Jacaerys Velaryon Smut - Tumblr Posts
A dragon's ambition
Jacaerys Velaryon x older stepsister - one shot
Summary: Growing up under her father's influence in the Red Keep, Alysanne becomes determined to claim the Iron Throne. Feeling the sting of being overlooked and fuelled by ambition, Alysanne hatches a plan that involves the seduction of the heir to throne, her stepbrother Jacaerys, who also happens to be her half-sister's betrothed.
Warnings: incest (stepsiblings that are cousins), sexual content, p in v, tiddy succin, breeding kink, some fluff, third person narrative, oc is manipulative.
Word count: 3.8 k
Alysanne Targaryen was the oldest daughter of Daemon Targaryen. Conceived in the only night Lady Rhea Royce and Daemon spent together, Alysanne wasn’t a desired child, as her mother secretly tried to end the pregnancy.
However, Alysanne was tough and stubborn since the womb and came into the world crying so loud, the whole Vale could hear her.
Daemon welcomed his daughter to live with him in the Red Keep upon her third name day, raising her in his own ways, educating her to be cunning and fearless.
Alysanne had grown up to be her father’s female version, a thing that scared Daemon. Her sharp mind aligned with her ethereal looks, made a dangerous combination that didn’t let any man escape. With her sweet eyes and big eyelashes, not even the guards were able to refuse a single request she made, crumbling immediately to her pleads.
Alysanne liked her sisters, Baela and Rhaena, but didn’t love them. They were nice and fun to be around, but she couldn’t stop wandering if perhaps her life would be better, if they weren’t around.
She also liked to believe she was her father’s favourite daughter, even if she wasn’t sure. It was only fair right? Baela and Rhaena had their own mother to favour them, while Alysanne only had Daemon. Her mother had a brief presence in her life, dying in a tragic accident with her horse three moons before Alysanne moved to Kings Landing.
Alysanne’s life was pleasant enough, but then, Lady Laena Velaryon died and Baela and Rhaena were also left with only one parent.
They just seemed to want everything Alysanne had.
First, they played dress up with her gowns, then they ate all her honey cakes at breakfast and then finally got her father’s attention to themselves, as Daemon focused more on the twins, supporting then through their grief.
Then, Rhaenyra came and married her father.
Alysanne liked Rhaenyra though. She let the girl use her earrings and necklaces, and even gifted her some dresses from her younger years. But what Alysanne liked the most about her new stepmother was the fact that she was set to be next Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, making Alysanne feel like she could just touch the Iron Throne
As a result of being raised in the Red Keep until moving to Pentos, Alysanne quickly learned the power of that seat.
Even if she didn’t understand how Viserys got there, as an ant and him had the same skills to be king, every time he passed by her in the halls, she could not divert her eyes from the shining crown on top of his balding head. Suddenly her dreams were filled with images of her sitting in the Iron Trone, wearing long bright dresses and matching jewels.
-
Alysanne and her family had just come back from the capital, landing victoriously in Dragonstone after securing Lucerys’ inheritance of Driftmark.
However, Alysanne couldn’t be madder. It had been announced to everyone the official betrothal of Lucerys and Rhaena, and Jacaerys and Baela.
How could her father and stepmother do this to her? She was the first Daemon’s daughter to become of age to wed, and they had just putted her aside, betrothing her younger sister to the future king of the Seven Kingdoms.
Jacaerys and Alysanne weren’t very close, as the two-year age gap between them didn’t align their interests with each other. It was a small difference of age, but Jace was a typically childish boy, which contrasted with the more mature personally of the girl.
Of all her siblings, she preferred the younger ones, Joffrey and little Aegon and Viserys.
Their small age made it easier to shape their small minds into Alysanne’s likings. The girl quickly became their favourite sister as she would be the one that spent more time with them, playing, reading, and teaching them everything that she valued. Joffrey became so attached to the girl’s presence in his daily activities, that sometimes he would cry in his bed for her, and as a good sister, Alysanne would leave her chambers and put the boy to sleep with kisses on the forehead and loving lullabies.
-
Daemon had called Alysanne into his study , noticing the annoyed expression that hadn’t left his daughter’s face the whole trip to Dragonstone.
“What’s wrong with you? You are acting different since last night.” Daemon asked looking directly into Alysanne’s eyes.
Alysanne wondered if she should tell her father what she was thinking exactly. Daemon liked honesty but she wasn’t sure if honesty was the right path to follow in this conversation.
“Why are Baela and Rhaena getting married before me?” Not exactly the centre of the matter that was bothering her, but it was close.
Daemon laughed, not believing his daughter’s bad mood was caused by her sisters betrothals.
“Do you want a wedding for yourself, daughter? I didn’t know you were so eager to be attached to a man and to be popping out heirs.” Alysanne only rolled her eyes, not having the patience to her father’s typical comments. “I don’t understand your little tantrum Alysanne, if anything you should be thankful you don’t have to marry yet. But if you really are that desperate to get wed, Cregan Stark’s wife just passed away. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind a Targaryen beauty like you being given to him.”
Alysanne immediately laughed in her father’s face, letting the anger that was slowing boiling beneath her skin finally snap.
“No!” She yelled, slamming her hands down on the wodden desk that stood in the middle of the room.
“No?” Daemon repeated, not expecting her outburst.
“How is that fair? Baela gets to be queen, and I get send away to freeze in the North?” Her loud voice echoed through the chambers, as Alysanne couldn’t believe her father’s suggestion.”I’m the oldest girl! I’m your oldest daughter, I should be the one getting my ass cozy in the throne! Not Baela!” She screamed and pointed her indicator finger to her father in an accusing manner.
Daemon was shocked but without hesitation jumped in defence of his other daugther.
“You’re not going to speak about Baela like that again! Do you hear me Alysanne?!” Daemon’s shook her shoulders, letting his temper take the best of him.
Alysanne felt her eyes water and her throat itch, as she tried to contain the sobs she was holding back. Her father had never screamed at her, and not once he had directed his anger towards her like that.
The feeling of injustice settled once again on Alysanne’s chest, hurting like the sobs in her throat.
“You’re going to inherit Runestone, isn’t that great already?” Daemon asked rhetorically and left the room they had entered, slamming the door on his way making Alysanne shudder.
“Why have only Runestone when you can have all the Seven Kingdoms…” She whispered to the empty office as the tears finally fell from her eyes.
Alysanne had one goal: be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. And to accomplish that goal, she traced a plan that involved betraying her half-sister and her father.
It would hurt, because she loved her father very much, but lately Daemon had been so distant from Alysanne and so close to Baela, that she didn’t feel that terrible doing it.
-
Jacaerys was sitting in the beach of Dragonstone playing with little Viserys in the sand. Alysanne got closer and started an innocent conversation.
“Hello Jace.” She smiled gracefully at him.
“Hi Aly.” He returned the jest, turning his attention to young boy next to him as he tried to stand to the sight of Alysanne.
“Hello to you too my love.” Viserys immediately put his little chubby arms in the air, begging for his sister to pick him up, showing his small teeth in a smile.
Alysanne bended over to pick up the babe, making sure she aligned the low neckline of her dress with Jacaerys’ eyesight.
She turned to the older boy, now with the younger one on her right hip, and notice his red cheeks and the bobbing of his throat.
“How are you feeling brother?” Alysanne asked.
“A-, what-… what do you mean?” He was nervous. Like she had caught him doing something bad.
“About the betrothal, Jace. How are you feeling now that you are about the be a married man?”
“I’m content Aly, Baela is a kind and nice girl. It could be a lot worse.“
Alysanne knew he was being honest. Baela and Jacaerys were really good friends, and considering the Westerosi history in arranged marriages, she agreed that he definitely could have gotten worse.
“Do you think she will make a fine Queen?” She questioned him while sitting on the sand next to him, putting Viserys in her lap.
“With Daemon and my mother educating her, I don’t see how she could ever do wrong.”
Alysanne started playing innocently with a curl on the side of Jacaerys' head, twirling it on her fingers. She pretended to not notice the chill on his neck and moved her hand to massage the curls on the top of his hair.
“I agree with you brother, Baela would be a nice Queen. But would she be a nice Queen to you?”
“I don’t understand Aly.” Jacaerys was getting flustered, getting distracted from the conversation as the girl's hands played so smoothly with his hair and her breasts were sitting so prettily in a pink dress.
“A Queen should not only serve the realm, but should also serve her husband, the King. You know that right?” From his expression, it was clear that Jacaerys still wasn’t getting Alysanne’s point. “The marital bed is how Queens serve their Kings, brother. By giving them pleasure.” Alysanne smirked seeing Jacaerys’ blushed cheeks, laughing lightly when he avoided looking at her eyes.
-
It was the middle of the night, and the castle was sleeping peacefully, except for Alysanne, who was just leaving her chambers, wearing nothing but her thin nightgown. Tiptoeing carefully on the stone floors to not alert any guards, she made her way to a room she had been very few times.
Opening and closing the door quietly, she let her eyes wander through the dark chambers, stopping on the big bed and on the dark tuff of hair resting on the pillows. Jacaerys was sleeping peacefully, completely unaware of his sister’s presence in his room.
Alysanne made her way to the bed, seating behind Jacaerys’ back, leaning carefully in his ear.
“Jace…” She whispered while letting her index finger wander through his neck.
The boy started to wake up, opening his eyes slowly trying to adjust to the lack of light.
“Alysanne?” He interrogated turning his body to face her.
“I think I saw a spider in my room. Can I sleep with you tonight Jace?” Alysanne pouted, batting her eyelashes the best she could, but the doubt in Jacaerys’ eyes was still visible.
“Aly, I don’t think it’s appropriate. If somebody catches you, we might get in trouble.”
As much as his words were denying her, Alysanne noticed how his eyes went down to her nipples, that had perked due to coldness of the space, and were now very visible through her white nightgown.
“Please Jace.” She pleaded, putting her hands his shoulders. “The spider was very big, and you know how scared I am of bugs.”
“Fine, but you have to leave before the morning comes.”
“Thank you Jace, you the best brother.” Alysanne kissed his cheek, making her breasts collide with his chest, and even in the dark atmosphere of the room, she could very much recognize his blushing look.
Alysanne got under the covers, making herself comfortable on the second pillow of the bed. At first, she gave Jacaerys some distance, but as the minutes passed, she slowly began to move herself close to the boy. She was facing him, observing his closed eyes, and almost laughed at his failed attempt to pretend to sleep.
Alysanne once again, let her fingers wander through his chest, following the patterns of his garment.
“Aly…go to sleep” Jacaerys mumbled with his eyes still closed.
“I’m trying Jacey…”
Alysanne lifted her right foot, making a gentle path up and down in his leg, not going up above the knee.
Jacaerys stopped her foot from continuing to move, holding it tightly with his hand.
“What are you doing Alysanne?” He said as he finally opened his eyes, giving her a serious look.
“I’m just caressing my brother. I like to make you feel good.” She muttered, now rubbing his leg with the foot that wasn’t trapped in his hand.
Jacaerys closed his eyes once again, but this time doing it as mechanism to calm himself. Alysanne moved her eyes down the covers, espying the bulge on the boy’s breeches. She bitted her lip and drawn her face close to his, letting their noses touch slightly.
Alysanne could feel his warm but shaky breath, also smelling the scent of lavender in his hair.
“Jace, let me make you feel good tonight…” Jacaerys whole body got chills, as the girl whispered and started to kiss his neck, making a trail to his jaw.
“Aly-, I- “He hummed, moving his hand from her foot, tightening his grip on her ankle.” I’m betrothed do Baela, and I can’t let yourself be ruined for your future husband.”
“I appreciate your concern for my reputation brother, but I’m not a maiden anymore.”
Alysanne didn’t let Jacaerys make any questions, biting his neck roughly which led to a loud grunt echoing through the room.
“Carefully Jacey, you don’t mommy Rhaenyra to catch us don’t you? Or worse, my father and my sister. Can you imagine?” She said licking the spot behind his ear.
Jacaerys just shook his head and surrendered to whatever Alysanne planned to do with him.
Alysanne switched positions, straddling him with her legs, seating right on top of his erect cock. Jacaerys moaned and the girl took his hands putting them across her hips.
“Do you want to see me bare brother? Do you wish to see and touch my soft skin?”
“Yes, Aly…yes.” His hands tensed around her hips, and Alysanne moved them again, letting them rest against her rear. Jacaerys immediately groaned, hardening his grip, possibly leaving bruises on her skin.
Alysanne rubbed herself against Jacaerys’ bulge, and because her only piece of clothing was a nightgown, the only thing separating them was his breeches, causing both to moan at the contact.
The room was getting hotter, with the heavy breathing and sweat that started to glisten in their bodies warming up the atmosphere.
Jacaerys’ eyes were close, and his head empty of thoughts, the mere feeling of his stepsister’s cunt making him dumb.
Alysanne´s hands moved to the straps of her nightgown, pushing them down just enough to show her tits.
“Jacey, open your eyes my love.” She whispered in his ear and the boy followed her request, coming to immediate disbelief, not expecting Alysanne’s bust to be right in front his face.
“Can I?” He asked nervously, not having the courage to express in full words what he wanted to say exactly.
The girl nodded, and carefully, Jace moved his hands touching Alysanne’s tits like they were a fragile piece of glass. She chuckled teasingly as his index fingers made round movements around her nipples.
“You can go harder you know? I’m not a doll.”
Jacaerys, hearing her words, gripped both of her breasts roughly, and as a moan left his stepsister’s mouth, he got even harder, felling like the fabric of his breeches was about to rip.
Alysanne grabbed his hair, pushing his head close to her chest. “Suck them brother.”
He widened his eyes, taking some seconds to fully process her words, and Alysanne, with her lack of patience, pulled his hair harder with her fingers, moving his head forcefully in the direction her tits.
If Jacaerys got uncomfortable with the sudden lack of delicacy of his stepsister, he didn’t show it, as he immediately opened his mouth and sucked on Alysanne’s left breast like a hungry babe.
“Fuck…You are so good Jace. Can´t believe I only discovered you now.” The Targaryen girl opened her mouth in silent moans, never once stopping her hips from moving against her stepbrother’s lap.
Jacaerys felt like his cock was going to explode. Never once in his life he had been this hard.
He had noticed Alysanne’s looks before, always having to look away when the siblings would go for a swim in the beach of Dragonstone, and her shift would stick to her body, giving him a perfect view of her bottom and chest. He was still in disbelief, but the feeling of guilt or treason had vanished from his head since he felt her bare cunt against him.
Alysanne moved Jace’s head again, withdrawing his mouth from her breast, making a thin thread of spit connect to her nipple. His eyebrows raised in a frown, as he didn’t like that he got stopped, until the girl carefully raised her hips, and slowly started to unlace his breaches.
“Are you ready brother?” She questioned and the boy nodded without hesitation, eager to finally feel her pussy fully around him.
Alysanne was pleasantly surprised upon the sight of her stepbrother’s cock. With only a handful of sexual experiences with one of the knights of the Dragonstone, Jacaerys’ manhood was big in length and width. Alysanne debuted her hand could fully close around it.
Before pushing her hips down again, the girl took her nightgown off, throwing it to some corner of the room.
Her cunt was glistening with wetness, making Jacaerys grunt at the sight.
Alysanne pushed one finger inside of her, whining at the feeling, only to pull it out and slowly press her wet and shiny digit to Jace’s lips.
The boy didn’t expect this action, but quickly let the surprise get away and instead allowed the curiosity to take hold of him. Opening his mouth carefully, he licked the wet substance that was touching his lips, being interrupted as Alysanne shoved her wet finger inside in mouth. Just like he did with her nipple, Jacaerys sucked like his life depended on it, loving the sweet taste of his stepsister in his mouth. It was sweater than any dessert he had ever tasted, and more addicting than any wine in the Seven Kingdoms.
The Targaryen girl chuckled amused with this moment, proceeding to leave delicate kisses on his neck.
Taking her finger of Jacaerys’ mouth, Alysanne connected her gaze with his, as she aligned his cock with her cunt, finally sinking down.
Both moaned loudly at the sensation. Alysanne felt full to a point of pain, and Jacaerys felt a tight and warm embrace in his manhood, that it was close enough to make him come.
“Fuck Jacey.” Alysanne pulled their lips together in a lustful and passionate kiss. It was hungry and desperate, both chasing each other’s tongue, not worrying about syncing the movements.
Alysanne started to move her hips, first at a slow pace, wanting to adjust to her stepbrother large cock, but Jacaerys was already impatient and wanted more. Groaning, he took hold of her hips, and pressed her down more on him. Alysanne felt like she could sob from pleasure, and moved her hips faster, making herself and Jace see stars.
“Aly you feel so good.” He moaned breathy, pressing small kisses on her tits.
The bed moved against the stone wall, making a noise that echoed through the room, but not high enough that could silence their sounds of pleasure.
Alysanne, feeling her leg muscles starting to get tired, slowed down a little, and Jace, sensing that, began to move his own hips upwards, thrusting into Alysanne´s pussy without mercy.
The girl’s eyes watered as his cock touched that spot, forcing her to bite into Jacaerys’ shoulder to prevent the scream that was about to leave her mouth from waking their family up.
They exchange gazes, and Jacaerys thought he was seeing an angle, upon the sight of Alysanne´s face. Her silver long hair was a mess, and her cheeks were flustered and red, but what really mesmerised him were her teary violet eyes and swollen lips. If he was meant to go to one of the seven heavens, he was sure they would never be more beautiful than this view.
Seeing his deep stare, Alysanne smiled softly and pressed a small kiss on Jacaerys’ lips.
“I’m close Aly.” He said making a low sound that rattled in his throat.
“Come inside me Jacey. Please brother.” She begged and the boy was quick to nod in agreement, but Alysanne could still see the hesitation in his eyes. She pushed Jace against the mattress, taking command of the pace again, and with all her strength, she rode Jace like the dragonrider she was.
“Gods...” He whispered, one hand on her back and the other on her ass, squeezing it tightly.
Fire burned in Alysanne’s belly, as her climax was also approaching. She moved her hand down, reaching for her cunt and toyed with her clit, wanting to reach the orgasm together with Jace.
Alysanne pressed her forehead with his, the sweat sticking their hair together, and Jacaerys’ brown eyes widen with adoration.
He felt like this was meant to be, Alysanne’s deep violet eyes looking into his and his hands worshiping every piece of her skin. He wasn´t sure if should be thanking the gods for her existence, as in the moment she was a goddess herself.
“Come on brother, let me give you a sweet babe with dark hair.” As this sentence left Alysanne´s mouth, Jacaerys’ was unable to hold it anymore and with a trembling heart, he lifted his large palm, and slapped the girl’s ass forcefully, immediately leaving a red bruise. Alysanne gasped, and finally, together, both reached their release. Alysanne clung to him, coming with a loud cry, and Jacaerys buried his face on her neck, muffling a deep moan into her skin.
Alysanne felt the warm release of her stepbrother filling her, and smiled, allowing her hips to continue moving, wanting to prolong both of their pleasure.
“Fuck...” Jace’s tired voice spoke as he carefully withdrawn her from his lap.
Alysanne moved to his side, putting her head in his chest and looked directly into his eyes.
“Did you enjoy it?” She questioned teasingly.
“What do you think?” The boy laughed and pressed a light kiss to her forehead.
The silence that now filled the room was an extreme contrast to the loud atmosphere that was bursting moments before.
Alysanne got what she wanted, and the happiness of being able to accomplish her goal, mixed with the pleasure she had felt, had brought her to a state of bliss.
Jacaerys on the other hand, was now contemplating his future. If his betrothal to Baela wasn´t important some minutes ago, now it was a screaming thought in his head.
When the betrothal was announced, he never for once got sad about it, with Baela being a kind and beautiful girl. But now, after having Alysanne in his arms, he knew that entire years of a marriage with Baela wouldn’t bring him the happiness he felt in a single night with Alysanne.
A dragon's ambition
Jacaerys Velaryon x older stepsister - one shot
Summary: Growing up under her father's influence in the Red Keep, Alysanne becomes determined to claim the Iron Throne. Feeling the sting of being overlooked and fuelled by ambition, Alyssane hatches a plan that involves the seduction of the heir to throne, her stepbrother Jacaerys, who also happens to be her half-sister's betrothed.
Warnings: incest (stepsiblings that are cousins), sexual content, p in v, tiddy succin, breeding kink, some fluff, third person narrative, oc is manipulative.
Word count: 3.8 k
Alysanne Targaryen was the oldest daughter of Daemon Targaryen. Conceived in the only night Lady Rhea Royce and Daemon spent together, Alysanne wasn’t a desired child, as her mother secretly tried to end the pregnancy.
However, Alysanne was tough and stubborn since the womb and came into the world crying so loud, the whole Vale could hear her.
Daemon welcomed his daughter to live with him in the Red Keep upon her third name day, raising her in his own ways, educating her to be cunning and fearless.
Alysanne had grown up to be her father’s female version, a thing that scared Daemon. Her sharp mind aligned with her ethereal looks, made a dangerous combination that didn’t let any men escape. With her sweet eyes and big eyelashes, not even the guards were able to refuse a single request she made, crumbling immediately to her pleads.
Alysanne liked her sisters, Baela and Rhaena, but didn’t love them. They were nice and fun to be around, but she couldn’t stop wandering if perhaps her life would be better, if they weren’t around.
She also liked to believe she was her father’s favourite daughter, even if she wasn’t sure. It was only fair right? Baela and Rhaena had their own mother to favour them, while Alysanne only had Daemon. Her mother had a brief presence in her life, dying in a tragic accident with her horse three moons before Alysanne moved to Kings Landing.
Alysanne’s life was pleasant enough, but then, Lady Laena Velaryon died and Baela and Rhaena were also left with only one parent.
They just seemed to want everything Alysanne had.
First, they played dress up with her gowns, then they ate all her honey cakes at breakfast and then finally got her father’s attention to themselves, as Daemon focused more on the twins, supporting then through their grief.
Then, Rhaenyra came and married her father.
Alysanne liked Rhaenyra though. She let the girl use her earrings and necklaces, and even gift her some dresses from her younger years. But what Alysanne liked the most about her new stepmother was the fact that she was set to be next Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, making Alysanne feel like she could just touch the Iron Throne
As a result of being raised in the Red Keep until moving to Pentos, Alysanne quickly learned the power of that seat.
Even if she didn’t understand how Viserys got there, as an ant and him had the same skills to be king, every time he passed by her in the halls, she could not divert her eyes from the shining crown on top of his balding head. Suddenly her dreams were filled with images of her sitting in the Iron Trone, wearing long bright dresses and matching jewels.
-
Alysanne and her family had just come back from the capital, landing victoriously in Dragonstone after securing Lucerys’ inheritance of Driftmark.
However, Alysanne couldn’t be madder. It had been announced to everyone the official betrothal of Lucerys and Rhaena, and Jacaerys and Baela.
How could her father and stepmother do this to her? She was the first Daemon’s daughter to become of age to wed, and they had just putted her aside, betrothing her younger sister to the future king of the Seven Kingdoms.
Jacaerys and Alysanne weren’t very close, as the two-year age gap between them didn’t align their interests with each other. It was a small difference of age, but Jace was a typically childish boy, which contrasted with the more mature personally of the girl.
Of all her siblings, she preferred the younger ones, Joffrey and little Aegon and Viserys.
Their small age made it easier to shape their small minds into Alysanne’s likings. The girl quickly became their favourite sister as she would be the one that spent more time with them, playing, reading, and teaching them everything that she valued. Joffrey became so attached to the girl’s presence in his daily activities, that sometimes he would cry in his bed for her, and as a good sister, Alysanne would leave her chambers and put the boy to sleep with kisses on the forehead and loving lullabies.
-
Daemon had called Alysanne into his office, noticing the annoyed expression that hadn’t left his daughter’s face the whole trip to Dragonstone.
“What’s wrong with you? You are acting different since last night.” Daemon asked looking directly into Alysanne’s eyes.
Alysanne wondered if she should tell her father what she was thinking exactly. Daemon liked honesty but she wasn’t sure if honesty was the right path to follow in this conversation.
“Why are Baela and Rhaena getting married before me?” Not exactly the centre of the matter that was bothering her, but it was close.
Daemon laughed, not believing his daughter’s bad mood was caused by her sisters betrothals.
“Do you want a wedding for yourself, daughter? I didn’t know you were so eager to be attached to a man and to be popping out heirs.” Alysanne only rolled her eyes, not having the patience to her father’s typical comments. “I don’t understand your little tantrum Alysanne, if anything you should be thankful you don’t have to marry yet. But if you really are that desperate to get wed, Cregan Stark’s wife just passed away. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind a Targaryen beauty like you being given to him.”
Alysanne immediately laughed in her father’s face, letting the anger that was slowing boiling beneath her skin finally snap.
“No!” She yelled, slamming her hands down on the wodden desk that stood in the middle of the room.
“No?” Daemon repeated, not expecting her outburst.
“How is that fair? Baela gets to be queen, and I get send away to freeze in the North?” Her loud voice echoed through the chambers, as Alysanne couldn’t believe her father’s suggestion.”I’m the oldest girl! I’m your oldest daughter, I should be the one getting my ass cozy in the throne! Not Baela!” She screamed and pointed her indicator finger to her father in an accusing manner.
Daemon was shocked but without hesitation jumped in defence of his other daugther.
“You’re not going to speak about Baela like that again! Do you hear me Alysanne?!” Daemon’s shook her shoulders, letting his temper take the best of him.
Alysanne felt her eyes water and her throat itch, as she tried to contain the sobs she was holding back. Her father had never screamed at her, and not once he had directed his anger towards her like that.
The feeling of injustice settled once again on Alysanne’s chest, hurting like the sobs in her throat.
“You’re going to inherit Runestone, isn’t that great already?” Daemon asked rhetorically and left the room they had entered, slamming the door on his way making Alysanne shudder.
“Why have only Runestone when you can have all the Seven Kingdoms…” She whispered to the empty office as the tears finally fell from her eyes.
Alysanne had one goal: be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. And to accomplish that goal, she traced a plan that involved betraying her half-sister and her father.
It would hurt, because she loved her father very much, but lately Daemon had been so distant from Alysanne and so close to Baela, that she didn’t feel that terrible doing it.
-
Jacaerys was sitting in the beach of Dragonstone playing with little Viserys in the sand. Alysanne got closer and started an innocent conversation.
“Hello Jace.” She smiled gracefully at him.
“Hi Aly.” He returned the jest, turning his attention to young boy next to him as he tried to stand to the sight of Alysanne.
“Hello to you too my love.” Viserys immediately put his little chubby arms in the air, begging for his sister to pick him up, showing his small teeth in a smile.
Alysanne bended over to pick up the babe, making sure she aligned the low neckline of her dress with Jacaerys’ eyesight.
She turned to the older boy, now with the younger one on her right hip, and notice his red cheeks and the bobbing of his throat.
“How are you feeling brother?” Alysanne asked.
“A-, what-… what do you mean?” He was nervous. Like she had caught him doing something bad.
“About the betrothal, Jace. How are you feeling now that you are about the be a married man?”
“I’m content Aly, Baela is a kind and nice girl. It could be a lot worse.“
Alysanne knew he was being honest. Baela and Jacaerys were really good friends, and considering the Westerosi history in arranged marriages, she agreed that he definitely could have gotten worse.
“Do you think she will make a fine Queen?” She questioned him while sitting on the sand next to him, putting Viserys in her lap.
“With Daemon and my mother educating her, I don’t see how she could ever do wrong.”
Alysanne started playing innocently with a curl on the side of Jacaerys' head, twirling it on her fingers. She pretended to not notice the chill on his neck and moved her hand to massage the curls on the top of his hair.
“I agree with you brother, Baela would be a nice Queen. But would she be a nice Queen to you?”
“I don’t understand Aly.” Jacaerys was getting flustered, getting distracted from the conversation as the girl's hands played so smoothly with his hair and her breasts were sitting so prettily in a pink dress.
“A Queen should not only serve the realm, but should also serve her husband, the King. You know that right?” From his expression, it was clear that Jacaerys still wasn’t getting Alysanne’s point. “The marital bed is how Queens serve their Kings, brother. By giving them pleasure.” Alysanne smirked seeing Jacaerys’ blushed cheeks, laughing lightly when he avoided looking at her eyes.
-
It was the middle of the night, and the castle was sleeping peacefully, except for Alysanne, who was just leaving her chambers, wearing nothing but her thin nightgown. Tiptoeing carefully on the stone floors to not alert any guards, she made her way to a room she had been very few times.
Opening and closing the door quietly, she let her eyes wander through the dark chambers, stopping on the big bed and on the dark tuff of hair resting on the pillows. Jacaerys was sleeping peacefully, completely unaware of his sister’s presence in his room.
Alysanne made her way to the bed, seating behind Jacaerys’ back, leaning carefully in his ear.
“Jace…” She whispered while letting her index finger wander through his neck.
The boy started to wake up, opening his eyes slowly trying to adjust to the lack of light.
“Alysanne?” He interrogated turning his body to face her.
“I think I saw a spider in my room. Can I sleep with you tonight Jace?” Alysanne pouted, batting her eyelashes the best she could, but could still see the doubt in Jacaerys’ eyes.
“Aly, I don’t think it’s appropriate. If somebody catches you, we might get in trouble.”
As much as his words were denying her, Alysanne noticed how his eyes went down to her nipples, that had perked due to coldness of the space, and were now very visible through her white nightgown.
“Please Jace.” She pleaded, putting her hands his shoulders. “The spider was very big, and you know how scared I am of bugs.”
“Fine, but you have to leave before the morning comes.”
“Thank you Jace, you the best brother.” Alysanne kissed his cheek, making her breasts collide with his chest, and even in the dark atmosphere of the room, she could very much recognize his blushing look.
Alysanne got under the covers, making herself comfortable on the second pillow of the bed. At first, she gave Jacaerys some distance, but as the minutes passed, she slowly began to move herself close to the boy. She was facing him, observing his closed eyes, and almost laughed at his failed attempt to pretend to sleep.
Alysanne once again, let her fingers wander through his chest, following the patterns of his garment.
“Aly…go to sleep” Jacaerys mumbled with his eyes still closed.
“I’m trying Jacey…”
Alysanne lifted her right foot, making a gentle path up and down in his leg, not going up above the knee.
Jacaerys stopped her foot from continuing to move, holding it tightly with his hand.
“What are you doing Alysanne?” He said as he finally opened his eyes, giving her a serious look.
“I’m just caressing my brother. I like to make you feel good.” She muttered, now rubbing his leg with the foot that wasn’t trapped in his hand.
Jacaerys closed his eyes once again, but this time doing it as mechanism to calm himself. Alysanne moved her eyes down the covers, espying the bulge on the boy’s breeches. She bitted her lip and drawn her face close to his, letting their noses touch slightly.
Alysanne could feel his warm but shaky breath, also smelling the scent of lavender in his hair.
“Jace, let me make you feel good tonight…” Jacaerys whole body got chills, as the girl whispered and started to kiss his neck, making a trail to his jaw.
“Aly-, I- “He hummed, moving his hand from her foot, tightening his grip on her ankle.” I’m betrothed do Baela, and I can’t let yourself be ruined for your future husband.”
“I appreciate your concern for my reputation brother, but I’m not a maiden anymore.”
Alysanne didn’t let Jacaerys make any questions, biting his neck roughly which led to a loud grunt echoing through the room.
“Carefully Jacey, you don’t mommy Rhaenyra to catch us don’t you? Or worse, my father and my sister. Can you imagine?” She said licking the spot behind his ear.
Jacaerys just shook his head and surrendered to whatever Alysanne planned to do with him.
Alysanne switched positions, straddling him with her legs, seating right on top of his erect cock. Jacaerys moaned and the girl took his hands putting them across her hips.
“Do you want to see me bare brother? Do you wish to see and touch my soft skin?”
“Yes, Aly…yes.” His hands tensed around her hips, and Alysanne moved them again, letting them rest against her rear. Jacaerys immediately groaned, hardening his grip, possibly leaving bruises on her skin.
Alysanne rubbed herself against Jacaerys’ bulge, and because her only piece of clothing was a nightgown, the only thing separating them was his breeches, causing both to moan at the contact.
The room was getting hotter, with the heavy breathing and sweat that started to glisten in their bodies warming up the atmosphere.
Jacaerys’ eyes were close, and his head empty of thoughts, the mere feeling of his stepsister’s cunt making him dumb.
Alysanne´s hands moved to the straps of her nightgown, pushing them down just enough to show her tits.
“Jacey, open your eyes my love.” She whispered in his ear and the boy followed her request, coming to immediate disbelief, not expecting Alysanne’s bust to be right in front his face.
“Can I?” He asked nervously, not having the courage to express in full words what he wanted to say exactly.
The girl nodded, and carefully, Jace moved his hands touching Alysanne’s tits like they were a fragile piece of glass. She chuckled teasingly as his index fingers made round movements around her nipples.
“You can go harder you know? I’m not a doll.”
Jacaerys, hearing her words, gripped both of her breasts roughly, and as a moan left his stepsister’s mouth, he got even harder, felling like the fabric of his breeches was about to rip.
Alysanne grabbed his hair, pushing his head close to her chest. “Suck them brother.”
He widened his eyes, taking some seconds to fully process her words, and Alysanne, with her lack of patience, pulled his hair harder with her fingers, moving his head forcefully in the direction her tits.
If Jacaerys got uncomfortable with the sudden lack of delicacy of his stepsister, he didn’t show it, as he immediately opened his mouth and sucked on Alysanne’s left breast like a hungry babe.
“Fuck…You are so good Jace. Can´t believe I only discovered you now.” The Targaryen girl opened her mouth in silent moans, never once stopping her hips from moving against her stepbrother’s lap.
Jacaerys felt like his cock was going to explode. Never once in his life he had been this hard.
He had noticed Alysanne’s looks before, always having to look away when the siblings would go for a swim in the beach of Dragonstone, and her shift would stick to her body, giving him a perfect view of her bottom and chest. He was still in disbelief, but the feeling of guilt or treason had vanished from his head since he felt her bare cunt against him.
Alysanne moved Jace’s head again, withdrawing his mouth from her breast, making a thin thread of spit connect to her nipple. His eyebrows raised in a frown, as he didn’t like that he got stopped, until the girl carefully raised her hips, and slowly started to unlace his breaches.
“Are you ready brother?” She questioned and the boy nodded without hesitation, eager to finally feel her pussy fully around him.
Alysanne was pleasantly surprised upon the sight of her stepbrother’s cock. With only a handful of sexual experiences with one of the knights of the Dragonstone, Jacaerys’ manhood was big in length and width. Alysanne debuted her hand could fully close around it.
Before pushing her hips down again, the girl took her nightgown off, throwing it to some corner of the room.
Her cunt was glistening with wetness, making Jacaerys grunt at the sight.
Alysanne pushed one finger inside of her, whining at the feeling, only to pull it out and slowly press her wet and shiny digit to Jace’s lips.
The boy didn’t expect this action, but quickly let the surprise get away and instead allowed the curiosity to take hold of him. Opening his mouth carefully, he licked the wet substance that was touching his lips, being interrupted as Alysanne shoved her wet finger inside in mouth. Just like he did with her nipple, Jacaerys sucked like his life depended on it, loving the sweet taste of his stepsister in his mouth. It was sweater than any dessert he had ever tasted, and more addicting than any wine in the Seven Kingdoms.
The Targaryen girl chuckled amused with this moment, proceeding to leave delicate kisses on his neck.
Taking her finger of Jacaerys’ mouth, Alysanne connected her gaze with his, as she aligned his cock with her cunt, finally sinking down.
Both moaned loudly at the sensation. Alysanne felt full to a point of pain, and Jacaerys felt a tight and warm embrace in his manhood, that it was close enough to make him come.
“Fuck Jacey.” Alysanne pulled their lips together in a lustful and passionate kiss. It was hungry and desperate, both chasing each other’s tongue, not worrying about syncing the movements.
Alysanne started to move her hips, first at a slow pace, wanting to adjust to her stepbrother large cock, but Jacaerys was already impatient and wanted more. Groaning, he took hold of her hips, and pressed her down more on him. Alysanne felt like she could sob from pleasure, and moved her hips faster, making herself and Jace see stars.
“Aly you feel so good.” He moaned breathy, pressing small kisses on her tits.
The bed moved against the stone wall, making a noise that echoed through the room, but not high enough that could silence their sounds of pleasure.
Alysanne, feeling her leg muscles starting to get tired, slowed down a little, and Jace, sensing that, began to move his own hips upwards, thrusting into Alysanne´s pussy without mercy.
The girl’s eyes watered as his cock touched that spot, forcing her to bite into Jacaerys’ shoulder to prevent the scream that was about to leave her mouth from waking their family up.
They exchange gazes, and Jacaerys thought he was seeing an angle, upon the sight of Alysanne´s face. Her silver long hair was a mess, and her cheeks were flustered and red, but what really mesmerised him were her teary violet eyes and swollen lips. If he was meant to go to one of the seven heavens, he was sure they would never be more beautiful than this view.
Seeing his deep stare, Alysanne smiled softly and pressed a small kiss on Jacaerys’ lips.
“I’m close Aly.” He said making a low sound that rattled in his throat.
“Come inside me Jacey. Please brother.” She begged and the boy was quick to nod in agreement, but Alysanne could still see the hesitation in his eyes. She pushed Jace against the mattress, taking command of the pace again, and with all her strength, she rode Jace like the dragonrider she was.
“Gods...” He whispered, one hand on her back and the other on her ass, squeezing it tightly.
Fire burned in Alysanne’s belly, as her climax was also approaching. She moved her hand down, reaching for her cunt and toyed with her clit, wanting to reach the orgasm together with Jace.
Alysanne pressed her forehead with his, the sweat sticking their hair together, and Jacaerys’ brown eyes widen with adoration.
He felt like this was meant to be, Alysanne’s deep violet eyes looking into his and his hands worshiping every piece of her skin. He wasn´t sure if should be thanking the gods for her existence, as in the moment she was a goddess herself.
“Come on brother, let me give you a sweet babe with dark hair.” As this sentence left Alysanne´s mouth, Jacaerys’ was unable to hold it anymore and with a trembling heart, he lifted his large palm, and slapped the girl’s ass forcefully, immediately leaving a red bruise. Alysanne gasped, and finally, together, both reached their release. Alysanne clung to him, coming with a loud cry, and Jacaerys buried his face on her neck, muffling a deep moan into her skin.
Alysanne felt the warm release of her stepbrother filling her, and smiled, allowing her hips to continue moving, wanting to prolong both of their pleasure.
“Fuck...” Jace’s tired voice spoke as he carefully withdrawn her from his lap.
Alysanne moved to his side, putting her head in his chest and looked directly into his eyes.
“Did you enjoy it?” She questioned teasingly.
“What do you think?” The boy laughed and pressed a light kiss to her forehead.
The silence that now filled the room was an extreme contrast to the loud atmosphere that was bursting moments before.
Alysanne got what she wanted, and the happiness of being able to accomplish her goal, mixed with the pleasure she had felt, had brought her to a state of bliss.
Jacaerys on the other hand, was now contemplating his future. If his betrothal to Baela wasn´t important some minutes ago, now it was a screaming thought in his head.
When the betrothal was announced, he never for once got sad about it, with Baela being a kind and beautiful girl. But now, after having Alysanne in his arms, he knew that entire years of a marriage with Baela wouldn’t bring him the happiness he felt in a single night with Alysanne.
˗ˏˋ your lips, my lips ˎˊ˗ Jacaerys Velaryon
jacaerys velaryon x fem!wife!reader words: 5.6k synopsis: you remind Jacaerys that there is no shame in accepting help, especially from his wife. notes: this idea came to me in a fever dream the other day idek. this can be read as an au, it is implied that the dance happened but that luke is alive so idk. as i always say: do what you love. i think jace can be happy for a bit, as a treat. this is honestly like 3k fluff and 2k smut lol. pls lmk what you think <3 warnings: canon-typical injury. jace is so horny and in love that he becomes a poet! light dirty talk(mostly in valyrian bc jace is shy), very very brief breeding kink, slightly sub!jace, praise kink (mutual), slight size kink, hair pulling, pussy whipped jace, PiV creampie, reader rides him. valyrian is translated at the end (author uses a translator so if its wrong im sorry). feedback is appreciated<3 requests open. masterlist.
SHADOWS DANCE.
Toes cold upon empty stone, you pad across a corridor; short, illuminated in torchlight. A path you’ve taken many times.
Worry twists your fingers together, toying as you watch the silhouette of your night shift swish upon the contours of the wall. Chamber doors which connect the small hall to your own are open; an afterthought, perhaps, though your husband quite often prefers to slumber with his door to yours drawn open.
He is hurting.
Not in any dire way, not by far. Burns, the whispers had reached your ears - from maester to house worker to ladies in wait - burns, across the Prince’s palms; some troubles while handling dragonfire. You have been alive for long enough to have seen dragons dance, see the flesh melt from bones of even those coursing with Valyrian blood in their veins. You cannot imagine the pain of it, lying marred in his palms.
The maester has seen worse, you are told. He is not in too much pain, to your relief - he is neither sick nor hurting but rather unable to perform any tasks, no matter how menial; something you know your husband will not take lightly. Only a few paces and you reach his chambers, taking in the sandalwood and cedar smoking in small dipped sticks; a favor of his mothers, he told you once. He’s taken to them recently, to the comforting scent; as have you.
Feet move slowly into the archway; his chambers are always so much warmer than your own. Furs, thicker - bed, more comfortable, hearth, drawn larger. Though it is more likely to do with the company.
Your husband stands before the mirror of his chambers, his back upon you.
You watch for a moment - his brows, furrowed in the reflection, a razor is held rather uncertainly in a bandaged grasp. A pang through your stomach at the sight of the gauze, restricting his fingers; a kind glow of candlelight dances across concentrated eyes, once-steady hands trembling as he holds the blade against his cheek, head tilted back.
Slow breaths - your chest moves with his, as it seems to do more and more these days; a drag of a blade, the wobbling of which sets your teeth upon edge. Such a mundane chore, shaving: yet you know just as most how painful the burns of dragons may be upon flesh.
Your sweet husband is a proud soul; you can almost picture him, resolutely dismissing any offers of assistance before he readied himself for the night. Struggling to wet the razor, to lift it upon his face, yet doing so with a bristling determination. You linger, a specter in the doorway, fingers tracing the stone arch beside you as he works. Slow, determined.
His chest rises and falls beneath the simple tunic; unlaced, revealing the glimpse of skin awaiting beneath as he clenches his jaw, metal dragging against porcelain.
Though as soon as you draw a breath, a hiss from him - the razor has slipped, blood thinning in a bloom upon his cheek. Stark against such pale skin. He curses softly, thick brows knitting in some helplessness as his wounded fingers, shaking in pain or perhaps frustration, brush and come away crimson.
You step forward immediately, concern overriding all hesitations and shyness you’d felt previously.
"Jacaerys," your voice, soft and scarcely a whisper, carries through the room. Through the mirror your husband looks up, his eyes meeting yours.
A whisper of surprise in his visage that melts into some shade of embarrassment as he turns to you. Your name, falling from his plush lips, bitten in previous exasperation. His voice is warm, guilty. "I did not wish to wake you."
You shake your head softly - he’d not made a single sound since you returned from your evening duties to retire. You learned of his injuries through scarce whispers in the corners of your chamber, not from any loud disruptions from within his own.
Ignoring his words, you move closer - feet light, heart aching for his felt helplessness; A crimson tear beads out of the thin cut upon the cut on his cheek. You tilt your head to look into the warmth of his eyes. "You should not be doing this with your injuries," you chide, nodding to the strips of bandage around his palms.
A sigh from him, gentle nod as he looks down upon your expression. "I did not wish to trouble anyone," you find a touch of frustration still coloring his voice, but are not foolish enough to believe an ounce of it could ever be directed towards you. "I am not so helpless." he prepends with a clenched jaw.
Nodding, you gently take the razor from his loose grip. "No, you are not.” You agree gently, “Sit.”
You guide him to the table aside the mirror with light hands. He murmurs your name; it slips through his lips like honey. "I do not wish to burden you. It is late, I would not want to keep you awake."
You cannot help the surge of affection; your husband, so doting, thoughtful. A gentle touch to his cheek, your fingers grazing just under the fresh cut as you swipe away the red. "Sleep can wait.” Your voice is just as gentle as his own. “And you are not a burden; You are my husband. Your troubles are mine."
He sighs, a small appreciative smile growing upon his lips. "I resent being unable to tend to myself." he admits sheepishly.
You run your hands gently over his palm, tracing gently over where gauze conceals marred flesh. “You must heal fully so you might be of aid again soon.” You pull away, crossing the room to retrieve the cloth, oils, and small bowl of water; “In the meantime, there is no shame in accepting help. Especially not from your wife."
His eyes follow you upon your return, your sleep gown swishing against the quiet of the apartments; aware of the semi-sheerness of the fabric, you feel yourself flush. His smile is appreciative.
The bowl makes a small noise as you place it upon the table - you watch the soft illumination of your reflection ripple in the water. “I am a lucky man.” He says, as if to himself; you resist the shy smile that grows upon your lips, looking away from the contents of the bowl and shaking your head gently. He does not seem prepared to leave it be, though: “I scarcely know how I came to deserve someone as wonderful as you.”
He prefers it like this, you’ve learned; kindness, candor, sweet admissions - flushed cheeks, soft smiles. A true marriage, one being built with respect, with love. And still, moons after your union - every compliment you pay your husband he seems to return tenfold.
It is content, quiet against the spitting of embers in the hearth as you bend before him, seeking an angle safe enough to press the blade to his skin. A soft conversation, scarcely more than whispers in the eve - though you become weary at the prospect of a safe approach.
His legs spread wide as he watches you pace - expression somewhere between an amusement and puzzle; You let out a breath in a small huff as you draw a decision.
Your hand falls first onto his shoulder - a steadying grip as you slowly slide onto his lap, positioning yourself to see his face clearly; Jacaerys, with eyes widened in surprise and arms instinctively rising to hold you steady. Despite his injuries, his touch is firm, wrists pressing to you where hands cannot.
A thick swallow within his throat that you steadfastly ignore.
The touch of his arms around you, of your thighs straddling his lap - you burn, clearing your throat. Your voice comes, barely more than a breath. "Is this- alright?"
His lips, parted with the proximity, flutter before he finds words. “Y-yes. More than alright.”
With a small grin, you school yourself; pouring the oils upon your palms, you begin to smooth the ointment upon his skin. Cheeks, down the short shadow of stubble he has so resigned to eliminate this evening. A sharp jaw, a strong chin, plush lips. His breath is scarcely more than puffs against your cheeks as you press gently into his jaw muscle; his eyelashes flutter closed.
When you bring the blade to his skin, it is with no hesitation he tilts his head for you; eyeing you through lids, the apple of his cheeks warm in the light. You release a short breath and begin to shave him with slow, careful strokes. Jacaerys remains still, his eyes fixed - you drag the blade with light pressure, a relief building in you as you begin to effectively remove shadows from his cheek.
As you continue, the room grows quiet; a soft song of the gentle scrape of the blade and the crackling of the fire. Your heart may have fluttered ceaselessly had you been any less focused on ensuring you do not hurt him; Though there is no doubt - a very handsome man he is, and a very lucky wife he makes you.
“How did you learn such a skill?” His voice, curious as you tilt his jaw slightly. You do not pull your eyes from your task as you hum gently, aware of his warm stare.
“I’ve never done it before,” you admit, tilting your head along with him, focused on the glide of the blade against the bristled shadow of his jaw. “Though I watched my lord father do it many times. He’d often have me sing to my younger brothers before they were put to chamber - he tended to perform tasks as such when I did so. They used to love watching him.”
Jace nods contentedly, humming at your recount. "Lucerys used to watch me when he was younger, as well.” It seems at the memory he laughs gently - the motion stunted as you hold his face in your grip. “One day he decided he was old enough to give it a try. He sneaked into my chambers and took up my razor."
You can't help but smile at the image, lifting a brow. "And what came of it?"
You sit back, preoccupied with the story - your hand wipes the blade upon the rag beside you, meeting his warm gaze as his grin widens. "I found him standing before the mirror, razor in hand.” A flicker of his gaze to the mirror behind you before he finds you once more. “I tried to warn him, but he was too stubborn to heed me. So, I stood back and simply watched."
Your eyes widen, lips parting in mild amusement. "You let him to do it alone?"
He chuckles lightly, tongue prodding his lower lip. "I thought it best he learn a lesson.” His arms unconsciously pull you closer, readjusting your position upon his lap. You swallow down the warmth at such casual intimacy between he and you. “He managed a few strokes, was quite proud of himself, until... he nicked his lip." A small gesture with his jaw towards your own, his eyes focused on the bottom lip that has found itself caught between your teeth.
You lift your brows, your hand pausing as it rinses the blade in water. "Was he quite hurt?"
"No, just a small cut," Jacaerys soothes, laughter bubbling up again, eyes tearing from your lips up to your own warm gaze; your stomach flutters at the sound and you can no longer suppress a small giggle of your own. "But the look on his face! He was so indignant, I reckon more in his failure than the pain. He turned to me, lip trembling, and demanded to know why I hadn't helped him."
You swat his shoulder gently with the rag, trying to suppress your own laughter. "You are incorrigible, Jace. You laugh at your brother's misfortune?" You chide, teasing; He shrugs, still grinning as his eyes trace over your face warmly.
"It was a valuable lesson, one I had to learn myself once. Besides, he forgave me soon enough. I helped him finish shaving properly and patched him up. We've laughed about it many times since." His voice is soft against the crackle of flame, adjusting his posture slightly under your weight.
You laugh gently, the image of a young Jace and Luke pulling a grin to your lips. "You two are quite the pair."
Jacaerys’ eyes soften as he hums in agreement. "I have to let him make a fool of himself now and then."
He’s taken to moving a stray thumb - one not restricted with salves nor gauze - upon the line of your spine. A gentle ghost of affection as you shake your head fondly at him.
You hum, resuming your efforts, now moving towards his chin with a gentle grasp. "Well, just be glad I am here to ensure you do not cut yourself again. I should not trust you alone with a razor any longer." You tease, wrinkling your nose as you fix him with a faux stern stare.
Jace’s laugh is rich, warm. "You wound me, wife.”
The gentle laughter between you trails off amiably as you move your focus upon his upper lip; you, dutifully focused, worried of your own skills, knowing you could very easily slip and cut him - he, enduring your hand around his chin, eyes ceaseless upon your face as you move him how you please.
You finish the last stroke, setting the blade aside; his eyes are pools; sunlit amber. The cloth is wettened - you string it out and gently press it to his skin, wiping away the remnants of shaving oil and the small trail of blood from his previous nick.
Jace’s breaths rise and fall languidly with your own in the quiet of the chamber. Your movements are slow, tender; your focus entirely on him, ignoring the heat growing in your abdomen, his muscles flexing beneath you. A shift in the calm of the room; a once placated, gentle silence has grown into a thick, tense quiet - enunciated through short puffs of breath and the slow shifting of your bodies as you clean him.
A lean closer, his finger idly trailing your hip as much as the bandage might permit - you inspect his soft skin, the scent of the oils clouding your mind; lavender, cedar, sandalwood. Incense sticks have lost ember in the corner, the ocean rolling in tides upon the distant shores. You find no missed stubble, only undeniable affection in his eyes; you’ve begun to trace the cloth rather idly along his cheek, eyes rising to find his own gaze stuck upon your lips. Echoes of a house attendant walking out in the halls.
“Done,” You whisper, making no effort to rise from his lap; the warmth that has only grown has begun to make you sweat, that desire, still so new, growing between you. He shifts beneath you, staring blatantly, speaking no words. Worry flickers - a foolish thing, to worry when you’re with him - yet you still murmur your words. "Have I overstepped?” you ask softly, gaze flickering down to his plush, parted lips, watching as he shakes his head vehemently.
"Never," he breathes, "I’m merely admiring your beauty."
Heat. Jacaerys has never, not even in the earliest days of your betrothal, hesitated to praise you for your beauty, intelligence, wit, or heart; yet it still sets your mind dizzy each time. You send him a coy smile, hiding the flush of your cheeks under his compliment, “You only say such things because of the blade in my hand,” You tease.
Expecting a retort from your sharp husband, your eyes flicker to his; he grins at your jest, whispering, “I would speak such words even if you held nothing but air.”
His gaze roves over the heat of your cheeks, the flutter of your lashes. Want grows hot within you; to be seen, to be so cherished, it is more than you could wish. Jacaerys stirs your heart like no other could. You do not miss when he leans forward slightly, into your own space; the longing in his gaze is rather unmistakable, and it sends a rush of thrill through you.
Heart, singing in your chest. “Jace.” you whisper.
He breathes your name in response; a prayer.
“What are you thinking?” You hum, your breath hitting his own; your hands fall to grasp his shoulders, fingers trailing over the crook of his neck, the ties of his tunic.
"I'm thinking," His hands, despite their bandages, pull your hips upon his own quite subtly - your stuttered breath, shaky at the feeling of him beneath you, arousal growing just as your own. His voice is husky, "-that I’d like to kiss you."
A thrill in your stomach; you purse your lips against a smile of affection before closing the distance, your lips meeting his.
Warm, soft; gentle as he always is with you - but soon in the undercurrent of the late hour, of the thin material upon your frame, you feel fever infect you.
It comes in a tilt, sliding your nose against his own, lust coiling between your thighs; any tension of before melts, soon replaced by an urgent need to be closer. Your tongue finds the plush of his lower lip, sliding hungrily.
He groans softly against your mouth, his injured hands pulling you tight; The faint smell of incense, an intensity of desire matching your own - your hands tangle in his hair.
A wince as you shift, his hand flexing and drawing a grunt of pain from his lips.
You pull back instantly.
"Jace," you murmur in concern, even as his lips chase your own, a small bridge of saliva between you two in the firelight. Your voice is breathless, filled with longing. "We shouldn't. Your hands."
He shakes his head, his lips seeking yours. "I care not," he whispers fiercely. "If you cease for my sake, I will perish."
Your eyes roll at his dramatics, though your heart flutters at such fervent words. The desire in his eyes is undeniable, and you are finding it harder to resist such pretty requests. "I do not wish to hurt you," you protest softly, though your resolve weakens with each passing moment.
He gazes at you with a mixture of tenderness and longing. “You could never hurt me. Please, let me feel you. The only pain I feel is the distance between us.”
Unbelievable, his cunning knack for dramatics.
Despite the lifted brow you send him, there is an undeniable tremor within you, your hunger growing at the lilt of his tone. Perhaps, you should feel some kind of shyness; Indeed, you’re still learning of each other. You’ve lain with Jacaerys only a few times since being wed last moon—and yet perched so firmly atop his growing arousal, you can’t help the rush of need.
“Well,” You sigh, hand gracing his soft cheek with a small look of pride, “You mustn’t beg.”
He breathes as a smirk of his own grows, “I am a prince, dōna riña. Begging is beneath me.” He murmurs, eyes aflame with that teasing craving, “but I'd gladly beg if it means I get to have you.”
His ravenous words, mere kindle to the flame. “It is fortunate for you that I am so generous, then,” you murmur, seeking the warmth of his lips once more. He hums in agreement; a reverberation in his chest below your palms stirring a shiver through you. “Fortunate indeed,” he breathes. “Now please do not torture me any longer.”
You pull away from his searching lips just so, watching as he chases the warmth of your breath. "If you insist," you whisper, your lips brushing against his. His breath is sharp - he dislikes being so teased when he cannot deliver it in return. "I do insist.” he murmurs, words swallowed by the surge of him, teeth and noses clashing as you exhale, stomach flipping.
His tongue, sliding into your mouth; eager, you part lips for him. The chamber fades into shadows, a dim glow as the witness to your ardor, the only thing to hear such soft sighs and groans from you and Jacaerys. His lips leave you rather soon, peppering kisses upon the flushed skin of your neck.
A glance behind his shoulder as you cast your neck to the side - flickering shadows, intertwined with each other in a rather sensual embrace upon the wall; Jace’s nose pressed to the heartbeat of your throat as he bites gently against your skin.
His lips are fervent - the warmth of his breath, his chest heaving below your palms, the scent of his shaving oils - a fierce wildfire within you, consuming every thought but the touch of his body against your own.
An urge, the light pressure of his wrists, desperate to move you upon him - and then his voice, a growl. "Feel me," he breathes against your throat, pulling back so slightly to catch your gaze as his hands, light but insistent, press upon your waist.
You respond to his urging without a thought; your hips instinctively shifting, meeting the rise of his form with an eager press. The sensation is both thrilling and intoxicating - his moan of pleasure only spurs you on, a shiver of ecstasy as you press just so upon the sensitive of your heat.
The space between you is gone, the touch of his hands guiding your movements lightly, encouraging your slow rolling hips. The air is thick with the mingled scents of desire and embers low - you, lost in a sea of sensation. His breaths grow ragged, the intensity of his gaze never wavering as he watches you with a look of utter devotion. "Yes," he murmurs, his voice nearly breaking, "-like that, gods - let me feel every bit of you."
At such words, your cheeks heat vividly - you surrender to the heat of the moment, your movements growing more urgent, more desperate. His breaths are hot against your cheek as you let out a small moan, toes curling as you rove your hips, chasing the heat of pleasure.
Your movements become more frantic with each passing moment, the need to be close to him overwhelming your senses. His heart, beating as wild as a beast against your own chest; Your head grows dizzy with need, a small noise from the back of your throat as his wrists coax your hips against him.
“Jace,” Your breath comes in puffs, cheeks hot with the incessant need to feel him within you. “I need you.”
He hums against your mouth, tantalizing as he tilts his head, “I had not noticed.”
So cocky; you sigh, hips ceasing slightly, hands trailing over the fabric of his night shirt, feeling the warmth of his lean muscles beneath your palms. “You tease me.” You pout; he kisses the expression away with a small grin. You insist in the absence of a response, “You are cruel, to make it so hard for me to remain composed.” His arms pull you by the small of your back in an embrace - shivers over you as you feel his hard arousal drag along the heat of your aching cunt between too many layers of clothing.
“I would have you mad with desire, if it means knowing you are as consumed by me as I am by you.” He mutters into the shell of your ear. Your cheeks, constantly heating under his words, so effortlessly setting you afire.
You pull back enough to trail your lips over his jaw, dropping to press a soft bite upon the skin of his neck; savoring the soft noise, near whimper, from his lips. “You speak as though you haven’t already driven me mad,” You murmur into his skin, “Though I pay it willingly; I would have it no other way.”
To wait any longer would be torture; your hands, hungry and insistent, begin to gather the skirt of your sleep gown - Jace, watching with desire burning heavy in his eyes, hands lying uselessly - the glint of frustration in his gaze is not missed; though you know he wishes to touch you, you revel in the scarce opportunity to take care of him as he does you.
A soft smile plays upon your lips as you look into his fervent eyes, feeling the heat of his desire merge with your own; Slipping beneath his trousers, you let your fingers graze his skin just enough to drive him wild; deliberate, as slow as his own fingers often are when he finds himself between your thighs.
His cock is heavy upon your palm; your thighs, trembling with need as you place a few languid pumps upon him. His head, falling back, hands unable to truly grasp your hips - a groan, uninhibited as his brows knit together. “You’re a vision, my love.”
The endearment sends your hips in a short buck - grinding upon his cock, your arousal finds his own; a choked moan from yourself, falling forward to his chest. Laborious sliding of your hips over his own, spreading your need and coating his cock with your desire. Fingers, twitching against your spine - your own threading through his hair. Breaths together, short huffs and unsteady inhales as you finally guide yourself to the tip of his cock.
“Are you-” His swallow is thick, “Are you sure, love?” He has the gall to question you after such excruciating a wait - though as you stare into his eyes, a flicker, a fleeting observation; He has always taken more than enough time to prepare you to take him; it is no lie that he is rather blessed by the Father - Such memories heat your cheeks. And though you know it may sting, it does not matter to you; You would certainly welcome the sensation. You stir your hips, biting back a noise at the jolt of your sensitive clit against his cock. “Yes, Jace. And you?” You question. An insistent nod, a short groan - "Gods, yes- stop teasing me," he near whines. You conceal a small chuckle of amusement, pressing your lips soundly against him.
And you sink onto him slowly, eyes screwing shut at the sensation - he, with a low groan, head lolling back to expose the long stretch of his neck. A sharp exhale as you lower yourself, heart slamming as you’re filled; a sating desire within you, growing as you find yourself adjusting to him.
When you find yourself fully speared upon your husband, you let out a shuttering whimper; his fingers twitch where they lie, pupils blown wide as he gazes upon you. Your lips find his once more in hunger, whispers of moans swallowed, tongue warm as it slides into his mouth. He tastes of the anise candies he favors; a hint of wine, cherry and dark.
He remains, hips static as you breathe through the sensation of being full of him. His lips are fervent, though any wild need to feel you around him tamped momentarily by his concern for your own comfort and pleasure.
A distant rove of waves upon a shoreline; the memory of Jacaerys, flushed and wide-eyed the first time you shared his bed. You slowly grow accustomed to his size, the hunger boiling within you as you slowly shift, growing restless.
And slowly, experimentally - Jacaerys’ hips push slightly up against yours. You stir at the sensation, his cock pressing a spot deep within you - a keening gasp against him, swallowing his short moan with your lips. A slow lift of your hips, feeling him press against you - your eyes flutter shut once more as a flooding of pleasure courses through you, liquid fire within your veins.
“Gods, my love-” He nearly chokes, “J-just like that-”
Your small gasp as you begin to rock against his pelvis, cock stirring and pressing deliciously against the deepest part of you; upon shaky legs you rise, gently allowing his cock to drag out of your hungered cunt. “Jace,” Your voice is whiny, breathless - unsure what you plan on saying otherwise, your hands slide into the curly locks, tugging gently. He is rendered unable to speak, mouth open before moving to lick the slight salt from your skin.
A flush has grown upon your chest; your husband’s lips have found your breasts, peppering bites and lingering upon a spot just under your neckline, his groans reverberating within your skin. Steadying yourself upon him, you find a rhythm - his cock reaching the deepest parts of you, your head tilting back in true satisfaction, a heat coiling within your gut.
And his lips, ceasing only when your fingers tug at his curls; a curve in his own spine, head falling back against the back of the chair with a groan of pleasure. Heat curls and coils, lit afire by Jacaerys and the feeling of him reaching deep within you.
“Jace, you’re so deep-” You whisper, toes curling with the sounds of your shared desire echoing in the chamber softly. He lets out a small noise at your words, a smattering of pink across his cheeks; cock twitching with desire within you.
The hunger calls you. Without further consideration, you snake a hand between you, down to the heat of your cunt taking him, fingers shaking as you seek your yearning bundle of nerves; His eyes, lidded as he watches you. Jacaerys, in his endless pursuit to ensure your pleasures, has always provided his fingers or tongue to bring you closer to finish - though with him injured below you, you do not mind picking up such slack yourself.
Especially when it brings such deeply melodic sounds of need to his lips. Despite his arousal at your actions, your hand shies away - knowing whatever extension of pleasure you wish to give yourself will be no match for how he so often touches you. Your grip rises instead to steady yourself upon his shoulders, spearing yourself onto him in languid thrusts, ecstasy climbing within you like the wild of fire.
“Look at you, ābrazȳrys.” He mutters, pupils blown in pleasure, hips canting to meet yours. Though you speak not the language, you are familiar with such a word: wife. A shudder of pleasure at his ancient tongue - of which he has whispered many words to you, most unknown.
He, the picture of the gods below you, letting out a sharp exhale in his own pleasure. His lips, slick and bright, mutter your name - at the summon your gaze finds his own, molten and hungry as your hips move together, the feeling of his cock twitching within you, reaching a spot that has your back keening.
“I’m c-close.” He whispers, a heat upon his cheeks - embarrassment, perhaps, at his eagerness. His eyes find you; you’re met with that dark gaze, regally commanding as he speaks. “Gaomagon ziry. Touch yourself, love, I want to feel you.”
Gods save you.
Just as your husband wishes, you drop your fingers once more with no hesitation, jolting. You do not slow your pace; thighs burning, you keen forward, whispering his name against the pulse of his throat, groaning as your fingers press further, tight circles that bring shudders of pleasure.
“Jaesa, so pretty. Renigon aōla.” Jacaerys’ brows, knitted upwards in gratification; voice, leaking of desperation, of some kind of adulation. He quite often slips into that frantic tongue - the rush of pleasure, of ecstasy, his sharp mind rendered unable to decipher the common from the ancient tongue. You do not know the delicious words that fall from his lips, yet it does not matter - they spur you closer still towards completion.
“Jace, I’m close,” You hiss, teeth clenched in desire; your hips, dropping upon him slower, deeper; his arms pull you closer with a groan, lips falling to nip small marks into the smooth of your neck. A moan, unbidden from his sweet lips, “Do not stop, please-” he wishes, and who are you to deny such pretty begging?
When you hit your high of ecstasy, it is with a muffled moan of his name; into the thin linen of his tunic, legs slowing as you roll through pleasure, spasming gently around your husband. His own, quiet moan into your hair, wrists pulling you into him as he whispers, “Yes, ñuha sȳz byka ābrazȳrys, fuck-”
A thrill within you as you ride your high, such vulgar of a word from your husband; and all, your doing. A frantic whimper from your lips into his throat as he bucks his hips up into you, chasing his own high with a soft whimper. “You feel so good, Jacaerys.” You keen, raising to his face as you feel his abdominal muscles tense beneath you; pressing your forehead to his own, you ride through your completion, heavy breaths upon each other.
Noses sliding against his, you drink his small groans, holding him close; a ghost of his lips against yours, a nip of your lip by his teeth. Long lashes fluttering, Jace finds his own high. He releases his seed into you; you feel him, his hips thrusting up into you weakly as the warmth of him spreads within you. His breath, hot against your cheek, lips chasing yours as you pull away slightly, the slight shift in position sending you both in a harmony of whimpers at the sensitivity.
The chamber’s hearth spits and crackles; an ember lands near the floor beside the chair. It smolders out, fading slowly into darkness against the stone as you rest your cheek against Jacaerys’ chest, pleased by his gentle kisses upon your hairline.
After moments of silence, basking in your shared pleasure, you press a kiss to his chest. “Are you alright?” He asks gently, soothing over your spine with the soft of his forearms.
You let out a shaky sigh of satisfaction as you pull back, feeling his cock within you - a fleeting thought; you hope his seed takes. He watches you, eyes warm and gentle as a shaky finger, curled in pain, wipes a stray strand of hair from your forehead - you nod, lifting your hand thumb away the bead of blood that has appeared once more on his cheek; “Yes. And you?” You wonder, pressing a kiss to the freckle upon his lip.
His smile is the kind that makes your heart skip beats. “Always.”
translations; dōna riña - sweet girl
ābrazȳrys - wife
Gaomagon ziry - do it
Jaesa - goddess, holy/divine woman
Renigon aōla - touch yourself
ñuha sȳz byka ābrazȳrys - my good little wife
taglist: @bitchydragonparadisee @lukehughes43 @rhea-ripley @jottositto @chloe-petrichors @elaena-aerrin @smurfelle @greenvita @alyssa-dayne
I love love love how the Jace girlies and nation have decided that Jace waxes poet when he's pussydrunk, like it is so canon to me
Jace being so dramatic pls, he really be out here acting as if he's going to die if he doesn't get kissed
Also love how the Jace girlies ignored the show and just decided that Jace is very fluent in valyrian and I agree with that notion
Oh Jacaerys Velaryon you would have loved making your wife your passcode, lockscreen and homescreen
He and Luke are just so cute and hilarious, the most iconic brother duo of all time actually
SAVE A DRAGON, RIDE A TARGARYEN
SAVE A DRAGON, RIDE A TARGARYEN–
GO GIRL RIDE HIM LIKE HE'S VERMAX
Dragon and dragon rider fr lmao
This kind of yearning can only belong to a targaryen man I fear
˗ˏˋ your lips, my lips ˎˊ˗ Jacaerys Velaryon
jacaerys velaryon x fem!wife!reader words: 5.6k synopsis: you remind Jacaerys that there is no shame in accepting help, especially from his wife. notes: this idea came to me in a fever dream the other day idek. this can be read as an au, it is implied that the dance happened but that luke is alive so idk. as i always say: do what you love. i think jace can be happy for a bit, as a treat. this is honestly like 3k fluff and 2k smut lol. pls lmk what you think <3 warnings: canon-typical injury. jace is so horny and in love that he becomes a poet! light dirty talk(mostly in valyrian bc jace is shy), very very brief breeding kink, slightly sub!jace, praise kink (mutual), slight size kink, hair pulling, pussy whipped jace, PiV creampie, reader rides him. valyrian is translated at the end (author uses a translator so if its wrong im sorry). feedback is appreciated<3 requests open. masterlist.
SHADOWS DANCE.
Toes cold upon empty stone, you pad across a corridor; short, illuminated in torchlight. A path you’ve taken many times.
Worry twists your fingers together, toying as you watch the silhouette of your night shift swish upon the contours of the wall. Chamber doors which connect the small hall to your own are open; an afterthought, perhaps, though your husband quite often prefers to slumber with his door to yours drawn open.
He is hurting.
Not in any dire way, not by far. Burns, the whispers had reached your ears - from maester to house worker to ladies in wait - burns, across the Prince’s palms; some troubles while handling dragonfire. You have been alive for long enough to have seen dragons dance, see the flesh melt from bones of even those coursing with Valyrian blood in their veins. You cannot imagine the pain of it, lying marred in his palms.
The maester has seen worse, you are told. He is not in too much pain, to your relief - he is neither sick nor hurting but rather unable to perform any tasks, no matter how menial; something you know your husband will not take lightly. Only a few paces and you reach his chambers, taking in the sandalwood and cedar smoking in small dipped sticks; a favor of his mothers, he told you once. He’s taken to them recently, to the comforting scent; as have you.
Feet move slowly into the archway; his chambers are always so much warmer than your own. Furs, thicker - bed, more comfortable, hearth, drawn larger. Though it is more likely to do with the company.
Your husband stands before the mirror of his chambers, his back upon you.
You watch for a moment - his brows, furrowed in the reflection, a razor is held rather uncertainly in a bandaged grasp. A pang through your stomach at the sight of the gauze, restricting his fingers; a kind glow of candlelight dances across concentrated eyes, once-steady hands trembling as he holds the blade against his cheek, head tilted back.
Slow breaths - your chest moves with his, as it seems to do more and more these days; a drag of a blade, the wobbling of which sets your teeth upon edge. Such a mundane chore, shaving: yet you know just as most how painful the burns of dragons may be upon flesh.
Your sweet husband is a proud soul; you can almost picture him, resolutely dismissing any offers of assistance before he readied himself for the night. Struggling to wet the razor, to lift it upon his face, yet doing so with a bristling determination. You linger, a specter in the doorway, fingers tracing the stone arch beside you as he works. Slow, determined.
His chest rises and falls beneath the simple tunic; unlaced, revealing the glimpse of skin awaiting beneath as he clenches his jaw, metal dragging against porcelain.
Though as soon as you draw a breath, a hiss from him - the razor has slipped, blood thinning in a bloom upon his cheek. Stark against such pale skin. He curses softly, thick brows knitting in some helplessness as his wounded fingers, shaking in pain or perhaps frustration, brush and come away crimson.
You step forward immediately, concern overriding all hesitations and shyness you’d felt previously.
"Jacaerys," your voice, soft and scarcely a whisper, carries through the room. Through the mirror your husband looks up, his eyes meeting yours.
A whisper of surprise in his visage that melts into some shade of embarrassment as he turns to you. Your name, falling from his plush lips, bitten in previous exasperation. His voice is warm, guilty. "I did not wish to wake you."
You shake your head softly - he’d not made a single sound since you returned from your evening duties to retire. You learned of his injuries through scarce whispers in the corners of your chamber, not from any loud disruptions from within his own.
Ignoring his words, you move closer - feet light, heart aching for his felt helplessness; A crimson tear beads out of the thin cut upon the cut on his cheek. You tilt your head to look into the warmth of his eyes. "You should not be doing this with your injuries," you chide, nodding to the strips of bandage around his palms.
A sigh from him, gentle nod as he looks down upon your expression. "I did not wish to trouble anyone," you find a touch of frustration still coloring his voice, but are not foolish enough to believe an ounce of it could ever be directed towards you. "I am not so helpless." he prepends with a clenched jaw.
Nodding, you gently take the razor from his loose grip. "No, you are not.” You agree gently, “Sit.”
You guide him to the table aside the mirror with light hands. He murmurs your name; it slips through his lips like honey. "I do not wish to burden you. It is late, I would not want to keep you awake."
You cannot help the surge of affection; your husband, so doting, thoughtful. A gentle touch to his cheek, your fingers grazing just under the fresh cut as you swipe away the red. "Sleep can wait.” Your voice is just as gentle as his own. “And you are not a burden; You are my husband. Your troubles are mine."
He sighs, a small appreciative smile growing upon his lips. "I resent being unable to tend to myself." he admits sheepishly.
You run your hands gently over his palm, tracing gently over where gauze conceals marred flesh. “You must heal fully so you might be of aid again soon.” You pull away, crossing the room to retrieve the cloth, oils, and small bowl of water; “In the meantime, there is no shame in accepting help. Especially not from your wife."
His eyes follow you upon your return, your sleep gown swishing against the quiet of the apartments; aware of the semi-sheerness of the fabric, you feel yourself flush. His smile is appreciative.
The bowl makes a small noise as you place it upon the table - you watch the soft illumination of your reflection ripple in the water. “I am a lucky man.” He says, as if to himself; you resist the shy smile that grows upon your lips, looking away from the contents of the bowl and shaking your head gently. He does not seem prepared to leave it be, though: “I scarcely know how I came to deserve someone as wonderful as you.”
He prefers it like this, you’ve learned; kindness, candor, sweet admissions - flushed cheeks, soft smiles. A true marriage, one being built with respect, with love. And still, moons after your union - every compliment you pay your husband he seems to return tenfold.
It is content, quiet against the spitting of embers in the hearth as you bend before him, seeking an angle safe enough to press the blade to his skin. A soft conversation, scarcely more than whispers in the eve - though you become weary at the prospect of a safe approach.
His legs spread wide as he watches you pace - expression somewhere between an amusement and puzzle; You let out a breath in a small huff as you draw a decision.
Your hand falls first onto his shoulder - a steadying grip as you slowly slide onto his lap, positioning yourself to see his face clearly; Jacaerys, with eyes widened in surprise and arms instinctively rising to hold you steady. Despite his injuries, his touch is firm, wrists pressing to you where hands cannot.
A thick swallow within his throat that you steadfastly ignore.
The touch of his arms around you, of your thighs straddling his lap - you burn, clearing your throat. Your voice comes, barely more than a breath. "Is this- alright?"
His lips, parted with the proximity, flutter before he finds words. “Y-yes. More than alright.”
With a small grin, you school yourself; pouring the oils upon your palms, you begin to smooth the ointment upon his skin. Cheeks, down the short shadow of stubble he has so resigned to eliminate this evening. A sharp jaw, a strong chin, plush lips. His breath is scarcely more than puffs against your cheeks as you press gently into his jaw muscle; his eyelashes flutter closed.
When you bring the blade to his skin, it is with no hesitation he tilts his head for you; eyeing you through lids, the apple of his cheeks warm in the light. You release a short breath and begin to shave him with slow, careful strokes. Jacaerys remains still, his eyes fixed - you drag the blade with light pressure, a relief building in you as you begin to effectively remove shadows from his cheek.
As you continue, the room grows quiet; a soft song of the gentle scrape of the blade and the crackling of the fire. Your heart may have fluttered ceaselessly had you been any less focused on ensuring you do not hurt him; Though there is no doubt - a very handsome man he is, and a very lucky wife he makes you.
“How did you learn such a skill?” His voice, curious as you tilt his jaw slightly. You do not pull your eyes from your task as you hum gently, aware of his warm stare.
“I’ve never done it before,” you admit, tilting your head along with him, focused on the glide of the blade against the bristled shadow of his jaw. “Though I watched my lord father do it many times. He’d often have me sing to my younger brothers before they were put to chamber - he tended to perform tasks as such when I did so. They used to love watching him.”
Jace nods contentedly, humming at your recount. "Lucerys used to watch me when he was younger, as well.” It seems at the memory he laughs gently - the motion stunted as you hold his face in your grip. “One day he decided he was old enough to give it a try. He sneaked into my chambers and took up my razor."
You can't help but smile at the image, lifting a brow. "And what came of it?"
You sit back, preoccupied with the story - your hand wipes the blade upon the rag beside you, meeting his warm gaze as his grin widens. "I found him standing before the mirror, razor in hand.” A flicker of his gaze to the mirror behind you before he finds you once more. “I tried to warn him, but he was too stubborn to heed me. So, I stood back and simply watched."
Your eyes widen, lips parting in mild amusement. "You let him to do it alone?"
He chuckles lightly, tongue prodding his lower lip. "I thought it best he learn a lesson.” His arms unconsciously pull you closer, readjusting your position upon his lap. You swallow down the warmth at such casual intimacy between he and you. “He managed a few strokes, was quite proud of himself, until... he nicked his lip." A small gesture with his jaw towards your own, his eyes focused on the bottom lip that has found itself caught between your teeth.
You lift your brows, your hand pausing as it rinses the blade in water. "Was he quite hurt?"
"No, just a small cut," Jacaerys soothes, laughter bubbling up again, eyes tearing from your lips up to your own warm gaze; your stomach flutters at the sound and you can no longer suppress a small giggle of your own. "But the look on his face! He was so indignant, I reckon more in his failure than the pain. He turned to me, lip trembling, and demanded to know why I hadn't helped him."
You swat his shoulder gently with the rag, trying to suppress your own laughter. "You are incorrigible, Jace. You laugh at your brother's misfortune?" You chide, teasing; He shrugs, still grinning as his eyes trace over your face warmly.
"It was a valuable lesson, one I had to learn myself once. Besides, he forgave me soon enough. I helped him finish shaving properly and patched him up. We've laughed about it many times since." His voice is soft against the crackle of flame, adjusting his posture slightly under your weight.
You laugh gently, the image of a young Jace and Luke pulling a grin to your lips. "You two are quite the pair."
Jacaerys’ eyes soften as he hums in agreement. "I have to let him make a fool of himself now and then."
He’s taken to moving a stray thumb - one not restricted with salves nor gauze - upon the line of your spine. A gentle ghost of affection as you shake your head fondly at him.
You hum, resuming your efforts, now moving towards his chin with a gentle grasp. "Well, just be glad I am here to ensure you do not cut yourself again. I should not trust you alone with a razor any longer." You tease, wrinkling your nose as you fix him with a faux stern stare.
Jace’s laugh is rich, warm. "You wound me, wife.”
The gentle laughter between you trails off amiably as you move your focus upon his upper lip; you, dutifully focused, worried of your own skills, knowing you could very easily slip and cut him - he, enduring your hand around his chin, eyes ceaseless upon your face as you move him how you please.
You finish the last stroke, setting the blade aside; his eyes are pools; sunlit amber. The cloth is wettened - you string it out and gently press it to his skin, wiping away the remnants of shaving oil and the small trail of blood from his previous nick.
Jace’s breaths rise and fall languidly with your own in the quiet of the chamber. Your movements are slow, tender; your focus entirely on him, ignoring the heat growing in your abdomen, his muscles flexing beneath you. A shift in the calm of the room; a once placated, gentle silence has grown into a thick, tense quiet - enunciated through short puffs of breath and the slow shifting of your bodies as you clean him.
A lean closer, his finger idly trailing your hip as much as the bandage might permit - you inspect his soft skin, the scent of the oils clouding your mind; lavender, cedar, sandalwood. Incense sticks have lost ember in the corner, the ocean rolling in tides upon the distant shores. You find no missed stubble, only undeniable affection in his eyes; you’ve begun to trace the cloth rather idly along his cheek, eyes rising to find his own gaze stuck upon your lips. Echoes of a house attendant walking out in the halls.
“Done,” You whisper, making no effort to rise from his lap; the warmth that has only grown has begun to make you sweat, that desire, still so new, growing between you. He shifts beneath you, staring blatantly, speaking no words. Worry flickers - a foolish thing, to worry when you’re with him - yet you still murmur your words. "Have I overstepped?” you ask softly, gaze flickering down to his plush, parted lips, watching as he shakes his head vehemently.
"Never," he breathes, "I’m merely admiring your beauty."
Heat. Jacaerys has never, not even in the earliest days of your betrothal, hesitated to praise you for your beauty, intelligence, wit, or heart; yet it still sets your mind dizzy each time. You send him a coy smile, hiding the flush of your cheeks under his compliment, “You only say such things because of the blade in my hand,” You tease.
Expecting a retort from your sharp husband, your eyes flicker to his; he grins at your jest, whispering, “I would speak such words even if you held nothing but air.”
His gaze roves over the heat of your cheeks, the flutter of your lashes. Want grows hot within you; to be seen, to be so cherished, it is more than you could wish. Jacaerys stirs your heart like no other could. You do not miss when he leans forward slightly, into your own space; the longing in his gaze is rather unmistakable, and it sends a rush of thrill through you.
Heart, singing in your chest. “Jace.” you whisper.
He breathes your name in response; a prayer.
“What are you thinking?” You hum, your breath hitting his own; your hands fall to grasp his shoulders, fingers trailing over the crook of his neck, the ties of his tunic.
"I'm thinking," His hands, despite their bandages, pull your hips upon his own quite subtly - your stuttered breath, shaky at the feeling of him beneath you, arousal growing just as your own. His voice is husky, "-that I’d like to kiss you."
A thrill in your stomach; you purse your lips against a smile of affection before closing the distance, your lips meeting his.
Warm, soft; gentle as he always is with you - but soon in the undercurrent of the late hour, of the thin material upon your frame, you feel fever infect you.
It comes in a tilt, sliding your nose against his own, lust coiling between your thighs; any tension of before melts, soon replaced by an urgent need to be closer. Your tongue finds the plush of his lower lip, sliding hungrily.
He groans softly against your mouth, his injured hands pulling you tight; The faint smell of incense, an intensity of desire matching your own - your hands tangle in his hair.
A wince as you shift, his hand flexing and drawing a grunt of pain from his lips.
You pull back instantly.
"Jace," you murmur in concern, even as his lips chase your own, a small bridge of saliva between you two in the firelight. Your voice is breathless, filled with longing. "We shouldn't. Your hands."
He shakes his head, his lips seeking yours. "I care not," he whispers fiercely. "If you cease for my sake, I will perish."
Your eyes roll at his dramatics, though your heart flutters at such fervent words. The desire in his eyes is undeniable, and you are finding it harder to resist such pretty requests. "I do not wish to hurt you," you protest softly, though your resolve weakens with each passing moment.
He gazes at you with a mixture of tenderness and longing. “You could never hurt me. Please, let me feel you. The only pain I feel is the distance between us.”
Unbelievable, his cunning knack for dramatics.
Despite the lifted brow you send him, there is an undeniable tremor within you, your hunger growing at the lilt of his tone. Perhaps, you should feel some kind of shyness; Indeed, you’re still learning of each other. You’ve lain with Jacaerys only a few times since being wed last moon—and yet perched so firmly atop his growing arousal, you can’t help the rush of need.
“Well,” You sigh, hand gracing his soft cheek with a small look of pride, “You mustn’t beg.”
He breathes as a smirk of his own grows, “I am a prince, dōna riña. Begging is beneath me.” He murmurs, eyes aflame with that teasing craving, “but I'd gladly beg if it means I get to have you.”
His ravenous words, mere kindle to the flame. “It is fortunate for you that I am so generous, then,” you murmur, seeking the warmth of his lips once more. He hums in agreement; a reverberation in his chest below your palms stirring a shiver through you. “Fortunate indeed,” he breathes. “Now please do not torture me any longer.”
You pull away from his searching lips just so, watching as he chases the warmth of your breath. "If you insist," you whisper, your lips brushing against his. His breath is sharp - he dislikes being so teased when he cannot deliver it in return. "I do insist.” he murmurs, words swallowed by the surge of him, teeth and noses clashing as you exhale, stomach flipping.
His tongue, sliding into your mouth; eager, you part lips for him. The chamber fades into shadows, a dim glow as the witness to your ardor, the only thing to hear such soft sighs and groans from you and Jacaerys. His lips leave you rather soon, peppering kisses upon the flushed skin of your neck.
A glance behind his shoulder as you cast your neck to the side - flickering shadows, intertwined with each other in a rather sensual embrace upon the wall; Jace’s nose pressed to the heartbeat of your throat as he bites gently against your skin.
His lips are fervent - the warmth of his breath, his chest heaving below your palms, the scent of his shaving oils - a fierce wildfire within you, consuming every thought but the touch of his body against your own.
An urge, the light pressure of his wrists, desperate to move you upon him - and then his voice, a growl. "Feel me," he breathes against your throat, pulling back so slightly to catch your gaze as his hands, light but insistent, press upon your waist.
You respond to his urging without a thought; your hips instinctively shifting, meeting the rise of his form with an eager press. The sensation is both thrilling and intoxicating - his moan of pleasure only spurs you on, a shiver of ecstasy as you press just so upon the sensitive of your heat.
The space between you is gone, the touch of his hands guiding your movements lightly, encouraging your slow rolling hips. The air is thick with the mingled scents of desire and embers low - you, lost in a sea of sensation. His breaths grow ragged, the intensity of his gaze never wavering as he watches you with a look of utter devotion. "Yes," he murmurs, his voice nearly breaking, "-like that, gods - let me feel every bit of you."
At such words, your cheeks heat vividly - you surrender to the heat of the moment, your movements growing more urgent, more desperate. His breaths are hot against your cheek as you let out a small moan, toes curling as you rove your hips, chasing the heat of pleasure.
Your movements become more frantic with each passing moment, the need to be close to him overwhelming your senses. His heart, beating as wild as a beast against your own chest; Your head grows dizzy with need, a small noise from the back of your throat as his wrists coax your hips against him.
“Jace,” Your breath comes in puffs, cheeks hot with the incessant need to feel him within you. “I need you.”
He hums against your mouth, tantalizing as he tilts his head, “I had not noticed.”
So cocky; you sigh, hips ceasing slightly, hands trailing over the fabric of his night shirt, feeling the warmth of his lean muscles beneath your palms. “You tease me.” You pout; he kisses the expression away with a small grin. You insist in the absence of a response, “You are cruel, to make it so hard for me to remain composed.” His arms pull you by the small of your back in an embrace - shivers over you as you feel his hard arousal drag along the heat of your aching cunt between too many layers of clothing.
“I would have you mad with desire, if it means knowing you are as consumed by me as I am by you.” He mutters into the shell of your ear. Your cheeks, constantly heating under his words, so effortlessly setting you afire.
You pull back enough to trail your lips over his jaw, dropping to press a soft bite upon the skin of his neck; savoring the soft noise, near whimper, from his lips. “You speak as though you haven’t already driven me mad,” You murmur into his skin, “Though I pay it willingly; I would have it no other way.”
To wait any longer would be torture; your hands, hungry and insistent, begin to gather the skirt of your sleep gown - Jace, watching with desire burning heavy in his eyes, hands lying uselessly - the glint of frustration in his gaze is not missed; though you know he wishes to touch you, you revel in the scarce opportunity to take care of him as he does you.
A soft smile plays upon your lips as you look into his fervent eyes, feeling the heat of his desire merge with your own; Slipping beneath his trousers, you let your fingers graze his skin just enough to drive him wild; deliberate, as slow as his own fingers often are when he finds himself between your thighs.
His cock is heavy upon your palm; your thighs, trembling with need as you place a few languid pumps upon him. His head, falling back, hands unable to truly grasp your hips - a groan, uninhibited as his brows knit together. “You’re a vision, my love.”
The endearment sends your hips in a short buck - grinding upon his cock, your arousal finds his own; a choked moan from yourself, falling forward to his chest. Laborious sliding of your hips over his own, spreading your need and coating his cock with your desire. Fingers, twitching against your spine - your own threading through his hair. Breaths together, short huffs and unsteady inhales as you finally guide yourself to the tip of his cock.
“Are you-” His swallow is thick, “Are you sure, love?” He has the gall to question you after such excruciating a wait - though as you stare into his eyes, a flicker, a fleeting observation; He has always taken more than enough time to prepare you to take him; it is no lie that he is rather blessed by the Father - Such memories heat your cheeks. And though you know it may sting, it does not matter to you; You would certainly welcome the sensation. You stir your hips, biting back a noise at the jolt of your sensitive clit against his cock. “Yes, Jace. And you?” You question. An insistent nod, a short groan - "Gods, yes- stop teasing me," he near whines. You conceal a small chuckle of amusement, pressing your lips soundly against him.
And you sink onto him slowly, eyes screwing shut at the sensation - he, with a low groan, head lolling back to expose the long stretch of his neck. A sharp exhale as you lower yourself, heart slamming as you’re filled; a sating desire within you, growing as you find yourself adjusting to him.
When you find yourself fully speared upon your husband, you let out a shuttering whimper; his fingers twitch where they lie, pupils blown wide as he gazes upon you. Your lips find his once more in hunger, whispers of moans swallowed, tongue warm as it slides into his mouth. He tastes of the anise candies he favors; a hint of wine, cherry and dark.
He remains, hips static as you breathe through the sensation of being full of him. His lips are fervent, though any wild need to feel you around him tamped momentarily by his concern for your own comfort and pleasure.
A distant rove of waves upon a shoreline; the memory of Jacaerys, flushed and wide-eyed the first time you shared his bed. You slowly grow accustomed to his size, the hunger boiling within you as you slowly shift, growing restless.
And slowly, experimentally - Jacaerys’ hips push slightly up against yours. You stir at the sensation, his cock pressing a spot deep within you - a keening gasp against him, swallowing his short moan with your lips. A slow lift of your hips, feeling him press against you - your eyes flutter shut once more as a flooding of pleasure courses through you, liquid fire within your veins.
“Gods, my love-” He nearly chokes, “J-just like that-”
Your small gasp as you begin to rock against his pelvis, cock stirring and pressing deliciously against the deepest part of you; upon shaky legs you rise, gently allowing his cock to drag out of your hungered cunt. “Jace,” Your voice is whiny, breathless - unsure what you plan on saying otherwise, your hands slide into the curly locks, tugging gently. He is rendered unable to speak, mouth open before moving to lick the slight salt from your skin.
A flush has grown upon your chest; your husband’s lips have found your breasts, peppering bites and lingering upon a spot just under your neckline, his groans reverberating within your skin. Steadying yourself upon him, you find a rhythm - his cock reaching the deepest parts of you, your head tilting back in true satisfaction, a heat coiling within your gut.
And his lips, ceasing only when your fingers tug at his curls; a curve in his own spine, head falling back against the back of the chair with a groan of pleasure. Heat curls and coils, lit afire by Jacaerys and the feeling of him reaching deep within you.
“Jace, you’re so deep-” You whisper, toes curling with the sounds of your shared desire echoing in the chamber softly. He lets out a small noise at your words, a smattering of pink across his cheeks; cock twitching with desire within you.
The hunger calls you. Without further consideration, you snake a hand between you, down to the heat of your cunt taking him, fingers shaking as you seek your yearning bundle of nerves; His eyes, lidded as he watches you. Jacaerys, in his endless pursuit to ensure your pleasures, has always provided his fingers or tongue to bring you closer to finish - though with him injured below you, you do not mind picking up such slack yourself.
Especially when it brings such deeply melodic sounds of need to his lips. Despite his arousal at your actions, your hand shies away - knowing whatever extension of pleasure you wish to give yourself will be no match for how he so often touches you. Your grip rises instead to steady yourself upon his shoulders, spearing yourself onto him in languid thrusts, ecstasy climbing within you like the wild of fire.
“Look at you, ābrazȳrys.” He mutters, pupils blown in pleasure, hips canting to meet yours. Though you speak not the language, you are familiar with such a word: wife. A shudder of pleasure at his ancient tongue - of which he has whispered many words to you, most unknown.
He, the picture of the gods below you, letting out a sharp exhale in his own pleasure. His lips, slick and bright, mutter your name - at the summon your gaze finds his own, molten and hungry as your hips move together, the feeling of his cock twitching within you, reaching a spot that has your back keening.
“I’m c-close.” He whispers, a heat upon his cheeks - embarrassment, perhaps, at his eagerness. His eyes find you; you’re met with that dark gaze, regally commanding as he speaks. “Gaomagon ziry. Touch yourself, love, I want to feel you.”
Gods save you.
Just as your husband wishes, you drop your fingers once more with no hesitation, jolting. You do not slow your pace; thighs burning, you keen forward, whispering his name against the pulse of his throat, groaning as your fingers press further, tight circles that bring shudders of pleasure.
“Jaesa, so pretty. Renigon aōla.” Jacaerys’ brows, knitted upwards in gratification; voice, leaking of desperation, of some kind of adulation. He quite often slips into that frantic tongue - the rush of pleasure, of ecstasy, his sharp mind rendered unable to decipher the common from the ancient tongue. You do not know the delicious words that fall from his lips, yet it does not matter - they spur you closer still towards completion.
“Jace, I’m close,” You hiss, teeth clenched in desire; your hips, dropping upon him slower, deeper; his arms pull you closer with a groan, lips falling to nip small marks into the smooth of your neck. A moan, unbidden from his sweet lips, “Do not stop, please-” he wishes, and who are you to deny such pretty begging?
When you hit your high of ecstasy, it is with a muffled moan of his name; into the thin linen of his tunic, legs slowing as you roll through pleasure, spasming gently around your husband. His own, quiet moan into your hair, wrists pulling you into him as he whispers, “Yes, ñuha sȳz byka ābrazȳrys, fuck-”
A thrill within you as you ride your high, such vulgar of a word from your husband; and all, your doing. A frantic whimper from your lips into his throat as he bucks his hips up into you, chasing his own high with a soft whimper. “You feel so good, Jacaerys.” You keen, raising to his face as you feel his abdominal muscles tense beneath you; pressing your forehead to his own, you ride through your completion, heavy breaths upon each other.
Noses sliding against his, you drink his small groans, holding him close; a ghost of his lips against yours, a nip of your lip by his teeth. Long lashes fluttering, Jace finds his own high. He releases his seed into you; you feel him, his hips thrusting up into you weakly as the warmth of him spreads within you. His breath, hot against your cheek, lips chasing yours as you pull away slightly, the slight shift in position sending you both in a harmony of whimpers at the sensitivity.
The chamber’s hearth spits and crackles; an ember lands near the floor beside the chair. It smolders out, fading slowly into darkness against the stone as you rest your cheek against Jacaerys’ chest, pleased by his gentle kisses upon your hairline.
After moments of silence, basking in your shared pleasure, you press a kiss to his chest. “Are you alright?” He asks gently, soothing over your spine with the soft of his forearms.
You let out a shaky sigh of satisfaction as you pull back, feeling his cock within you - a fleeting thought; you hope his seed takes. He watches you, eyes warm and gentle as a shaky finger, curled in pain, wipes a stray strand of hair from your forehead - you nod, lifting your hand thumb away the bead of blood that has appeared once more on his cheek; “Yes. And you?” You wonder, pressing a kiss to the freckle upon his lip.
His smile is the kind that makes your heart skip beats. “Always.”
translations; dōna riña - sweet girl
ābrazȳrys - wife
Gaomagon ziry - do it
Jaesa - goddess, holy/divine woman
Renigon aōla - touch yourself
ñuha sȳz byka ābrazȳrys - my good little wife
taglist: @bitchydragonparadisee @lukehughes43 @rhea-ripley @jottositto @chloe-petrichors @elaena-aerrin @smurfelle @greenvita @alyssa-dayne
NSFW Visuals ➢ House of the Dragon
synopsis :: various smutty scenarios & nsfw twitter links
includes: Aegon ii Targaryen, Aemond Targaryen, Jacaerys Velaryon, & Helaena Targaryen
warning(s): NO MINORS!!, smut, straight up porn, sinful really
Keep reading
I hope you know you are a god to me 🧎♀️🛐
Could you post some wedding night visuals for all our fine ass HOTD men???
I hope you find a 100 dollar bill on the ground
omg I'm glad and blushing ☺️💖 thanks, love. And of course here are some visuals for our men. Hope u like them 😘
NSFW ! hotd men
tw. twt p*rn. explicit visuals. 18+
Criston Cole:
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Harwin Strong:
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Daemon Targaryen:
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Aegon Targaryen:
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Aemond Targaryen:
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Jacaerys Velaryon:
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Nepenthes
Link to Wattpad
(n.) Nepenthes is defined as a medicine for great sorrow. It is a place, person, or thing that can aid in forgetting one's pain and suffering. Aelora Targaryen was doomed. She was doomed from the moment she was born, for the mere fact that she was born a woman.
✧ Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem!aunt!Targaryen
✧ Warnings: Abuse, Canon typical incest, Pregnancy, Childbirth, Misogyny, Mental Illness, Blood, Gore, Descriptions of miscarriages, Religious fanatics (the faith militant), Slightly OOC aegon (he isn't a complete ass), Death, Bodily and Eating disorders, Psychological Abuse, Imprisonment, Sexual assault, non-con/dub-con (not between main pairing), marital r@pe (she is literally 13 when she gets married), familial violence, Suicidal thoughts, Sexual content, etc.
Sexual content will be marked! Chaps with any potential triggers will be marked!
✧ Status: Incomplete
Character aesthetics
Aelora 'Ella' Targaryen
'I find myself lost in the precipice of my own mind.'
22. A motherless child. The Realm's joy. The people's princess. The broken. The young mother. The docile. The child bride. The pawn. The mad. The dreamer. The beloved sister of golden.
⛧°. ⋆༺♱༻⋆. °⛧
Jacaerys 'Jace' Velaryon
'Then allow me to guide you to safety.'
18. The eldest child. The heir. The black prince. The worthy. The dutiful. The faithful. The loyal. The devoted. The beloved son of delight.
⛧°. ⋆༺♱༻⋆. °⛧
Excerpts from History:
History recounts how the marriage between the young yet ever dutiful black prince and the late wife of the Lord of the iron lands was arranged by the princess's elder brother, Prince Aegon Targaryen. It is that that the prince had learnt of his mother's plans to have his sister wed off to another lord, and was firmly against the notion. He approached his elder sister and the heir to the throne, Rhaenyra Targaryen.
The Lady regent of the Iron Lands was originally against the thought of remarriage at first, however, Prince Aegon was quick to persuade her to agree to the match stating that the black prince would be a better match than any other lord that their mother, Alicent Hightower, would place in front of her.
⛧°. ⋆༺♱༻⋆. °⛧
Indelible | Jacaerys Velaryon
(adj. impossible to erase or forget)
Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!reader
Sum: Jacaerys realises he should have listened to you and told everyone about the two of you too late...
Or was it too late?
or in which
Jacaerys breaks up with you two years after secretly dating you, and you get wind of his potential engagement to your cousin the heir to your family's company.
Word count: 3,692 (give or take:/ I edited it and wasn't bothered to recheck the wc)
Warnings: idk nothing much. I tried to avoid using y/n but ended up using it like thrice (I think)
a/n: Reader's mother is the second child of a huge businessman and took on her husband's name upon marriage, but has business ties (her maiden name is Dayne but its not a big deal). Reader's father is a well-respected lawyer but it's not relevant. Jace is heir to the Targaryen family business. He's a little slow and doesn't connect dots until later on lol.
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☆ Loving Jacaerys Velaryon was easy.
Keeping the fact that you loved him a secret was the hard part.
Two years.
For two years, you loved Jacaerys, and now you are hearing that his family was actively trying to set him up with your cousin.
What’s worse is that it makes perfect sense for them to get together.
Jacaerys is set to inherit the family company from his mother and your cousin is set to inherit your family's company from your uncle.
Why did he want to keep your relationship a secret in the first place? You didn't know, but you respected his decision nonetheless.
But two years of not being able to tell anyone?
You wanted to tell your parents and your older brother, you wanted to gossip with said cousin about your relationship, but Jace remained steadfast in his decision not to tell anyone.
He probably got fed up with you asking to become public and broke up with you, at least that was what you originally thought.
Two years of dates and I love you's gone just like that, all because Jace wanted to keep your relationship a secret and you were tired of not being able to tell anyone.
You had no interest in your mother's family company to be honest. No care for business or the likes, your interest is and will always lay within anthropology.
You loved it.
It was the perfect balance of history, science and mystery and everyone who knew you knew how much you loved a good mystery.
You loved the drama and the slight chaos whenever you got called in, and they say they found a body and having to find out what happened to it.
What was their story? What were they like? What was their life like? How did they end up like this?
Sometimes, it was a simple burial. Sometimes, it was an accidental death.
The murders were always the most interesting.
Of course, as an intern, you were usually not always assigned to the murder cases, but you always accepted any that came your way.
You loved the hunt, your curiosity always getting the best of you and the sense of relief, pride and justice that filled you once you found the identity of who was lying in front of you and who was responsible for it was always worth it.
You loved finding clues that helped catch the one responsible for the person's death, and being able to give families closure after their loved ones went missing was rewarding to you.
Yes, it was confronting and disgusting at times like the time a body was found at the landfill and you had to sift through weeks of rubbish to find missing bones (you were sure you would never be able to smell anything other than rotten food ever again) but you loved it regardless.
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You were once again sitting in the library at your corner.
It was one of your favourite spots on campus.
The window provided a perfect distraction when she needed a little break from her work. It was far enough from the other tables that no one bothered her but close enough that she could watch people go about their day when she was bored.
The shelfs also obscured their line of view of the table giving you privacy was always an added bonus.
“Having fun, pretty girl?”
You blink, shifting your gaze away from the window where you had been watching what seemed to be a very heated fight between a couple. You smile at your boyfriend.
“Hey,” You said. “You're here earlier than normal.”
Jace sits down next to you, letting his bag drop from his shoulder onto the floor.
“Finished early.”
“You look tired,” you said, taking note of the light dark circles under his eyes.
“Cause I am,” Jace groans, leaning into you. He practically shoves his face into the crook of your neck.
You shift sideways so he can rest his head comfortably and run your hand through his hair gently undoing any notes made from the wind outside.
“You should go home and sleep if you're tired, Jace.”
“Don’t wanna,” Jacaerys responds, not bothering to move his head from the crook of your neck. “Just wanna be here with you.”
You can’t help the upward tug of your lips.
“Careful Velaryon, someone might assume that you're obsessed with me.”
Jace huffs out a laugh, finally lifting his head and sitting back.
“They would assume correctly. What are you doing later?”
“I don’t know,” You shrug. “But it seems like you know what I’m going to do.”
Jace grins, grabbing his bag from the floor and digging around it before pulling out two tickets. “You are going to go visit that new exhibit at the museum with me.”
“You got tickets?" You can't hide your excitement. "How? I tried getting them for weeks but they were sold out, I even asked mum if she could pull some strings.”
“A magician never reveals his secrets,” Jace smiles. "You were going to ask your mum to get you tickets?"
You shrug lightly, grabbing the tickets from him, inspecting them before you all but throw yourself at him, hugging him. You pull away but grab one of his hands intertwining your fingers with his.
Jace nods along to your random facts about Egyptian history as he watches your eyes light up as you giggle and ramble on about the exhibit, squeezing your hand, bringing it up to his lip and kissing the back of it.
You barely react to the affection, already gotten used to the gestures and continue talking about Ramesses the great and his military accomplishments.
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Your first thought was that it was your fault.
Clearly, you must have done something wrong for Jace to break up with you.
You rack your brains for weeks afterwards to try and figure out what you've done wrong, but as you sit there in your little corner of the library, you realise you've done absolutely nothing wrong.
So then you wonder, why would he break up with you?
Was it because you brought up the fact of a public relationship more often than not these days? Did he suddenly think you weren’t pretty enough? Or were you and your random rants now annoying to him?
The tip of the pencil you had been using to draw snaps.
You thought it would be easy to get over him. After all no one knew you two were together so you weren't getting constant pity glances.
Turns out it was harder. Way harder.
You didn't have anyone to rant to, no one to lean on or cry to and you were practically at the end of your patience, about to call your brother and spill everything to him when you heard someone call your name.
"Oh my god finally!"
You turn only to be met with your best friend Baela, who coincidentally was also Jace's cousin. You smile at her, forcing yourself to push your previous thoughts to the back of your mind.
"What's got you so excited?" You ask her.
She plops down on the seat next to you.
“Why are you so hard to find?”
You laugh. “I’m always here Baela. You know that.”
She rolls her hands before leaning forward. You notice the glint in her eyes. Mischief. Her eyes were basically the same as Jace’s aside from the colour difference.
“It’s Jace,” she said. “Mum told me that Aunt Rhae was trying to set him up with Elise Dayne.”
You freeze slightly. “What?”
“I know! I was shocked as well!” Baela smiles, not realising the bombshell she had just dropped on you.
“Elise Dayne?”
Baela nods and rambles on about how she had seen Elise and Jace on a date the other day and how cute they had looked together. You smile and nod along but all you can think about was this was why he broke up with you.
Baela leaves to go to class but only after after telling you everything.
She leaves and you sit there for what felt like hours trying to wrap your head around what she had told you.
Jacaerys had broken up with you only to get together with your cousin.
You gather your things and walk to your car.
With your hands on the wheel you scream before you start laughing.
The laugh turns into choked out sobs as you let yourself cry for the first time since Jace left you.
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Seeing Jacaerys walk into your family home with his family had not been in your plans for tonight.
Frankly, if you had known this very important and must not miss family meeting was to officially announce his engagement to your cousin, you would have accepted that case on the unknown skeleton they found last week or gotten your professors to make something up so you could have an excuse not to turn up.
Instead, here you are, forced to stand and watch Jace smile and greet your cousin and her parents.
You stand in a corner next to your brother, tongue poking the inside of your cheek in slight annoyance.
You can tell the exact moment Jacaerys notices your presence.
You send him an overly sweet smile and watch him falter, confusion and something else flashing in his eyes before he blinks and puts his mask back up, turning and shaking your mother’s hand.
He had always been good at that, pretending that nothing was bothering him.
Your mother smiles and turns to you and your brother. Your brother nudges you, and you quickly plaster a pleasant smile on your face.
“This is my daughter and my oldest.”
Your brother shakes Jace’s hand and introduces him. Jacaerys turns his attention to you.
“Hi,” you smile, reaching out and shaking his hand. “Y/n. Pleasure to meet you.”
You watch him gulp, smile and greet you back.
You keep your distance and stay quiet the entire time the two families eat. You know your brother has noticed because he keeps sending you odd looks, but you brush them off, not bothering to pay him any mind or explain your current predicament to him.
What does bother you is Jace.
He keeps looking over at you, most of the time it’s short glances but sometimes you can feel his gaze boring into the side of your head as you answer the questions his brothers, Lucerys and Joffery ask about your degree, his mother occasionally asking a few of her own.
You make sure to keep your answers brief. Your degree was hardly dinner conversation, and you didn't want anyone's dinner resurfacing in any way.
You make sure to turn to him and give him a smile. He snaps out of his daze every time, blinking a couple of times before tuning back into whatever your cousin was talking about.
At some point in the night, you get up, telling your brother you needed to get something from your room.
You don’t notice Jace’s eyes following you as you walk away, and you sure as hell don’t hear him excuse himself to go to the bathroom.
You startle slightly as you feel someone grab your wrist. You don’t even need to turn around to realise who it was.
The soft scent of sandalwood tells you enough.
“What are you doing?” you hiss under your breath, looking over his shoulder to make sure no one had seen the both of you before pulling him into your room.
Jace looks around, taking in his surroundings.
He can’t really help it. It was the first time he had been in your room. He notices the photo wall full of polaroids you told him about making and the string of fairy lights you had bought together after convincing him to go shopping together.
“I didn’t know you were related to her,” Jace said.
“I told you who my mother was,” you scoff. “It was pretty fucking obvious Jace.”
Neither of you notice the person standing by the door, listening in on the conversation through the slight crack.
“Well you could have straight up told me,” Jace argues.
“You're arguing with me because I didn’t give you my mother’s government name? Are you serious? I told you her name, where she worked and what she did. I even told you she was helping coordinate that joint event with your mother! I couldn’t have been more obvious, it’s not my fault you couldn’t put two and two together!”
Jace opens and closes his mouth. It's not like she was wrong.
“This,” you whisper. “This is why you broke up with me? If you had known, would you have stayed? Would you have let me tell everyone that we dated?”
Jace winces at your harsh tone but otherwise stays silent, giving you your answer.
“I can’t believe you.”
“You think I wanted this?” Jace said. “You think I knew my parents were gonna set me up with her?”
“Clearly you did since you refused to tell anyone about us.”
“That’s not -”
“Don’t,” you cut him off. “Just don’t.”
You sigh and shake your head.
“You need to go. Leave first, and then I can follow after a couple of minutes.”
Jace grabs your hand before you can push him towards the door. “Wait, just -”
“You need to go,” you repeat. “If you haven’t noticed your fiancé-to-be is down the hall along with the rest of my family and we both have better things to do then stand here and argue over a topic we already know our stance on. Also, I have somewhere I need to be.”
With that, you pull your hand away from his and walk away. He follows you into the hallway, hears you say bye to your family, and watches you turn to leave.
Fuck.
How was he going to fix this?
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Looking back on it, Jacaerys really didn't know how he didn't put two and two together.
He had met your mother on numerous occasions considering that she worked with his mother for joint events and whatnot.
You were practically a carbon copy of your mother as well.
The hair, the eyes, the intellect. Everything about you screamed Dayne and his stupid brain couldn’t piece together the fact that you were related.
How the fuck did he not know?
All those times when you had told him your mother was away on business and he had commented that his mother was gone as well.
He groans, running a hand down his face.
Rhaenyra, who had been standing by the doorway for the past five minutes watching her son have what looked like a mental breakdown, finally decides to make her presence known.
It was time to talk some sense into her son.
“Jace.”
“Mother.”
“Can I come in?” His mother asks.
Jace nods and she walks into the room.
“Want to tell me what’s on your mind?” she questions. “Luke is complaining about your constant groans.”
Jace normally would have laughed but all he can do is sigh.
“What’s wrong, Jace?” his mother asks again.
“I messed up,” Jace mutters. “Really bad, and I don’t know how to fix it.”
His mother nods, walking forward and sits beside him on the bed.
“Why don’t you tell me everything so I can help?”
Jace looks at her, hesitates for a moment before the flood gates open, and he tells her everything.
He tells her about how you two met, about your first date, about how he wanted to keep your relationship a secret, and you had been okay with that for a while.
He tells her how he broke up with you because she wanted him to get together with your cousin.
He doesn’t leave anything out, and his mother just sits and listens to everything.
When he’s done she stays quiet.
“Jace,” she asks softly. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you say anything?”
Jace forces himself to hold back the tears threatening to spill out of his eyes.
“I don’t know. I don’t -” he shakes his head. “I was afraid that you wouldn’t approve, and I didn’t want to lose her, but I guess it’s too late for that now.”
Rhaenyra reaches out and holds his hands.
“If I had known you loved someone like that,” she said. “I wouldn’t have set you up. I would never deny you your happiness. Even if she wasn’t what I envisioned for you, I wouldn’t have made you leave her, Jacaerys.”
His bottom lip wobbles. “What do I do now?”
Rhaenyra smiles and whips away a stray tear from his cheek.
“Jace?”
He hums.
“Do you like her?”
“What?”
“Do you like her?”
“I love her,” Jace said. “A lot.”
His mother smiles. “Then what are you doing here?”
He stays quiet, blinking at his mother.
“If you love her, why aren’t you with her?” His mother said. “Go get her back, Jace. If you love her, fight for her.”
Jacaerys stands up quickly and nods. He grabs a jacket from his chair and is gone the next second.
Rhaenyra watches him leave shaking her head with a soft smile.
That foolish boy.
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You were on campus, specifically at the building where your professors kept the unidentified bodies that had been sent over after being found.
You weren't allowed to have phones near the workstations or the bodies and even if you were you would have never bothered to bring it up with you.
Who in their right mind wants to touch their phone with people juice on their hands, regardless of whether or not you were wearing gloves?
Not to mention that you would have kept having to change your gloves as well, and that would do your head in.
Your phone was in your bag, which in turn was in your personal locker outside, which meant you had no idea that Jacaerys had been trying to get a hold of you for the past hour.
You had no idea that he was calling you or texting you to ask for your whereabouts.
Luckily for him, you were slightly predictable.
You had just finished writing down your notes for the Jane Doe in front of you and making sure her bones were locked away and secure.
You swiped your student card into the security slot, and the doors outside opened. Smiling and waving to the security guards stationed outside the lab, you grabbed your bag from the the opposite wall, holding the lockers.
You push open the door and stop short.
It was raining, because of course it was.
You put your notes in your bag and started walking to your car, which was conveniently parked at the far end of the parking lot.
You had been too busy re-reading and protecting your over your notes while speed-walking to your car to realise that Jacaerys had been waiting outside waiting for you.
You couldn’t hear him call your name over the sound of the rain.
When the rain suddenly stops falling on you, you look up only to be met with the slight of an umbrella.
You turn confused and are met with a panting Jacaerys.
“You walk really fast,” he said, slightly bent over as he caught his breath.
You just stare at him. “What are you doing here?”
He stands up straighter.
“Uh, I came to apologise.”
“What?”
“I’m sorry,” Jace said. “For everything. I’m sorry for being stupid and not putting two and two together. For keeping us a secret and breaking up with you. I’m sorry.”
“Where is this coming from?” you question.
“I came to a realisation,” Jace answered. “I can’t live without you.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Is that right?”
“I hate the fact that we aren’t together anymore. I hate the fact that I didn’t tell anybody we were together,” Jace said. “I hate being away with you. I hate not being with you. I hate not being able to hold and tell you I love you every day. I’ll do better this time. I swear it.”
“Careful Velaryon,” you say, stepping forward. “People could assume you are obsessed with me.”
Jace’s lips tug upwards, and he nods, closing the gap between the two of you completely, leaning down.
“They would assume correctly.”
The world around the two of you fades into the background as he leans forward, his lips brushing against yours.
The air around the both of you seemed to warm. You don’t know who leans in first, and you don’t care.
All you cared about was the fact that Jacaerys was kissing you again. That he was yours again.
Your eyes flutter close as your lips meet, and the umbrella protecting the two of you from the rain drops to the floor as he pulls you closer.
You don’t register that you drop your bag to hold onto his collar and pull him even closer.
You could have sworn lighting flashed through the sky as your lips met, but maybe that was you imagining things. You had almost forgotten what it felt like to kiss him.
Those sparks when your lips touched his, that feeling of something more.
Of something real.
Your heart skips a beat
“You know you’re stuck with me forever now right?” Jace said as he pulled away smiling.
You laugh and Jace sees that familiar sparkle of light in your eyes. The ones that remind him of stars.
“I think it’s you that’s stuck with me.”
He grins leaning in to kiss you again. “I love you.”
“And I love you,” you smile into the kiss.
A particularly cold and harsh gust of wind coupled with the booming sound of thunder breaks the moment and you shiver.
Jace goes to pick up the umbrella that had fallen. Luckily, the wind hadn't carried it too far off.
Your eyes follow him before they fall on your wet bag on the floor. The bag that had your notes. The bag that held the notes that you had been painstakingly working on for the past few hours.
You scream, causing Jace to jump.
“You little shit! You made me drop my notes! I take it back! I hate you!”
Jacaerys laughs as you pick up your bag and hit him with it. He runs away as you chase him in the rain, cursing him out for letting you ruin your notes.
You really wouldn’t have it any other way.
Well, except maybe with dry notes.
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Thank you to my bby girl @icarusignite for pre-reading this and thirsting over Jace to an almost unhealthy degree with me ily<3
Go read her fics or else (this may or may not be a threat)
Written by Yor <3
GETTING CAUGHT — jacaerys velaryon x twin!reader
[ incest, sex content, unprotected sex, mentions of arranged marriages ]
The sounds of panting and skin slapping together filled the prince’s rooms. The light of the fire reflected off their sweat glistened bodies as they were consumed with each other.
“Fuck-“ he gasped as he ducked his head into the crook of her neck, holding onto her hips for dear life as she rode him with such determination.
Her fingers laced themselves into his dark curls, tugging onto them lightly as she moaned into his hair.
“Jace- gods!” She groaned, removing herself from his hair and holding his face into her hands, pressing their foreheads together.
She pressed delicate kisses onto his lips. Something so innocent during an act as erotic as this. Their love for each other flowed through the room.
“My love..” He whispered against her soft lips, to which she smiled. His cock throbbed inside of her, earning himself a moan from his sweet sister.
He began kissing down her neck, his lips hot against her skin. Her reached her chest, and then her nipples. She moaned as his wet mouth engulfed her breast, her hands finding their way back to his curls.
“You are mine- we were made for each other..” she breathed into his ear, a smile plastered onto her face as she began to reach her high, the pleasure consuming them both.
That was before his chamber door opened, halting them both in their tracks. Both of their heads whip towards the door to see their step-father, daemon smirking at the two.
“It’s not what-“ Jace started before daemon stoped him, “don’t think of me as a fool, boy.” He laughed.
“Carry on,” he said before shutting the door. His laughter was heard down the halls of the castle.
Jace’s head nestled into her chest, she caressed his head as their hearts raced. The embarrassment of getting caught running through their veins.
“Your daughter is of age to be wed, my queen. Perhaps we should begin finding her a match.” One of the council men said around the table, the queen silently agreeing.
“Jace is always a good option.” Daemon suggested with a smirk.
“Jace? Her twin? There are several good candidates from good houses that-“ another began, but the queen looked towards her husband, urging him to go on.
“We should betroth them, they’d be the next Alysanne and Jahaerys. Perhaps, even Aegon and Rhaenys.” Daemon said.
“What of his betrothal to Baela?” Rhaenyra asked.
“Aegon had two wives, Rhaenys and Visenya.” He smiled.
everything you do with jace is SO GOOD i need more
TAKING HIS ANGER OUT ON YOU — jacaerys velaryon x betrothed!reader
[ Sex content, unprotected sex, rough sex, mentions of marriage ]
“Jace-!” She gasped as he pounded into her from behind, her bum high in the air as she laid her head on his soft sheets, gripping them tightly.
He panted loudly, his thrusts quick and rough, no intention of stopping his pace anytime soon. “Slow down, my love..” she breathed.
“Fucking traitorous- usurper cunts.” He spit. His cock filled her cunt so wonderfully, the burn in her belly blossomed with his fast pace, his tip constantly hitting her most sensitive spot.
Her moans were loud and passionate and only fueled his drive to make her peak, her cunt could always make him feel better.
Her soft hand found its way behind her, gently holding his own as he pounding into her. An action so delicate for one so vulgar and a symbol of her love for him no matter what.
He felt himself throb inside her slick, tight cunt. The wet sounds of her core rang through the room and almost echoed in the background of her whimpers and moans.
She was so close, nearly tipping off the edge. “Right there! Please- Jace-!” She gripped onto the pillow below her.
“Oh, my sweet girl,” he groaned as he took his final thrusts inside of her sweet cunt, he ran a soothing hand down the small of her back.
Euphoria erupted within her, the burning hot pleasure of her peak running rapid through her body as her cunt spasmed around his thick cock.
Jace quickly followed after, his grip tight on her hips as he filled her with his spend. They were to be married in a few moons, so why not start the process sooner?
Guys send me requests , I need ideas
I write for Oscar piastri , Lando Norris , Carlos Sainz Jr., Charles leclerc, etc and those mentioned in my bio.
Thanks love y’all lots
,XOXO💋