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I already told u in pebblecord but once again HAPPPPY BIRTHDAYYYY.💗I hope you be showered with so much love today!!! expect a present soon muahh!!!! 💗💗💗
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Just watched supergirl and oh my god i am so obssed with the fact that we have a female main character and shes sloppy and snippy and rude and an alcoholic and messy and flawed. And yet shes still able to be kind and good and be an inspiration to people. All while not having a romance and while not trying to appeal to anyone. This is what everything should be.
Warnings/Tags: pregnancy, mentions of childbirth, childbirth pain, jace being a cutie, jace loves his family and would kill for them, slightly suggestive at the end, reader is always sassy
Everything ached.
Your feet, your knees, your breast, your back.
It was a constant throb of exhausting pressure, pushing against your spine and ribs with ferocity. How tiring it was, to grow a babe all on your lonesome, your body destroying itself to create life.
The grandmaester ordered you to bed rest for the final months of your pregnancy. Months of just laying around, waiting for the day your life changed forever. It was a daunting thought, giving birth, even more so with the growing tensions of your newly founded family.
At least they were kind to you, more so than you expected them to be.
Targaryen’s weren't known to be exceptionally kind or honorable and most of your family consider them to be an affront to the gods. Men and women who lay with their brothers and sisters, riding dragons through monstrous blood magic.
But they are more than that- Jacaerys especially.
Sweet, kind Jacaerys who's more attentive and thoughtful than you could ever imagine. A man who anticipated your needs before you could verbalize them. A man who massaged your swollen, aching body without any complaints, who defended you against unruly men and women alike.
A massage sounds good right about now.
A groan escapes your lips as you lean forward, desperately trying to ease the pressure pooling in your lower back. It persists, however, and a sharp pain stabs through your back pulling a whine from your lips.
“Your highness,” a handmaiden rings out, her voice wavering with concern, “would you like me to fetch the maester?”
“No, no. I'd rather my husband right now, Jeyne.”
Without a word, she rushes away with her head down and hands clinging to her skirts. She's a dutiful woman and a good, loyal friend- one you're lucky to have. But the room grows colder in her absence, the pain growing with each breath.
The maesters say these pains are common, a trick played by the God’s to prepare women for labors. Nevertheless, you curse the Gods for fating you to a woman's body and forcing you to bear this pain.
So lost in the waves of pain, you don't hear the door creak open, nor do you see the figure approaching you. A hand pressing against your back and you jolt upwards, your muscles tensing as you flee the intrusion. But it's just Jace, just your sweet, caring Jace staring down at you with concern lacing his beautiful, brown eyes.
“My love, what do you need?”
“... a massage..”
A bright, cheeky grin takes over his face before a chuckle escapes him. It's moments like these you forget about the tension, forget about the brewing war on the horizon.
He laughs brightly and guides you towards an arm chair, quietly helping you sit on the soft, red cushion. Wordlessly he kneels before you and slips off your slippers, his fingers ghosting over the skin of your ankles.
“Anything for my princess,” he lifts your leg up, pressing a gentle kiss over the skin of your inner ankle. “The realm would surely perish if I did not assist you.”
“It is good then that I have such a doting husband.”
He only chuckles in response, continuing to massage away the pain in your ankles. The cramping in your stomach doesn't cease, however. All you can do is stroke your bump in a pitiful effort to ease the aches, something Jace does not miss.
“You are cramping, yes?”
“Mmmmm… your child is restless. It would appear as if they are eager to join us.”
The pain grows sharper, a stabbing ache that radiates up your back in waves. Jace reacts immediately, standing and leaning over you with furrowed brows. His fingers stroke your collarbone, his thumb kneading soothing circles into your bone.
“Are you certain they are not making an appearance now?”
“I was…. Not so much now.”
“Let me fetch the mae-”
“No, Jace,” you grab at the lapels of his jacket, pulling him towards you. “Please, let us just wait it out…. perhaps they are just a lie.”
The Godshave amazing comedic timing, for at your final word, a warm liquid trickles down your leg with an aggressive cramp.
“I am the Gods laughing stock,” you whisper quietly, looking up at Jace with glassy, unfocused eyes. “The Maester, Jacaerys!”
“OH! Now?”
“Yes!”
~
Labor was arduous and painful, even more so than any woman could express. Of course, you expected it to be painful, to be tiring, but nothing compared to the agony of ripping yourself in two to bring life into the world. There were moments you thought you wouldn't survive, moments where you clung to Jeynes hand as if she alone would save you.
But you would do it all again, if it meant bringing her into this world. A choice you would make over and over again.
She was beautiful.
With a head of thick, curly brown hair and long luscious lashes framing the most beautiful brown eyes. In every way, she was her father, a perfect mirror of his own handsome complexion.
The grandmaester and midwives wouldn't allow Jacaerys to enter and he agonized over your pained screams. But the moment he heard the cries of a babe, his heart jumped into his throat and his body became overwhelmed with love. They let him in after that and he almost fainted at the sight of you holding your little girl in your arms.
It was the beautiful sight he'd ever seen.
Despite your red rimmed, glassy eyes, the snot and teas dripping down your face, your sweaty, greasy hair, you were the most beautiful woman in the whole of Westeros. And he when he held little Alysanne in his hands, he swore that no harm would ever befall her. That we would destroy the throne, no, the world to see her safe and happy.
He was an amazing father to her- attentive and doting just like he was with you. Even if he never had enough time, every free second was spent with the two of you, holding you in his arms as he played with his child. Every night he begged for another, but insisted on waiting till you were ready.
“I cannot wait,” he'll say, “but you need rest, my love. We will wait however long you need.”
As if you were not desperate to produce him an heir.
Currently, he holds in her in his arms, gently rocking her as he sings her a quiet song. He doesn't have the most amazing voice and he messes up the words sometimes, but it is steady and relaxing. And you watch as Alysanne falls asleep in his arms, her beautiful brown eyes disappearing behind a veil of lashes.
“She is so perfect,” Jace whispers whilst looking down at her, his brows pinched in keen adoration. “I have never seen anything more beautiful in my life.”
“If I did not agree, I would take offence to that, My Prince.”
He chuckles and meanders over to her crip, carefully setting her inside the comfines- her dragon egg cradled right next to her sleeping body. Hopefully it will one day hatch and she will have a bond as pure as Jace and Vermax's.
“It would appear that we are biased accounts, my lady. Perhaps we should get a third opinion on her beautiful?”
“Perhaps not Jace. I fear if anyone states she was less than perfect… I would kill them.”
“I as well,” he snickers and walks over to you, his brows wiggling as he reaches for your hips. His hands grip on tightly, pushing you back towards the bed. It bends under your weight, the old, study wood creaking as he crawls on top of you. “They would never survive our combined wrath.”
The two of you lay on the bed for a moment, your fingers combing heouty his thick, curly hair as he breathes in the scent of your neck.
“Jace?”
He hums in question.
“I believe I am ready… to try for another.”
Immediately his head snaps up, his eyes wide and mouth agape as he stares down at you.
“You have just made my life complete, y/n. We shall try at once.”
His sentence finishes with a sharp nip at your neck.
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Summary: you decided to buy a dress for a date with your boyfriend. The only thing is–you've never wore a dress around him before.
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Tags: Smut!!! p in v sex, porn without plot unless you read part one, oral sex (f receiving) mentioned, fem reader, afab reader, creampie, protected or unprotected (up to readers interp,) many kisses, no use of y/n, also reader teases ryland quite a bit.
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Mina's notes: I don't have many notes for this other than I hope you enjoy!! I didn't really proof read that well as I want it posted and i wrote it at like 6:30AM. If you have any questions, thoughts or requests my asks are always open! (I am deeply sorry if this is face paced)
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The ride home was... intense.
If you're going to be honest, you had tried to tease him, a hand snaking up his thigh, instead he just held your hand on your knee, fingers linked together. He was not about to have you tease him.
Not when he was about to devour you in that dress.
And that's exactly what Ryland did. Without removing the dress of course, he had you on your back on your shared bed, hands keeping the dress bunched up just enough to reveal your tender belly.
He was addicted to the way the fabric was tight around your chest and even so, the straps slipped down your shoulders just a tad.
It didn't take him long to make you cry out as you reached that climax, the heat shared between you had been sizzling all evening and you wanted–no, you needed him.
While he cleaned you with small kitten licks you tugged his head away from your core, plucking off his glasses. You didn't want them to risk breaking them.
"I need you, Ry. Please.."
"You–" he groaned. "Holy moly."
He shuffles onto his knees, giving you a once over as he tugged the dress back down to cover you. He could've came at the sight of you alone.
The way the colour complimented your skin tone, the way it fit your frame perfectly.
"Ryland? You're staring again." There was that smug smile that basically killed him.
"Baby, I can't help it.. you're perfect." A hand found your cheek and a kiss was placed upon your lips.
Rolling over so he was on his back, you took your time unbuttoning his blouse. Okay, maybe you were trying to tease him a little.
"Honey, please.." He tried. He desperately tried to look away from your cleavage which you were practically flaunting in his face.
"Whatt? M'not doing anything.." You grinned, allowing him to shrug his shirt off, a hand trailing down his chest, then his stomach, leading to the very visible tent in his pants.
Two pairs of hands gripped your hips over the thin dress, lifting it just enough.
A stuttered whimper slips from your lips when Ryland tugs your hips down, his clothed erection pressing against your naked heat, a feeling that would make your brain explode if you didn't do something about it.
You unbuckled his belt, unzipped his jeans–as if you had no time to waste–splayed your hand against his crotch briefly which elicited a frustrated groan from your boyfriend.
And before you both knew it you were hovering right over his throbbing cock, dress lifted only so you could watch yourself sink down onto him.
Ryland moaned as he felt your walls around him, warm and perfectly wet, allowing him to slide in almost too easily.
No movement was made until you were filled to the brim.
Your face fell between the crook of his neck and shoulder. "Ryland.." You whined, grinding your hips to feel his tip kiss your cervix, your hands gripped tight onto the pillow beneath his head.
"Baby.. f– Mmh. You feel so good." His gentle hold on your hips helped to guide you, but only as much as you needed before you started setting the pace.
You trailed kisses along his trimmed jaw until you moaned into eachothers mouth, biting at his bottom lip when you slowly started lifting your hips. Once you felt it was just the head within you, you sank back down.
You began riding him at a sultry pace, lips locked together, sharing sounds that could definitely earn a complaint from a neighbour if you didn't play it safe.
Ryland's hands slipped to your thick waist, pulling you into an arch against him that made his hips buck up into you.
"Ahh! Ryland!" "Nh– fudgecake! I'm sorry! I didn't.. mean to.." He panted, his hips still twitching despite his apology.
You giggled at his exclamation, his "apology" only making you rock your hips faster.
Hands roamed all over the open back of your dress, feeling the flushed skin there.
The fact you were riding him while still wearing this amazing dress, your chest pushing against his bare one, made him ache unbearably.
Your lips mashed together as much as possible, not wanting to part until you both were utterly breathless.
He tried. He really tried. He just couldn't keep his hips completely still. So with weak motions, he fucked up into and met your hips everytime you bounced down.
"I-I can't.. you look so– too good. Feels so good.." He was lost in the pleasure like it was a labyrinth.
You kissed a wet kiss to his lips. "You gonna cum, Ry..? Because I-I am too.."
Two separate hands found eachother, lacing together as you both chased that high desperately and extremely eagerly. You don't think theres ever been a time hes held your hand this tight before.
This dress really had an affect on him. You could see the way his eyes darted between your tit's and quickly back your face.
And with some final vows, "I love you– I love you so much!" "Ngh– me too Ryland!"
His spend clashed with your release after a final grind of your hips, united with his own, spilling into while you painted him.
To say you both passed out would be the understatement of the year.
But not after cleaning eachother up, putting the dress in the wash just incase–Ryland didn't want it to be ruined–changing the sheets, putting on some fresh Pjs, and then holding eachother within the confined sheets of your shared bed.
"So, you really love that dress, Hm?" It was almost a tease, but you were happy about it.
Wearing a dress had never felt so euphoric until now.
"Mhm. It's so pretty on you. Never feel ashamed of your body if it can make me that hard–"
"Okay– it's bed time." You laughed softly, reaching over to turn the lamp off.
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Extra notes: thank you so much for the love on the first part of this fic 🫶🫶
Description: The Battle of the Gullet leaves Jace mangled and bedridden. But his wife has some, hopefully, good news to mend his spirits
Warnings/tags: throwing up (eeek), slight angst, humor, im letting Jace being cheeky and funny, #lethimbehappy, cocky jace, reader is so done with his bullshit, fluff and humor, ig incest but theyre targs so its expected lel
~
Victory is bitter, when half of those you love aren't alive to see it through.
The Red Keep is different than she remembers it being, far colder and fR more hostile than years past. Bright, warm fires no longer shine against the walls, no longer do they ignite the halls and people with life. The air around her hosted a perilously cold chill, seeping into her bones with sharp, icy claws.
Memories flash aggressively as she walks the empty corridors, a life long passed flickering across her mind. A life no longer her reality.
The shrill, high-pitched laughter of children, her siblings, as they wrecked havoc on all around them. The chastising and yells of exhausted parents and septa’s as they chased them endlessly through the halls. The conditional love of her mother, who sold her at the first opportunity possible, who scolded and shunned her when she chose her bretrothed and his family over her and her traitorous brother.
Alicent was never a true mother to her anyway.
These walls were never her truely home. Her brothers were never truly her family.
But she has a new family now.
Her fingers ghost over the fabric of her dress, caressing the minuscule bump underneath her hand, as if she would magically feel the babe growing just beneath the skin. It wasn't planned. None of this was planned, really.
She's happy… she thinks as she walks slowly. Children were bright and innocent, unmarred by the cruel reality of this world- something she desperately misses. Perhaps, her child would bring some warmth to this stony castle and some light to their lives now that the war is almost over.
She presses her hand against the wall as goes, feeling the cold, moist stone underneath her fingers. It reminds her of Dragonstone for a moment and the firey smell of snoke and brimestone ghost over her nose like a painful memory. The thought alone makes her stomach churn painfully and her hand rips away from the wall before she presses it tightly against her sternum, trying to force down the rising bile.
It burns, clawing at her throat with dragon fire, forcing a cough out of her clenching throat. But she persists, her legs speeding up as she rushes back to her chambers- back to Jace. Two, armor clad guards flank her, mental jingling loudly as they rush forward, concern etched into their faces at her panic. But she pays them no mind, choosing instead to press her hand against her lips as she sprints towards the door just feet away.
It screeches under her grasps as she wrenches it open with a quivering gasp. With no warning, she slams it in her guards face, yelling desperately through the thick, impenetrable wood.
“D-do not, mmmmm,” she heaves and whines, pressing her face against the door, “d-do not let anyone in, ser’s”
Muffled, baritone voices sound through the wooden door, concern laced in their tone as they heed her commands, barring the room from entry. But she barely hears them as she sprints to the closest basin, clutching the white porcelain as she braces her body for the coming trials.
She heaves into it, spilling the contents of her guts into the clean basin with a loud, whimpering groan. Faintly, she can hear Jace stir through the commotion, a low whimper that resonates silently through her agony.
“Hggmmh,” she groans and heaves again, bile spilling out of her mouth, burning everything in its path. “N-no, no.”
Something shuffles towards her slowly, bare feet quietly plattering against the cold, stone ground as Jace moves. He winces as he approaches her hunched figure, his face twisting in pain as he extends a hand towards her before pressing it against her spine. She jolts under his touch and a low whimper escapes her lips once she dry heaves again.
“My love,” his voice is strained and weak, “what is wrong? Here, l-let me call for a maester.”
He turns to yell at the guards, but she reaches forward grasping onto his wrist with a shaking hand. The heaving doesn't stop however, and she whines even louder as bile dribbles down her lips and onto the stone floor. Jacaerys turns and holds her through, each sob and heave, stroking her back as he leans onto the wall in front of them for support. Pain spikes in his chest and back, but he ignores it in favor of her.
“Please, my love, speak to me. What is wrong?”
She pulls back from the basin, wiping her wrist across her lips as she heaves and cries for air. Her face is flush and dripping with sweat, bile and spit smeared against her chin and lips. She washes it away the best she can, dumping water onto her hand and scrubbing at her face desperately, trying to remove the disgusting ooze. They stand there in silence for a moment once she finishes, Jace palling with every passing second before she pulls away, gently guiding him back towards the bed.
“Do not fret over me, my prince,” she whispers and coughs slightly before helping him into the bed. “I am quite alright. There is nothing you can do to help me right now.”
He leans forward, grasping at her hands whilst he speaks softly, “but the maester-”
“I just returned from speaking with him, Jace. I-”
“Then what is wrong, my love?”
He brings her fingers up to his lips before pressing a gentle, lingering kiss to her knuckles as he looks up at her with glassy eyes. Through his dark, thick lashes, she can see his brown eyes flickering over her face, looking for any signs of sickness.
“If you would let me speak-”
“You need a gentle push occasionally,” he smirks and presses a kiss to the inside of her wrist, feeling her heart flutter under his lips. “You would not speak unless I demanded it of you. My wife prefers to keep her health a secret from her husband.”
“Yes, well when your husband is abed fighting for his life due to his own arrogance and-”
“His own arrogance, hmmm.” He presses his cheek against her palm, cocking an eyebrow up towards her as he whispers teasingly. “I keenly remember the battle being won. It would appear my arrogance is warranted, wouldn't you think?”
“N-no,” she pulls her hand away from her, tucking it against her stomach as she sits down next to him, the bed dipping under her weight. But, of course, his hands find hers again, his fingers intertwining with hers in her lap, thumb stroking the back of her hand. “No, not when you almost died for it, Jace. A victory is not worth anything if you are not here. Not when-”
She stops herself, her throat closing as her heart clenches painfully in her chest, her fingers trying to soothe the pain away.
But Jace pushes, “And yet, I live. And yet, my mother has been crowned queen, with me as her heir and you my princess.”
There's a long pause before she speak again, her voice strained and weak.
“I….. I watched as they carried you off of Moondancer, Jace. You were…. You were so grey, your skin so cold against mine… you were clinging to life by a thread. What would we do if we lost you that day?”
“You and mother-”
“No, Jace! Not…” she sighs and grabs his hand, pressing it against her stomach, stroking his fingers with hers. They tremble together and her body begins to uncontrollably shake, tears pooling her eyes as his widen. “Us. I would've been a widow… our child fatherless. And you sit here and pretend as if-”
“O-our child?”
The bed shakes as he moves, pressing his hand firmer against the growing expanse of her stomach, desperately trying to feel the life forming inside of her. Tears well in his eyes as he sits up, the pain no longer registering as adrenaline surges through him.
“Our child, Jace.”
“... you are?”
“Pregnant, yes.”
Everything shatters as he falls into her, pressing his face into her whilst a sob escapes his throat, his hands grasping at her shoulders. Her tears fall freely now, trailing down her face in cold streams and pooling in his dull, black hair. Slowly her hands trail up his arms before they tangle in the dark strands, pulling him even closer whilst rocking him as if he were a child.
She speaks first, “I suspected it for a while, in Dragonstone… before the battle. When they brought you back, so cold and lifeless, I-I assumed the worst and I broke…there was nothing left of me then……”
“I-I'm sorry… I'm so sorry.” He hiccups into her neck, his warm breath brushing against her skin.
“You fought for weeks, clinging to life like a babe clings to their mother. There were times that I thought all hope was lost, but here you are- flushed with life. Still clinging to me.”
A choked laugh escapes his lips and he pulls back, willing the tears away with trembling lips and hands. They smile at each other before he speaks, his voice wavering and he looks down at the small curve of her stomach.
“I would not have gone if I-”
“Yes you would have,” she presses her face against his, her nose bumping against the curve of his jaw. “You are too prideful, my prince.”
Small, pained laughter fills the air and he nuzzles his head against her before turning, pressing his nose against hers. His lips ghost over hers and she pulls back suddenly, wincing as he whines pathetically.
“I- I am unclean right now. Let me call-”
“I do not care.”
Immediately he pulls her back towards him, pressing his lips against her with a burning ferocity. She sighs into his lips, tilting her head and falling into the feeling of his body against hers. The kiss only lasts a few short moments, their lips moving together in perfect harmony, passion pulsing through their bodies.
He pulls back, his lips tickling her skin before he presses a chaste kiss to her lips, chuckling at the way she chases him for more. When they part, he stares at her for a moment, adoration filling his half-lidded gaze.
“How long?”
“The maester stated close to four moons. Which, according to my memories… would be quite accurate.”
His fingers find her stomach again, pressing against the small bump that blooms just beneath his hand. A gasp escapes him as his lips part, shock and love plastered onto his face.
“My child is-”
“Our child… I will not have my efforts diminish-”
“Our child. Our child is growing right here… I can scarcely believe it….” Suddenly he shoots up, groaning as he hobbles forward. With a loud gasp, she stands and follows him, her hands reaching out to pull him back into bed. “We need to inform my mother! We need to celebra-”
An exasperated groan escapes her lips and she rushes forward, blocking his path with a pointed glare.
“Jace! That can wait,” she laughs suddenly and grabs his shoulders, pulling him into her once more. Automatically, his hands find her waist, his fingers kneading at the covered skin. “For now, I would like to celebrate alone with my husband.”
“Alone?”
She slaps his shoulder, forcing a pained laugh from his lips, “not like that! Well………… maybe.”
He pushes her back and she falls against the bed, giggling as he gently lands on top of her, careful not to press too hard into her abdomen. It's not sexual, just purely playful as he shoves his face into her neck and smiles, his lips tickling her skin- forcing even more laughs from her lips. When he pulls back, he beams at her, his black curls beautifully framing his strong, perfect face.
“You have made me the happiest man in all of Westeros! I shall erect statues in your name, host parties in your honor! I can scarcely wait to meet them….” He presses his face against her neck again, sighing into her skin as her fingers thread at the nape of his neck, massaging the skin gently. “We shall have many children, I think. A small army to-”
“Let us get past the first one, my love.”
“Ahh, if you insist”
With a groan he shifts, plopping back against the pillows as the adrenaline leaves him, the pain settling back in.
“You over exerted yourself, haven't you?”
“No, I am quite alright. I am just resting my eyes for a moment.”
“Hmmm, sure.” She stands and looks down at him with barely concealed humor, before offering her his hand to help him move. “You should rest again, Jace. Far too much excitement and you'll certainly perish.”
With a groan he moves back against the head of the bed, falling into the pillows before smirking up at her with tired, glassy eyes.
“I am not so easy to kill, my love.”
“Yes, you are quite resilient, aren't you?” She presses a kiss to his forehead before trailing down his face, peppering him with love. His eyebrow, his eye, his nose, his cupid bow. They settle on his lips and she presses a soft kiss there, lingering as she whispers into his mouth. “Sleep, my love. We shall be here when you awaken.”
