs with the Seven and southern ways, that you would tear the kingdom apart for it. I have given you too many chances, forgiving you and turning the cheek in hopes you have accepted it and at least been happy for me, but I am a fool. I am not as forgiving as my father was to your digressions!”

Y/N paced slowly around her mother, sorrow on her face, but no regret or forgiveness.

“You are lucky I will not be putting you in a cell, because for better or for worse, you are still the mother who birthed me. But you would understand, there is nothing a mother would do to grant protection to her children.”

The princess dazed into the window, grasping onto the rails as she heard her mother being dragged out the halls and stripped of her royal ordinances. She could feel herself biting into her nails nervously after years of no longer doing so.

Jacaerys sauntered carefully, approaching his wife with comfort, rubbing her shoulders and bringing her into his arms, looking down at their son as he slept.

“Was I not too cruel, Jace?” She whimpered, weeping into his arms as she was devastated at whether treating her own kin in such a way was a fatal mistake.

He rests his chin on the top of her head before pressing kisses on her temple. “I understand why this troubles you, wife. As abominable and misguided she was, you still are her blood, her daughter.”

She glimpsed at her son, cooing at him as he quietly sleeps. “As a mother, I want to be nothing like her. My son will never be safe while she is around.”

[aemondwhoresworld]

everyone shut up, let your king jacaerys speak

[myladysapphire]

Seduction

you had always longed to be queen but with your brother Aegon married to your twin sister you had lost hope, but upon your nephews return to the keep you realise all hope of being queen isn't lost. there was just one problem: your mother would never agree to marriage between you and Jace. So you set in motion a plan of seduction.

based of this request

word count: 2,182

CW: MDI 18+,smut,p in v, incest, not proofread!

Jacaerys Veleryon x Fem!reader

Masterlist

dividers by @zaldritzosrose

authors note: i may have used maergery tyrell as an inspiration for reader.

Growing up in the red keep you had long been surrounded by snakes eagerly vying at the iron throne, doing everything in their power to win more favour and a higher station.

You had hated them.

The false niceties, the fake smiles and the false companions who only desired a potential match between one of your brothers.

But what you hated the most about them, was that you were the same, or at least your ambitions were.

All your life you had desired one thing: to be queen of the seven kingdoms.

As the second born, you had hoped to marry Aegon, and with your mother and grandsires plots to one day make him king, it seemed as if being queen one day was only natural for you. But when he married your younger twin Heleana instead of you, the dream of becoming queen became just that.

And with no reason to support any claim your brother had, you set your sights to your elder sister, Rhaenyra.  She had always been kind to you and Heleana, though you had never been too close. But it seemed she was now the only way for you to fulfil what you so deeply desired.

You knew your father would back her as heir no matter how many sons he sired with your mother, and so you realised you too had to support her claim, and then, and only then could you be queen, of course only if you marry her eldest first.

You had planted the idea in her head.

With Jace’s silly crush on you and you yourself hinting on how it would unite the family.

But your mother had rejected Rhaenrya’s suggestion.

And even know years after, you knew she would reject any suggestion of a betrothal between you both once more.

Instead, she favoured a marriage between you and one of the great lords of Westeros.

And even though you would still have a high status, and vast lands and riches, you would not be queen.

And no matter what, you would not settle for anything less.

You desired to be loved as a queen, to have the small folk lore and worship you, it was all you dreamed off. Not to rule, but to be loved by the masses.

You wished for songs and tales to be written of you, for many to compare you to the good queen Alysanne.

And, whilst you had focused your attentions on smallfolk, insisting spare food and leftovers be sent out to the smallfolk. Spent days in orphanages, commissioning the building of schools and healers’ offices.

You gathered up the love of the smallfolk, and though you were gifted the name of the ‘lady of the smallfolk’ and the ‘realms love’ it still wasn’t enough.

 You had plenty of lords vying for your attention, many from great and rich houses.

But none could give you what you wanted.  

That was until your nephews returned to the keep.

In your youth had ignored your plain-featured nephews, finding little in common with them and only seeing a potential marriage with Jace as a means to an end.

Perhaps that was why you had sent him letters throughout the years, claiming that you were egar to know your nephew and hated that he left before you could become close.

You wrote often, finding many things in common, and suddenly the idea of marrying Jace became a little more than just wanting to become queen.

You had grown to rather like your nephew, and now with his return to the red keep all you wanted now was not just be queen, but his wife.

There was one problem, however.

One being that Your mother would never betroth you willingly to him.  She had refused it before, seeing Jace as a bastard and unfit for her daughter.

But from the look he sent you as you greeted him, dragging him around the castle insisting on catching up.

And from the nonstop wondering eyes at his younger brothers hearing, you were sure she wouldn’t be an obstacle for much longer.

As you walked into the courtyard to greet him and his family, Jace thought to himself that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

His eyes were drawn to you so naturally, and the smile you had sent him had been warm and kind. A look he scarcely received in these halls.

The way you had talked to him, telling him how deeply you treasured his letters, how dearly you had missed him.

You seemed so perfect, and gods would he do anything to marry you.

He had stared at you nonstop, and yet found no words to say to you. Even when you had walked the hall of the keep together. You had talked to him no stop, smiling so beautifully.

He had only stared and blushed. Unsure of what to say or do.

And now at dinner, you had walked in in a black gown. The dress itself was the image of your houses, covered in black dragon scales, and with no sleeves, instead arm rings in the shape of dragon wings, mimicking a sleeve, down both your arms.  A deep v neckline, draped with a red scarf across one shoulder down to your waist, accentuating both your hips and breasts.

You were the very image of Targaryen beauty.

He couldn’t take his eyes of you. Even more so when you sat beside him, your legs brushing together.

You had smiled at him yet again, moving close to him as you talked to him.

His eyes were glued to your lips, watching as they moved to speak to him and those around you.

He had said little words to reply to your questions, only blushing whenever you spoke to him.

Then you had left, fanning you were tired and that you would escort the king back to his chambers before going to your own.

He had been sad you had left, with no longer your lips to stare at, or just your company to bask in.

Though he was glad you were not here to witness the infighting, his weak punch towards your brother Aemond, the mocking he had faced.

He had returned to is room in defeat, after facing a scolding from his mother and being sent to bed early like a child.

He entered his chambers, head down, kicking the door closed behind him in anger.  He didn’t look up as he entered, instead choosing to ready himself for bed.

If he had he would have seen, you.

Laying naked on his bed.

You laughed to yourself, biting you lip as he faced away from you.

He jumped at the sound of your laugh, moving his clothes to quickly cover himself.

“Aunt?” he started, blushing as he took in your naked form. He turned from you, covering his eyes. “I- what are you doing?”

You laughed again, standing up and walking over to him, “isn’t it obvious, my prince?”

He stuttered; eyes still covered “this is in appropriate I should- “

You shushed him, grabbing his arm and turning him to face you “leave your own chambers?” you teased “why is something wrong with me being here?”

“I-no, no I like that you’re here but… your- naked!” he stuttered out.

You nodded, “so it appears I am”.

“Would you like some clothes?”

“Why? Am I not pleasing to you, my prince?” you asked, moving back and turning slowly to show off your body to him.

“no-no- I mean yes! YIs, very pleasing but this is inappropriate” “is it?” you teased, “why? Do you wish for me to go? Perhaps I should get one of the guards, so that we are not alone” you said, making your way to the door.

“No!” he said a little too loudly. “don’t, I- why are you here?”

You smiled, moving towards him once again. “I have missed you, Jace” you said, your face inches away from his, “you have grown so handsome, so…so kingly” you mouth now inches from his, “and I wished to give you a gift” he swallowed, “a gift?”

You nodded, humming, before placing your lips on his.

Your lips moved slowly against his, he was unsure, inexperienced. The kiss was slow and soft. It was short, though your breaths were both heavy as you pulled apart.  

“Yes, Jace, a gift” you said, pulling your lips from his and reaching for his hand.

“Was that the gift?”

“Some of it” you said, grabbing his hand and placing it on your waist. “Did you know your mother planned to betroth us when we were younger?” he shook his head, “I was to be your wife, and now…we will soon be betrothed to others and I cannot have that, Jace” you breathed.

“Really?” he said, voice rough, his hands were both your waist, squeezing your hips softly, as if finally realising why you were naked.

‘Yes, for so long I dreamt of being your wife… I would even touch myself to the thought of you, of us”.

His breath was heavy, “you…you wish to give yourself to me?”

You answered him with another kiss, this one passionate, needy.

Pushing him down onto the bed, straddling him.

“I wish to be your wife, Jace” you breathed against his lips.

“You do?” he breathed, moving to kiss you once more, “but I am already betrothed,”

You looked down sadly, “I... Do not remind me, it pains me so”.

He sighed your name, “is that why you came here? To sleep with me so we must marry”.

“Oh, you must think me horrible” you said, moving to stand from his lap, only for him to pull you back down onto him.

“No, no not at all…I, I would be lying if I said I had never desired to marry you, but- “

“But nothing, my sweet prince” you said, moving in to kiss him once more, if he wished to marry you also, then this was only even more perfect.

Your seduction almost unneeded.

But gods did you want him.

He moaned, into your mouth, his hands desperately gripping your waist, before hesitantly moving up to cup your breasts.

You let out a moan as he gave them a tentative squeeze, before moving to roll your nipples between his fingers.

He was moved slowly, testing out what you liked, and egar to learn what made you moan.

You yourself started to kiss down his neck as he played with your breasts. Your hips still slowly grinding against.

His cock had grown hard beneath you.

His groans increasing as you continued to grind against him.

Your wet cunt coating his cock, her entrance teasing him with each movement of her hips.

“please” he begged, unsure of what exactly what he was begging for.

You stood up from his lap and pushed him to lie down on the bed.

You smiled as you took him in. his pretty face, full of lust and desire. The want clear on his face.

“Wait!” he said stooping you, as you crawled over his body, positioning your entrance above his long hard cock.

“Yes?” you sighed; breath heavy.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“of course, you want us to marry, yes?” he nodded, “and my mother would never approve of it unless…unless we give ourselves to one another.”

“Gods…I, I- your right” he said, reaching up to kiss you as he finally filled you. His cock stretching you out in a way you didn’t know possible. The pleasure near overwhelming.

You both moaned as he fully entered you.

“Gods!” he moaned, his hands going to grip your waist.

Your hands rested on his chest, preparing to move as you finally adjusted to his length.

Slowly you began to move your hips, trying to slowly build a rhythm and find what you both liked.

But it seemed the shy unsure Jace you had been witnessed to all night faded, as Jace gripped your hips and started to thrust up into you.

He set a fast past, and though you tried to keep up, Jace soon flipped you and instead started thrusting into you. His hips moved hard and fast, your moans were loud as you got lost in the pleasure.

Jace had buried himself in your neck, holding onto you as he thrusted into you.

Both of your peaks were fast approaching.

You felt his cock pulse inside of you as you clenched around him.

Moaning his name as you came, before he picked up the face, fulling your face to his as he came, filling you with his seed.

He collapsed on you, his breath heavy.

“Gods, that was…incredible” he smiled, reaching up to kiss you once more. “now all that’s left is for us to get married” he joked, pulling you in for a hug.

And from the scream of the maid as she came to wake Jace up in the morning, she was sure that in no time news would reach their mothers, and they would be wed.

And she would get everything she ever desired.

authors note: i hate this ending! there is so much i wanted to say but i just couldnt word it correclty, but i hope you all enjoyed it!

taglist

@now-i-have-a-new-obsession @apollonshootafar @flrboyd @zillahvathek @theanxietyqueen17 @dark-night-sky-99 @leavesmealobe @winter-soldier-101 @bunbunbl0gs @ka1afbr @tesha-i-guess @aemondwhoresworld @littlebirdgot @eddieslut69 @beebeechaos @jennifer0305 @rosedurin @clobo @aegonswife

to be added to taglist

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

I have a request for Jacaerys Velaryon x reader. They have been married for some time, but Jace still had feelings for Baela. He has never cheated and was always respectful towards reader, though. Jacaerys and her performed their duties and eventually she got pregnant. The fact that reader is now carrying his child makes them grow closer and Jace starts to fall in love with his wife.

For this one, the legitimacy of Rhaenyra’s children was called into question and there was no betrothals between Rhaenyra’s boys and Daemon’s twins.

Warnings: pregnancy (I don't like pregnancies when I read/write, but this one was okay and mostly a small part of the story)

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

When King Viserys fell, a prince showed up to your home and asked your mother, Jeyne Arryn, for her support to Princess — now Queen — Rhaenyra’s claim. In her message, Rhaenyra didn’t fail to mention her mother, Aemma of House Arryn, and remind Lady Jeyne that she shared Arryn blood through her. Your mother was hesitant, knowing her support would make Daemon Targaryen king consort, but she couldn’t give her support to the Greens. So, she agreed but demanded to get something in exchange: a husband for her only daughter.

You didn’t like the idea of being sold for politics, but according to your mother it was part of being a woman. 

Married life wasn’t bad like you thought. Jacaerys was a respectful and kind man, but there was one problem: he had feelings for another. 

You didn’t take long to notice that his heart was elsewhere. It was written in the silence. The way he looked at Baela, the way he smiled at her — a special smile he kept just for her. He had undeniable feelings for her. You begged for attention, time, acknowledgment, but Jacaerys was never fully with you. Him and Baela spent a lot of time together riding their dragons together or practicing High Valyrian in the great hall, which left you hurt and jealous. Other than the red gem on your finger that matched the one of his cloak-pin, you had nothing in common. 

Sitting in your chamber, you held a necklace of your house’s sigil. The gold was cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of the fire crackling in the hearth. You hadn't seen your mother since the beginning of the war and you missed her dearly. You exchanged messages by raven, but it wasn’t the same as seeing her in person. 

A tear slipped down your cheek, wishing for this war to be over soon. 

The door of your chambers creaked open, snapping you out of your sorrowful reverie. You glanced over your shoulder and saw Jacaerys in his armor after a day spent teaching the dragonseeds. It was a smart idea to get more dragons and riders on their side, but also a lot of work. 

‘’What are you doing?’’ he asked, his voice a mix of concern and curiosity.  

‘’Missing home, that’s all,’’ you replied, quickly wiping the tear away and forcing a smile. The weight of the necklace seemed heavier than ever as you clutched it in your hand.

Jacaerys stepped further into the room, running a hand through his tousled hair. He crossed the space between you in a few strides, his expression softening. ‘’Don’t cry. I hate it when you cry.’’ He wiped your tear and sat next to you. ‘’I’ll take you to the Vale when it’s safe,’’ Jacaerys promised, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. ‘’I would take you now if it wasn’t so dangerous to fly over Kingsroad. The Greens have taken Harrenhal and—’’ 

‘’Is my mother okay? You promised you would send a dragon to watch over my home.’’  

He nodded. ‘’Rhaena left this morning with Joffrey and three dragon eggs. They should hatch soon and assure more protection to the Vale.’’ 

You let out a shaky breath, the news offering a small measure of relief. 

A few moons later, you announced to Jacaerys that you were pregnant. It was a surprise as you only had the occasion to lay together two times, but it’s been two moons since you last bled and the maester confirmed your suspicions. You were with child. 

The timing was not ideal, but the Queen was beyond happy for you and Jacaerys. She hosted a small feast in your honor, and made everyone keep your pregnancy a secret. Jacaerys was her heir, making your baby his heir. If the news got to their ears, she feared you would become a target for the Greens.

At the table, Baela congratulated you with a smile. You thought she would be bitter, but she was genuinely happy for you. 

As the weeks went by, the walls that once stood between you began to crumble and you and Jacaerys started getting closer. He would spend more time in the evening in your chambers, talking by the hearth while eating lemon tarts. And ask how the baby was although your stomach was barely round every time he returned from teaching the dragonseeds. 

You’ll never forget the look on his face when felt the baby move for the first time. The stars of complete amazement. He kissed you that night — a real kiss. 

On the seventh moon, as you were getting ready for your bath, you felt blood dripping down your leg.  Terrified, you asked one of the servants to fetch the maester and the Queen. She had other — more pressing — business to take care of, but you needed the reassurance of a mother by your side.

The news ran through the castle and made it way to Jacaerys, who dropped everything he was doing and ran through the corridors of Dragonstone to get to you. 

His face pale with worry when he bursted in your chamber, thinking you were going to lose the baby like his mother did. An early bleeding was how it started. 

‘’I’m fine, Jace. Maester Gerardys said bleeding can happen,’’ you said, taking his hand and pressing it over your belly. ‘’Our baby is fine.’’

—

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[talesofhightower]

Okay but ..... m o t h e r 😃💗🎀

[gh0stsp1d3r]

don’t waste a drop

warnings: canon typical Targaryen incest (brother- younger sister), breeding kink, no plot only smut,

A/n: someone match my freak pls… also writing incest is new to me, LMFAOO. Step-cest i can do, incest… a bit tricker. not too sure if i used the high Valyrian right but whatevs idc atp

MASTERLIST

He pinned your wrists over your head, looking down at you, his curly hair fallen over his face with the noises falling out of your mouth egging him on.

His hands then went to intertwine with yours, a soft smile appearing on your face at the intimacy of it all, a stark contrast to his hard and deep thrusts. He found himself looking down where you both were connected. One hand left yours and moved down, his hand going to your clit.

He rubbed on the button, his fingers knowing exactly how to make you cum. And with your mother none the wiser about the relationship, he slapped his hand over your mouth when you threatened to cry out his name. He leaned down, whispering.

“I know, hāedar, know.” He mumbled, his soothing voice having you clench down onto his length. “Cum for me.”

That was all the conformation you needed for that pressure in your stomach to release, your juices soaking his cock. He let out a low groan, his head lolling back as he began to paint your walls, you feeling his hot seed shoot inside you.

You both panted, his cock softening when he pulled back out. He watched his seed slowly leave your hole. He gathered all of it on his hand, shoving a finger into you, making you gasp at the sudden, unexpected intrusion from your brother.

“Don’t waste a drop, okay?” He murmured in your ear, you whining and nodding against his shoulder. You wouldn’t dream of it.

hāedar- younger/little sister

[astraaeterna]

baela come get your fiancé before HE gets a fiancé