re: jace jerking off to the thought of you in that dress. I must admit I lost control and started writing smut about it in the context of him reminiscing about it several years later after the two of you get hitched . here u go
You were so lovely before him in this dress. Beautiful. It made Jacaerys feel terrible of the thoughts he was having of you.
Even when you first wore it to that banquet so many years ago, back when you were both young and green for the Dance of Dragons had not yet happened, Jace had been rendered speechless by the sight of you in it. He did not know where to look, for it bared so much of your arms, your thighs, the swell of your breasts. And gods—even where the dress covered you, it did a poor job of it. The silks were so sheer; whenever the light hit it a particular way, it revealed too much of the soft contours of your body.
It was the silhouette of your thighs that made him feel particularly mad. The silk clung to you so snugly, and he could see the shadow of your thighs, the apex of them—but nothing else. All he could think at that banquet, agonised by how tight his breeches were, was whether or not you were wearing smallclothes. Whether you were laughing and drinking and dancing in that hall, body pressed against his—all while you were bare and exposed beneath that dress.
And Seven Hells, did he hate himself for it—but the thought plagued him the whole time. Plagued him all night once he'd returned to his quarters, plagued him until finally he gave into his base urges and took himself into his hand. His cock throbbed hotly in his grip as he sullied you with his sordid fantasies—as he thought about pressing against you so tightly against himself as he danced until you could not help but feel him against your ass. As he thought about your body’s reactions to his, your silks clinging to your thighs as they grew sticky with your need. As he thought about reaching under the slit travelling up your thigh, your cunt bare and wet and sweet for him as he touched you.
It was—filthy. He was loath to disgrace you with these thoughts. All his life, he'd only ever wanted to treat you honourably, to be a respectful friend and later a proper husband. But Jacaerys had not been able to stop himself from thinking of taking you to his chambers, had not been able to stop himself from imagining himself bending you over and mounting you like some kind of beast. He wanted to press his throbbing cock against that dress, feel the wetness of your core through its silk. He wanted to rut against your cunt through the sheer cloth, and then he wanted to tear it aside so that he could press the head of his cock against your bare cunt. As he spilled himself all over his hand, he wished that he was instead spilling into you, pumping your womb full of his seed.
And now that you were before him in this dress again—his lovely, beautiful wife—it was all Jace could think of once more.
