#Dani Bliss

[moviesandmania]

TEXAS CHAINSAW MASCARA (2022) Reviews of Bill Zebub's newest

‘This is not a parody!!!’ Texas Chainsaw Mascara is a 2022 American horror film in which New Yorkers visit the Lone Star State to go sightseeing. Unfortunately, their car breaks down but a young woman offers them her home as a refuge. Upon arrival, their Northern prejudices clash with the Southerners. Written, produced, photographed, directed, edited and scored by Bill Zebub  (Dickless Zombies;…

[worthless-weight-in-gold]

starter for @draconisa

    A small glance up from the kitchen island when the door opened to let Dany in, and then Hakeem did a double-take at her with his eyebrows raised before he settled into a serious expression and let out a deep sigh, putting the culinary injector down onto the marble. "We talked about this." Serious tone, betraying nothing more than the underlying warmth of affection in his voice every time he spoke to her. "If you look more gorgeous every time I see you, eventually you'll burn my eyes out like a biblical angel."

Hakeem just gave a little shake of his head, lip twitching at the edge almost giving away a smile, and he picked the injector to return to his task of getting Cajun butter infused into the fried crab legs. "Pastalaya should only be a few more minutes -- mind checking the timer for me?" His back was to the stove, where a covered pot was letting out enticing fragrances. The table was already set, the small one he kept right next to the big windows for the view of the city, with an embroidered tablecloth and the traditional burning candle and single champagne rose between dishes -- including an amount of silverware that implied there was a dessert already made and hidden away somewhere.

[gangplanksorenji]

Clandestine

Pairing: NewJeans’ Danielle x Male Reader

Word Count: 6,000

A/N: Hello Orenjideul! This is probably the last fic I'll be writing and releasing this year because I'm getting occupied with my own endeavors. This is purely 97% a BFH fic because this Dani look is killing me.................. (god, that waist) Enjoy reading it! <3

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“Try and keep it secretive, please.”

Those words define what’s the goal—mouths shut, all within yourselves.

You’ve been living your life on the edge, playing with fire and Danielle is the gasoline that keeps igniting it and it piques you, delving for more. It’s scary, outrageous to the very least but in the greater perspective, it’s blissful and fun and that’s what matters at the end of the day.

Try, like what’s stated. It’s ultimately the goal and you’d revolve around that single word every damn time.

You have a reputation to protect, and it’s all in the means of Danielle because a single mistake can bear a scarring loss, because she has everything to lose and you’re to blame if it were to happen (the latter is speaking in hypothetical terms).

“Can’t wait, hm?” Your eyes gaze towards her, plastering a faint smile as you continue to pepper her neck with kisses that felt too euphoric on Danielle’s end.

“Ahh—how can I wait?” Her moans bless your ear, and you absolutely take that as an affirmative with her delight. She knows on herself that you’re insatiable and she hates it—temptation breaking as the both of you are speaking, and she’s feeling every ounce of your energy all over her skin.

Her hands roam around your body, feeling your kisses get herself acting up and writhing under your control. You turn, tilt her chin to face you and all you can see is a visage worth an awe. “You’re so goddamn pretty, Dani.”

These compliments just ignited the utter bliss she feels, lips curling into a smile of sincerity adding up to her impeccable beauty that no one can rival. You rest your nose onto her neck, then peppering it all over again as your hands handle her with care and the absolute ambition to let her know how much you adore her.

“You—you’re kissing me so, so good…” Danielle’s accent is candy to your ears, and you’re just replying with more intimacy. Her hands find the hem of your shirt, dexterous fingers lifting it as her primal instincts kick in until your hands hinders her advances.

Danielle whimpers, a hot breath brushing against your ear as you locked eyes onto hers. “Not yet, Dani.”

A visible pout by your sunshine, and immediately, you’re captivated but not enough to break the façade. “B-But why? Oh…”

Patience is what she needs, and as selfish as this sounds, your needs would be the priority for fulfillment.

Like what’s stated at the beginning  you’ve been living at the edge with her and thankfully, there’s no instance enough to bear such a result that would crumble a reputation. It’s just not helping where you’d be damned to live if ever Hanni catches you with such mess with Danielle and it’s doubled down with Minji—you’d be gone for good, that’s for sure, but Danielle has this hold against them that wouldn’t let you go and stick this risky relationship that could bear a scarring demise.

But who cares about that now? Not when her figure is all for your eyes to drool upon, in full display with her pants and that shirt curled into a crop top unleashing something within you—she looks unreal, sculpted to perfection as the outfit accentuates her undying hotness, a gift for you to admire and lastly, savor.

Your hands roam around that tiny waist of hers, abs flexing with your enervating touch that earns faint, sultry moans escaping her lips. You caress it and she continues her vocalization, ceaseless with your aims of adoring every inch.

“God, this fit—” Your power was evident, pulling her towards you as she gasped with your domination, and then smiled as she anticipated. “—is insane. I never thought you could be any hotter.”

It’s true, factual even, because numerous people would agree to you on how hot she looks with these kinds of fits. It does help knowing how she’s cognizant to push your buttons, and with just the tip of the iceberg, you melt and those eyes of yours tell a story.

“I knew you’d love this.” Danielle’s expressions smoulders a little, her face contorting confidence as she knows how she’s your kryptonite, and it’s mutual—even if it’s ego-driven, you can’t deny the fact that she’s alluring and you love her confidence because she knows she’s fucking hot.

You’ve seen multiple cases on the Internet, ever-so-liked within the people in various social media platforms sharing Danielle’s impeccable figure and the raises alongside it. You’re glad you’re in the first row of her show, always hitting and selfish because it’s all for you eyes to see—only you. Her fragrant smell hypnotizes you and it’s effective, luring you in and investing in more efforts into worshiping her. Kisses, suckles and licks is her threshold, currently shivering with the pleasure you give her as her ragged moans are enough for a conclusion. 

“God—please, stop…” You stop once she calls your name again, hoarse, feeling that she can’t possibly handle the way you’re treating her—you assume she’s more sensitive with you and nothing else. You’re visibly puzzled, lingering that assumption within you as you’re vocal enough to address her sudden words to feed off against her needs.

“Anything wrong, Dani?”

“I—” Her lips are quivering, hands fiddling the hem of her shirt as her doe eyes invite you to listen, and you're all ears for that. “—want this.”

You know where she’s going with this as her hands run down to your pants and near the vicinity of your nether regions and god, her fingers alone would make your beast stand up in vigor. Your hands hold hers, guiding her through the zipper as your other hand finds its way onto the valet of her curves, teasing the skin of her spine that’s enough to make her release a dulcet moan towards your lips. “How do you want it, hm?”

Your voice is alluring, predominantly teasing as the last hm signifies your interest. Danielle just moans with your repeated touches, and she’s barely coherent and mostly mumbling, what more if you're going a level further? “Can’t quite hear you, baby.”

You’re now pinning her against the wall, you weight pressing against her slightly as you eyes then face her and begged, “Just kiss me first, please.”

That please of hers was so lovely and sincere you can’t afford to lose this opportunity. You were surprised with Danielle’s initiative, cupping your cheeks as she pulled you in for a kiss and you quickly reciprocated. The sloppy sounds and the sultry moans escaping your lips signals the deprivation, and it’s all fulfilling every second that passes.

Her lips are soft and you won’t get exhausted kissing those all day, even if it means your own lips to be numb. It’s sweet and hers is torrid, the exchange heating up the permeated humidity she exuded just by herself and she’s just igniting it all throughout.

“Kissing me so good, Dani…”

“Can’t blame that you taste great.” Danielle spits the truth, her lips curling up on a smirk as she bites her lip, currently in this state of need and her face alone just lit the fire inside your heart. “Now I need this.”

She cups the apparent bulge, visibly poking onto the fabric of your pants as her daring advancements makes you utter a faint moan in which she chuckled, a victory in her possession.

“Getting too bold, are we?” It’s straightforward and lustful, and definitely, you like it. 

You’re not going to introduce the necessities for foreplay and more, and with the lust growing inside you that’s matching hers, you’ll let her do what she’s great at and with a single command, reply with immediate compliance. “Drop down to your knees, baby.”

It felt like her knees faltered, dropping down with a thud onto the cold floor as her hands then found its way onto the edge of your pants, tugging them and licking her lips in anticipation. Now loosened up, she pulls them down and lets gravity do the work, making a puddle of your clothing onto your ankles. She’ll steal glances towards you while working her wonders, and the contradicting natures of the sight just below your waist sends you into overdrive—her gleeful yet seductive smile covers up to the sins that he’s about to do, and it’s aligning all too well.

“God, I’ve never done this for a while…” Danielle’s tone permeates that self-doubt since it’s factual, marking maybe months until she’d indulged herself into something like this and it doesn’t help with the group’s busy schedules and everything that’s making their time occupied prior to this.

You tilt her head, facing towards you as her eyes meet yours, and you reassure her. “You’re a natural, Dani—besides, just let yourself be what you are.”

Let herself be, and ultimately, she knows that it’s always what she is in situations like this. Letting the doubt aside and her hunger to take over, she impatiently yanked your boxers down, joining it onto the puddle of worthless clothing down to your ankles. Danielle’s eyes glimmer with that lingering captivation as soon as the beat inside you unshackles from its clothed prison, almost hitting her in the face as it stands tall and stiff, waiting for her touch to enchant it.

She coos, hot breath within that reddish crown and you moan because of it. “Still a-as monstrous as I remembered.”

The teases probably get into you (even though her tone laces with sincerity), uttering a laugh as her lips part, a pout on display, gently kissing the leaking slit and her hands roaming around your base and onto those balls she always loves to taste. Of course, the sunshine descends down into the darkest sins, carnally worshiping your cock with an eager suck to collect that liquid you’re leaking and the profound spit that she lathers all around your length. You doesn’t leave any inch untouched with her lips and sheathed with her saliva, as her attention averts down to your balls and plays with it, her hands pumping you with a leisure pace that’s enough to wring that pleasure you’re always seeking.

“Looking great so far?” Your legs are probably viable to give out, knees shuddering as her touch sends you into the abyss of gratification. She knows the answer to such a rhetorical question, living up with the compliment you withdrew earlier and it’s factual, she's naturally skilled. “You know the answer to that, Dani—fuck…”

She replies with her tongue now dancing around your throbbing cock, her snug mouth encapsulating half of your length as she eagerly bobbed, up and down, and no stopping. Your hand finds its way onto her messy bun, tied upright with a clip and you could just let yourself feel every ounce of pleasure being brought by Danielle. 

It was hurried, ephemerally increasing the pace as her mouth gets messier, her own saliva seeping out of her mouth supports the fact. You kept moaning and it invigorates her for more, until she knows she;s approaching her limit.

She gagged and immediately pulled out, and your mouth just showered her with compliments and those eyes of her shine with your approval. “You’re incredibly gifted, god…”

“Can’t help it tastes really, really good, daddy.” The name, the word, god, she knows what buttons to push against you. 

She always does, in most cases and you’re here to indulge with the fact that she’s controlling you slowly. You would give in to her dominant nature against your cock but here, you still stand and it’s contradicting—you’re nowhere near being precarious, and you’ll take that heavenly mouth of her anyday (like you would resist it).

She voiced out your insatiability, impaling her mouth with your own length and bobbed frantically, her immediate actions sending your sensitivity onto the roof and so is the pleasure. She treats your succulence like it’s her favorite popsicle, sucking onto every inch of it and savoring the flavor that’s probably inviting her more roughness and you could feel it.

“God, Dani—shit!” You’re unable to utter coherent sentences as you’re involuntarily shouting out the pleasure she brings, and you could look down and see that smile printed onto her lips, even with a mouthful of your length. You caress her cheeks, run your fingers through her dark-colored locks that’s messy enough to compliment the disarray of her doings. 

Here it comes, those eyes of hers locking onto yours, so innocently-looking with the scintillations telling a story full of her wonders and with those very eyes of hers, you’re hypnotized. Her pace never falters, almost pumping her head and kissing your base everytime she buries her throat full of your length, and it almost makes your foundations meet its crumbling outcomes. Her gags are apparent, jerking her head onto you but she fights, because she wants to deliver the utmost pleasure you deserve and with that determination, you’re absolutely going to reward her.

The inevitable is bound to happen, as she ejects onto your saliva-sheathed length, strings of her drool connecting onto her lips and your tip, marking her shirt and soaking so little of it and she catches her breath, chest heaving with what she’d done. “G-God—oh, I—”

“Hey—you did fucking amazing, holy shit…” You’re vulgar and bold, and she doesn’t mind it because it’s mutual when you did your own oral expertise onto her—possibly no one heard her swear so much as ever before whenever you eat her out, and it’s a concealing fact that’s only exclusive between the both of you.

Her lips, swollen and pink, shiver with the sin she has done but she never regretted it, and instantly becomes gleeful once your praise is registered within her. “All for you, daddy.”

Of course it is, and she was giving her hundred percent with every second of this opportunity. There’s still a soft heart within you, consulting her as your eyebrows furrowed, subtly worried. “Are you okay, though?”

“Hah… yes, daddy—I just want more of this cock.” She’s a little exasperated from such an impressive act she’d done to you, and her smiles reassures you and with the eagerness of her livid strokes says a lot. 

Danielle holds onto your rod with a vice grip, tight enough for more moans to escape your lips as her lips find its way onto your tip, lapping up the scrumptious taste that she’s addicted to. It was evident, utterly in need for you as she didn’t build up a pace slowly for yourself to get used to, and did the opposite. The pace counts for your release, and it’s evident with the way she’s doing everything in her power to inch you closer to her deserved reward. She takes more than half of you and fondled your balls, earning the sultriest and knee-shuddering moans that urges her for more.

You avert your eyes down, and she’s occupied with your cock, hammering her mouth with it and hollowing her cheeks whenever she feels wringing out the best gratification she can muster. She’s closing her eyes, feeling every inch of you until the back of her throat, gags following and you persistently throbbed in reply with that. She tames it and you admire it, fighting the urge to release her vice grip around your length.

Your eyes then drool all over her impeccable figure, even when she’s down onto her knees—the perfectly sculpted curves of her waist to her hips while her head fades onto the sight with a bobbing blur just ignites the thought of ruining her.

You're lost under her spell, and you wanted to see those beautiful eyes of hers, as she does what she’s best at. Lifting her chin up with your index finger, you gulp and give in to your desires. “Look at me when you're sucking me off, Dani.”

She obliges as she meets your gaze, your face contorting slightly with the pleasure as her ruined visage is enough to know how much she’s enjoying it.

It’s the same cacophonous sounds that deafens your ear with, the same music you won’t get tired of listening if it means to make Danielle feel the delight she always deserves—the concoction of slurps, gags and sloppy sounds are the things at the tip of the iceberg.

Her pace increases, and now, your hands find her hair again as an outlet against the ultimate pleasure she brings, drilling into her mouth deeper without your awareness, balls slapping against her chin due to her breakneck pace. You would want to prolong the dopamine rush within your veins, but the curtain calls out to a painful denouement tha would conclude the first part of an exquisite show she’s laid upon between your legs.

The throbs are persistent, and she doesn’t have a plan to pull out and you have your own desires that’s ready to be fulfilled.

“I’m close—c-can’t hold it anymore—” You gulp right after, breaths uneven as the both of you are just savoring every second, eyes closed and yearning for more. You assess every pump her mouth does, how tight and pleasurable it is and you can’t absolutely hold it anymore until something disturbed the force of things.

A loud pop is what you’ve heard, and you can just see Danielle stroking your messy length with the fastest velocity her wrists can muster, and it just earned more moans from you. “I’ve always wanted to do this, daddy…”

You know where this is going, lips curling up a smirk and pretending to be oblivious. “Do what, exactly?”

You can feel the familiar tingle within your groin, and it’s only a matter of seconds before the inevitable paints her white. “Add up to the mess I made myself, daddy.”

“Open wide, Dani.” She does as she's told to, releasing the grip that almost strangled your length and did it yourself. 

That sullied countenance of hers is a sight to cherish, savor every second and every detail on how messy and beautiful she has become as everything concludes down to the most important act. 

You groan and point it where it belongs, a pretty canvas painted white as every inch is possibly covered with how thick your load is. Every spurt hits the features where everyone leaves with an awe, living up to the words she let go of and you did just that. Nose, cheeks, forehead, mouth and even her neck—it’s incredibly lucky how none of your load got up to her clothing, possibly writing the script of just ruining what’s just worth defiling.

If these walls could just talk, you hope they wouldn’t say anything because you will be damned if anyone catches the both of you doing such unforgiving sin.

Her lips quiver, still kneeling down as she grips your stiff cock, stroking it leisurely and then inviting you with a gleeful smile that possibly refutes the sinful sight, faking the convincing innocence. 

Those eyes of her pleads, and there her dulcet voice goes and you know you can’t turn her requests down. “May I clean your cock, daddy?”

You cup her cheek, maintaining that eye contact as your fingers trace the cum you left onto her, and then directing it onto those soft, kissable lips of hers that’s known for an abundance of talents. It was agonizing with the way you trace her features, and she suckles onto your fingers needily like she hasn't sucked the life out of you just a minute ago. She closes her eyes, relishing and humming in satisfaction with the taste she’s longing to lay her taste buds on.

You pulled out and earned a whine, and then replied with a jovial approach. “No one’s stopping you.”

No one is, and not even herself. 

Her lips parts against your engorged tip, tongue swirling around it and tidying up the mess she made. It’s sensitive and it’s the guilty pleasure—it’s slightly making you turn on even more, pushing your limits and as well as the buttons for your lust. 

“You’re fucking gifted, Dani.”

It’s these small admirations of her actions that urges her to complacency, but giving everything that she got up her sleeve. Her mouth swirls around and it and eventually, she pulls out and stares at you, reeking that anticipation that lingering within her because she knows you’re not done with her.

Once she pulls out, she remains on her knees, and you take the opportunity to scoop out the cum that stained her heavenly-sinful face, directing it onto her mouth and cleans it repeatedly. It’s nearly cleaned up, but nowhere near the finish line as the both of you are just getting started, and you’re vocalizing your frustrations evidently yet nowhere near hostile.

“Get up, Dani.” She obliges with your command, your feet kicking the clothing and deeming it useful and the sunshine that gleams innocence brews a storm, and you know she’s ready for phase two.

“Dying to be balls deep inside me, daddy?” Of course you fucking are, and she’s just asking that to rile you up and it’s effective, cock twitching up in the air as soon as she let go of such sinful words.

She knows you, and it’s just making things worse in the right ways.

Danielle’s face is just inches away from you, and you’re just dying to get that feeling of her utter tightness. You grew impatient, controlling her lithe frame with a grab on her waist, and let herself face the wall and her arms resting on it as well. She gasps with your roughness towards her, chuckling a little as she wants this kind of treatment and she deserves it. A wiggle of her petite ass invites you to just undress her bottom half, but you would admire the hourglass figure she possesses, every inch of her curves urging you to defile the living life out of her.

You deeply adore her with all your heart, unable to hurt her but whenever she invites you to be one, you wouldn’t waste the opportunity and give in to your carnal desires.

Your hands roam to her clothed butt, feeling the softness of it and how it’s perfectly sculpted and all too right. Unable to deprive yourself of such a sight, you wrap your arms around her hips, undressing her pants and unshackling her heating slit and there it goes, all for you to feast upon.

“You promised to be rough, right, daddy?” She looks over her shoulder, tone laced with high expectations as a moans follows, feeling the cold air brush against her skin. 

“If that’s what you wanted—” The restraint is now onto her ankles, then off to somewhere in the vicinity. Your eyes meeting the last bit that conceals your grand prize, but it didn’t come without a reverberating sound that earned the sexiest moans Danielle could muster. “—I’m not thinking a single thought of giving you mercy.”

Fuck, she unleashed the monster within you, and it’s all for her to take.

It wasn’t just one, but a barrage of slaps onto her petite ass, making her writhe a little and her arms shaking with the pain and pleasure you’re treating her. You mark it red, imprinted with your hands before stopping and she whines, knowing the best is yet to be introduced. 

It was another moan that escaped her lips, and with the last bit of defense down and destined to be useless, you know she’s up for a show.

“Da—oh god, daddy!” Danielle whimpers once she feels you, going deeper and earning more moans that made her body shudder with the gratification. You plunge not too deep inside her, and immediately, you are met with an overwhelming tightness that puts you in the same boat as hers in correlation with the profanities you both voice out. You grab her hips and her waist, drawing herself closer to you as she’s barely standing on her ground with your control, and you’re just within the tip of the iceberg in terms of your pace.

You give herself a breathing space, but Danielle’s plans weren't in accordance with yours, her voice coarse yet still, surprisingly sweet that urges you for more.

“More, daddy—f-fuck me harder!” Your hips increase your velocity, the initial speed of it sending her thighs in a recoil with your harshness, drilling deeper and withdrawing repeatedly that’s enough to fuck her up, senseless. Somehow, she’s even coherent to articulate words, urging you for more and yearning for you to go deeper.

“Fuck—oh my fucking god, more—aw!”

“God, you’re just so tight, aren’t you, hm?” You’re pumping her like you’re marking up your dominance against her, and it’s fulfilled, now filling her up to the brim. You marvel with her unparalleled tightness, hugging your length like it’s suffocating it and repeatedly groaning because of it. With her repetitive pleas, comes resonating spanks that just makes her leak more of that nectar, creating that wetness that runs down in rivulets on her thighs. She’s creating puddles down onto the floor due to your own rough endeavors into her pussy, legs shaking and rippling in every thrust you do that sends her into overdrive.

You’d bet she’s seeing stars right now, the reason is stated as follows: withdrawing with just the crown inside and then slamming back into her, balls deep, just right for her to delve down onto lustful, high-pitched screams that voices the overwhelming pleasure running down her veins.

This is not great, and with a harsh spank, you retort at her and make sure she’s unable to do it again. “Quiet down, Dani—you’re gonna get us in trouble.”

If it’s ever the case, then the both of you probably are. The suspicious noises are just enough for someone outside to check out what’s with the pandemonium of noises that’s just getting too familiar. You didn’t care, to the very least, continuously pounding her tight cunt and dismissing the fact about the risky unveiling of the truth.

Danielles muffled her screams with a bite on her shirt, shutting herself up and that alone makes you ignite the carnal beast within you, testing how much she can bear.

Her legs are possibly wobbling, getting weaker with how rough you are treating her as every clash of your bodies results in an addition to the symphony of moans, an ocean worth swimming in if it means your ears to get blessed.

You surely are, and you’re at the top of the world because of it. 

“God—this pussy—” You groan, spanking her and then lean on to kiss her neck, your tongue nibbling onto the pristine, milky skin as your weight gives her reasons to be dangerously precarious. “—is just phenomenal. This will always be mine.”

You marked up your territory, and Danielle knows who owns her heat, and it’s up for you to ignite it. The kiss was ephemeral, hurting her because she wanted to feel your lips longer against her neck but she’s just grateful that you’re still ruining and impaling her up to the hilt with your length. Your hands run its way back to her hips, and immediately continue with a consistent pace that inches her closer to her own high.

With the way she’s leaking like a faucet around your rapid length, you know it wouldn’t be long until she reaches euphoria.

“C-Close, daddy—so fucking close—you’re fucking m-me so, so good!” Danielle’s clearly enjoying this, and with her compliments comes your own fulfilling reply. You kept fucking her cunt like it’s going to be your last, every thrusts your hips muster clashes against her skin that accentuates roughness. 

“Please d-don’t stop fucking me—please, please!” She’s lost in the blissful trance, lust and desperation taking over as gone is her innocent image, truly in the depth and unable to go back up. You did what she pleaded as her juices coats your length in all angles, even adding up onto the puddle onto the floor and wetting down her thighs. Her knees shake, arms flailing with the impact her orgasm brings her, but you didn’t stop and fucked her through it, being in the same boat as hers—lost in the trance.

Her walls clench around you and it earns that primal roar out of you, her tightness aiding to the pleasure you’re also experiencing. You’re just cognizant with the fact that her expression probably concludes into the epitome of ecstasy, and all-throughout cockdrunked with your own reckoning. Wanting another angle to savor how her walls feel, you pull out of her and she immediately whines, asking why would you do such a thing.

“No, d-daddy—no, please, put it b-bcack in—”

“I will.” You grab her wrists and her hips, turning her around to face you and given her small figure, it wasn’t a challenge to control her. “I just wanna see your beautiful face while I ruin you again—make you cum again.”

With your strength, you squat down to inch your arms under her thighs, and immediately lifted her like it’s nothing, and with her swift recovery, her senses became aware and directed your throbbing cock inside her tightness again. She yelps and involuntarily holds onto your arms and neck, supporting her frame and continues to stare at your eyes, glistening with lust.

Her back is pressed against the wall as you thrust upwards, not even starting off slow and introducing a harsh pace, like what she wanted all along. “God, I could fuck you like this all day, Dani—god, you’re hot.”

With the way her abs flex in every thrust you do steals your attention towards it. Maybe her workouts at the gym are worth something more than what she always loves to do, and you admire how toned and perfect it is in every angle. Her supple frame and her flexible legs makes it easier to drill deeper into her cunt, uttering the sultriest and hottest moans by Danielle. With this profound angle, you’re in total domination all over her, controlling her as she gives in to you, trusting you on how you’ll ruin her with care. 

“God, daddy—you’re fucking me way too good!” It’s just the deepest primal instincts within her that’s commending the way you’re treating her, and you love every word laced within it. You continue to hammer her upwards, feeling her tightness enveloping you again as her hands find a leverage to hold on but are unsuccessful knowing it’s just a wall behind her. 

Your lips then smashes against hers, wanting to increase the libido within you as the clash is something lingering with need and hunger. Both of your lips add up to the erotic soundtrack that’s composed out of spite, filling and permeating the room with the sounds of sex and nothing more. 

You’re not going to lie, the shirt that accentuated her figure is just the perfect example of a nuisance, and Danielle hurriedly undresses it, revealing those perky tits with a white bra clasped around it. She’s just too hot to bear, and a perfect candidate to be ruined and you’re proving why she lives up to that position. She threw the shirt onto the bed beside, and continued to rest her arms onto your shoulders, then resumed her moans as it became erratic once you suckled onto her neck, inhaling the scent that you always love.

“I can’t believe h-how much of slut you are for my cock, honestly.” Even if she retaliates for a reason, she can’t deny the truth as your length turns her into a new person, consumed with lust and following you like a leash. She can’t utter a response, not when she’s being pounded into oblivion and another high inching closer towards her.

“I can’t daddy—too good! Too good!!” Her exclamations are the voices of her lustful nature, she’s possibly built just to say the same sets of words once you’ve plunged everything inside her. The cluster of the same moans and pleas escapes her lips, and you know she’s set for another blissful  climax and it’s all thanks to you.

Maybe the walls weren’t so opaque to shackle what’s behind, unveiling the secretive assault towards Danielle and you didn’t care—you’re chasing towards the promised land, to set foot there and get lost within that hill.

“Gonna cum, da—” She’s cut, and then, she releases.

Nectar seeps out to the edge of the crevices, forming rivulets and spasms that’s felt in her body, magnitudes unlocking new heights of delight as you fuck her through it, knowing your hopping onto the same boat as hers.

All things are destined to an end, and you want a conclusion worthy to paint something remarkable for the both of you.

“Outside, p-please—cum for me, daddy—” You’re still carrying her while the pleas register within you, burying your shaft and immobilizing your thrusts while coursing your way towards the bed. You throw her, not enough to hurt her but enough to hear an audible thud as you pull out, and eyeing her figure with such hunger that fueled you for another release.

“I’m gonna fucking paint that tight waist of yours, Dani.” You stroke your cock with a breakneck pace, an identical event like earlier as she invites you, her tone crumbling down your walls and building up another reward you’re eager to give.

“Then paint it, daddy—ruin me.” It’s simple yet so hot that you can’t fathom how she’s able to choose words that could fuck up the way you’re thinking. She’s embracing the eventual rain of another hot load, closing her eyes and you could count to five and not make it past three—

Then, it comes.

You aim towards her slim waist, showering the abs with numerous spurts that can rival your first one, multiple shots earning moans from your lips due to how euphoric she made you. You lick your lips, hands wringing out the pleasure and prolonging and eventually, it subsides down for you to admire the fruits of your labor—a work specifically painted meticulously, done and worked on a canvas that’s sprayed white.

Her chest heaves up and down due to the exasperating session and roughness you bestowed, but looking into her eyes, there’s no glint of regret and just grateful you’re able to show who you really are.

“God, you fucked me so well, daddy…”

Your breaths are ragged, your cock getting flaccid as Danielle still has the power to stand on her wobbly legs, your cum running down her porcelain skin and her hands finding its way onto your beast, still urging for something more.

“All for—argh—you, Dani—all for you, god…” The sensitivity skyrockets, but it doesn’t matter, not when you’re finding her lips again, exchanging torrid and intimate kisses.

As you’re about to find your way onto the fine plane of her spine, and towards her ass, a heavy set of knocks baffles the both of you, and it’s fucked up 

“Dani, why are you taking so long right there? Hello, are you there with him? What are the both of you doing??” It’s a familiar voice and your senses are heightened, and with an anxious look, Danielle reassures you and shouted words that would possibly assure the girl that everything’s fine.

“Hanni’s gonna kill me, Dani—”

“Shhh…” Her fingers meet your lips, muting you for more advances that won’t help the situation. You help her clean up with the tissue that’s on her desk and hurriedly dress yourselves up, looking presentable as much as possible. “It’s fine—nothing’s going the wrong way, daddy.”

You’re living your life on the edge, and you would be damned for dear life if Hanni unveils the truth yet Danielle’s golden personality outshines that and it’s only a matter of time before she puts those onto the test.

You can end up on both roads of besmirchment, that expected disappointment from Hanni or a surprising turn of acceptance but one thing’s for sure: you achieved what the both of you wanted, and that concludes up onto a triumphant note, all wins and no losses.

[flashypunches]

( REUPLOAD I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED IT im so sorry )

You're someone who's held great resentment for your godfather.

For your first meeting, for his ego, for his murderous intent towards your father.

For his failure to provide comfort or understanding when your parents refused you as a son, when your friends have left you as a corpse.

You suffer through long years, sticking with him through thick and thin, because he’s the only one like you, the only other Death refused to take.

( The daughter he made, the cousin you mourned, Dani, is gone. She will not return to either of you. It is always his fault. )

Because he’s all you have left. The only one who wouldn't refuse you.

He moves you to a city that matches your dreary state. Vigilantes take residence, closing in on crime. Closing in on your godfather.

Vlad leaves. He doesn’t take you with him.

He leaves you his wealth, a place in a school that makes you miss home, and an order to never speak to the ones who made him run– the Waynes.

He doesn’t return. Never properly. You make due with phone calls and brief visits every now and then. You don’t mind, you preferred this more than his haphazard attempts at providing companionship when it was too late.

Your schoolmates does not like you. That is okay, even if it leaves you longing for friends.

( Sam and Tucker are in Amity and will stay there until they die. They would never come and visit a corpse like you. Not when you desecrate their friend's body, parading it around, like you're him. They know who you really are. They've always known, they just couldn't see sense before. )

But you find someone who could be one.

He is prickly, rude, disliked less, but disliked nonetheless. But he is the only other person who does not care about your worn out shoes, for your scars, your clammy skin, all the things that made your parents refuse you as a son, as sentient— or about you coming in the middle of the school year.

You care not about his attitude, desperation clawing at your mind for any form of socialization not from Vlad or who he calls company.

You make quick work of befriending him, a shared rivalry for an annoying schoolmate pulling you close together.

You learn his interests, his pets, his family. You know his name but do not ask for it. Willful ignorance could be considered bliss. Just for a moment.

He lets you stay at his house for a night, though his siblings push the matter more enthusiastically. You do not see his father.

( “He’s on a business trip.” Daniel blinks, looking up at his friend.

“Who?” he asks, despite knowing there’s only one person that Damian could be referring to.

Damian tsked automatically, “My father, you imbecile. He will return in two weeks notice.”

Daniel thinks of his godfather, of his various excuses over the years to many people, including him. But instead of telling Damian the likely truth, that his father won’t return, never like how his best friend wants him too, an “Okay” comes out in place of it.

Let him bask in ignorance, Daniel tells himself, Let your friend have this. )

His father comes back. You don’t call Vlad when he forgets you. For all he wanted you as a son, now he never tries to treat you as such.

You continue the cycle of avoiding an empty house, of sleep-overs, of waiting for something to happen.

And something does. Your godfather comes back. He lies to you that he won’t leave again. He says that he will stay longer, that the family who tried to run him out won’t succeed again.

You do not think of your best friend. Why would he even care?

Your godfather treats you like he had before, when you still had your friends, your home. Like you are a misbehaving child, and him, the tired parent.

( Shouts of an argument ring from an dead manor, before being shut out to the upstairs.

Daniel slammed the door, not caring if Vlad had heard it or not. Ancients, he'd forgotten how much of an utter fruit-loop Vlad was. He gritted his teeth, rubbing the bruise left on his wrist by the man.

Why'd he expect anything different? Vlad was just going to be his usual nutty self, and go back to treating him like he was still some misguided kid, that he would just come around to playing nice with Vlad.

The wood of the door was smooth, most likely sanded down from any splinters by the past families who lived here. Daniel moved his fingers along the grooves, faintly remembering how he had done this before, when he was better. He bit his tongue, ignoring the bitter taste of ectoplasm it brought forth.

He hadn't thought of who he was before since he'd ran. He hadn't been this angry at Vlad since he ran. He hadn't felt so like himself after he ran.

Daniel would be lying if that thought didn't make him feel just a little bit better.

He let his head fall into his knees, back leaning against the wooden door, limbs sagging. He did not cry, because the Danny from the empty home did not do that. )

It irks you, but not like before. Maybe you were doing something right if he’s treating you like this now, treating you normally. Maybe you’re back to who you were before, before the rejection scarred you.

Damian notices the change in your personality, as you notice his change in costume. He is on the rooftops, in the streets, cloaked in muted colors, not unlike your own old costume, and his family knows your godfather is back.

When you come back to school after a week of Vlad trying to bond with you without success, Damian doesn’t say a word about your godfather.

You don’t either. What even is there to say?

“Oh, I know that you are investigating my godfather, and that you’re a vigilante, surprise!”

You would have been killed ages ago if that was your response.

Your friend does not invite you over anymore. You know why, understand why but it still stabs your core, in the way a butter knife does to wood. Dents it but does not cut.

You repeat the loop of boring conversation, of stilted companionship. You grow tired of it, as you always do.

Vlad's signature is easy to forge. You get to skip your classes under the guise of it being a family emergency.

( Damian is near the gate when he gets off the bus. Daniel's ratty sneakers are hitting the ground, as he walks over to him.

The weight of his backpack feels heavy, the evidence that Daniel had stuffed inside not helping his back. Damian twirls around at his steps, a scowl already on his lips.

Daniel smiles back, readjusts the straps on his shoulders. He whispers to Damian, uncaring of the fight currently breaking out in the front, the fight that Damian is watching, "I'm getting out of school today, wanna come with?"

His friend tears his eyes away from the brawl, looking intrigued at Daniel's offer.

Damian considers the chance. The thought of having to sit through another day of school with only Jon for mild company sickens him.

"I suppose I can, though if this is a trap Masters, then let it be known that—"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it, you in still?" Daniel flashes his (only) friend a cheesy grin, ignoring Damian's eye-roll at his theatrics.

"..Yes."

-

The route to the local park is quick, though slowed by the need to be away from the public's eyes, lest they be caught right away in their venture.

Daniel gasps in a breath, ancients, did he need to jog way more. Damian easily strides beside him, the only sign that he was showing off being the smug gleam in his green eyes. Bastard.

The papers, the records, the flash-drive, all weigh down his back. Vlad has definitely noticed them missing, and he most definitely knows who took them.

But Daniel didn't care, not right now, because right now, he was spending time with his bestest friend in the whole wide world, and he'll deal with Vlad later. )

You drag Damian over to a secluded bench, taking no mind to the mutations Poison Ivy has given the plants near. The backpack is emptied, and you guide your only friend to the path that leads to Vlad's destruction.

The dread fades away, the high of adrenaline taking its place, at the crimes left behind in pieces, put back together in a backpack, and let loose into the hands of your only friend.

It feels good, like something’s been taken off your shoulders. You know that Vlad has anticipated you telling someone about what he’s done. He’s still not leaving.

Your high is running down, as you start to beg Damian not to arrest him, lying to your only friend that Vlad is a better man, and doesn't deserve to rot in a cell. You know that when you take a separate route to your homes, that he’ll tell anyway.

You can’t bring yourself to care. Vlad’ll just weasel out of it, as he always does.

He knows what you did, doesn’t bring it up, with the only sign being a watchful eye whenever you’re back in his grasp.

You get invited to a gala by your friend. You accept, uncaring of Vlad's reaction.

Your friend gets held ransom. No one’s worried, no one feels anything but annoyance. You stay away, not wanting to feel your core straining to help, to protect.

The Bats swoop in to help. You ignore the envy at their luck at having a team of other heroes to depend on.

( Your friend ) The Waynes send people after your godfather. He tries to bribe his way out of the charges, out of the jail cell that cannot hold him. They leave with him in tow.

You start staying overnight at your friend’s house even more. Damian doesn’t say a word about it.

His father does. His siblings do.

They talk about adopting you, they fight about Vlad, about what they are meant to do with your godfather, and what to do with poor old Danny. You don’t listen in much. They remind you of your parents, just a little bit. It hurts.

Vlad is let go. False charges, apparently. You know he just bribed the judge and juries.

He wants to talk to you, intent on having a conversation that lasts more than five minutes without shouting and tears ending it.

I'm sorry for not being there, please, give me forgiveness, are the only things you remember from the conversation. You do not give him what he wants, but the conversation doesn't end in slammed doors and withheld tears.

You sleep under his roof for the first time in weeks, the most civil conversation you’ve ever been with him looping in your mind. You even wonder if he’ll let you go to your friend’s birthday party.

You don’t sleep at your friend’s house as much. There’s not much need to anymore.

You wake up one night, to hear the sounds of ectoblasts and footsteps. They are on the roof, and you know what they’re here for.

You go ghost, going up the roof, watching invisibly as Plasmius shoots at the vigilantes who yell about something. You stay like that for a moment. You almost decide to let him go.

He's the only one you have left, to leave him, to abandon him, is to leave the last person in your corner. That thought is the only reason why you lift your thermos up, capturing Vlad in one fell swoop, before he leaves too.

The vigilantes are not pleased, as the Bat barks out orders to find you. You can imagine Vlad is the same, fuming at your disrespect inside the can.

With Vlad in your thermos, the Bats on your tail, there is no hope in your mind of getting out of Gotham with everything you need.

Oh Danny, what are you going to do?

[adorethedistance]

Baby Fever - Trevor Zegras x Reader

Hockey Masterlist

Warnings: swearing, smut adjacent content (post-sex interaction/make out), a joke about cheating, a joke about death, and semen... in that order...

Words: 2322

Requested: Can you please do a trevor blurb where him and y/n go to a pumpkin patch with their nephew and Trevor's playing with their nephew and y/n gets so much baby fever please

A/n: Hey y'all! I'm taking a break from the Jamie series of firsts with a requested fic. I kinda riffed on the request so there are some things you need to know beforehand: 1) they're not babysitting a nephew, they're babysitting Troy Terry's kid Greyson 2) I'm aware Greyson is currently an infant but in this fic he's a toddler 3) I understand you asked for a blurb but I'm ass at writing blurbs 4) therefore this is a part 1. (Part 2 coming soon ish?) Enjoy!

Troy Terry had sworn to never let Trevor Zegras supervise his son. Or at least, before I was in the picture anyway. I had befriended Dani over the course of several Ducks’ games after Trevor and I became official. We somehow managed to have the same schedules despite having vastly different lifestyles; at the time, she was a new mom adjusting to domestic bliss, and I was a senior at UC Irvine preparing for my post-grad plans. Now that I’m not overwhelmed with work as a student, she and I grew pretty close. More often than not, we found ourselves having several hangouts without our guys present. Naturally, I saw Greyson a lot, considering the fact that I would spend my time with Dani in the Terry residence.

Our latest hang out consisted of us gabbing about the latest drama with Greyson’s preschool over a glass of wine. In telling me that Greyson was between daycares right now, I offered to take him off her hands for a night so she and Troy could have a much needed date night. At first, Dani refused, not wanting to dump the responsibility on me, but I insisted. There were several pros: I love kids, Dani has done plenty of favors for me before, Greyson’s already comfortable with me, and they wouldn’t have to pay for a babysitter. Pleased with my argument, Dani agreed and the plans were set. 

This Friday, the team had a day off and rather than having the guys disappear onto the nearest golf course, Dani and Troy began planning their night off, as did Trevor and I.

“Hey, babe, I was thinking about how to spoil you and thought we could get a table at The Ranch tonight. What do you say?” Trevor asks, holding my hips and subtly pinning me against the kitchen counter.

“About that.”

“What’s up?” He asks, deviously dipping his head down. I don’t give in to whatever seduction game he’s playing, and quickly peck him on the lips.

“I kind of made evening plans.” He takes the kiss in stride and looks at me teasingly.

“Is your boyfriend back in town already?”

“Yeah, he wanted to go to The Ranch, too. I just can’t have my boyfriend and my side piece in one place, soooo.” 

“I’ve been demoted to ‘side piece’? Ouch,” Trevor laughs before sliding his hands along my waistband to clasp behind my lower back, and pull me into him so our hips touch. “Fuck. Now you’ll never pick me over him!”

“Oh, that was always the plan. Don’t get it twisted.” He laughs once more before asking,

“What’s going on tonight?” I open my mouth to answer and as I do, he slips his hand down to grab my ass, catching me by surprise.

“Hey!” Right as I scold him, Jamie walks into the kitchen to refill his water bottle. I try to bite back the smile that creeps across my features, flustered by Jamie’s newfound presence. 

“Hey Jamo,” Trevor says casually, to try and ease the awkwardness.

“You guys know I still live here, right?”

“Sorry, Jamie.”

“I’m going grocery shopping. Just try to keep it in your room, Z.” 

“Keep what in my room?” He asks, playing dumb, much to Jamie’s dismay. He merely shakes his head and leaves the kitchen. Watching Jamie leave, Trevor follows with his gaze, tracking Jamie’s movements to the opposite direction until he hears the front door open and close. After, he turns back to face me, “You were saying?”

“I told Dani I would watch Greyson.”

“What?!” I half expected Trevor to be upset, but he’s sporting the widest smile I’ve ever seen.

“Yeah, she and Troy were due for some alone time, so I offered to take him to the pumpkin patch tonight.”

“When?”

“They’re dropping him off around 5.”

“5. What time is it now?” Trevor leans away from me to look at the clock on the oven that reads 2:57. “Oh, we have time.” 

“Time for wha-” I cut myself off with a screech as Trevor picks me up and sits me on the open counterspace. He pushes my knees apart to stand between them, the dominant action in tandem with the cold countertop underneath me sends shivers down my spine. He then kisses me passionately, trailing his fingers up the length of my exposed thighs. His hands find the top of my waistband, running along the hem as he presses his hard on into my core. I hold either side of his face in my hands, squeaking once more as Trevor picks me up and carries me to his bedroom.

___________________________

Panting and still slightly sweaty, I check my phone to see the clock reads 4:43. “Shit.” 

“What?” Trevor asks curiously. He’s laying on top of the covers, fully nude and sprawled out, after having collapsed on the bed next to me.

“It’s 4:43,” I say between sticky breaths. He shuts his eyes and groans loudly,

“Give me, like, five minutes.” 

“Uh, no sir. You need to get me a towel so I can get up and pee.” Trevor’s eyes shoot open and he sits up. 

“Right. Boyfriend duties await.” His expression is humorous and I can’t help but notice the way his abs flex through the movement. If it weren’t too late, I’d have jumped him again, then and there. He rolls off the bed, sliding on the nearest pair of briefs he can find. Trevor then grabs the towel hanging on the doorknob, and walks over to where I am on the bed, propped up on my elbows. The gravity of holding myself up causes the beaded sweat to roll down my cleavage, and on to my stomach where Trevor had finished a few minutes prior. He doesn’t say anything but I clock the way his eyes are trained on my chest as he approaches me. I hold out my hand for the towel but he holds it out of reach. 

“What are you-?” 

“Lay down.” 

“What? Why?”

“Just do it!” I confusedly put my head back on his pillow and Trevor grabs both ends of the towel, opening it up to lay it over me. “I’m calling it. Time of death, 4:44 PM. Rest in peace, Y/n, I’ll miss you.”

“Oh my god,” I say from under the towel. Pulling it off my face, I sit back up to find Trevor snickering at his own joke. “Are you proud of yourself?”

“Very.” He leans down and places a sweet kiss on my lips. When he pulls away, my eyes flutter open and he gently lifts the towel to cover his hand, then wipes off the leftover fluid. I look up at him as he moves, a soft smile of adoration painting my features. Trevor looks down at me and widens his eyes teasingly before relaxing to smile at me again.

The sound of the front door opening echoes down the hall and from the entrance we hear Jamie call, “I’m back! Please tell me you’re clothed!”

“Don’t worry about it, Jamo!” Trevor calls back before wadding up the used towel and throwing it at me.

“Ew!” I should’ve known him being sweet wasn’t going to last. Sliding off the side of the bed, I pick up my clothes and walk into the bathroom to pee. After I’m dressed again, I come out to see Trevor had thrown on the outfit he was wearing earlier: a v-neck polo and board shorts. 

“You can’t wear that,” I say in disbelief.

“Why?” Trevor looks at me in confusion. Turning to the mirror that hangs on the back of the door, he takes in the fresh hickeys littered across his exposed chest. “Oh shit.” The revelation is perfectly timed with a knock on the door. Nudging Trevor out of the way, I exit his bedroom and leave him to change. Jamie is unloading groceries with his airpods in and I wave when I walk by to signal that we’re done and he can exist peacefully again. 

Answering the front door reveals Dani and Troy in the nicest casual clothing I’ve ever seen. The Terry’s smile upon seeing me and I look at Greyson who’s sitting on Dani’s left hip.

“Hi Grey!” I cheer and he immediately smiles. I then notice Troy holding what seems to be Greyson’s booster seat and as I go to reach for it, Trevor appears behind me. Greyson runs inside and begins punching Trevor’s leg with all the might his almost-four year old arms can manage. I laugh but Dani scolds,

“Greyson, we don’t hit people, remember?” He immediately stops, thinks for a moment, and then proceeds to throw punches at Trevor but without making contact. Dani sighs exhaustedly before saying, “Good enough.”

“How’s it going, man?” Trevor asks Troy, causing Dani and me to look at the guys incredulously.

“You saw each other yesterday,” I tease. Trevor shrugs as he takes the car seat from Troy. 

“Terry’s my boy though,” He responds somewhat jokingly. Greyson then speaks up,

“What about me?” The group laughs about the sweet question but Greyson isn’t amused. He looks around, confused, before stepping further into the apartment to scope it out. Greyson then yells, “I wanna go to the pumpkin patch!”

“Read you loud and clear, bud,” Trevor replies. Then, Dani asks practically,

“What time do you need him out of your hair?” To which I reply,

“Oh don’t worry about it, we can hang onto him for as long as y’all need.” 

“Are you sure?”

“Of course.”

“Okay, well, his bed time is eight, and that’s usually around when we get tired anyway, so we’ll be here around then?.”

“8 it is,” I say with a smile, leaning away to look at Greyson fully. He smiles shyly before hiding his face against Trevor’s leg. “Why are you being shy, Grey-Grey?” I ask, looking down at his level. 

“I think he has a little bit of a crush on you.”

“Really?” I ask with a tiny bit of a laugh. Troy chimes in,

“Yeah, he was super excited when she told him you were the one babysitting-” 

“He’s been looking forward to it all week.” Dani finishes Troy’s sentence before they look at one another and smile, “In fact, he told me he has something to tell you, right Grey?”

“You’re pretty, Y/n,” He admits before running away, which causes the four of us to laugh.

“I told you my boyfriend was back in town,” I tease, which then makes Trevor laugh heartily. Turning back to Dani and Troy, they both look confused and I feel my cheeks grow warm in embarrassment.

“Inside joke,” I reassure. They nod and offer a few goodbyes to me, Trevor, and Greyson, before heading out for good. 

Closing the door behind us, Trevor sets down the car seat and says,

“I gotta up my game now that I have competition.”

“Yeah, so behave!” Trevor touches his left hand to his heart, giving me a look that reads melodramatically offended, “You’re currently in the lead, though.”

“I better be,” he bites back, wrapping his arm around the back of my body, coming to rest his right hand on my hip. His thumb brushes the hem and I look up at him over my left shoulder, 

“You’re still turned on?” I whisper, in shock. Trevor doesn’t reply. His hand slinks down to my ass as he kisses my lips heatedly, before he goes to follow Greyson’s path. I follow close behind and see Greyson’s found Jamie in the kitchen.

“Can I have one?!” Greyson shrieks upon finding a box of fruit by the foot. Jamie laughs at his excitement before asking,

“Do your parents even let you have sugar?” The dry humor is lost on the young child but I snort a laugh. 

“I’ve had these before in my lunch!”

“...Okay, sure. Let me open it for you. I don’t trust you to not destroy the box.”

“Jame, can you keep an eye on him for a second so we can get shoes on?” Trevor asks.

“He just got here and you’re already pawning off your responsibility on me?” Jamie playfully accuses Trevor, who looks offended. I laugh, partially at Jamie’s joke, and partially at watching Trevor misunderstand his roommate in real time. Jamie looks at me and we laugh about the joke going over Trevor’s head. 

I then head for the bedroom to search for the shoes I was once wearing. Trevor enters a little after I do to pull a pair of white sneakers from his closet. He’s uncharacteristically quiet. I almost want to ask what for, but then I’m overcome with the desire to let him stew in the silence. If I wait long enough, he’ll have to speak. He always does. Or, at least, he usually does. 

“Do you want kids?” He works up the nerve to ask, quickly adding, “Someday?” in hopes of softening the blow of the genuine conversation topic.

“Probably someday,” I answer simply, which sends him back into an introspective silence for a moment.

“How many kids would you want?” I look over at him to see he’s staring at me, as if tearing his gaze away would shatter the moment. I continue putting on my shoes,

“I think two is a good number. That way they can have a sibling, but not so many that they would feel their needs went unmet. Why?”

“I could do two,” Trevor says assuredly, ignoring my question.

“Well, I’m sorry to break it to you, but you’re about two rings short of trying to have a baby with me right now,” I assert in a teasing way, although I’m not joking. The tension of the conversation dissipates as Trevor laughs. 

“Fair point,” Trevor squints his eyes at me, “But we can still practice, right?” I laugh again before nodding,

“We can at least agree on that.”

***

a/n: hope y'all enjoyed that and stay tuned for part 2 that'll drop sometime this week or next. let me know if you have a request for either Trevor or Jamie bc I'm on a ducks kick rn! Sidenote: is anyone else absolutely obsessed with the fact that we can copy paste tags now?? saves so much time !!!

[vetteltea]

Carlos Sainz and Hot Cocoa and Warm Hands [no warnings]

Day 5 of the Vetteltea Advent Calendar

Note: There’s nobody I’d ever want to dedicate a Carlos Drabble to more than his actual WAG, @silverstonesainz. Dani, not only are you such a creative, kind, beautiful and talented creator, you’re also one of the greatest friends I could ever ask for. I could not be more thankful that we crossed paths and that our stupid love of Spanish men brought us together. I love you so much, sweetpea. 

It’s blistering cold in central Madrid, something you hadn’t witnessed since moving to the city with your boyfriend. 

It wasn’t entirely your fault for not climbatising; after all, three days after settling into his home, the two of you had been whisked away to Las Vegas and Abu Dhabi, your body so overwhelmed from the Jet Lag that you had done nothing but sleep and watch with wide eyes as Carlos drove the SF-23 to the absolute best of his ability. 

‘Only one more race,’ you had reminded him, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek when he had clambered out of the car, wanting nothing more than for this season to be over. He was fairly certain the entire team felt the same. Every team felt the same, if you took away Red Bull.

No, what Carlos was excited for was to take a step away from the track, the bright lights and shades of red he was dressed in each weekend. The man had actually passed on the farewell party in Abu Dhabi; he had already said his farewells to the drivers and wanted to get back on the plane and take you home. After all, this would be the first time you could be together in your new home for more than three days. 

The man would have been content to leave his suitcase in the walkway, lift you into his toned arms and bury the two of you underneath the blankets on his bed, silent from the outside world. However, as the days move by, Christmas begins to draw close enough for the two of you to put up decorations, bake cookies and watch movies. He’s never been this domesticated, not with any of his other girlfriends. He didn’t feel comfortable; Carlos has always been seen as a strong male, built with golf, gym and driving. 

And yet…with you, he could relax. He could smile as you wiped flour on his tanned cheek, kissing you whilst another Hallmark movie played from the television system. Carlos remembered his father’s gruff voice, insisting that when he found the right woman, everything would change. Now, as his fingers laced with yours, dressed in his long winter jacket that you had insisted went well with your outfit, he finally understood.

The two of you had left your blissful home and Piñon for long enough to meet his family in the city. It wasn’t your first time meeting the Sainz’s, but Blanca had recently taken a new position in the city, whilst his mother had insisted they needed a reunion now you had moved in with her son. 

Of course, you were all too excited to see them, unlacing your fingers from your boyfriend and dashing over to be scooped into the warm arms of your (one day,) Mother, Father and Sister’s in law, kisses pressed to your rosy cheeks and stories spread whilst you linked arms with Ana. Carlos stepped in line with his father, the elder man patting his son on the back. 

“Ha sido bueno desde que se mudó aquí, ¿no?” He asks if everything has worked out since you had moved in; the grin on Carlos’ face answers the question. 

“Perfecto.” He answers, springing into a spiral of how each moment, something as simple as waking up or making the bed was now romanticized, simply because you were there to share the moment with him. 

Eventually, the group of you stop by the central grand-stand, traditional Christmas Music being played to everybody in the city. Your boyfriend takes the moment to slip an arm around your shoulder, his taller frame pulling you into his chest and a soft kiss pressed against your temple, beaming at having you in his touch. His brows tighten when he laces his fingers back into his palm, pulling away as if he had been violently shocked. 

You’re confused, watching him mumble to both of his sisters, his mother, before tapping his father on the shoulder, the two Sainz men stepping away from the group. Curiosity willed you to keep your eyes trained, until Reyes cooed in delight, drawing your attention back to the stage as a group of children stepped on, ready to sing carols to the festive crowd. 

The performance has you in such a trance that you don’t recognise your boyfriend’s return until you feel a hand on your lower back, turning in his touch, eyes widening when you see the deep red takeaway cup, filled with a rich, dark chocolate liquid. Your heart softens as he hands you the cup, seeing each of the women had been given an identical cup, letting the warmth spread across your fingers as you take a sip.

It’s heavenly; you’re almost certain you’ll be dragging the poor boy back into the city at any given moment simply so you could try this drink again. He wouldn’t mind, he would happily replay this moment in his mind for an eternity, so long as it was always with you. 

The cup is lifted to his own lips, your own eyebrows raising as you wordlessly offer him a sip of the drink. Ana and Blanca are intensely focused on the interaction, their younger brother taking a sip of the drink and beaming at you, passing the hot drink between one another until the cup is empty. 

“Are your hands a little warmer now, Cariño?” He’s concerned; although there’s a delight in being here with you, he doesn't want you to get too cold. Before you can answer his question, he simply takes your two hands into his own, cupping them in his larger palms and pulling them upwards to his lips, leaving soft kisses against your skin. 

“You’re so cheesy.” You tease, taking delight in how he laughs like a schoolchild, pulling you into his chest and pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. 

“Only for you.” 

[httpsdana]

Master List part 2

my first master list doesn't fit links anymore so here's a part 2!

part 1

Jamal Musiala

Lost In Translation

Wildest Dreams

Hey Husband

Protector

Oops?

One Last Chance

Marc Guiu

Practice Makes Perfect

Marc Bernal

Jealousy and a Pout

A Question Of Timing

Sleepless Conversations

Yours To Keep

Pablo Gavi

Moonlit Ladder

The Bug Scare

Prank Gone Wrong

When The Storm Passes

Midnight Cookies

Distant Hearts

Pau Cubarsi

Breaking the Silence

Beautiful Boy

Blush and Bliss

Heartfelt Equations

Healing Touches

Puppy Love

Hector Fort

Chasing What's Right

Too Much

Kenan Yildiz

Game on

Pretty Eyes

Our Little Family

Sunshine and Grumbles

Post Game Surprise

Cozy Evening

Close Tonight

Xavi Simons

Party Rescue

Family Love

Missing Dessert

Taking The Risk

Riled Up

Exhausted

Dani Olmo

Night Drive

Ansu Fati

Snacks And Sunsets

In the Heat of It

Stolen Moments

Pedri Gonzalez

Loyal Red

Sweet Relief

Arda Güler

Comforting Embrace

João Fèlix

Bestie

Alejandro Balde

Attached At The Hip

Lucas Bergvall

Sweet Like Strawberry

Marcus Rashford

Floating Near

[jackoshadows]

I love how this post is tagged as anti-Jonerys and anti-Jonrya - Jon’s canonical connections in the books. As in they think there is no way that Jon can get a loving family and domestic life with Arya and Dany 😂😂😂

Even more ridiculous that these fans grasp hold of that one Jon Snow paragraph where he is considering Stannis’ offer and ponders on starting a family in Winterfell - with Val!! Who he thinks is hot because she shanked a guy in the throat with a knife - ‘ Lonely and lovely and lethal, Jon Snow reflected, and I might have had her.’ And he thinks he might have started a family with Ygritte if she had lived. And yet Dany and Arya are somehow exempt from domestic bliss when they too want family and home - same as every other main character in the books!!

“All that Daenerys wanted back was the big house with the red door, the lemon tree outside her window, the childhood she had never known.”

Needle was Winterfell's grey walls, and the laughter of its people. Needle was the summer snows, Old Nan's stories, the heart tree with its red leaves and scary face, the warm earthy smell of the glass gardens, the sound of the north wind rattling the shutters of her room. Needle was Jon Snow's smile.

The sexism just jumps out of the page in these kinds of posts and the sad thing is the way this fandom embraces farcical misogynistic nonsense like this.

[justplainwhump]

Just A Fling: Question

[Just A Fling]... - or is it? Peyton tests the waters.

(Peyton and Valerian belong to @wildfaewhump, and they killed me with this idea that haunted me)

Content: no warnings; just serious talking during (non-explicit) consensual sex. Complicated relationship dynamics, extra-marital affair.

"Would you marry me?"

It's the worst possible moment to push Peyton off of her.

He's on top, doing that thing he does, where he angles his hips, and everything around Dany dissolves into bliss.

Usually.

That question does not dissolve.

"Fuck," she hisses, hands up against his chest to stop him from going on.

He slows down, catching one of her wrists with his hand and kissing the inside of her arm instead.

"Stop it," she says. Her voice is softer than the turmoil in her chest. She withdraws her arm and pushes herself back.

"Was I not good?", he asks with the cheeky grin that betrays he knows it's not that. He knows that he's good. He's the best she's ever had.

"You're married, Peyton."

"I said would. Hypothetically."

"Would I hypothetically marry you? In what world would that be?"

He leans down to press a tender kiss on her collarbone. His forehead rest against her skin for a moment, soft and warm. "I could get a divorce."

The wetness on her thighs feels uncomfortably cool. She shuffles uneasily. "We're not like that, Peyton. I thought we'd established that. I - I am not like that."

"Valerian could take the pets."

She closes her eyes, tiredly. "It's not about the pets."

"Is it about me?"

She looks up again, stares into his light green eyes, the speckles of gold and brown. There's something serious hidden in his frown, something earnest, something she thinks she's never seen.

"I could -"

She stops him with two fingers on his lips, before he says anything stupid. 'Change.' 'Be better.'

Could he, though?, a part of her wonders. Could she?

"I don't do romance, Peyton. I don't swing that way. I wouldn't get married for love. Not even hypothetically."

The pause isn't long. Two heartbeats. Maybe three, before he blinks, his frown smoothing out, a familiar grin creeping back on his lips.

"For money, then?" He kisses her sternum. "For power? We could rule the world together." More kisses, a soft trail down her stomach. She groans, as he easily reignites her arousal. His hands are on her hips, his breath on her thighs. "Or maybe just for an exclusive claim on the best sex you could ever imagine?"

There's a snide comment on her lips, about faithfulness and loyalty, but she holds back. It's not about that.

She angles her hips, one hand reaching for his head, fingers running through his dark hair.

"Shut up," she says. "Stop talking. There's better uses for your mouth right now."

His eyes sparkle with amused excitement. She tells herself that's all she saw in them, before his head dips down between her legs and his tongue sends her back to that bliss.

It's all that's meant to be. It's enough.

[bbgliker-teehee]

i love how the fans think us criticals are utterly miserable. ever since i left the fandom after finally realizing what a pos v*v is and actually acknowledging the valid controversy and criticism about both shows and personally being appalled by H*H, i feel, i dunno, more free? i come out of the space that calls ppl like us "haters" or "antis". that's how blindly i followed v*v and her fans. looking back, that whole mess is either a cult or a level of parasocial that's not measurable by any human. i also used to follow the infamous dani*draws. to add to that, H*H and H*B used to be a special interest of mine, and while my heart still aches about this and desperately wants to go back to LITERAL blissful ignorance, i know better than that. its hard, but it's the right thing to do. anything else would be inexcusable to me, personally...

having found the h*zbin critical tags made me feel more at 'home' than the fandom ever has. i'm having a blast over here, this is surprisingly a lot of fun! i love seeing people post their own interpretations and designs, but also the criticism in itself!!

btw, i can't remember who posted it, but I've heard all the exorcists are a) women and b) named after genitalia. (it might be wrong but considering it's viv its so realistic anyways). i also dont know the exact name, but i have seen something along the lines of "lieutenant clitourios" or something like that. i wish i was kidding.

Maybe because you ARE free, for example don't you notice that once in awhile when Mega fans of Vivziflop don't like a certain scene/episode of the show all of a sudden tons of Vivshit stans take it way too far and cancel that person???

Oh and that character you are referring to is actually called lieutenant Clitorissa...and as someone who is a 'issa' that name makes me gag...

[dabbles-in-drabbles]

Forgiveness and Vengeance

Summary:

Andan knew her end would come, she had made peace with that. She knew exactly how she was going to die, and she knew it would not be at the hands of Mindflayers.

She was infected, survived the shipwreck, and defeated the goblins. All this with strangers watching her back, and a vampire watching her neck.

If she was to die, she knew she at least lived her life how she wanted to, even with all of the unexpected twists.

Pairing: Astarion x Tav

Tav: Andan, Oath of Vengeance Paladin

Chapter 6: Loss

One moment Andan had Astarion in her arms, humming to him softly until he had fallen asleep. She knew she had followed suit not too long after him, but she knew they were in her tent and not the forest she was in currently. Her brows pursed, Where am I- oh wait, Gale.

She spotted him not too long after the thought occurred to her. He was sitting in his night clothes, staring up at the stars in the middle of a gorgeous meadow. It was almost poetic.

He glanced at her, a smile gracing his lips. He gestured for her to sit with him, which she did after a few moments. She made sure he stayed on her left side, keeping him in her sight.

“You wanted to speak with me, Gale?”

“Yes! Thank you for joining me. It is good to speak with you in private.”

She gave him a small smile, “Of course… but what did you wish to speak with me about?”

“Ah, yes! Forgive me, I was distracted briefly. But, it was about Hilor’s journal- Dani, don’t give me that look, please. It’s that look you gave to Kahga, and I don’t appreciate it.”

She knew exactly what he was talking about. Pursed lips, narrowed eyes, and trying ever so desperately to not strangle him. The look she gave people when she was done with their shit. Just like how she was done with people pestering her about her late mentor’s book.

“Then why ask about it again when my answer has been clear?”

“Because I want to help you, Andan. You can not have just Astarion-”

“You respect all of my boundaries but this one, Gale. I expected to get the same outcome, but I suppose I am left sorely disappointed.”

There was a sharp intake of air from Gale. She could see the struggle in his eyes, the want to push but knowing he shouldn’t.

“I wish to help you, Dani. To help all of us. But… if you still truly do not want it, I suppose I have no choice but to concede.”

She did not reply, merely keeping her silence as he decided to follow suit. They sat there for a few moments, watching the imagery slip away. In the end, Andan was left with the blissful darkness of a dreamless slumber.

When she did awake, she was in a warm embrace. Not sweltering, not freezing but a nice warm temperature. The weight of limbs over her own was comforting. She briefly felt panic over the deathly stillness of her bed partner before she remembered what had transpired before the dream. 

Astarion confessed what he had done. Confessed that he had feelings. They started a courtship. He stayed the night.

An almost giddy feeling washed over, almost drowning out the terror she felt. 

-

They were too late. Damn her curiosity of wanting to explore the ruined temple. The Duergar slavers and their Gnome slaves were gone, missing from their resting place. The place where Nere was trapped had been opened, leaving the drow half-crawl out of the poisonous gas beyond the opened cavern. He must’ve died trying to crawl out.

She didn’t know where they would’ve taken the slaves, she had no knowledge of the Underdark bar which she’s only recently learned.

It was her fault. She could’ve saved them.

She watched as Shadowheart went over and cut off Nere’s head, hooking his head off to the side of Lae’zel’s belt.

Andan normally would have felt a twinge of relief in not having to fight, in having their job done for them by nature. All she felt now was numbness.

Deliberate footsteps sounded at her blindside, though she recognized the gait. She did not flinch when a cold arm hesitantly wrapped around her shoulders. Andan leaned into Astarion, closing her eyes tightly as she let her head hang.

“It’s not your fault, Dani.”

“Like hells it isn’t. My inaction led to this. They’re gone, still enslaved.”

He was silent for a moment, hand tightening at her shoulder. She could hear the other two walk away, the tension between the Githyanki and Half-elf was high already but they seemed to have put it aside. It was odd to not hear them be at the other’s throat for once.

“After all of this is over, Dani… we can come back for them. We’ll find them.”

She finally opened her eyes, straining her neck to look up at him. Astarion was looking straight ahead. He was tense, and uncomfortable but was pushing it aside in an attempt to comfort her. She felt a small smile crack along her lips.

“... You’ll be there?”

He glanced down at her, his lovely lips quirking into a smirk, “Every step of the way, love.”

“Thank you.”

He did not respond back, instead moved her around to start heading back towards their camp. His arm did not leave its place around her even after they reached the rest of their group. She could feel Gale’s stare yet she ignored it. Ahead she could hear Shadowheart and Lae’zel get into it once again.

She sighed softly, boarding the ship with Astarion. She steeled herself to return back to the Myconid colony.

-

Life-Chanter. What bullshit.

The Myconids were celebrating the death of Nere, their enemy was gone. Andan sat off to the side of the celebrations, a bottle of wine in hand that she was sipping softly. As beautiful as the Underdark was, she wanted to be gone from this place. Away from her disappointment and failure.

Astarion had left her some time ago, and said he had to go speak with someone on a rather urgent matter. She did not stop him from leaving, no matter how much she wished he had stayed. He said he would only be a few minutes, but it had been well closer to two hours at this point.

She heard two sets of footsteps off to her right, hurriedly twisting to see who was coming. Her chest tightened the moment she saw them.

Astarion was there along with Thulla, the gnome. The same person whose people Andan’s idiocy had let stay in their bounds.

She gave a small nod of her head, “Astarion. Thulla… good to see you are doing better.”

The gnome gave a small tense smile before dropping it, “Thanks… I wanted to talk to you, though, Paladin.”

Andan felt icy fear grip her chest. 

“When you go after those slavers, when you finish… whatever you lot need to do. I want to be there. When you’re ready, I’ll be here. I want to help.”

Her eyes widened, staring at the deep gnome. There was fear in her eyes, but a determination. She understood.

Andan gave a small smile, reaching her hand out, “I would have it no other way.”

The smaller woman reached for Andan’s hand and gave it a solid shake. They stood like this for a few moments before Thulla walked off without another word. 

“You talked to her..?” Andan looked up at Astarion, watching as he came to sit at her side.

He grabbed the bottle of wine she had set down, taking a hefty swig from it before he spoke, “Idle chit chat- happened to come up.”

His eyes refused to meet her own, glancing about at the celebration. He was relaxed, yet there was a nervous tension to him. He was lying, he deliberately brought it up.

Andan felt a chuckle bubble up from her chest, not bothering to stop it.

“What? Did you see something funny, love?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Oh! Oh! Was it Wyll trying to outdrink Karlach? Cause he is absolutely sloshed.”

Andan let out a whisper of a laugh, leaning into his side. She felt him tense up ever so briefly before relaxing and leaning into it. His head dipped down next to her own, lips to her ears. She felt a shiver run through, anticipation rising.

“You look rather tired, dear. I think it’s time for you to retire for the night.”

She stopped, brows furrowing. She turned her head towards him. There was no flirtatious look, no heated eyes. No, there was only the most serious look on his face.

“I’m not tired.”

“Physically? No. Socially and emotionally? Yes, darling, you are.”

She huffed, glaring at him. 

Astarion stared back, raising his brows at her, “Are you going to go back to your tent and open up that book we found?”

Andan pursed her lips, glancing away. She did find an interesting fiction novel a few days ago. She hadn’t yet had a chance to crack it open. Looking back up at him, she saw his face morph into an expression reminiscent of a pleased cat. He knew he won the moment they locked eyes once more.

“... fine. I’ll go to bed.”

“Thank you, darling.” 

“You’ll… join me later? If you want to?” He had already begun to stand at this point, stopping to look back down at her. There was something in his face that she couldn’t quite place. Was it nervousness? Whatever it was vanished the moment that he smiled at her. It was his cheshire grin, but something soft and private.

“Of course, I’ll join you in a bit, love.”

She smiled back, standing up and heading towards her tent to rest. Glancing back at him once more as she was going to close the tent flap behind her revealed that he was still watching her. His face was soft, tinged with happiness.

Previous | Next

[shoukohime]

inspired by that cursed kiss marry kill, may I go with fdp, cdu, spd OR you can do Dani (thobm), Dani (midsommar), Dany (got)

Wow, anon, you really went all out. I'll go with the second one (obviously) (also a hard one) (you're really creative, though, anon! I'm impressed.) Thank you for playing! 🩷

You know, while all of them are great individually, I don't think any one them are good marriage prospects?? You'll have domestic bliss with Dani (thobm) but will be left a young window. Dany (got) is objectively the best choice because she is powerful, confident and passionate - but she might burn down a city or two and commit a couple of war crimes. Dani (midsommar) - yeah, no. She deserves so much better but holy shit, I won't even go there.

Kiss Daeneris, marry Dani (thobm), kill Dani (midsommar) (sorry) (I do feel bad about it)

@wehavecometoanend--maybe this is your legacy !!

[wardenparker]

A Few Fic Recs for Your Day!

On this beautiful Fic Friday, please enjoy a few treats for the soul 🧡 As always, a double asterisk (**) denotes explicit content for my stories. Each story has its own content warnings!

Some Seasonal Offerings from Previous Years:

Together for Christmas Frankie Morales x reader x Benny Miller Established thruple with a pregnant reader

More Than Mistletoe** Marcus Pike x reader Marcus invites the café owner he's had a crush on to be his date to the company Christmas party.

What are you doing here? Marcus Moreno x reader A microfic of married Marcus and reader preparing for Christmas for their kids.

Some Favourite Fics that I Cannot Recommend Highly Enough:

Shots by @julesonrecord Jack Daniels x reader My current reading, and I love love love this Jack. Jules has a knack for characterization that is the absolute tops and someday we're actually gonna collab on something to share with y'all. But until then, let this knock your socks off.

I’ll Be Home for Christmas by @youvebeenlivingfictional Marcus Pike x reader A seasonal choice featuring husband/dad Marcus, but everything Dany writes is gold. Seriously. I've picked up new fandoms based on her writing.

An Unspoken Rule by @youvebeenlivingfictional Will Miller x reader Double dipping on Dany's writing because this is the first thing by her I ever read (like 2+ years ago!) and I still voraciously reread it whenever I get the craving for a good Will fic.

Home by @absurdthirst Frankie Morales x reader x Santiago Garcia This is just a fucking masterpiece, guys. Keri ripped my heart out and stamped on it with this one, then picked it back up, dusted it off, and tucked it back in my chest with a kiss. I adore this story.

Surprise by @absurdthirst Dave York x reader This is slightly cheating because Keri wrote me this fic as a birthday present, but I love it so much. It's such a nice little slice of domestic bliss Dave and seeing that side of him is so sweet.

[miss-celestia13]

Jonerys Smut One Shot

Snippet:

“Really, Jon? Here?” She asked breathlessly, eyes slamming shut as he bit down on her hammering pulse and hummed, “Someone will see…”

He lifted his head, dark eyes blazing with familiar desire, and said, “You’ll have to be quiet then, Dany.”

Her whimper was cut off, his mouth sealing over hers as she clutched at his shoulders and sighed happily, the weight of duty falling away with the sweep of his tongue. He was lighter-clad than he’d been the last time she saw him, and it made her smile despite her paranoia at the possibility of being caught indulging in her King in a dingy alcove. The rough wall at her back scraped her skin, her flimsy dress not much of a barrier as he pressed in closer, that knee between her thighs offering the promise of friction as heat spread through her veins. His plush lips were sweet and insistent, bruising then tender and back again as she hung on and welcomed the bliss he could offer her. It turned frantic as his hands slipped through her hair, most of it left down at his behest, and she was glad of it as he pulled her head to the side, the kiss turning messy as a lick of luscious pain licked across her scalp.

~*~

Tired of the tedium of duty, Daenerys sets out to find Jon and steal him away to their chamber before anyone can interrupt. Jon has another idea. Quiet now, or the whole Keep will come looking. Just smut. No plot whatsoever!

[lya-dustin]

All is bliss

Chapter 23

Cw: unintentional bodyshaming, mentions of symptomatic pregnancy in men, prophecied infant death, bullying, implications of religion persecuting people

Taglist: @mercedesdecorazon @darylandbethfanforever9 @aemondx @ewanmitchellcrumbs @sweethoneyblossom1

Gif:@elena-gilbert

Being a hostage is surprisingly fun.

Apart from leaving the keep, he is quite free.

He has trained with her Queensguard, read until his eye hurt, eaten good food, had intelligent conversation with her courtiers and, best of all, had her in his bed every night.

Sure, he must be loyal to his brother and he cannot stand her brothers ---the feeling being mutual--- but he was quite content as her prisoner.

“If Teora pinches my cheek again and tells me I look like Daemon, I will tell her she looks like Vaemond.” Aemond complains to Helaena as he sits on his stool like a good boy as she presses his hair with her hot comb.

“Don’t say that, she will be sad and then Daenaera will cry and then I will cry too.” Helaena talked him out of it as of he had been serious.

“It was a joke, Hel. A bad one. It’s just annoying to wear Daemon’s old clothes. These haven’t been in fashion since we were born.” He clarifies and she nods.

“Yes, Teora said he wore that when he came to court Aunt Laena. Goodmother Alarra and Aunt Rhaenys say most men gain a few stones after marriage, Daemon was no different, I suppose.” She said as she continued doing his hair.

He snorts at her words knowing his sweet sister doesn’t understand that she just called Daemon fat.

She didn’t even understand why Aemma, and everybody had found his toast to be in bad taste.

“Daeron ate as much as me when I was with child both times, Daemon shared Rhaenyra’s morning sickness, I suspect you will too.” Helaena chatters away knowing she has a captive audience.

Marriage had made her very happy; her husband did not care she never lost the baby weight last year and went as far as going to Pentos for fresh fruits.

“How do you know that?” he asks as she put the comb down and brushed his hair with her mother of pearl brush.

“She has not complained about bleeding or cramping or bloating. The two of you do the deed as much as Daeron and me, from what’s she said to me in confidence.” His sister answered with a small sad sigh. “A shame he will be like his namesake.”

“What?” he asks, his voice catching in his throat as he is told their first child is going to die.

“Aemma and I talk, like confidants do. She cannot talk about these things with Baela or Rhaena or even her other ladies, save for the two of us most of them are still unmarried and yes, it is a little uncomfortable to talk about what you two do under the sheets because you’re my brother and I still remember when you used to pick your nose when mama wasn’t looking ---.” Helaena explains in her ramble the wrong part of her answer.

“Not that, Hel, what do you mean the babe will die?” he asks in a whisper.

“Oh, I don’t know. I just know that but no details. Like when I told you that you were going to lose an eye, but I didn’t know it was because you would get into a scrap with the twins and the boys.” she said with a shrug. “I need to study an insect to know more, but Dany doesn’t give me much free time these days.

Maybe he will live to father children or not, I just know his life will not be long. I will tell you when I know more of it.”

He had forgotten Helaena’s dragon dreams, they used to come so often when they were little that they feared mother would let the Faith burn her for witchcraft.

Aegon used to bully her for them too.

Anything that made him feel insecure or had father’s attention would do the trick.

It wasn’t Helaena’s fault that they could spend hours talking about dragons and bugs and fixing his model of Old Valyria because Hel knew how the freehold looked like in truth.

Anymore than it was Aemond’s fault that father believed he was destined for a great and untamable dragon.

And now he was king.

And if Aemma lost, her life depended on having his heir.

An heir that needed to live to succeed him.

“Aemma cannot know about this.”

The last time she wore this much black, her father had died.

Her father had been stabbed in the back repeatedly by his lover and Aemma’s former sworn shield and left to rot in a field near Spicetown.

They had gone down to the fair and he had left them under Daemon’s watchful eye while he took care of some business.

Ser Qarl was to leave for reasons Aemma hadn’t comprehended yet and instead of leaving with his dignity he, he drew his dagger and killed her father out of anger.

They had barely started wearing colors again after Aunt Laena, and then they had to return to wearing mourning black again.

Aemma has run out of black dresses and looks at the ones her mother once wore when she was her age.

She had given them all to her as Baela and Rhaena split Laena’s between them.

The hems had to be let out, some had to be torn apart and redone to accommodate Aemma’s height, but in the end all fit perfectly.

Mother hadn’t liked black all that much when she was a girl, preferred light colors like soft golds and reds and pinks.

Aemma picks out the black dress her mother wore at her mother’s funeral.

It was a simple thing, black honeycomb cotton with a black lacing on the sleeves, a silver coin girdle and metal dragons on the neckline.

It had been cool, the first cool of autumn when they burned her and the heir for a day.

Strange how both women died in autumn.

“Ser Otto has come to present the Dowager Queen’s terms, your grace.” The Lord Commander of her Queensguard, Steffon Darklyn, says as they begin court in the Dragonstone Throne Room.

“Bring him in, Lord Commander. Have bread and salt and water brought in for our guests.” She says knowing Daemon is itching to shorten the former Hand of the King by a head.

“As you wish.” He says before ordering his squire to run that errand for them.

Aemond should be here, and he is standing beside Helaena and Daeron amongst the courtiers.

“I come at the behest of Queen Mother, Alicent Hightower, mother of King Aegon, Second of His Name, Lord and Protector of the Seven Kingdoms.

I’ve been directed to deliver these terms to Princess Aemma Velaryon.” The former hand begins, no longer afforded the power and prestige of his former office and reduced to simply an advisor.

It is laughable how quickly his dreams were shattered by Aegon’s hand.

It must be killing him that a common man born of Dornish servants has his job now.

“Ah, but you see, Ser Otto, Princess Aemma Velaryon is no more. I am Queen Aemma Targaryen now, I have been so since the day my mother and sister died because of your and your daughter’s treachery.

Present your queen’s terms.” Aemma felt nervous, a thrill at being able to say what she wanted to say and know there were no longer any consequences for it.

Power gave you a voice and the tools to carry out the impossible.

No wonder the man before him became addicted to it.

“King Aegon Targaryen, Second of His Name… in his wisdom and desire for peace, is offering terms:

Acknowledge your husband, Aegon, as king and swear obeisance before the Iron Throne.

In exchange, His Grace will confirm you as queen consort and declare any child of your body his heir.

Prince Jacaerys will be confirmed as the legitimate heir to Driftmark and all the lands and holdings of House Velaryon.

Prince Lucerys will squire for the new Lord Hand; Prince Joffrey will be made page until he is old enough to foster and squire for the king and their present betrothals honored.

Your brothers born to the late Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon will also be given places of high honor at court: Aegon the Younger as the King’s squire, Viserys as his cupbearer.

Finally, the King, in his good grace, will pardon any knight or lord who conspired against his ascent.”

To those who do not know how this places her brothers and stepsisters as hostages at court, these seem perfectly reasonable.

To those who see through this shit they are to be rejected immediately.

“I would rather feed my sons to the dragons than have them carry shields and cups for your drunken, usurper cunt of a king.” Daemon leans on Dark Sister, ready to make a second Vaemond out of the king’s grandfather.

But they are not to break the guest right and even Daemon knows better than to do so.

“We refuse his terms, Ser. You may tell him so.” Aemma speaks calmly and coldly. “I am queen as dictated by King Viserys’ and my lady mother’s will, if it were not enough, my father, the late Ser Laenor was the firstborn son of Prince Aemon’s only heir. Why should I submit to a man with a claim weaker than mine when by right of birth and that of the king’s last will, the Iron Throne belongs to me?”

“Aegon Targaryen sits the Iron Throne.” Ser Otto begins his response, his eyes never betraying the fact that he hates being talked down by a girl old enough to be his grandchild.

“He wears the Conqueror’s crown, wields the Conqueror’s sword, has the Conqueror’s name. He was anointed by the High Septon of the Faith before the eyes of thousands. Every symbol of legitimacy belongs to him.”

“A ruler needs a good head and a true heart. A cock is not essential.” Aemma quotes Queen Alysanne’s famous last words to King Jaehaerys. “My husband only has the third and it is optional, tell me do all those symbols give him a good head and a true heart when he does not possess them?”

“Queen Alicent has not forgotten the love she and your mother held for each other once. No blood need be spilled, so the realm can carry on in peace.

Queen Alicent eagerly awaits your answer, your highness.” Otto finished his piece and reminded her they would never see her reign as legitimate.

“Tell the king these are my terms:

The first that he recognizes me as Queen Regnant by honoring his late father’s will, the second that all those executed by him be given over to the Silent Sisters and returned to their families, and third, the heads or tongues of those who decided the King’s Will would not be honored as it is dictated by every law in the Seven Kingdoms.

Those who choose to live may join the Night’s Watch or the Faith. I hear silent orders are known for their virtue.”

None of these terms will be agreed to. Aegon would have folded without a second thought, but he is only a king in name.

And sure, Criston Cole was an iron fist, but he has not been taught to govern like a lord or a king and in her case, a queen.

War was inevitable, that had been decided the moment Ser Otto chose to whore out his five- and ten-year-old daughter to the king.

“You may leave this moment and arrive at the Red King before the King has his supper and leaves to visit his favorite brothel.”

[juliette-bishop]

The bliss of the stressless is so heavenly

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