#and a funny and sweet uncle to the second

[raventrigonsdaughter]

This new witcher season gotta be my favorite so far... that being said as much as i loved every single character development i will still be trowing hands with any bastard that keeps trying to insert Jaskier in a dynamic where he does NOT belong

[fayes-fics]

Eden

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: Seeing you with other Bridgerton offspring has an interesting effect on your new husband...

I couldn't resist using a Season 3 gif cos hello.

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, breeding kink, dirty talk, mutual masturbation, vaginal sex, creampie, ie filthy babymaking. Also, the smut is bookended by fluff; yeah, that probably needs a warning, lol.

Word Count: 4.2k

Authors Note: This is a very belated request fill for @victoriaholland (HERE) and Anon (HERE) about Benedict with a touch of baby fever. I decided to combine the asks as I saw a way to weave them together. Sorry for the delay, but well at least babymaking seems appropriate for spring hehe. Thank you to @colettebronte for being an awesome beta, as always. Err, Enjoy! <3

Daphne’s latest child is beautiful; you delight in his joy as he bounces on your lap, learning the strength of his sweetly chubby legs, little fists wrapped tight around your fingers. 

Looking up, you catch your husband's eye from afar, his stare intense across the gardens of Bridgerton House as you sit under a tented shelter upon a picnic blanket. The rest of the family are scattered around, playing games or chatting, but you are quite content minding the little one while his nanny takes a few moments to eat lunch.

“Is everything alright, my love?” You inquire as Benedict draws closer. 

“Yes… I….” He seems a little flustered. 

“Are you sure?” 

You pull a funny face for the infant, who breaks out into the most adorable infectious giggles that has you grinning from ear to ear and hugging him into your body, swaying with him. 

“Are you alright? Minding the child?” He checks, his voice a touch odd.

“Oh yes. We are more than happy, are we not, my little prince?” You talk in a vaguely silly baby-talk voice, addressing the child in your arms as much as Benedict. 

Again, the child peals with delighted noises and spit bubbles enthusiastically, looking up at Benedict eagerly as much as you do.

“Well, that is wonderful news,” he blusters, and you could swear he is out of sorts, breathless almost. “I shall… leave you to it,” he adds, giving you a bow and then withdrawing as the little one wiggles out of your arms.

“Ignore your Uncle Benedict; he is being a silly billy,” you whisper conspiratorially once the man in question is out of earshot.

The response is babbled nonsense as the child bashes one wooden brick against another.

“I quite agree,” you state sagely before breaking into a goofy grin.

——

“Please?” Hyacinth wheedles.

“No, Hy,” you sigh without even looking up.

“Ugh, you are no fun!” she scowls, crossing her arms defiantly.

“What is all this?” Anthony clips as he strides into the drawing room, Benedict on his heels, as Hyacinth flounces dramatically across the room. 

“Your little sister is angry at me because I will not allow her to drink the punch; it has brandy in it,” you explain cooly.

“Quite right, too!” Anthony chimes as Hyacinth rolls her eyes.

“Listen to y/n, Hyacinth, and do as she says,” Anthony lectures, and you feel grateful for his support, effectively neutering her rebellion. “Despite a temporary lapse of judgment when choosing a spouse, she is otherwise one of the most sensible people in this family.”

“Hey…!” Benedict protests.

“Please…” Anthony withers, twisting towards him. “Brother, if there is one thing us Bridgerton men know how to do, ‘tis to marry a woman entirely too good for us. And well done on that, by the way.”

You smirk at Anthony’s hilarious way of putting his brother - your husband - in his place, catching Kate’s eye with a wink as she enters the room carrying her baby. 

“Y/n, come and meet the future Viscount; he’s awake at last,” she calls to you. 

You are immediately on your feet and grinning, taking the tiny bundle from her arms and cooing at the sweet little boy. The baby opens his enormous brown eyes and observes you for a second before breaking into a one-toothed grin and happily waving his fists at you.

“Oh, he really likes you!” Kate enthuses, delighted.

“As I do you, little one,” you smile, leaning over to kiss his forehead.

You look up to see Benedict with that same look on his face as earlier. A tempest, almost an energy over his being. It’s almost as if he is… aroused?! Which is most odd.

As you hand the baby back to Kate, giving him one final kiss, Benedict is suddenly by your side. Announcing to the family that there has been a change of plan and, regrettably, you will not be able to stay for dinner, his arm an insistent tug around your waist.

——

“Why did we not stay for family dinner as originally planned, my love?” 

Your question is soft, only just audible over the noise of the carriage as you trundle over the cobbled streets of Mayfair a few minutes later. 

“I decided that we should perhaps dine at ours this evening…” his voice adopting that deeper edge which always causes butterflies in your tummy. His hand lands on your knee, a heavy weight that feels portentous. He slides closer on the bench seat.

“Why might that be?” your ask turns breathy, entirely without you meaning it to.

“I want to be alone with you,” he murmurs, unmistakably pitched to arouse. 

The carriage seems to notch up a few degrees as the rocking motion presses your side rhythmically into his. The sound of the wheels and hooves is so loud. He twists to wrap an arm around your shoulder and pulls your back against his flank. 

“All day today, I have watched you,” he rumbles, hand warming the skin around your clavicle, fingertip brushing in circles. “You are so very good with children, darling. Seeing you so naturally with the babies and how you handled Hyacinth… you would be the perfect mother.”

You blush a little at his praise. “Thank you, my love. I would like children one day. Your children. Imagine a child with your eyes. They would be quite the most beautiful,” you sigh wistfully, leaning back into him, his hand feeling heavier on your skin.

Benedict chuckles modestly. “And what of your beauty? Would a child version of you not be the most fetching?”

You giggle and turn your head sideways to nuzzle against his jaw. “I think we would indeed make beautiful babies together, Benedict.”

“I agree,” his voice a tempting lilt, fingers skating downwards over the swell of your breast now, slipping inside the fabric and making you gasp as he tweaks your nipple. “And I think we should start as soon as we get home.”

“Did seeing me with babies suddenly make you want your own, Mr Bridgerton?” Your hand flexes on his knee as he toys with your breast.

“Oh yes darling, it made me want to take you right there…” he asserts, finally admitting those looks he gave you were indeed pure arousal.

You reach up and run your hand into his hair, fingers flexing on his warm scalp as you pull his face to yours.  “And suddenly, it appears I am no longer hungry for dinner…” you whisper flirtatiously, your cupid's bow brushing his stubbled upper lip.

He groans, and his passionate kiss is plundering, a tingle running over your limbs, just as your carriage comes to a shuddering stop outside your townhome. 

Uncaring of the neighbourhood or any prying eyes, Benedict sweeps you out of the carriage in his arms, carrying you bridal style over the pavement and through your front door.

“My wife and I are not to be disturbed,” he announces crisply and loudly to the staff as you enter the hallway.

Leaving no room for doubt about his plans by pulling you into a searing kiss for all to see before ascending the stairs rapidly. He practically growls as he kicks open the door to your master bedroom door and slams it shut again with his foot. 

“Benedict…” you stammer, heart pounding at how overwrought he is. 

You have never seen him like this. Commanding, crackling with an energy that has your body simmering. He is usually so sweet, affable, and kind. Every time you have been intimate since your wedding night a few weeks ago, he has been a complete gentleman: loving and so very tender. The grip he has had on you tonight feels different. This is something primal—like a switch has been flipped at a basal level in his being.

He places you down onto your feet before the roaring fire, his face intense.

“Wife…” The way he says it makes you feel a flush creep over your skin.

“Husband…” you respond in kind, belly fluttering with excitement.

“Take off your dress,” he orders, his dilated pupils shining in the firelight.

This is new. Usually, he is the one to remove it slowly and softly from your body. 

“I cannot, the buttons…” you confess, signalling behind you. You would need your ladies' maid to unhook them from between your shoulder blades.  

He moves closer, seeming so much taller; his ragged breaths dance in the tendrils of your hair as he reaches around behind your shoulders. With a rough tug that makes you startle, he tears the fabric asunder, the sound of tiny pearl buttons skittering across the polished wooden floor behind you as you gasp in surprise.

“There…” he smirks dangerously, “problem resolved.”

You are speechless as he withdraws a pace, looking at you expectantly. You follow his order, a slight quake in your hands as you push the frayed dress down your body, still a little shocked by his strength. Then you reach for the crisscross lacing of your stays, feeling the weight of his stare as each loop relents, his eyes hungry, his body heaving with deep breaths his fitted jacket taut with each inhale. You peel the item away, leaving just your thin white cotton chemise.

“Rip it too,” you plead before you realise it, enthralled by this assertive demeanour.

With a noise in the back of his throat, he takes a pace forward again, and you stare up at him, enchanted. He grasps the fabric above your breasts and then rips it loudly from your chest all the way to your ankles, the sound echoing up the walls. Again, his strength has your knees weak. As the torn pieces flutter from your body, you want to bathe in the hungry sound he makes as he realises you are clad only in white knee-high silk stockings, no underwear to be seen, the warmth from the fireplace swirling around your intimate area. 

As you stand almost naked before your imposing husband, him still fully dressed, there is a knot low in your gut. But it’s not fear; it’s something else entirely—desire. Trembling, breathless and wanting. An elemental wish to be thoroughly taken.

He steps forward, eyes glittering, and his fingers plough roughly between your legs, making you gasp.

“Eden,” he proclaims, his fingers snagging over your swollen pearl of a clit with almost rough strokes, the callous where he holds his paintbrush abrading your folds. “A wonderful, lush, wet garden. Just waiting to be planted.”  His words are hypnotic and low, questing fingers being coated with a dewiness that is entirely of his making.

“Please…” you whimper, squirming on his touch, captivated by this version of your husband, wanting to submit to him, a burning need low in your belly. His fingers slide faster, making a lewd, wet noise. 

“Are you going to let me?” Benedict croons. “Plant my seed inside you?”

Until now, he has always been careful to complete outside your body. A slightly bereft feeling every time - the wonderful moment cut short as he leaves you suddenly empty, a warm splash upon your thighs, tummy or spine. The idea he will stay inside you is alluring in a way you don’t fully comprehend.

“Yes, please, husband,” your nipples puckering almost painfully against the wool of his lapels as he crowds into you. 

“Good. Get on that bed right now,” Benedict orders roughly, pointing at your four-poster bed as he tugs off his jacket.

You scramble to obey. Feeling under a spell. Being naked save your stockings feels illicit as you lay back into the soft pillows and watch as he undresses, staring you down the whole time. 

You slide a hand between your legs instinctively as more of his toned body is revealed. He growls at the sight, you biting your lip and watching him, his torso bare, his trousers clinging to his shapely legs, to his swollen cock. He bends to remove his shoes, and the sight of his broad shoulders flexing is enough to make you moan. As he stands back up and hooks his elegant fingers around the trouser buttons, a smug look on his handsome face that he is doing this to you.

“Husband…” you call out to him, writhing on your fingers shamelessly now, one hand shooting up to brace your movements against the headboard, flushing warm down to your toes.

With a few dextrous flicks, the buttons relent, and his trousers drop to the floor. His naked body is always a delicious sight, but tonight feels more, every sense heightened, moaning again as he takes a step towards you, thigh muscles flexing, his cock standing proud to attention.

Again, a soft plea falls from your lips, your eyes raking every plain of his tempting form, feeling yourself swell under your fingertips.

“Not yet,” he clucks, the arrogance somehow more beguiling as you bite your lip. “I think I want to watch you come, my darling. All by yourself. I hear female pleasure can aid with conception after all.”

“Will you not touch me?” you petition, reaching your other hand imploringly towards him.

“No darling, I shall watch,” his lopsided grin deadly. 

He wraps a strong fist around his own cock, pumping slowly, a bead of moisture gathering at his tip, glistening in the candlelight as he does. 

“Now, use both hands, please. Place your fingers inside yourself,” Benedict instructs as you blindly follow, a languid buzz in your brain—you would do anything he told you to right now.

Planting your feet squarely on the bed, you drag your ankles up higher towards your bottom, letting your legs fall open wider to give him a better view as your other hand slides down. You plunge two fingers into yourself, your hips canting off the mattress with a staccato breath at the sensation of yourself, so hot and tight.

“That's right,” he endorses, a leisurely movement of his hand up and down his cock as he watches you from a few feet away. “‘Feel yourself, darling. Tis paradise, is it not?” that trademark rumbling voice skittering over your skin, goosebumps raising down your arms just at the tone. 

“Come closer,” you appeal breathily, wanting to smell him, feel his heat, his flesh—anything.

He shakes his head, smirking wider as his refusal spurs you on, desperate to come. Mewling as your fingers speed up, one circling your clit, the others buried as far as you can, wishing instead it were his long, graceful fingers reaching places you are unable. Watching him squeeze his own cock hurtles you fast, already aroused from the moment he slid a hand into your dress in the carriage. 

Unable to fight the tide in your body, you screw your eyes shut and call out his name as your pussy starts to convulse around your own fingers, toes curling into the sheet, your muscles all going stiff, your hips again raised as you feel the tide break. A gush of wetness runs down your palm and your bottom cheeks as your mind floats away. Distantly, you can hear him speaking, but it’s fuzzy as you flop back down, sated, your legs going flat, too shaky to balance.

You startle as a warm hand circles the wrist of your fingers still inside yourself, bringing you abruptly back into the room. Benedict looms over you, his chest heaving, that power still there.

“What was that?” your query drowsy, lips dry.

He chuckles richly. “I said that was spectacular,” he repeats, bemused. “But also that I want you to paint your nipples with your arousal, my love, for me,” he commands, tugging your hand so your fingers slide out of yourself.

You do as bidden, still floating down from the high, smearing your own warm juices onto your puffed areolas.

“Perfect..” he intones.

In one swift, athletic move, he mounts the bed. You cry out as his warm mouth encloses your left nipple, groaning lewdly as he licks you clean of your arousal, his tongue a heavy, warm, wet weight curling around your sensitive bud, his lips tugging gently, reawakening those synapses only just recovering from your orgasm. 

“Why do you always taste like heaven?” his dusky question is rhetorical, his breath gusting over your sternum as he swaps to your other breast to meter out the same treatment. He has you moving under him again as he settles his body over you more firmly, your hips tilting up to feel his hard cock graze your inner thigh. “I wonder if you will still taste like heaven when you are heavy with my child?” he hums thoughtfully as he teases your nipple with the tip of his nose, one hand cupping your empty belly. “I dare say even moreso, ripe like a vine, bearing fruit…” That sonorous voice teases over your skin as he moves slowly upwards to nuzzle your neck. “My fruit….” he adds, possessive as he sucks your earlobe into his mouth, so loud now right by your ear.

His hands wind around your thighs as he shuffles position so he is kneeling between your legs, his ropey thighs spread wide under yours…

“Are you ready for that, my love?” he pauses until you nod almost imperceptibly; you squeak as he suddenly hauls you down the bed, hips onto his lap, your pelvis now higher than your head upon the sheets. Your stockings unfurling down your legs where he quickly plucks at the ribbons holding them aloft.

“Good, because I am more than ready for you,” it almost sounds like a warning.

Then, with a solid thrust, he spears into your body, the invasion toe-curling, your fingers grasping his muscular forearms that are clamped around your waist. It is a primal position, and he begins to thrust with no mercy, his cock feeling huge and heavy, a strong weight that drags heavily over your walls as your pussy clings to him. Your eyes flutter closed as you whimper his name, powerless to do anything but take his thrusts, draped across his lap as you are.

“Look at me,” he demands raggedly. And you do, his handsome face contorted with effort as he slams into you, a little bead of sweat forming on his brow. “Look at me while I fuck a baby into you, wife.”

He’s never spoken to you like this before, clipped, harsh. It seems appropriate that he would be almost desperate in an act so elemental, so of the earth—to create life. Stoking a fire deep in your core that is a clarion call for him, a frisson running over your skin at the idea you are being impregnated. Bred.

You know neither of you will last long with this almost frenzied coupling, the tendrils of your arousal already swirling so soon after your last, his near-brutish handling precisely what you need, your swollen pearl slammed into his flat abdomen with every stroke he takes. The sheets roll under your shoulder blades as he keeps the same position, your hips high, a mounting that you cannot and do not want to escape, knowing he is leaving fingertip bruises around the dip of your waist, marks you will carry secretly with pride just for him.

You moan his name, so close again to that ephemeral bliss, thrashing your head from side to side as if willing the pleasure to break and wash over you.

“Come on, come for me, milk me, darling. Take what you need, take my seed,” his voice a deep wrecked purr, the lines of his body tense, craving release as much as you.

That command is what breaks the dam for you, an almost violent ricochet fanning out from where you clench around him, his cries muffled behind the rushing noise in your ears, every part of you convulsing in a pleasurable wave. And then, in a floating haze, for the very first time, you feel your husband come inside you, a warm bloom that coats your walls. It's an intoxicating feeling; you never want him to come anywhere else ever again.

“That's it, well done, my love,” he croons, eyes still shut as he shudders with little aftershocks, not leaving your body—as if he wants to stay inside you always.

——

As the embers in the fireplace glow white, you lay in post-coital bliss, bodies dewy from exertion. Benedict rests his head upon your stomach as you card your fingers leisurely through his hair.

“Do you believe we may have made a baby, darling?” he hums, pressing his ear to your belly button as if listening for a heartbeat.

“I am certain of it, husband; you were so very thorough with your attentions,” you assure as he takes your hand in his, lacing your fingers together. “I hope our baby has your face,” you opine.

“Even if it is a girl?!”

“Thou art as pretty as thou art handsome, Mr Bridgerton,” you quip.

He laughs, carefree, crawling behind you and pulling you into a spooned embrace. “Be careful with such provocation, wife; I may not be done with you after all,” he jests idly. “I, on the other hand, hope our child looks like you, even if it is a boy.” he posits, crowding into your back, his lips warm on the shell of your ear.

“Why?” you laugh, frowning, twisting to look back at him.

“So that I may love them as much as I do you,” he breezes nonchalantly as if what he says is not the sweetest thing you can imagine, causing a tart, sudden spike of want through your body, even as you lay sated.

“Be careful, husband,” you volley back, coquettish. “Or I may not yet be done with you.”

There is a sharp, approving intake of breath, and his hand slides low from your belly into the thatch of hair at the apex of your thighs.

“Is that a promise” he rumbles, your gasp loud as his fingers expertly drag against your clit.

“It is whatever you want. Just do not stop,” you rush out, your hand curling around his bicep, feeling a rigid mass slide hot against your bottom. “Again, husband,” you appeal breathily. “Impregnate me again.”

“With pleasure, wife,” he growls, surging into your body with a force that again steals the very breath from your lungs.

The pinkish light dawn is streaking over the ceiling above when you both finally succumb to sleep after many more vigorous attempts at babymaking. The last one, perhaps the most desperate, you pinned against the headboard, him fucking into you so hard from behind that a jagged crack appears, spidering up the wall from where the bedframe slammed into it. A flaw which he steadfastly refuses to get fixed, claiming it to be the most profound art—a souvenir and ode to a momentous night.

——

9 months later

Benedict’s lips mash against your sweaty brow as he keeps lauding you with praise, excitement and pride evident in his every word. You flop back onto the bed, exhaustion deep in your bones, your body turned inside out, hurting in a way you have never known.

But it was all worth it.

What feels like only moments later, in your shattered, addled state, the doctor and nurses depart. Your husband perches on the bed next to you, his face a picture of wonderment. Holding not just one but two bundles of joy in the crooks of his arms. One girl, one boy—fraternal twins.

“My love, we have created the most beautiful creatures on all of this earth,” he attests partisanly, his voice profound with emotion, his eyes pinging from one swaddled face to the other as they sleep soundly.

You shoot him a watery but ironic smile. “I suppose, dear husband, that is what happens when you spend a whole night impregnating me. You succeed twice over.”

His brow raises pointedly, his tongue shooting out to pass over his bottom lip. “Are you suggesting next time around, wife, we keep going for three days straight? So that I may have a brood of eight by the time we are done?” Deploying his bedroom voice that he knows full well makes your knees weak.

“Do not say such things in front of the children!” you chide, swatting his knee where it touches your thigh. “And no, I am not carrying six of your progeny at once; that is simply preposterous!”

“Four?” he petitions with a wink.

You roll your eyes affectionately, settling back into the mound of pillows. “A maximum of two at a time is my final offer, Benedict Bridgerton,” you respond drolly.

“Entirely reasonable,” he chuckles contentedly, dropping a kiss onto each of their foreheads before handing both to you so delicately, as if they are the most precious bundles in the world. 

Which to you both, they are.

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[cregansdingdong]

ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀᴛᴇʀ ɪꜱ ꜰɪɴᴇ.

Cregan Stark x pregnant!fem!reader | no use of y/n | warnings: pregnancy fluff, the tooth rotting kind <3

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“There you are.”

There he was. Watching from the threshold of their marriage doors—the only separation between their traditional chambers—Cregan gazes over the form of his bare wife, who was enjoying a nice bath in her alcove. His eyes moved slowly, deliberately, taking her in and committing her to his memory like it was the very first time. A sleepy smile graced her perfect face, head leaned back against the edge of the tub. Just barely breaking the surface of the water was her stomach, rounded and taut with his child; her wrist had been resting on it as he entered, a letter held loosely in her hand. “I am.” He murmured, feeling himself relax just at the sight of her, and he crossed the room to sit on the chair by the tub. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better now. Jace wrote to me.” She holds out the small paper to him. Cregan hums at the mention of her brother, and his eyes scan the words on the page, quietly snorting after a few moments of reading—he was as funny as he always was. Nothing new, really, in the letter. He’d mostly asked about how his sister was faring, questions about the pregnancy, and gushing over his coming nuptials to Baela. But it all brought a smile to his wife’s face anyway. Cregan felt guilty sometimes, knowing how far Winterfell was from King’s Landing. She missed her family often, but even more now that she was having a child. “He’s eager to be an uncle.” He muses, handing it back to her. “The second he learns the babe is born, he’ll be outside our quarters pouting.”

“Yes he will.” She laughs and places it off to the side. “Only a few weeks more.” Cregan peers down at her stomach, expression softened now, his hand reaching out to gently pet her bump, fingers caressing the skin. “The water is almost cold.” He notes, a slight chide in his tone. His wife nods along, obviously aware. “Mmhm. The maesters say hot baths aren’t too good for the baby—warm is fine, but it becomes tepid fairly quickly. I’m comfortable though, I promise. Supper was divine. I was craving that stew all day. And grapes, but mostly the stew. I missed you.” A pleased smile lifts the corners of his lips at her soft ramble. He loved hearing her speak—just as much as she liked to prattle his ears blue. “I assure you, wife, I missed you even more. You and our babe. How is she doing?”

“Are you truly still convinced we're going to have a girl?” She muses. Cregan gently splashes her in mock offense, tutting lightly at her teasing. “I know we're having a girl. I can feel it in my bones, wife.” He leans in, pressing a less-than-chaste kiss against her mouth, tongue just barely slivering past her supple lips. She tasted like something sweet. “Cake?” He asks, head tilted even though it wasn't really a question. She grins. “Sara brought the letter up here—and sneaked me some frosted scones from the kitchen. I love your sister.” Cregan rolls his eyes. “I should've known you two would scheme behind my back…and not leave me any. I'm your leige-Lord.” His wife reaches out to pull him in again, not satisfied with the previous kiss, and their mouths clash together nearly with a mutual clack of their teeth. "Get in." She was pulling him down into the jasmine scented water, hands fiercely tugging at the laces of his leather doublet. "This water is so damn cold—" He barely had a moment to remove his boots. "You'll be fine." What Lady Stark wants, she gets.

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[aemondsbabe]

summary: your uncle catches you sneaking from the keep and decides you need to be punished, but finds a sweet surprise instead

pairing: daemon x niece!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, canon typical incest, infidelity but it's not really mentioned rhaenyra just exists lol, mentions of menstruation, reader is on her period, period kink on daemon's part, blood kink, blood, spanking, mild coercion, oral (f receiving), masturbation (m), slight corruption kink, good cop/bad cop daemon

word count: 4.4k

a/n: this fic is part of a collab with a bunch of my lovely moots! @lady-phasma came to us with an ask about period sex and daemon and, being as lovely as she is, she offered us all the chance to collab on it -- choosing our own characters & how to play the story!

🩸masterlist of everyone's fics here!

all board creds to the lovely @zaldritzosrose ♥️

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

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“Uncle, please!” You plead again, though you know it’s useless; your voice carries in the empty corridors of the Keep, “I promise I won’t do it again! I swear it!” 

Daemon merely grunts in response, his grip on your shoulder tightening while he guides you along. You struggle to keep up with his long strides, his quick pace nearly knocking you over; your heart leaps into your throat when you’re finally tugged to a lurching stop.

“In you get,” he says gruffly, leaving you no room to argue as he ushers you into his study, “You and I have much to discuss, little niece.”

Huffing petulantly, you duck under his arm and slowly make your way into the small chamber. Truthfully, it was normally used as storage for the library but since Daemon and Rhaenyra and their sons had been back in King’s Landing, he had all but commandeered it for himself and had ordered that a writing desk be brought into the room. Glancing around at the various high bookshelves, you wince when he finally pulls the door closed. 

“Now,” he drawls, walking around to stand before you, arms crossed over his broad chest, “Do you want to explain to me exactly why I found you sneaking through the halls at this hour?” His violet eyes bore into yours, making you feel flush under his exacting stare. 

“I was merely going to the kitchens!” You murmur defensively, holding his gaze for only a second longer before glancing away, “I just… I was going to get more of the lemon cakes we had at dinner this evening! I know it’s naughty, but I –”

“No,” he cuts you off, voice low and firm as he narrows his eyes at you, no doubt seeing through your lies with ease. “You were being naughty, sweet niece, I dare say that bit is true,” he smirks, hooking a finger under your chin and forcing your eyes up toward his, “But we both know it wasn’t lemon cakes you were after.”

“I-It was!” You try once more, internally flinching at the way your voice cracks.

“This is a very fine dress for simple lemon cakes, then, isn’t it?” His brows raise knowingly while his other hand comes up to pluck at an embroidered sleeve. 

“Well… well it wouldn’t be proper to be out in my night –”

“So, it’s propriety you’re so concerned with now, is it?” He cuts you off again, smirking wildly as he’s hardly even having to work at cornering you, the sweet little thing that you are, “That’s quite funny, seeing as how it’s also very improper for a young lady, a young princess at that, to be out galavanting around King’s Landing all night…”

You balk at that, lips parting in surprise as your brows furrow. “I wasn’t!” You quickly breathe, voice sounding more like a mousey little squeak, “I would never, uncle! I merely… I o-only got dressed to go to –”

“Come now,” he says slowly, voice low but firm, “This isn’t even the same pretty dress you had on at dinner. If you’re going to lie, at least try and be good at it.”

You open your mouth instinctually, a defensive reply ready on your tongue, though you quickly think better of it and snap your lips shut once more, jaws clenched. Your eyes flit away from him and your heart hammers in your chest; you hate the way you can feel blood rushing to your cheeks as you swallow thickly, fighting against the tightness building at the back of your throat, the stinging behind your eyes. 

“Shh, there’s no need for all that,” he murmurs, swiping a thumb beneath your eye to quickly wipe away an errant tear; your breath catches in your throat at how quickly he can shift from intimidating to doting. 

“Please… please don’t tell my mother,” you whine, switching to bargaining instead, “If she finds out, I won’t be allowed out again until I’m married and Gods know when that might be…”

He chuckles at that, a playful smirk on his lips when he shakes his head. “I won’t tell on you, sweetling,” he all but croons, making you relax somewhat until you see a devious gleam in his eyes, “If you tell me what you were really up to. Because I know damn well it wasn’t lemon cakes.”

Your heart sinks again and you chew at your bottom lip for a moment, nervously wringing your hands. You cannot tell him the truth, you know that much but you hardly trust yourself to speak at all, fearing he’ll work it out of you one way or another.

Daemon’s impatient grumble makes you wince. “I was just… just going to a tavern! Honest!” You rush out, squeaking and stumbling over your words like a nervous mouse, “I merely wanted to go out on my own! Just once!”

He stays silent for a moment, eyes boring into yours and narrowing just slightly, before he sighs heavily and shakes his head. “What in the world were you thinking?” He murmurs, sounding exactly as he does when he scolds little Joffrey, “Do you have any idea what might’ve happened to you?”

“I would’ve been careful!”

“It’s not about what you would’ve done, naive little thing,” he snickers, making your cheeks flush, “Certainly you’re aware that nearly every man in that wretched city would give to –”

“I’m quite aware,” you interject, snapping in annoyance and shuddering at the thought of what he was insinuating. 

“Careful,” your uncle warned, gaze darkening and growing serious once more, “Don’t take that tone with me, I could very well march you right to your mother; you’ll be lucky to be made a septa if she catches wind of this.”

Your jaws clench and you have to fight the urge to scoff, to roll your eyes. “Well, I don’t appreciate you speaking to me like I’m some idiotic child!”

“Oh, aren’t you?” He huffs, taking a step closer to you, “Only an idiotic little fool would venture into King’s Landing in the dead of night to get up to Gods know what with Gods know who!” 

“I told you!” You bite back, trying to keep your voice steady, “We would’ve been –” 

The air feels as if it’s been sucked out of the room by the time you manage to shut yourself up, though it’s already much too late. Daemon’s head tilts to the side curiously, a sinister smirk on his lips once more, the second you squeeze your eyes shut and internally scold yourself for making such an error.

“We?” 

“Aegon,” you admit after a tense moment, knowing there’s hardly any use in drawing it out further.

“Ah, Aegon,” he drawls, chuckling to himself as he nods, “Letting big brother take you on a tour of the city then?”

“Something like that,” your voice is little more than a whisper while you nervously bite at your lip, keeping your eyes downcast.

“My, my,” you can practically feel the smugness radiating off of him as he circles you, arms behind his back, “An unplucked little flower, galavanting around the city, and with a married man, no less.”

Again, you clench your jaw as anger builds within you, grinding your teeth together while you will yourself to just stay quiet. You can’t help but remember a story Aegon had told you once, years before. At the time, you thought it was nothing more than a rumor, just old family gossip compounded by the murmurings of smallfolk. Now, though, just the mere chance that there may be even a sliver of truth to it makes your blood run hot. 

How dare he.

Daemon snickers again, the sound of it makes you clench your fists. “I do wonder what my dearest brother would think of that.”

“Yes, uncle, what would father think?” You snap before you can help yourself, lips set into a tight frown while you peer up at him.

“I said careful –”

“Because he’s heard all of that before, hasn’t he?” You try, heart skipping a beat when his eyes widen just slightly before quickly narrowing again.

“Watch yourself.”

“No!” You scoff, chest heaving with a righteous rage, “You’re no better than me, certainly no better than Aegon – doing the exact same thing to Rhaenyra! You’ve no right to lecture me in this –”

“I married her, that is the difference,” he says lowly, a harshness to his tone you’ve never heard before; he grips your shoulder with one hand, fingers digging almost painfully into your skin, “I made an honest woman of her, something your drunken cunt of a brother cannot ever do.”

“An honest woman,” you scoff, some part of your subconscious is begging you to shut up but you ignore it, “Honest enough to birth three strong boys, isn’t that right uncle?” 

That’s the final nail in your proverbial coffin – echoing Aemond’s words from earlier in the evening, though you suppose you at least had the wherewithal to not ruin dinner. 

“That’s it,” Daemon snaps, violet eyes burning with a fire that would rival that of the Dragonmont, “I really didn’t want to have to do this, princess.”

Your brows furrow for only a second and you’re silently planning an escape route as he presses against your shoulder, assuming that he’s making good on his threats to parade you before your parents. Your cheek is already pressing against the smooth, dark wooden surface of the desk before you register that he was never pushing you toward the door. 

Flustered and disoriented, alarm bells ring in your head as you squirm against the hand on your back, pinning you down. Your eyes widen when you feel him tugging your skirts up, panic flooding through you when you realize what he’s doing.

“Uncle, please!” You plead, bracing your hands against the desk as you attempt to push yourself up to no avail, “I’m sorry, truly! I didn’t mean it!”

“Enough!” Daemon barks, pulling your skirts up over your backside and letting the fabric bunch in against the small of your back, “You need to be taught some manners, little brat.” 

You hardly have time to take in another lungful of air before his hand is cracking down against your rear, making you yelp even as the pain of it is dulled by the thin fabric of your smallclothes. You fight against his hold all the while, grunting and squirming like a rabbit in a trap. 

Unfortunately, he realizes after a moment that this particular method doesn’t seem to be quite enough. A little panicked yell is wrenched from your lips when you feel his fingers hook into the waist of your smallclothes, making an icy chill run down your spine for an altogether different reason than the threat of pain.

“Uncle Daemon, wait!” You beg, shoving an arm behind your back and attempting to bat away his hand, “Y-You can’t, you mustn’t!”

“Come now,” he scoffs, easily pushing your hand away, “It’s only a backside, sweet niece, you think I haven’t seen one before?”

“It’s not tha –”

“And you seemed more than prepared to let dearest Aegon see much more than that, hm?” He drawls, going to tug at the fabric once more.

“I wasn’t!” You try again, desperate to make him understand, “W-We couldn’t have done anything, anyway!”

“Couldn’t have done…?” He questions, brows furrowing as he finally wrenches your smallclothes over the curve of your rear, tugging them unceremoniously down until they hang at your knees. It’s only then that he sees the issue, unable to keep the smirk off of his face as he hears you whine softly against the desk. 

This is what all that fuss was about? He thinks, eyes trailing over the bright red streaks, tacky on your inner thighs, until they settle on the blood soaked linens folded in the gusset of your underwear. 

“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” he sighs, the hand on your back rubbing up and down in a way that would be soothing in any other circumstance. “Now, what were you saying?” He asks casually, like he’s talking to you about the weather and like your arse isn’t out on display. 

“Aegon… Aegon and I couldn’t have done anything anyway,” you try again, praying he’ll take mercy on you, “Because of, well…”

“Because of what? A little blood?”

You merely nod, flushing so badly that your cheeks tingle as blood rushes to them.

“Oh, you sweet little lamb,” he coos, suddenly bringing a hand down against your rear again, smirking when you yelp at the sting, “Do you think men care about getting their swords a little bloody?”

He doesn’t give you a chance to answer as he smacks you again, easily holding you down when you begin struggling once more. Again, his eyes trail over your slit, heart quickening in his chest while he admires the crimson against your skin. Rhaenyra has only let him have her like this a scant few times, the pains that come along with her monthly blood keeping her from arousal and though he has not given into his cravings, he would be a fool to deny them. 

His jaw clenches as he grits his teeth, spanking you yet again, alternating between cheeks, before soothing the sting with gentle caresses and smirking when you shiver at the soft touch. You remind him of her, you always have, though he’s never voiced it. All youthful vigor, filled with an untamed confidence that only naivety can bring, and with a fiery temper to match – more like your half-sister than you knew. 

Perhaps his desires could be managed in… other avenues. 

He brings his hand down once more, relishing the way you squirm and cry, your delicate skin hot beneath his palm. His member stirs, pressing angrily against the ties of his trousers, when he notices a little rivulet of red running down your inner thigh.

“You know,” he starts, petting his hand over your back while you sob, tears leaking onto his desk, “Many men quite enjoy their women this way, sweet niece.”

He smirks when he hears your breath hitch, swears he can hear your heart fluttering like the wings of a little bird in the quiet chambers. 

“Warm, open… slick,” he drawls, taking a second to squeeze at the soft skin at the back of your thigh, the very tip of his thumb just barely running through a little crimson drip. He brings his hand up, marvels at the dark droplet staining his finger for only a second, before flicking it away with his tongue. 

You gasp, having been watching curiously from the corner of your eye as an altogether different kind of heat swarms your veins. You don’t fight his hold any longer, victim to his spell even as your mind wars with itself. 

“I-It’s messy, though…” You try, your voice sounding unconvincing to your own ears; you swallow nervously when he chuckles. 

“Mm, it’s not all that different from any other honeyed hole, sweet niece,” Daemon soothes, putting your worries at ease while he trails a hand over your inner thighs, licking his lips at the way your tacky skin feels against his fingers, “It can be messy, yes, but… some men prefer mess.”

Do you? You wonder, although you already know the answer, legs spreading unconsciously at his touches. A whine slips from your lips when he moves his hand back up, rubbing it over your still sore backside. 

“Still stings?” He asks, one eyebrow raised. He tuts when you nod, soothing you gently, like the sting isn’t his fault, “Lucky for you, I know just the thing for it.”

“What…?” You question, brows furrowing as you attempt to push yourself up from the desk, only to be pushed back down against it – albeit a little gentler this time. 

“You just relax,” he croons, all traces of the anger from before gone; the fires within him extinguished at the thought of finally getting what he’s missed for so long, “Let uncle kiss it better, hm?”

A shiver goes through you at his words and your breath catches in your throat, eyes wide as you feel him move around you, slinking from his place at your side to your back. Fabric rustles behind you and just as you open your mouth to ask what’s going on, a loud gasp tears itself from your throat. 

Daemon kneels on the floor behind you, bent down on one knee, and leans in, pressing a gentle, feather light kiss against one cheek before alternating to the other. His hands grab at your hips, holding you in place, eyes trained on the side of your head drinking in the little flashes of emotion on your face – shock and uncertainty slowly giving way to a cautious curiosity. He could work with that. 

“Feeling better?” He husks, smirking against your soft skin when he sees you nod, hears the little whimper halfway trapped in your throat. He carries on, pearlescent hair tickling the backs of your thighs each time he leans in, kissing your skin. Eventually, his touches begin to linger, hands rubbing over the sides of your thighs while his tongue licks against you every so often. The soft, patient touches soothe you, tamper your worry, and soon enough pleased little sighs and hums begin filling the room, music to his ears. 

Quickly, he pulls at the ties of his trousers, groaning against the curve where your ass and thigh meet when his member springs free, bobbing against his lower belly. Wrapping a hand around himself, he continues – kissing and licking along the backs of your thighs before finally reaching what he most desires.

“U-Uncle!” You gasp, eyes squeezing shut when he licks into the crease of your thigh, the skin there no doubt smeared with the blood you can feel running down your legs every few moments, painting streaks of red down to your knees. 

Your feeble little warble is drowned out by the deep, throaty growl that leaves him – a man dying of thirst finally finding an oasis in the desert. He nudges at your thigh, panting a low, “Good girl,” when you part them more – as much as your smallclothes, still bunched around your knees, will allow. His head spins thinking of how passionate you’ll become with more experience, already so eager.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, spitting into his palm and grunting while he works a hand over his cock, panting as he admires your flowering center for a moment – your little petals shining, crimson staining your skin nearly all the way down to your knees. He feels like a man possessed, drunk and proud as his cock twitches against his palm. 

Another groan rumbles in his chest when he dives in, all thoughts of being gentle and slow thrown to the wayside as he presses his face against you, uncaring as to whether he can fill his lungs or not. 

“Daemon!” You yelp, hands scrambling over the smooth surface of the desk, mind reeling while you try to find something, anything to hold onto. His tongue is unlike anything you’ve ever felt, eons better than the way your own fingers feel pressed against your cunt in the wee hours of the morning. 

Your chest heaves when he groans against you, tongue toying with the stiff little bud at the apex of your slit for a second before he fucks it into you, all but punching whines and moans from your throat. Your cheeks flush at the sound of it, the slick, wet sounds of his tongue working against you almost painfully loud in the small study. 

His hips rut into his hand as he suckles at your pearl, burying his nose into you while deep moans resound in his chest — head clouded at the taste of you, at the slick feel of your blood against his lips, on his tongue. 

Gods, he’s missed this. 

The fire in his belly builds steadily while he takes what he needs from you, the little throbs your cunt gives around his tongue only serving to push him further and further toward the end. 

“Seven Hells, you taste divine,” he growls, rubbing his thumb over the head of his cock, his other hand tugging an arse cheek to the side, opening you more for him before skimming his fingers over your taut bud, smirking at the way your core clenches. 

“Please, please,” you pant, hips canting against the edge of the desk, breath foggy against the dark wood.

“Don’t worry, sweetling,” he murmurs, licking your taste from his lips, “I’m not done with you yet.” 

Your knees nearly buckle when he licks you again, laving his tongue over the entirety of you – lapping from your pearl almost all the way up to your other hole, the thought of such a thing stealing the air from your lungs. Your mind reels as he suckles at you, core aching from how tightly the knot in your tummy is wound. 

Daemon growls against you, the rhythm of his hand stuttering the closer he gets, stones pulling tight as he nears his end. He can tell you’re close as well from the way you press back against him, rutting on his tongue while breathy little moans tumble, unbidden, from your lips. 

The thought of your wet cunt clenching around his tongue causes his length to pulse again, causes it to leak against his fingers. Gods, he needs that. 

“Ah!” You pant when he redoubles his efforts and presses his tongue as far into you as he can, groan rumbling against you as he nuzzles into your folds, savoring the sweet coppery taste on his tongue. 

He feasts then, hand striping up and down his cock with abandon while he fucks his tongue into you, curling it and pressing it against as much of you as he can while his chin presses against your pearl, pulling loud cries from you. 

“U-Uncle, uncle, I… Gods, Daemon, I’m…” you stutter, words dying on your lips as pleasure threatens to white out your mind. You pant, breathlessly rocking against his face while your body tenses, instinctively preparing for the incoming onslaught. 

He grunts into you, fucking into his fist while his other hand squeezes at your arse. His eyes roll back in his head when he feels you tighten on his tongue, your walls finally beginning to suck at him in earnest. Just as his stones tighten to the point of no return, he smacks his hand against your rear once more, groaning victoriously as the dam finally breaks. 

“Fuck!” You shout, muscles tensing and falling limp all in the same breath as your high slams into you, rough and unforgiving — heightened by your menstrual flux. You can hear Daemon grunting and growling behind you, your cunt pulsing on his tongue. 

Below you, he feels as if he’s ascended to the clouds, stomach lurching like it does when Caraxes takes flight. He groans, long and loud, against you, into you, as his cock throbs, spend splashing down against his trousers, dripping to the floor. 

“O-Oh!” You breathe, hips twitching as he licks over you for a moment more, taking all he can. Your little tired cries make him chuckle as his touches border on overstimulation. He finally takes mercy on you and pulls away with a satisfied sigh, tucking his member back into his trousers as he stands, grunting at the soreness of his knee. 

There’s a heady fondness in his eyes as he lets them trail over you, watching as you catch your breath, limp. “Feel okay?” He asks, petting a hand down your spine before bending to press a sweet kiss against the back of your shoulder. 

You nod, your cheek slick against the desk while you finally start coming back to yourself. “Gods,” you sigh tiredly, blinking the fog from your eyes. 

Daemon chuckles at that, his normally mouthy niece reduced to little sighs. He pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and walks to a small mirror on the wall, well really an old, polished placard, but it’ll do. 

His eyes widen when he catches sight of himself, features distorted somewhat in the reflective golden surface, but clear enough to see the blood left on his skin. A smirk grows on his lips and he lets himself admire it for a second, mind flashing back to the aftermath of his victory against the Crabfeeder, before he begins wiping at his skin. 

From the corner of his eye, he sees you beginning to stir, arms shaking as you push yourself up from the desk. He stares at his reflection for a moment, jaw clenching as his heart pangs feebly. 

With a sigh, he walks the few steps over to you and steadies you, pressing a hand to your back. “Careful,” he warns, playful glint in his eyes while he guides you to the spare chair against the wall and coaxes you to sit, not caring if the fabric gets stained, “You’ll give me a complex.” 

Your lips quirk into a smile at that and you chuckle, eyes widening when you finally get a good look at him. “Ohh…” you balk, not expecting to see blood, your blood, trailing down his chin, painting him like a satiated lion, “I’m… I’m sorry…” You murmur, not knowing what else to say. 

“Why?” He chuckles, affectionately carding his fingers through your hair as he blindly wipes at his face a little more, “Did you not enjoy it?” 

“I did…” you admit softly, bashful before him now. Strength seems to find you again and you bend forward to pull up your smallclothes, only to stop yourself when Daemon leans down to do it himself. 

“Then there’s no reason to be sorry,” he says with a sigh, pulling your smallclothes back into place and letting you adjust them to your fancy, “Blood can be wiped away, sweetling.” 

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier too,” you murmur, wringing your hands while the two of you stand together. You watch as he busies himself with righting his clothes, making sure his trousers are tied well and smoothing out his tunic. You can’t help thinking that he looks handsome like this, finally seeing him how Rhaenyra might. 

Nervously, you pull at your skirts, smoothing them out and fidgeting with your bodice. You look up when he clears his throat, surprised to be met with a smile. 

“As I said,” he placed a hand on your shoulder, gentle this time, “Blood can be wiped away, sweet girl.”

thank you for taking the time to read! hope you enjoyed! :)

check out the rest of the pieces in this collab here!

consider adding yourself to my tag list or check out my works on ao3!

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Okay but can we just imagine for a second a fic with Eddie and he wants revenge on Jason so bad that he targets Jason's sister/best friend (can be any one of these) to do it.

Eddie has had enough of Jason and his followers bullying Hellfire, so he decides to fight fire with fire and go after one of the people Jason cares about the most.

Maybe he pays you a bit more attention in classes, shows a softer side of himself that others don't get to see. Makes a point to talk to you whenever he sees you and compliments you.

He assumes you'll be just like Jason but that's his first mistake. You're nothing like Jason, you don't belittle his interests or act like an asshole. You're just you... Someone sweet and funny who Eddie finds himself looking forward to seeing every day.

His second mistake is not realising the guilt he would feel for assuming shit about you in the first place, for thinking that he could be so callous to toy with you and then break your heart.

That isn't him. It isn't Eddie. He's not his shitty father, he was raised by Uncle Wayne to be a gentleman and he let himself get carried away with petty thoughts of getting one over on Jason.

He third mistake( though is it even a mistake when you're so amazing?) is falling for you, that's when he realises he's truly fucked.

❤️

[pumpkinfyre]

The Realms Pearl

note: just a ramble on how I think the yandere! hotd cast would be with a darling who is daeron's twin sister ♡

warnings: yandere content, platonic and romantic relationships, darling is religious like her mommy, incest mentioned, aegon and helaena have the hots for their sister, lol, this is based on my oc daenys but is a reader insert for inclusiveness, spoilers for s2

Viserys and Alicent are very similar in the way they treat her. In the books, we know that Viserys was very close with both of his daughters. He was a girl dad! He adores his youngest daughter, and she often reminds him of how Rhaenyra was when she was a child. He spends long hours in (Name)'s company, letting her read to him as he fiddles with his duplicate of Old Valyria. Once he gets much sicker, close to his death, she'll remain by her father's bedside, speaking of old stories.

Alicent, on the other hand, is fiercely protective of her youngest daughter. She adores both Helaena and (Name), so she keeps them both close to her. Daeron is sent away to Oldtown at a very young age, but Alicent chooses to keep her daughter in Kings Landing. Having her sweet girl sent away would destroy Alicent. As the youngest of her children, (Name) is kept safely away and rarely makes public appearances in court. It's her parents' way of making sure that she isn't corrupted by the politics of Kings Landing.

Her two older brothers, Aegon and Aemond, are tasked with keeping an eye on her when Alicent has things to attend to. Aegon is the more fun brother, always helping his little sister to sneak in the kitchens to steal a piece of cake. He's especially funny, never failing to make (Name) laugh. As they all grow older and mature, Aegon becomes very dependent on his sister. His relationship with their mother is strained, and after being married to Helaena, he feels isolated and odd. Aegon turns to his youngest sister for comfort and companionship. His feelings for her perhaps go deeper than a sibling bond, but it never goes farther than that. Aemond is similar, but he's more of a stick-in-the-mud. He's less inclined to give in to games, like his elder brother. He absolutely adores his baby sister, of course, but he focuses more on her protection than her happiness. Once the Dance begins, she's locked in the Keep and not allowed to mount her dragon, Grey Ghost. Aemond takes on the role as her protector, and in doing so, he is less kind.

Helaena is the closest with her sister. Helaena is the second oldest of Alicent’s children, and as such, (Name) often goes to her older sister for advice. Once the twins are born, (Name) spends even more time with Helaena, as she absolutely adores her niece and nephew. Jaehaerys and Jaehaera are always with her if they're not with their mother. Helaena loves her sister. I think her feelings would be similar to those of Daemon and how he felt about Viserys. Helaena sometimes wishes that she were born a man, so their mother would allow she and (Name) to marry each other. Helaena daydreams about living a quiet and peaceful life with (Name), and even after the death of Jaehaerys, she keeps her sister very close, fearing that someone will kill her darling.

(Name)'s twin brother, Daeron, sends her letters from Oldtown on a constant basis. While they were separated when they were very young, she sometimes travels to Oldtown on Grey Ghost to visit her brother and uncle Gwayne. The letters often consist of how Tessarion is growing and how he wishes they could be together. Gwayne tries to convince Alicent to let his niece stay in Oldtown for the benefit of Daeron. Gwayne and Daeron plan to move (Name) to their home once the war is over.

Kings Landing obviously isn't safe!

this is such a ramble, but my mind is reeling from s2

(　:ﾟ皿ﾟ)

who else is super excited for daeron and tessarion ♡♡♡

[esmedelacroix]

Gorgeous

when miguel o'hara has a fat crush on f!reader but thinks he's out of her league⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

cw: just some tooth-rotting heart-warming fluffy sweetness, low-key a bit of angst and low self-esteem

a/n: Hey lovies, this story is inspired by "Gorgeous" by Taylor Swift. This is the first time I've ever written something like this, hope you like !🐰🫧

wc: 2.4k

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚

Ever since you had arrived at the spider society there was this unspoken attraction that drew anyone in. It was the way you treated everyone around you with kindness. You were genuine, funny, and not to mention drop-dead gorgeous.

It didn't help that you picked things up so quickly that you were on all of his missions. It's not like he arranged for them to be like that or anything. You were so eager for his approval and were so efficient. When Miguel geeked out about the scientific reasons why certain things affected the multiverse and Hobie would mimic a yawn, he would turn to you and you were always listening intently.

Parties were often held on the roof in celebration of all the different spider people's birthdays. Today's party was Peter Porker's birthday celebration. Everyone was chatting it up, sipping their cocktails, and eating the rather brutal horderves of 'pigs in a blanket'(one of them was probably another one of his uncles).

You were sitting with Miguel, Peter B, and Gwen with Mayday in your lap trying to take a sip of your drink. Miguel was glad to see everyone having fun and letting loose so he decided to have a few extra drinks himself.

�� 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝚑𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑖𝑡 𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑖𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡, 𝑡𝚑𝑎𝑡 I 𝑔𝑜𝑡 𝑑𝑟𝑢𝑛𝑘 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑓𝑢𝑛 𝑜𝑓 𝑡𝚑𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑘 ♪

You and your group were all talking about the most random things. You were feeling a bit tipsy and started dragging out your words and slurring them. You talked like what many of your friends called a 'valley girl voice' when you were drunk.

While you were explaining to Gwen and Miguel about the time when you got so drunk you swung into a birthday cake. It was a good thing it was an eight-year-old's Spiderwoman-themed birthday party. You may or may not have been the reason for the Spider Society's "Don't drink and swing" Campaign.

You continued blabbing off and you couldn’t figure out why Miguel was laughing at what you were saying when you weren't even trying to be humorous. "What's so funny?" you asked.

"You've said 'like' 80 times in 10 minutes," he said, fascinated with your complete change in speech when you were drunk.

"So, what?" you said hiccupping between each word.

Does he think I'm weird like everyone else does? You asked yourself.

Does she know how cute she is? He asked himself as he simply shook his head and helped you leave after having too much to drink.

He put you on your bed in your dorm and helped move your hair out of the way wishing you a good night. He knew you couldn't hear him but he couldn't help but say, "You even look beautiful when you sleep, are you even real?"

♪ 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝚑𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑡𝚑𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑡𝚑𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒, 𝑜𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑚𝑎𝑔𝑛𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑐 𝑓𝑖𝑒𝑙𝑑 𝑏𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑡𝑜𝑜 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑔 ♪

There were never days when Miguel could be spotted eating in the cafeteria. Until you came around. He was a little shy to sit with you at first until you noticed that he was constantly sitting alone so you sat with him.

You had a certain sad feeling when seeing people eat alone and you would hate to eat alone yourself. The first day you sat with Miguel, the two of you sat in silence as you ate. The second time you both began to warm up to each other and others would even join you.

He wasn't a fan of this because he looked forward to speaking to you alone and getting to know you. But, you had this way about you where you just made people want to be around you. You had an allure that pulled people in and Miguel found himself being one of those people.

But he hoped and prayed he wasn't just 'one of those people' to you. He hoped you were as interested in him as he was in you. But he didn't have your charm, he thought himself to be a bit boring. He didn't have that pearly white contagious smile. He didn't smile often at all, unless he was thinking about you, a joke you made, a compliment you gave him, or the way your hand brushed his hand when you both reached for the same pear in the line for lunch.

Pulling people in with your wit and your naturally gorgeous looks, you also attracted men that liked you too. He hated that other people couldn't see how much he liked you. He hated that you possibly wouldn't choose him in a room full of people.

Jealousy wasn't a feeling he experienced very often. But it consumed him when other people tried to hit on you. It was taking a real toll on him how different he acted when it came to you. He started looking forward to lunch with you although he had to scare some people off to be alone with you.

♪ 𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝑠𝑜 𝑔𝑜𝑟𝑔𝑒𝑜𝑢𝑠, 𝑖 𝑐𝑎𝑛'𝑡 𝑠𝑎𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑡𝚑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑒, '𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑒 ♪

It was a slow lazy day at the Spider Society so you went back to your universe. Miguel was lazing around in his little lair doing anything to distract him from opening his files of his daughter and falling back into his hole of despair.

Miguel spontaneously pinged your watch asking what you were up to. He never used them to communicate anything but missions and you knew that, so you found it rather cute that he was using his watch to ask you about your day.

[I'm just chilling at home, super bored] you replied.

[Well maybe I should come visit you] he suggested.

[That would be great] you replied, turning off your watch and sighing while squealing and kicking your feet on your couch in celebration. In minutes Miguel was outside of your balcony tapping on the screen door to garner your attention.

You looked up from the snacks you were preparing for the two of you. You scurried to the door and opened it moving the screen giving Miguel a good look at you. Your hair was in an updo but wisps of it stuck to your neck that was glistening with sweat and framed your face.

He forgot how hot it was in your universe and wished that he had worn something lighter. You took notice and offered him some shorts and a T-shirt. He could barely get the words out because he was too busy noticing everything about you.

The way your beautiful skin glowed with the sunlight hitting your face. The way the sweat on your body added to your usual glow and your soft glossed lips. The way your smile lines became more prominent when you spoke to him.

Indicative that you were a truly smiley person, who loved to tell jokes and laugh. "Did you want to say something?" you asked, looking up at him with those beautiful eyes of yours.

"Nothing, I just hope your boyfriend doesn't mind me borrowing his clothes," he choked out. He couldn't help but assume that you were in a relationship. How could you not be? If you have a boyfriend he's jealous of him, but if you were single that would be worse. Beautiful women like yourself deserve to be in loving relationships.

"I don't have a boyfriend, those are my brothers," you giggled.

"Unfortunately he is not nearly as muscular as you are so they might fit a little tightly," you said as you turned your back to him and continued preparing the snacks after directing him towards the bathroom.

He caught a glimpse of your bikini top under your open-back dress realizing it was a swimsuit coverup. Your universe had tropical weather and lots of beaches. You often wore bikinis under your outfits and you had gone swimming that morning and your coverup didn't exactly cover up the bikini you were wearing underneath.

He was so mesmerized by your face he didn't even realize the outfit that you were wearing. You made your clothes look like they were crafted for a Greek goddess.

The two of you spent the evening talking while watching Love Island Australia. Afterward, you spent the night on the beach, watching the sunset with a fireplace keeping you warm. For the first time, the two of you told each other your deepest thoughts in the dead of night instead of telling the moon. Instead of listening, the moon illuminated your skin causing you to glow even at night making Miguel trip over his words stunned by your beauty.

♪ 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑖'𝑚 𝑠𝑜 𝑓𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑜𝑢𝑠 𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑒 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑡𝚑𝑖𝑠 𝑤𝑎𝑦. 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑤𝚑𝑎𝑡 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑖 𝑠𝑎𝑦? 𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝑔𝑜𝑟𝑔𝑒𝑜𝑢𝑠 ♪

After spending some time with you in your universe bonding with you, Miguel couldn't bring himself to be around you. You knew so much about him. He was afraid that maybe you thought he was weak. He had told people about losing his daughter before but he never in depth talked about how it made him feel. He never told anyone how many times he thought of her.

Or how many random things reminded him of her. He never told anyone about the pink and teal version of his suit that he made just for her because those were her two favorite colors. He made sure to never show people the side of him that was mourning his daughter because he thought it was weak.

He started subtly avoiding you because he was ashamed and embarrassed. He was glad that you both knew such intimate things about each other but it was hard for him to not feel embarrassed.

He returned to his usual habits of locking himself in his lair during lunch and all throughout the day. He only left for missions that he made sure you weren't on. He didn't know why was acting this way. I made him angry at how his brain was forcing him to stay away and it felt like a string was pulling his heart to yours.

He wanted to be with you so badly that you consumed his thoughts. It was only an hour later when he realized that instead of writing a mission report, he was writing your name repeatedly. 24 pages of just you. That was how much was in his mind.

He decided to hit the gym to try to get you off his mind. It was packed as always, he scanned the room and didn't see you there. His heart sank a little but his mind convinced him to be at ease because he wouldn't have to face you.

♪ 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝚑𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑖𝑡 𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑖𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝚑𝑎𝑡 𝑖'𝑚 𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝚑𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 ♪

He did a pretty good job of avoiding you. Until he couldn't. Peter B had invited him to dinner and failed to mention that he had also invited you. He was mutual friends with the two of you and immediately pieced together that you two were perfect for each other but too self-conscious to realize that the feelings were mutual.

Dinner was okay except for the fact that Miguel wouldn't even speak to you at a social gathering. You could feel his eyes on you but he still would talk to you.

Meanwhile, Miguel was a nervous wreck bouncing his leg under the table. He was rehearsing what he should say to you, and figuring out ways to join in on the conversation to speak to you.

The moment he looked your way he was anxious. You were so stunning it was hard for him to think straight. You thought maybe he was completely done with you after you revealed some of your deepest thoughts and secrets to him that night. It was a shame because after hearing about Gabi you sympathized with him and wanted to get to know him better and just be around him.

Peter B picked up on this and found a way to usher the two of you out to the dimly lit porch that outlooked his backyard with little fairy lights hanging above accompanied by fireflies flying above your heads. He was pretending to tidy up and do dishes but he was truthfully analyzing your body language with MJ and Mayday trying to figure out how the conversation was going. "So we haven't spoken in a while," he started.

"Can we not beat around the bush? Can I just ask you a question straight up?" you asked.

"Yes, of course," he replied, stumbling on his words a bit as you found his eyes.

"Do you not want to be around me because of the things I told you that night at the beach?" you asked, looking at him with an almost worried expression.

"What? God, know that actually made me respect you even more than I already did before," he chuckled.

"Then why haven't you been speaking to me?" you asked, sighing a bit thankful that he didn't dislike you.

"I thought you'd think I was weak after I told you about Gabi and everything," he revealed.

"You're kidding. After you opened up about that I only thought of how strong you were and how much I wanted to get to know you more," you admitted.

"Oh wow, I wish I had communicated better," he said.

"I wish I tried harder for you," you admitted.

The heat rose to Miguel's cheeks and he looked forward and he looked at the starry sky.

♪ 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝚑𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑡𝚑𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑡𝚑𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑡𝑜𝑢𝑐𝚑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑦 𝚑𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑛 𝑡𝚑𝑒 𝑑𝑎𝑟𝑘𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑑 𝑟𝑜𝑜𝑚 ♪

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence listening to the lullaby nature was creating around you with the rustle of leaves, creaks of frogs, screams of crickets, and whos of owls.

In the melodic chaos of the night, Miguel's hand inched closer and closer to yours. He was almost holding his breath from the tension and suspense he felt as he slowly inched his hand closer.

He hoped that when his hand brushed yours you wouldn't pull it away or shudder but hold his hand too. Little did he know you were doing the same. From the inside of the house, Peter watched the two of you slowly intertwine hands and he saw you lean against Miguel's broad shoulder.

Miguel's heart skipped a beat when he felt you intertwine your fingers with his. Nothing could have made him happier than the confirmation that you felt the same way about Miguel. The two of you stayed outside for a while staring at the vast sky enjoying each other's comfort.

"The moon looks beautiful tonight"

. . .

the end <3

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚

[luveline]

Hii I adore your writing and am in desperate need of more single dad Spencer <333

many thanks, Anon in love :)

tysm!!

Spencer named his daughter Amanda because it means worthy of love. He told Emily he wanted there to be no confusion, that Amanda was loved from the very second she was born. You've been hopeless since you found out. 

"Amy, please stop," Spencer says, looking down between the picnic table and the white and red tablecloths, where Amanda sits in the grass beneath tying his shoelaces together. 

"Don't know what you're saying," Amy mumbles, frustrated as her fingers get caught in another knot. 

Spencer gives you a look you're all too thrilled to receive, like Amanda's cuteness has something to do with you. "Can you make her stop?" he asks. 

"I don't want to," you say, not whining but maybe close, "she's so sweet, who am I to stop her?" 

"You know, I'll fall if I stand up. She wants to see me in pain. Amy, you're exhibiting signs of a budding psychopath." He smiles at her lovingly. "I'm gonna fall when I stand up!" 

"You won't!" 

"I will! I will, and then Y/N's gonna be embarrassed to be seen with me, and you're gonna have a dad covered in bruises." Spencer pouts at her. You love how he winds her up, how he talks to her like she's a little grown up and the charming way she responds, big words in little tones. 

"You're beautiful no matter what, dad," Amy says. 

It's too practised to be natural. Spencer must say it to Amy often for her to know it off by heart. You swoon like a cheap tent in a hurricane, casting your gaze around Rossi's huge garden for saving. Everyone has purposefully left you to suffer here in paradise, uncaring when Spencer torments you with all his loveliness.

His daughter is worse, climbing up onto the bench between you and Spencer before widening her eyes at you. She looks sort of like Spencer but perhaps more like her mother. Whoever that is must be pretty, and good at giving puppy dog eyes. 

"Do you want something?" you ask her, attempting to sound like JJ does when she talks to her. You're wobbly but getting there, evidenced by the honey-thick smile you've earned. 

"Can I sit on your lap?" she asks. 

You open your arms obediently. She's slight like her dad and doesn't feel like she weighs much as she sits on your thighs, her face smushed into your cardigan. 

"Is everything okay?" you ask, bringing your hand up behind her back automatically. You're not sure if you should be hugging her but Spencer doesn't protest. 

"Can I asked you something?" 

"Sure, you can ask me." You turn your head to expose your ear. 

Amy grins and leans up, whispering, "Can we go get– can we get jelly, please? Pink jelly." 

"Does Uncle Rossi have jelly?" Spencer asks. 

"Yeah, daddy, I saw it in the kitchen." 

"I can't come, I'll fall. Will you take her, please?" Spencer asks with a frown. "It's a lot of knots." 

"Yeah, I can take her. I don't mind. Come on, honey, let's go look."

Amy jumps down off of your lap but waits for you, holding out her hand. You take it and she leads you past your coworkers crowding a hot grill to Rossi's patio doors. It's cooler inside, and you've no need for your sunglasses. You put them on the table next to covered bowls of pasta and salad, poking at lids and tin foil curiously. "Which one did you see the jelly in?" 

"I don't think there's jelly. I want to ask you a secret question." 

You look down at Any with wide eyes. "What question is that, honey?" 

"Are you and my dad in love?"

You laugh sudden enough to make you cough, looking down at Spencer's little girl totally speechless. Smarts are genetic for sure. She asks huge questions. 

"Why do you think that?" you ask, trying for gentle and sounding strangled.

"Because you're really nice to dad and he told me that you're pretty and funny and you'd definitely play Cracker Cards with me." 

"He said that?" 

"Yes!" she says, looking up at you with a smile. "Are you going to get married?" 

You rub your face. Ten minutes later and you're carrying Amy on your hip as she carries a big bowl of pasta, a metal fork in her hands. Spencer has opted to take his shoes off completely and untie the knots, but he seems to have made little progress. "That's not jelly," he says. 

"We couldn't find it." 

"Are you okay?" Spencer asks, abandoning his shoes to put his hand behind your arm and shoulder. 

"I'm okay. Are you okay, Amy?" you ask. 

Amy stabs a piece of pasta with her fork with a big smile on her little face. "I think I said the wrong thing, dad." 

"What did you say?" he asks, looking between you both in concern. "I'm sorry, we're working on context clues." 

"It's okay. It wasn't wrong, it's just, I wasn't expecting it," you say. 

"Well, what did she say?" 

You shrug, "It wasn't really–" 

"I asked her if she'd want marry you, dad, and about the photo of you at the christmas party. It was nice!" Amy insists. 

Spencer flushes with a bright red blush instantaneously. It's shocking how fast his cheeks blossom considering the sun's been out for hours now. He laughs nervously. "I see." 

"Amy!" Hotch calls. "Sweetheart, do you want a hotdog?" 

Amy pushes the bowl of cold pasta you'd made her onto Spencer's lap. "Yes, please," she says, hopping off of the bench. 

You and Spencer meet eyes and swiftly look away. There's something between you both, longing and long looks, too much affection, excuses to be near one another. You really do like him, and maybe he likes you, but you aren't ready to deal with it now. 

"Do you want to go get a hotdog too?" Spencer asks. 

"Yep." You jump up. "Good idea." 

Maybe you can confess your feelings at the next family barbecue. (Probably not.) 

[ashwhowrites]

okay so this has been in my head forever but imagine cheerleader/rich popular reader and eddie are dating. reader is the daughter of a company ceo and wayne works at the company. wayne absolutely hates his boss because he’s rich and spoiled and his boss hates him because he doesn’t understand where he came from since he never grew up poor or whatever. let’s say one day reader and eddie decide to tell their parents about each other and reader invites eddie and wayne to come to her house for dinner and wayne and her dad are pissed bc they don’t want their kid/nephew associated with each other and like forbid them from being together but they eventually realize how much they mean to each other and like give them permission to date again. i feel like this would be so chaotic and funny but cute and wholesome at the same time

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Rich girl, poor boy

Wayne Munson was a hard-working man who didn't get credit where it was due. He started at the bottom and worked his way through every promotion. But his boss made Wayne's life hell. He kept Wayne at work later and later, giving him random tasks that weren't needed and treating him like scum. His boss was a rich old man, he was bitter and looked down on the people beneath him. Wayne was used to being the poorest man compared to others, but to be targeted because of it by his boss was his last straw. He hated that man and he hated whoever was related to him.

Wayne worked hard for himself but he also worked hard for Eddie. To provide as much as he could for his nephew. That's why he sucked it up and kept working for that twat of a boss.

~~~

"You're home very late," Eddie announced as Wayne walked through the door. The small clock above the couch read midnight as Eddie picked at the cold plate of dinner.

"Tried to wait but I was starved," Eddie said, Wayne brushed it off, heating his plate in the microwave. He waited a few seconds as it heated, grabbing a beer and taking a swig. He grabbed the warm plate and set it on the table.

"It's fine. The boss decided every car on the lot needed a tire cleaning." Wayne grumbled, stuffing his face with semi-warm food, Eddie frowned as he sat across from his uncle.

"Again? You did that last week." Eddie said he could see Wayne's body language was annoyed and exhausted.

"Didn't do good enough last time," Wayne said, rolling his eyes as he ate his first meal of the deal. Eddie watched with a heavy heart as Wayne's tired body ate as fast as he could. He knew once he finished, Wayne would go to bed and do it all over again.

"How was your day, though?" Wayne asked, he tried to keep up with Eddie's life. His parents were deadbeats and never checked up on him. Wayne wanted Eddie to have at least one parent who cared.

"Good! I took Y/N to get ice cream and we listened to new records." Eddie smiled as he recalled his day. Wayne couldn't help but smile along. Eddie had this girlfriend that he was obsessed with. She was popular and a cheerleader. Wayne almost choked on his dinner when Eddie first told him about her. He was nervous that such a popular girl was interested in Eddie, but from every story, she sounded sweet and genuine.

"When do I get to meet the unlucky girl?" Wayne joked, placing his fork on the empty plate.

"Haha," Eddie faked laughed, flipping Wayne off. "She's been asking for our families to meet, and invited us over for dinner on Friday. Think your boss will let you off at a normal time? She wants to do it around seven."

"I'll make him," Wayne promised, a pat on Eddie's head as he made his way to bed.

~~~

"I haven't worn nice clothes since you got baptized." Wayne chuckled, buttoning up his last button, then tucking his shirt into his jeans.

"I'm baptized?" Eddie laughed, also tucking his button-up into his jeans.

"Oh yeah, your mom did it for your grandma before she died. Are you ready?" Wayne asked, grabbing the keys.

~~~

"Eddie!" Y/N cheered, her arms wrapped around him as she snuggled into his neck. She soaked in his warmth for a second before she pulled away. Her eyes were on the older man next to Eddie. She smiled and brought him into a hug as well.

"Oh!" Wayne chuckled, hugging her back softly.

"Eddie talks about you all the time. Nice to see the man that inspires him." Y/N said as she pulled away. Wayne smiled back at her kindness. She had a sweet voice and a bright smile. He could easily see why Eddie fell so fast.

"Nice to meet the girl Eddie constantly talks about. I see he was right about how beautiful you are." Wayne smiled, and Y/N felt herself blush as she looked at Eddie. Her was art warm when he talked about her and believed she was beautiful.

"Well, I'll lead you to the dining room!" She said. Her black dress swayed at the bottom as she turned around. Her heels clicked on the marble floor as the boys followed behind her. Wayne tried to not let his jaw drop as he took in the huge house. The chandelier on the ceiling, the velvet furniture, the plants, and wall art. She came from money, and she came from lots of money.

Eddie was in awe of her house. He didn't think these houses were real. It looked like a scene from a movie. He knew she was rich, but he didn't know she was that rich. She didn't act spoiled, she was humble and even had a part-time job. She wasn't a snob, Eddie wouldn't have guessed she came from this much money based on how she acted.

"Daddy, this is Eddie! My boyfriend, and his uncle, Wayne!" Y/N held Eddie's hand as she introduced them to her dad. Her dad stood up from the table, his eyes settled on the younger man next to his daughter. Then they moved to the older man next to him.

"Son of a bitch." Wayne muttered to himself. Eddie quickly looked at him with confusion. Y/N looked between her dad and Wayne. Not understand why the air got so thick.

"You didn't tell me you were dating a Munson boy." Her dad sneered. Y/N didn't like the way he said Munson like it was a curse.

"Well he didn't mention he was dating a Y/L/N" Wayne growled back. Both men racing their chins higher and higher.

"Away from that boy now!" Her dad said, walking over to yank her arm. Y/N gasped as her grip lost Eddie's.

"Daddy!" She hissed, she couldn't believe his behavior. "What is the problem?"

"That man is a shame excuse of a man. He is scum at the bottom of the earth and you will not be dating no family member of his." He demanded, Y/N felt panic in her chest. Worriedly looking at Eddie.

"Sir, please just give us a chance. I'm not sure how you know Wayne, but he isn't scum! And neither am I. I love your daughter and I know I can take care of her." Eddie tried.

"Not. He works for me! I know exactly how much of a pathetic man he is. How can you take care of her when you are poor, Eddie? My baby girl doesn't belong in a tiny trailer."

"Stop it! You are being so rude." Y/N said, yanking her arm from her dad's grip. She stood productively in front of Eddie. "Eddie is a very nice boy and I love him. How much money he's got has nothing to do with anything."

"You are not dating him. That's an order."

"You can't tell me what to do! We don't need your support." Y/N snapped, her eyes angry as she stared down her dad.

"We have Wayne's and that's all we need," Eddie said, his hand reaching out to grasp hers softly.

"Eddie, you break up this relationship right now," Wayne said Eddie's eyes were huge as he turned around to look at his uncle. Shock is written all over his face.

Y/N's dad smiled as Wayne agreed. Maybe they could have this one small thing in common.

"Wayne!" Eddie exclaimed. He couldn't believe Wayne would suggest that. Y/N felt her heart crack as she turned to look at Wayne.

"Eddie, that man is evil. He is a snob, rude, and will forever look down on the people below him. I'm sure the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. You are getting out while you still can. You are not dating a spoiled brat." Wayne spat out.

"Wayne!" Eddie scolded, he couldn't believe Wayne would speak so poorly of Y/N, he barely gave her a chance. In the same way, Dad barely gave Eddie the chance.

"Wayne, please. I know my dad is a boss man but I would never look down on you or Eddie. I'm so sorry for his behavior, but please I love Eddie. Don't do this." Y/N begged. She knew her dad was a loss cause, she needed Wayne to be on their side.

"It's Mr. Munson, Eddie we are leaving. Say goodbye and meet me in the car." Wayne spat, he turned around and walked out the door.

"Break up with the boy or Wayne is fired. You will not be talked about like that. He disrespected my daughter in my house!" Her dad threatened, his arms crossed as he looked down at the couple. He ignored the pain in his daughter's eyes but enjoyed the fear in Eddie's.

"Eds." Y/N whimpered, her eyes watery as the world crashed at their feet. She didn't want to lose him.

"Y/N, I gave an order. I want him out of my house and out of your life." Her dad said before he left the room.

"What do we do?" Eddie asked

"We have to break up." Y/N choked out, her eyes watered and her throat burned.

"Baby no! We'll make your dad change his mind! I'll make him, I promise!" Eddie panicked.

"I'm sorry. That job is all you guys have. I can't be the reason he gets fired, he'll hate me even more." Y/N couldn't live with that guilt. "I'm sorry." Y/N whimpered, sobs making its way out of her mouth. She covered her cries with her hands.

"He doesn't hate you! I'll make him change his mind and give you a chance!"

"Eddie, it's me or the job. Wayne would never accept us if it cost him his job, his income, and his source to support you. But soon I'll have money saved to move out, we will graduate and we can be together. Just wait for me?" She cried.

"Yes," Eddie said with no hesitation. He'd wait years for her.

"I love you," Eddie whispered, leaning down to softly kiss her goodbye. He felt his heart sink as he tasted her salty tears.

"I love you." She whispered. She watched as he walked out the door.

Eddie tried to hold back his sobs as he got in the car. He didn't look at Wayne the whole drive. The betrayal in Eddie's heart was the worst pain he'd ever felt. Out of everyone in the world, he thought Wayne would always have his back.

The car ride was silent, a few blocks away from home when Wayne finally spoke up.

"Look, I know you-" Wayne tried

"No! You don't know. I can't believe you would talk to her that way. You disrespected my girlfriend right to her face. She has done nothing to you. It's her fucking dad! Yeah, I get that. But you did not need to treat her like that." Eddie snapped.

"Eddie, you are too young to understand. But she will turn out just like him. She'll be selfish and think she's above you. You'll thank me in the end." Wayne said.

"You don't know her. You don't know anything about her." Eddie argued. "She's nothing like him. She is sweet, kind, and would do anything for the people she loves."

Wayne laughed and shook his head. "She has you fooled." The car came to a stop as they pulled up to their trailer.

"Make sure you send her a thank you card for saving your ass from being fired." Eddie snapped as he slammed the car door. He raced into the trailer and locked himself in his room.

~~~

Y/N knew she'd never forgive her dad for what he did. She'd never forgive him for making her break it off with Eddie. She'd never forgive him for not letting her be happy. Her mom tried to make everyone civil, but dinners were silent. Y/N refused to speak or look at her dad.

"How was school?" Her mom asked, slicing her steak.

"Fine," Y/N muttered. She picked at her plate, not much of an appetite. The breakup with Eddie was the most painful thing she's ever experienced. It's been days of silence. Days of longing look from across the classroom. Days of crying in her room when all she wanted to do was be in Eddie's arms.

"Did you talk to that boy?" Her dad asked, his eyes squinting at her over his newspaper.

"No."

"Good girl."

~~~

Wayne sighed as he walked into the trailer, complete silence. It's been days of Eddie locked up in his room. He only left for school, then right back into his bedroom.

"Did you eat?" Wayne asked as he knocked on the door.

"No," Eddie said through the door.

Wayne ordered pizza, sitting on the couch as his nephew stayed locked in his room. Wayne was conflicted, he knew Eddie liked Y/N and that the breakup was hard. But Wayne couldn't help but like the relief of his boss' attitude towards him. It was like banning Eddie from seeing his daughter was a win. He let Wayne go home at normal times and didn't give random tasks.

In the end, it worked out for Wayne, but was it worth it if his nephew had to suffer?

Eddie came out when the pizza arrived. He stacked up a paper plate and went to walk back into his room.

"Can we talk for a second?" Wayne asked, Eddie sighed but sat down.

"I know you're hurting. I know these past few weeks have been hard for you. I can see my actions have hurt you. It's hard for me to admit, but I was wrong. I spent years trying to get you to smile and enjoy life. Ever since I took you in, there was this light missing in your eyes. I took you to parks, bowling, and arcades, and yet you never smiled. You grew up and still, that light wasn't there. You never enjoyed living. Then you met her. And one day, I saw that light in your eyes. I see that smile when you talk about her. I'm sorry I took that away from you, Eds." Wayne said, choking slightly as he felt tears falling down his face. "I'm so sorry. I want that light back in your eyes. I want you to have something to live for."

Eddie choked back his cries as he watched Wayne break down.

"She makes me happy, Uncle Wayne," Eddie whispered, biting his lip harshly as he felt sobs making their way into his throat.

"You have my blessing. Get her back." Wayne said, he reached out and rubbed Eddie's hand softly.

"It means a lot. But she broke it off so you could keep your job. Her dad threatened to fire you. She'll never do that to you." Eddie said, "But thank you."

Wayne watched as he got up and went back into his room.

He knew what he had to do to make it up to his nephew.

~~~

"Sir, can I come in?" Wayne asked as he knocked on his boss's door.

"Yes." His boss sat at his big desk, his hands under his chin as he waited for Wayne to speak.

"I quit," Wayne said, folding his uniform and placing it on the desk.

"Excuse me?" His boss scoffed.

"Eddie or the job, right? Your daughter and I have something in common. We both love that boy and it's time he gets picked. I pick Eddie. I'm accepting your daughter, because of the way she brightens up my boy's world. If you can't see he does the same for her, then maybe you don't love her the way you should." Wayne said, not waiting for a response as he left the office.

~~~

Eddie was doing homework in the kitchen when Wayne walked in.

"It's like three? How did you get off that early?" Eddie chuckled.

"I quit."

"WHAT?" Eddie yelled, standing up from his chair.

"He can't fire me if I don't work for him," Wayne smirked.

"But Wayne! We need the money."

"I'll get a job somewhere else. You are more important than any job. I'm sorry I stood in the way of your relationship, but now there won't be any consequences."

"Thank you." Eddie smiled, tears in his eyes as he pulled Wayne into a tight hug. Wayne smiled as a few tears left his eyes. That smile was back.

And so was she

~~~

"CHEATER!" Y/N screamed, her accusing fingers pointed to Eddie as he tried to tuck cards under his plate.

"AM NOT!" he yelled back. His hand crumbled up another card he tried to hide. His girlfriend's eyes were watching his every move.

"WAYNE!" she yelled, the older man got off the couch and walked to the table. The board game is on the table, dice everywhere, and a mess of cards.

"Check his hand." She said a smile on her face. She knew Eddie was about to be caught.

"Wayne! Who are you gonna believe? Me or her?" Eddie gasped

"Your girlfriend." Wayne laughed, easily tackling Eddie to the floor as he tried to get the card out of his hand.

"GOT IT!" Wayne cheered, snatching the crumbled card. He held out his hand and yanked Eddie to his feet. Then placed the card in Y/N's hand.

"I knew it!" She said, slamming down the card she needed to win.

"Thank you, Uncle Wayne." She laughed as she high-fived him.

"He always cheats," Wayne whispered, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. "Now I'm off to bed. Try not to be too loud. Big day tomorrow!"

"Good luck at the job interview," Y/N said, Wayne thanked her as he shut his bedroom door.

He smiled as he crawled into bed, the sound of Eddie's laughter and Y/N's screams filled the trailer.

Now the sound of that was worth quitting a job for.

[shinestarhwaa]

LOVERS LANE || CHOI SAN

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: Husband!San x Fem!reader

Word Count: 0.6K

Tags/Warnings: Married Couple AU, San & reader have a daughter, fluffiest fluff ever, pregnancy announcement, I cannot think of any warnings

Taglist: @anyamaris @a-soft-hornytiny @whatudowhennooneseesyou @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @pyeonghongrie-main @woosanbby @dreamlesswonder86 @changbinslovelylegs @jonghostie @lovjensoo @mjyungi @bratty-tingz @sugarnspice630 @stardragongalaxy @bro-atz @wisejudgedragonhairdo @mingisg00dgirl @vesvosmozhno

ENJOY!

''Babe, she won't eat the salad I made,'' San pouted. You looked at your daughter and laughed at the sulky faces both she and your husband made. ''San, honey, she's two. Most two year olds do not eat salad.'' ''But she has to try it! I made it with love,'' San sulked. ''Nabi knows what she wants and what she doesn't want is eating your salad. Instead she wants to eat mommy's sandwiches, right sweetie?''

Nabi happily took one of the small sandwiches in her hand and ate it as she continued to play with her dolls. San sighed and leaned back, letting the early spring sunrays hit his skin. You admired him for a second, drowning in his immaculate beauty.

You were so lucky to have him, you thought. He was always so kind and gentle with you, making sure you were okay and he was so funny. San won over your heart in no-time and now a few years later here you were: sitting on a blanket in a beautiful meadow in April.

''I brought a drink, to celebrate our anniversary,'' San smiled, reaching for the little champagne bottle in his bag. You bit your lip to hold back a giggle but he noticed. ''What is it?'' San asked. ''Well I can't drink that...''

''Oh, honey I know champagne is not your favourite but this one is really good actually, it's from France and it's very sweet and bubbly and you definitely need to try it becau-''

''Sannie, I'm pregnant.''

He gasped and paused, looking into your eyes to detect some kind of prank-situation, but it was true. You smiled widely as you placed your hand on your stomach. Nabi showed no reaction - probably not knowing what it even meant to be pregnant - but San's eyes were filled with tears of joy.

''You are pregnant? Really?'' he asked, unsure. ''I am, sweetie. Five weeks actually,'' you explained, holding his hand. ''Oh wow, darling this is... Incredible. We're having another baby? Baby number two?'' You laughed and nodded, ''Baby number two!''

San started laughing and he hugged you tight. ''You're pregnant!'' ''Mommy pregit?'' ''Pregnant, honey,'' San repeated, ''You know what that means?'' Your daughter shook her head no. ''This means you're getting a sibling... A little brother or a little sister... In 8 months mommy and daddy are having another baby,'' San explained.

''Sibling?'' Nabi said, eyes widening. A smile played on her small pink lips and she let out a giggle. ''Yes honey, you'll have a little brother or sister to play with, how's that?'' you asked, taking her in your lap. ''Fun!'' she exclaimed, giving you a hug.

You kissed her head and held her, remembering what it was like when Nabi was born. She was born a few weeks early and you were very worried about it, but San assured you that she would be fine because he was born early too and the Choi family only has fighters, so she'd be a fighter too. San didn't lie because Nabi was a true fighter, growing up well.

Immediately you knew that San and Nabi were very much alike. She gets sulky if things go wrong, she laughs a lot with her uncles and she's very determined. You knew that she'd be in good hands with San as a father but you had no idea how incredibly devoted he'd be. Even if it came to playing with her he'd go all the way; joining her teaparty Thursday's and playing with her dolls. It was so endearing you thought you'd burst.

For a while you just laid in his arms, Nabi happily playing in your lap. The nice spring breeze was calming and so relaxing. ''I can't believe it,'' San said after a while of cuddling, ''We'll have two babies to love... How lucky are we?'' ''The luckiest people on earth, darling.''

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Wow! As the header says, my blog just went past 5k followers - I'd like to extend a heartfelt thank you to everyone who hopped on for this journey; I'm having the time of my life sharing my writing with you all.

In celebration and as a way to have a little fun - I'll be opening my inbox for a day and letting those who want to send in something fill it up!

Now, I know you're probably asking yourself 'Hal, I thought you said requests are going to be closed so you can finish the ones you have and work on the AUs?' And you'd be correct - I did say that. I'm not going to be writing full-length works for this event.

To anyone who sends something in (and follows the rules I have in place on my Request Form (be sure to check it even if you've already read it, I added some more characters and other stuff)) I'll be writing one-to-two page drabbles!

All this being said, after this post is uploaded I'll be opening my inbox up to anyone who would want to participate and closing it exactly one day after!

Thank you again for being the best community ever - I'm incredibly lucky to be surrounded by kind and respectful individuals as well as mutuals who are mind-numbingly sweet. I could not have achieved all of this without you; I think that's beautiful.

This post will also serve as the Masterlist for all of the expected drabbles, so if you'd like to keep updated on what's going to be happening/being written soon, this would be a good place to hang out!

ALL COMPLETED AS OF 11/5/2023

IMAGES USED: A black retriever in an extensive mountainous landscape by Maud Earl & L'angelo, la morte e il diavolo by Roberto Ferri || TOTAL: 5

➣The Perfect One

╰┈➤ ❝ [He stares at the rings under the glass with an acute narrowness to his eyes. He inspects every one as if a bomb might go off at any second, not missing a single detail in the metal.] ❞

➣Get In

╰┈➤ ❝ [Coming home with bruises and stitched wounds, you drag him into the bathroom to wash away the memories.] ❞

➣Hum Me A Tune, Blue-Eyes

╰┈➤ ❝ [You listen to his heartbeat as he keeps you to his chest, his breath tickling your hair.] ❞

➣Here Now

╰┈➤ ❝ [He nearly misses one of the most important moments of your lives together.] ❞

➣Burst Veins

╰┈➤ ❝ [He never noticed you weren't behind him.] ❞

IMAGES USED:  Fallen Angel by Roberto Ferri & Nature of Fear by Nicola Samori || TOTAL: 5

➣Nervous Eyes

╰┈➤ ❝ [No one understands how you two get along - not when you're so different. It makes you second-guess yourself. He notices.] ❞

➣Blood Like Obsidian

╰┈➤ ❝ [Simon can only fight against so many nurses as they shove him back from your operation room.] ❞

➣Supposed To Happen

╰┈➤ ❝ [You died and left him a child he had no idea existed. How can he even begin to try and understand?] ❞

➣Digging Gaze

╰┈➤ ❝ [You indulge in a one-night-stand after you'd both called it quits, only, it leads to more problems. When he sees you again, how will he react to the swelling of your stomach?] ❞

➣Sole Survivor

╰┈➤ ❝ [Your father died years ago, and so you fall under the stiff, and unyielding, protection of your Uncle Simon. But it's not all bad. He can be funny when he wants to be.] ❞

IMAGES USED: White and Black by Vadim Gorbatov & Saint Augustine by Philippe de Champaigne || TOTAL: 7

➣Didn't Mean It

╰┈➤ ❝ [Arguments are rare, certainly ones that leave you in tears.] ❞

➣Him, Her, and the Dog

╰┈➤ ❝ [The woes of pining after a woman whose deadly K9 looks like it hates his guts.] ❞

➣Drunken Sappiness

╰┈➤ ❝ [You can't say you've ever had a boyfriend as perfect as Kyle.] ❞

➣How Do You Listen To That?

╰┈➤ ❝ [It was three a.m. when you all got the call to load up, but what's the best way to wake both yourself and the Sergeant up?] ❞

➣Finally Broken

╰┈➤ ❝ [Childhood friends turned lovers. The realization was far more violent and instantaneous than you'd like to admit.] ❞

➣Don't Look At Her

╰┈➤ ❝ [The bomb starts ticking down, rapidly firing to zero. Gaz won't let Price near you. Not after he'd remembered the Captain's actions when they'd first met.] ❞

➣In His Head

╰┈➤ ❝ [Collection of his SFW and NSFW quirks.] ❞

IMAGES USED: Scene from the Great Flood by Joseph-Désiré Court & Saint Jerome in Prayer by Carlo Dolci || TOTAL: 7

➣Life Snaps By In Flashes

╰┈➤ ❝ [A collection of memories from the second he laid eyes on you. All flashing past in the soft buzzing of the overhead lights.] ❞

➣Heart-Eyes

╰┈➤ ❝ [Being a medic wasn't pretty, but when your boyfriend was the subject under your needle you can't help but enjoy his unwavering gaze. Today, he has something to share with you.] ❞

➣From Ten To Twenty & Beyond

╰┈➤ ❝ [You've known him ever since the incident on the playground, and now you can't help but imagine that same boy as you watch him make supper with flour in his hair.] ❞

➣Find Me

╰┈➤ ❝ [You're finally back in One-Four-One's hands, but that doesn't mean you're saved. Johnny tracks you down after a violent episode.] ❞

➣Still The Same Fools

╰┈➤ ❝ [There was always a rivalry between you two - that hasn't changed even if both of you have. Years later, the boiling point is finally met.] ❞

➣Is This Why?

╰┈➤ ❝ [He finally sees why you never introduced him to your parents.] ❞

➣Oblivious Pining

╰┈➤ ❝ [Johnny hangs off you like a silent beast. Not that you would notice, of course.] ❞

IMAGES USED: King Gustav III of Sweden and His Brothers by Alexander Roslin & Geography lesson by Eduard Karl Gustav Lebrecht Pistorius || TOTAL: 6

KEEGAN P. RUSS:

➣Paint The Dawn; Paint My Eyes

╰┈➤ ❝ [In the midst of war and death, there's little time for pleasure. All you had was a ripped-up sketchbook to call your own, its contents littered with the rough face of your comrade.] ❞

➣Hold Her Close

╰┈➤ ❝ [Keegan cares for his young daughter.] ❞

➣When The Fighting Stops & The Silence Sets In

╰┈➤ ❝ [Continuation of (Don't) Go To War: the aftermath of recovery and a budding relationship.] ❞

➣Movies and Stale Popcorn

╰┈➤ ❝ [Oak and Keegan finally get to watch that movie.] ❞

DAVID 'HESH' WALKER:

➣To The Boy of My Childhood

╰┈➤ ❝ [Ten years came and went fast, but the memory of the Walker boys stayed. One more than the other. You never got to tell him you loved him.] ❞

➣Keep The Sheets Warm, My Love Is Coming Home

╰┈➤ ❝ [If this wasn't enough to prove that you were the only person for Hesh, you didn't know what did.] ❞

IMAGES USED: Saint Catherine of Alexandria by Caravaggio & Amor Vincit Omnia by Caravaggio || TOTAL: 17

CAPTAIN JOHN 'SOAP' MACTAVISH:

➣New Paint

╰┈➤ ❝ [Fighting to forget you, MacTavish finds comfort in whoever he can. Yet, like the layers of paint on the walls, it always peels back to you.] ❞

➣A Song of Gnashing Teeth

╰┈➤ ❝ [There was never a day where the two of you weren't butting heads - everyone was at their wit's end. Of course, you would both be forced to cooperate at some point.] ❞

➣Listen To My Voice

╰┈➤ ❝ [He orders you to focus on him as the sounds outside the cell get closer. He promises nothing will happen to you. You know he's lying.] ❞

➣Look At The Stars; Look At Me

╰┈➤ ❝ [Stargazing in the middle of an overgrown and wild glade.] ❞

➣Alive and Breathing

╰┈➤ ❝ [You're sick. Very sick. John takes drastic action.] ❞

➣I Can See It In Your Eyes

╰┈➤ ❝ [It's finally time to meet the family.] ❞

➣A Green-Eyed Monster

╰┈➤ ❝ [You'd slept together, sure. No strings attached. Then why are you trying to make him jealous? Who cares, the point is that it's working.] ❞

SERGEANT GARY 'ROACH' SANDERSON:

➣Dance With Me Before The Chill Sets In

╰┈➤ ❝ [Tired? Yes, but he's never too tired for you and your loveliness. But maybe you need to remember to lock the door when you're home alone.] ❞

➣Raining Cats and Dogs

╰┈➤ ❝ [Roach has a deep love of storms.] ❞

OPERATION OFFICER ALEX KELLER:

➣Bright-Eyed History Lesson

╰┈➤ ❝ [A librarian with a fascination for war history and a soldier who loves how her eyes light up. Like a dog, he can't stop himself from coming back; smiling like a fool.] ❞

COLONEL ALEJANDRO VARGAS:

➣Hold Me Longer

╰┈➤ ❝ [Mornings spent in the sanctity of warm sunlight and bare skin.] ❞

SERGEANT MAJOR RODOLFO 'RUDY' PARRA:

➣A Love Like Ours Makes Us Strong

╰┈➤ ❝ [Rodolfo came back, alive but bruised. How do you explain how terrified you were?] ❞

COMMANDER PHILLIP GRAVES:

➣Sleeping On The Porch

╰┈➤ ❝ [As it turns out, your husband never really died. It's safe to say you're not overjoyed.] ❞

➣Love Echoes In Silence

╰┈➤ ❝ [You can feel him watching you, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and a small smile. Humming to yourself, you listen to the birds outside the window.] ❞

SEBASTIAN JOSEF KRUEGER:

➣Ain't Giving Up My Pride

╰┈➤ ❝ [You get on his nerves, partially because you want to. But what happens when he finally snaps?] ❞

ALL 141 INCLUDED (SEPARATE):

➣Count The Hours

╰┈➤ ❝ [Collection of what the One-Four-One do on their down-hours with their Lovers] ❞

➣Wide-Eyed Panic

╰┈➤ ❝ [Why were you behind the couch?] ❞

[lavendernlilac]

thinking too hard about bodyguard au again so we ramble :3 continuation of this post because these thoughts just won't stop coming

- even though hotguy is griande’s personal bodyguard, the head guy of security for Anything related to griande is skizz. he’s like grian’s overprotective weird uncle. hurt her and you’ll have one hell of an angry skizz coming for you

- when hotguy was first hired, skizz 100% gave him the “I don’t care if you’re some hotshot hero, if you try anything weird with her I’ll end you” talk (because they’ve probably one or two guys they hired for security who got… weird with grian)

- not that skizz worries for long though, hotguy proves that griande’s safety is the only thing that matters to him. and the two of them have been best buds since

- in his civilian life, scar is a model and pretty well known. I think it’d be funny (and really sweet) if grian had a lil crush on him. but they don’t know each other personally. just… admiration from afar

- that being said, scar has a massive crush on griande. he has so much respect for her. he’s got nearly every album she’s released and went to a concert of hers three years ago. so when he was approached as hotguy to be her bodyguard? there was no way he’d say no

- skizz was the one who suggested it btw

- have I mentioned that mumbo is a massive hotguy fanboy? and even after working with hotguy for like a year and a half, he still gets starry eyed and nervous? (also he and iskall are dating)

- grian will sometimes bring mumbo merch and he’s like “I can’t believe you got this!” meanwhile she’s secretly dating the guy who makes the merch

- scar uses hotguy as an outlet to be himself. he’s free to be as silly or dorky as he wants—it’s his escape from the daily life of scar goodtimes, a chance to be more of himself than he ever could

- yet interestingly, hotguy was never meant to exist. see, it started with a car accident. a pretty bad one—to the point scar was at death’s door. he was very close to dying when at the last second, a certain doc monster stepped in to save him. doc genuinely just wanted to save scar’s life. he never meant to create a superhero in his desperate attempt to fulfill his doctor’s oath. but something happened, some kind of mix up. scar was healed within a matter of days, as if the accident had never occurred. and scar was… changed. irreversibly

- (not even doc could figure out what happened, when scar stormed into his office. he couldn’t reverse it, either. he offered to run some tests, to help him figure out what happened. but scar vehemently denied any more tests. no more tests. he can’t go through that again, please don’t make him do it again he can’t he can’t he can’t he—)

- (…all doc could do was offer to help scar control his new abilities)

- so hotguy was accidentally born! and it was a freedom scar never knew he needed. sure, both the powers and the impact on his modeling career are permanent marks of his near death but. in a strange way, he’s thankful for it. for the opportunity it gives him

- (even if he can’t go to hospitals any more. lab coats shorten his breath. he panics at the sight of a needle.)

- (and sure, maybe he ends up put on a whole separate pedestal, objectified in a new way, and no one sees him for who he is but. it’s a freedom.)

- and for grian… ariana griande is a way to be the person she wants herself to be. griande is confident and sassy, not a single hint of doubt to be seen. while grian moon is snarky, and rough around the edges, full of self doubt. griande is a mask for grian to pretend to be who she wishes she was. griande is a form of escape she needs. but she’s also a shield

- before grian first began in the music industry, she was doing open mic nights at different establishments. until one night, she’s approached by a producer who sees a lot of promise in her, and would love to sign her on. cue grian calling mumbo and excitedly telling him she’s found her big break. only, to mumbo, it sounds… suspicious. he tells her to be careful, but grian swears it’ll be fine and he’s just overly cautious

- things with her new producer are great! she’s introduced to a bunch of people, given a tour of her new workplace and she’s eager to get started. and well, she’s a bit disappointed that she’s only allowed to record songs that other people have written, but she’s sure that’s just because she’s new! so grian does as told, encouraged and praised by her producer

- slowly that praise is replaced more and more by little nitpicks but it’s fine. she’s inexperienced. her producer is just trying to help her. (“your tone is way off.” “you’re not holding your air long enough.” “you’re in the wrong key.” “you can hear the other harmonies, can’t you? match them.” “you’re straining.” “you sound bad. re-record it.” “your clothes are hideous.” “some make up would do you good.” “your hair is too long, cut it.” “I don’t remember your voice being so bad, grian.” “you’re never going to make it big.” “signing you on was a mistake.”)

- ( she’s not good enough. she’s not good enough. she’s not good enough. she’s not good enough. she’s not good enough. )

- she’s caught writing a song of her own. it’s actually pretty good, her producer is impressed. he’ll think about recording it

- grian isn’t allowed to sing it. she’s not even credited for it.

- this goes on for months. she’s overworked, verbally abused, and beaten down. she’s hardly seen mumbo or any of their friends. it’s not until mumbo gets fed up and goes to see her himself for answers that grian finally cracks. she tells mumbo everything, that he was right. she has no chance at her dreams now, she’s not good enough for any of it. and well, mumbo wouldn’t be a very good friend if he let grian continue to believe that

- he gets iskall’s help in getting grian free of that company, and offers to help her get back on her feet, start her own brand. and thus, mumbo and iskall become her mangers

- grian creates griande to protect herself. griande is what the industry wants, who people expect her to be (as for grian… she doesn’t know who grian is anymore). she grows more comfortable as griande and she gains popularity quite quickly. she loves it

- when it comes time for scar to meet grian and not griande… she doesn’t know who to be. she doesn’t know what scar expects from her, or who he wants her to be for him (she just wants to be good enough for him). it makes her anxious. uncertain. but all scar wants is for grian to be herself. to be comfortable and happy and safe

[papercorgiworld]

If you had known, would you’ve come?

Tom convinces his brother to help him get a date with a girl that actually doesn’t like him one bit, but Tom has it all figured out, except for maybe the falling in love part. Leave it to a Riddle to underestimate love. + brother dynamic Mattheo/Tom

Last cameo is Daisy ( @musingsofahufflepuff ). This sweet Hufflepuff is Mattheo’s girlfriend and Mattheo convinces her to help him set you up with his brother.

Tom II Riddle won the poll thingy I did a few days ago, so here it is, my first Tom II Riddle x reader. I loved writing Tom and Mattheo as brothers. I don’t know a lot about the popular opinion on Tom II, so I kinda just went with a general Tom vibe. Tomorrow I’ll start working on the requests so expect the first one to pop up one of these days. But for now, happy readings!

I added part 2

“Hey, little brother.” Tom appears next to Mattheo, startling the younger Riddle. After a second Mattheo regains his composure. “So, am I in trouble or you?” Mattheo asks, making Tom smile. “You, it’s always you.” Mattheo rolls his eyes. “You’re failing potions.” How does he know everything? “Yeah, I missed a few essays. Nothing, I can’t fix.” Tom raises his eyebrows. Sure, you can, you little overconfident bimbo. “Well, I’ve been so kind as to write essays for you that can get your grade up.” Mattheo stops walking and turns to face his brother. “Kind? Funny. What’s the catch?” Tom stares dryly at his younger brother, annoyed with his witty attitude, but nevertheless grabs a bundle of papers out of his bag. “I’ll even give you my notes and summaries.” Mattheo nods as he curiously eyes his brother. “Ask your redhead girlfriend to set me up with (y/n), they’re friends, so it shouldn’t be a problem.” Mattheo tilts his head like he didn’t just hear his brother ask for a date with (y/n). “Why not ask her yourself?” Tom looks at Mattheo with dull eyes, like he just asked the most ridiculous question possible. “Cause she hates me.” Mattheo opens his mouth, but Tom interrupts him. “No more questions. Do you want these or not?” He waves the papers in front of Mattheo. Mattheo’s tongue pokes his cheek as he stares at his stoic brother with dark eyes, considering his options.

***

”How’s the most beautiful girl at Hogwarts doing?” Mattheo slings his arm around Daisy and kisses her cheek, making her smile. “You skipped class.” She says with judgy eyes. Mattheo licks his lips and stares her down with playful eyes. “Because I was busy dreaming about you.” Daisy rolls her eyes and pushes him away. “Very funny.” Mattheo follows her and whispers with a cheeky smile. “It’s true though.” A soft giggle escapes her and he smiles genuinely happy to have her, but then his face turns serious. “I hate this, but I need a favor.” Daisy frowns. They had been dating for almost a year and never had he asked for a favor, so she was immediately intrigued. “My brother wants a date with (y/n).” Daisy starts laughing out loud, before realizing Mattheo was serious. “No.” She says sternly.

“Hey, hey, what happened to all that hufflepuff kindness?” Mattheo argues as he pulls her closer. “You brother’s not the kind of guy who I want to set up with my friends.” Mattheo’s shoulders drop. “Why?” The hufflepuff averts her eyes, not liking what she’s about to say. “Cause he’s scary?” Mattheo’s lips form a line. “Right.” He lowers his head. “But you gave me a chance.” Mattheo’s eyes are innocent and Daisy purses her lips, thinking back to how Mattheo ruined every date she went on before admitting he liked her and actually asking her out. “Yeah I did, but I also knew there was a soft side to you.”

“My brother has a soft side, I’m sure, somewhere.” Mattheo frowns, seriously wondering for a moment if his brother had a soft side. “Look, he needs someone in his life, unless you want him to be the weird uncle that tells our kids that life is meaningless, downs a bottle of wine and murders people, not necessarily in that order, I honestly don’t know with my brother. The thing is he deserves a date, a chance.” Mattheo sighs, struggling to defend his brother. “Our kids?” Daisy questions with shiny eyes, loving the idea that Mattheo thinks about having kids. Mattheo feels himself get flustered and shakes his head. “Not the point of this conversation.” Daisy nods knowing that her boyfriend is right. “He deserves a date.” Mattheo smiles. “(y/n). Tonight. 7pm sharp at the wooden bridge. He has something planned.” Daisy frowns and sighs. “(Y/n) hates him. She’ll never agree to go out with him.” Mattheo nods. “Just tell her it’s a blind date.”

***

You were a bit nervous as you walked down the long wooden bridge, but mostly excited. You hadn’t been on a date in a while so when Daisy proposed to organize a blind date with a handsome and intelligent guy, who was one year older and wiser, you were easily convinced. Though, considering she was dating Mattheo Riddle you probably should’ve known her taste in men was worrying, not to say alarming. However, you fully trusted the sweet hufflepuff and chose to wear your most fancy dress, ready to impress. As you neared the end of the bridge you started to worry that you might even be overdressed. The wind blew through your perfectly done hair as you scanned your surroundings. “Seven sharp.” You whisper to yourself and check your watch, before looking around and softly chewing your lip. It’s then that you notice a small glimmer, only a few steps away. When you take the last step of the bridge your feet don’t land in the grass, because suddenly you’re in a room.

You twirl around admiring the beautiful decor. Someone conjured an entire room? A soft sound of admiration leaves your lips and you hear a soft chuckle. “I knew you would like this.” Your blissful face falls when you meet the man with the gentle voice. “Tom?” He walks towards you. “Shall I take your jacket?” He offers a hand and you stare at it. “No, I- I have- uhm a date.” You stutter and he pulls his hand back, watching as your eyes search for the way you came in. Your back is turned towards him when you realize there are no doors. “I’m aware you have a date. Since I’m your date.” Tom says dryly and you quickly turn around. “That can’t be. Daisy would never set me up with-” You fall silent when you look around the room and spot a perfectly decorated diner table, when you meet Tom’s eyes you see something you’ve never seen in his eyes, vulnerability.

“You didn’t know I was your date, did you?” Tom asks and you feel your heart sink. No of course not, no one I know would willingly go on a date with you. Tom doesn’t need an answer, he already knows and averts his eyes. “If you had known, would’ve come?” His voice is serious and yet filled with so much emotion. However, as soon as the question is out there he decides he doesn’t want the answer to that question either and reaches for his wand. “I’ll conjure a door for you.” Immediately you take a step towards him, making him lower his wand. “I honestly don’t know.” He examines your every expression as your eyes dart around in search of words. “Maybe I would’ve come, maybe not. I don’t know.” You chuckle and take another step towards him. “I wouldn’t have believed it. I mean you and I on a date, that’s ridiculous, who would come up with that.” You let out a short laugh. “I did, it was my idea.” Your eyes shoot up to meet his and you frown. “Why? We hate each other.”

Tom smiles and puts his wand away. He seems more relaxed and licks his lips. “You might hate me, but I definitely don’t hate you.” The surprise and confusion on your face makes Tom chuckle. “We have our differences, but I admire you.” You shake your head. “No, no, you’re Tom Riddle, you treat everyone like they’re less than you. You don’t organize sweet dates with.. uhm.. scented candles, and.. my favorite flowers and .. my favorite snacks-” You feel yourself get flustered as you notice every small detail is for you. “I treat everyone like they’re less than me, because they are.” You roll your eyes, but he ignores it and continues. “Except for you, your determination and consideration makes me believe you might be my equal.” There’s genuine admiration in his voice and you’ve never felt so recognised by anyone before.

You open your mouth to say something, but can’t find any words and just purse your lips, while staring around the room. “Can I have your jacket now?” He asks and after a moment of silence you turn your back towards him and let it slide down your shoulders for him to take. You take a few steps to the dinner table, before turning around to face Tom again who’s carefully scanning you down. When his eyes land on yours you tilt your head judging him for his staring and making him chuckle. “You caught me off guard. I’m used to you being beautiful, but tonight the English language fails to have a word that honors you.” Your lips part and your cheeks heat up. “Normal guys go for something like you look good or hot.” Tom nods and walks to one of the chairs at the table, moving it for you to sit. “And you wonder why I think they’re less than me.” You take a seat and shake your head at his words, but don’t argue with him.

Your eyes scan the table and you can’t believe how perfect it is. A small paper unfolds itself and announces the upcoming dishes and your eyes move to Tom. “A normal date would have sufficed.” You smile at him but he’s not pleased with your words. “I’m sorry if anyone ever made you feel like anything less than this should be enough for you.” You laugh nervously and lean over the table. “Are we on a date or are you courting me?” You whisper with a slightly amused smile, until you see his reaction. “Well, I’m an ambitious man, but I know where I stand so I’ll be patient.” At first you’re baffled by his honesty, but then you smirk. “There’s something about you Riddle men and having a serious amount of confidence, you’re different, but in heart you’re very much the same.”

Tom rolls his eyes. “I rather not be compared to him.” You laugh and he smiles as his heart warms seeing you happy. You notice the warm glint in his eyes and just know that tonight will be lovely.

***

“You know I have muggle friends.” You blur out as you’re both walking the wooden bridge in the direction of the castle. “I’m aware.” He says dryly, but still relaxed and sweet. You need to know his honest opinion, if you truly want to let yourself fall in love with him. “No one’s perfect.” He shoves his hands in his pockets, something you’ve rarely seen him do and you look away, feeling the disappointment squeeze your heart. “You despise me for it.” He says and you look up at him. “Yes.” He stops and so do you, there’s a soft silence as he looks at the water and you just look at him. “I believe I can convince you that my view of mudbloods is the right one.” His voice is stern, but not mean. It takes a moment, but to his surprise a smile tugs on your lips and you close the distance between you two. “I think I can turn your whole world upside down.” You whisper, while he stares you down and feels himself heat up at your closeness. “Cute, but-” You don’t let him continue and snake an arm around his neck, before leaning in and kissing him tenderly. When you break the kiss your eyes lock with his and you can feel his heart race. His arm wraps around your waist and he pulls you closer. Tom’s tongue moves around in his mouth as he’s obviously overthinking something. “Maybe.” He eventually admits, but it’s the smile that now creeps up your lips and your shiny eyes that make him seriously worry about how truly madly in love he is with you.

***

“How was the date?” Mattheo asks from his usual spot on the couch and Tom scans the empty common room. “You seriously stayed up to ask me how my date went?” Mattheo shrugs. “Well-” Tom starts, but immediately stops himself from talking about it. “I’m not telling you. We rarely talk and that’s not going to change. It was one date. It means nothing. I’m still the same person I was before this date.” Mattheo raises his eyebrows and tries to hide his amusement. “Sure.” Tom groans at his brother’s annoying attitude and turns around heading for his room. “Whipped.” Mattheo whispers, just loud enough for his brother to wonder if he actually heard that right, but he chooses to ignore his younger sibling and enters his room.

Word count: 2082

Feedback is always very welcome!

[rosemaryblossomworld]

The Second Queen (ch.1)

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!reader

Summary: 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝙿𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝙳𝚊e𝚖𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚣𝚢 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝙻𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝙷𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛, 𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎

Warning:: 𝚊𝚐𝚗𝚜𝚝, 𝚁𝚑𝚊𝚎𝚗𝚢𝚛𝚊 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎, 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛(?)

A/n: English is not my first language, there may be grammar problems, so...read at your own risk.

Chapter 2

GIFs

Everyone knows that Daemon Targaryen is crazy about his niece! Everyone can see that!

But is he looking at her right now? Noooo, he's looking at another flower that just appeared within the walls of this castle. Young Y/n Hightower walked around the courtyard and didn't know where to put herself. Alicent was standing next to the king, and the girl was not well acquainted with Rhaenyra. Rhaenyra had changed a lot, and she didn't want to get in her face.

Daemon watched the girl's tossing carefully, he wasn't listening to what his brother was telling him. He wanted to laugh heartily, watching the sweet and funny Y/n. She had always been like that. He remembered that. She hid behind her older sister, acting quiet and demure. But it seemed to Daemon that there was more to it than that. The girl was clearly hiding something inside herself.

"The weather is wonderful today," Daemon decided to walk over and speak to Y/n.

"Oh my prince!" she perked up "You're right, it is very warm today and I'm glad of it."

"Do you like warm weather?" The man walked past her, sitting down at the table and taking a goblet of wine in his hands.

"I love it! When the cold weather comes, I feel like I'm withering like flowers in a royal garden. I get so sad." the girl said and took the goblet of wine as well.

Daemon liked the way she spoke. Easy and casual. No playfulness, no fear, no vulgarity. Calm, outgoing, smiling. Daemon wondered how Otto could have such a beautiful daughter. The man wondered, if they married and had a daughter, was she just like her mum, or just like her dad?

Daemon grinned to himself again. He thinks like a fourteen-year-old boy who has fallen in love with the first girl .

The lords who saw the young Lady Hightower and Prince Daemon chatting involuntarily cast a glance at Princess Rhaenyra, who sat off to the side, bored. She occasionally cast her glance at her uncle, but her face expressed nothing.

"Look Daemon, it's the irises, they're so amazing," the girl ran around the garden dragging the prince behind her.

Daemon only smiled and followed the little lady.

"Does my lady like flowers? Which ones do you like best?" asked Daemon squatting down next to the girl.

"I like n/f," replied Y/n simply and quickly.

They moved over to a tree and sat under its crowns. Y/n told the prince about her day, occasionally distracted by the maids passing by. Damon only smiled.

"kepus!" came a voice from somewhere in the distance.

Princess Rhaenyra was approaching the pair. With a slightly annoyed mood. She hadn't reacted to her uncle's attitude towards the younger Lady Hightower, because she knew he would soon get bored of her. But it had been a week now, and her uncle had not visited her once.

"Princess," the Lady immediately stood up and bowed her head.

"Lady Hightower, shouldn't you be with the queen and serving her?" Rhaenyra immediately decided to point out the girl's place, for her place was next to traitors and liars.

Lady Y/n was dumbfounded at such a harsh behaviour of the princess, but what the girl definitely did not like was people who stick their noses where they are not asked. Clenching her fists, Y/n grinned:

"Princess, I'm not a servant. My sister has enough of them. My job is to enjoy my life and look for a potential suitor," the lady replied.

Rhaenyra blushed, coughed and looked at her uncle. There's that dreamy look again, but he's not looking at her, he's looking at the girl who first bared her teeth.

"Ao didn't visit nyke, uncle. Gōntan mirros massigon? ao promised nyke iā kipagon va se zaldrīzoti!" Rhaenyra pouted, feigning innocence (You didn't visit me uncle. Has something happened? You promised me a ride on the dragons!)

"Iksan mirrī busy bisa week. Ivestragī's gaomagon ziry another jēda, Rhaenyra," the man replied (I'm a bit busy this week. Let's do it another time Rhaenyra).

Rhaenyra was a little taken aback. She was about to hit the young Lady Hightower with her shoulder, but surprisingly the girl managed to dodge, causing Rhaenyra to trip over the hem of her dress. She didn't fall, but her ears lit up even more with shame.

"My lady, would you care to dine with me?" asked Daemon.

"My pleasure!" pronounced Y/n.

They began to walk slowly towards the castle, they were in no hurry, they had all the time in the world.

"You know Daemon, I dream of riding a dragon with you too," the girl said quietly, she turned to the measuring man and smiled at him, walking forwards.

Damon smiled even wider.

Y/n didn't realise how she'd ended up in that position.

She and Daemon had just decided to read a book about the Ancient Kings.

It all started when Daemon decided to play a prank and as soon as the book started to get interesting he just slammed it shut and lifted it up, and of course Y/n tried to get it. She jumped up so hard and pushed off Daemon's arm that he didn't keep his balance and fell off the chair. And Lady found herself in his lap.

"Gotcha!" exclaimed the girl joyfully, and made herself comfortable on his lap. "You've thrown me off my reading, now I won't be able to find the moment!" whimpered Y/n and turned away from Daemon, showing her back.

"Please forgive me, but you were so sweet, lady, I just couldn't help myself," Daemon frivolously hugged the girl from behind and rested his forehead on her shoulder.

"I wonder if there's ever been one king who loved his wife so much that he was willing to die for her? Reading all these stories, no one narrates the relationship of the royal consorts. And if they do, it's cheating, strife and jealousy. It's not even pleasant to read," the girl turned the page.

"I wish I could use my brother as an example, but..." Daemon rested his chin on the lady's shoulder.

"Yes.... if you were king, who would you want to choose as your wife?" the girl asked.

"What is it, little flower? You want to be my wife," smirked the man.

"Maybe. But then I'd want to be the only woman in your life. And if I found out you kept going to Silk Street...but I'd treat you to manhood and turn the brothel into a bloodbath," the girl smiled and turned to the surprised man.

All Daemon could do was close and open his mouth.

"Oh, what am I...so what's up with Aegon the Conqueror?" the girl changed the subject and sat down on the soft sofa next to the man.

And so for a month Prince Daemon and Lady Y/n danced between each other. It was already clear to the whole council and the king that the prince was very warm to the girl. So rumours of the wedding had already spread far beyond the Royal Lands.

Y/n walked around in high spirits as everything she had planned began to come true.

"Sister!" came Alicent's voice from the empty corridor.

"My queen," the lady bowed respectfully, preparing to listen to a lecture from her older sister.

"The rumours are growing. You must not see Prince Daemon. Father is furious, I'm amazed that he's holding back from screaming at you," The queen equalled her sister and they walked further down the corridor.

"He yells all the time, I'm getting tired of listening to him. And what if it's Daemon, he's a prince!" the girl resented.

"But his reputation," fretted Alicent.

"I don't care. I hear King Viserys is getting worse. Who knows what might happen," Lady Y/n sniggered and walked on.

"What?" The queen stopped.

"Viserys has not yet appointed Rhaenyra as his successor. Father is doing a good job, if this continues, Daemon will be king as a sibling. The council may be outraged, but he will have a short conversation with them," Y/n continued to explain.

"You...want to be queen?... "Alicent looked at her sister with fear.

"Why not? I'll just combine my desire to be queen and my desire to have the right man by my side. It's not all about you being on top of things," Y/n continued walking, ignoring her sister.

Alicent now understood why her father didn't scold his youngest daughter, she was so much like him. Cunning and secretive. Alicent became even more worried, she no longer knew the girl who was walking down the corridor. It wasn't her sister.

"What do you mean?" turned sharply to her faithful maid Y/n.

"They were seen in the brothel. Rumours have already spread through the castle and the prince has been dragged before the king, my lady" Tala looked worriedly at her mistress, so gentle yet strong.

"Sir Conyn is finding out the circumstances?" asked the lady turning away from the girl.

"Yes, he went there as soon as we heard. They were in the brothel, but it's not known if they were asleep or not," Tala continued her explanation.

"He can't, can he? I'm...boring him so much..." Y/n settled into a chair next to the fireplace.

"My lady...rumours of his love for the princess have been floating around the castle for a long time. It was said that he was obsessed with blood purity and that he wanted to have a 'pure' child," Tala said.

Lady Hightower sat holding back tears, then stood up.

"I'll go and hear what's going on over there," Tala didn't follow her Mistress, only bowed her head.

Her heart pounded frantically, the closer she got to the throne room, the more clearly the voices of the enraged king and prince could be heard. There were no guards and the door was slightly ajar, you could see the king pinning the prince to the ground and shouting some questions.

"Wed her to me?" came Daemon's voice.

"Who?" gasped Viserys, hoping his brother would say the name of the younger Lady Hightower.

"Rhaenyra...Wed her to me," Daemon said.

Y/n stepped away from the door. Breathing hard, her heart began to pound even harder.

"I thought so," came the princess's voice from the shadows, and then she stepped into the light.

"How long have you been standing here?" Lady Hightower didn't dare look into the princess's eyes; she didn't want to see arrogance and self-righteousness.

"Since the beginning. Just as I thought, my uncle doesn't care about you ladies, he will choose me. As the heiress to the throne, as the one that will give him children of pure blood," her voice was quiet but cutting at the deep wounds of her heart.

"Princess...You cried out about never marrying and that you didn't want to bear a child because otherwise you would be treated like an animal. What has changed?" Y/n shifted her tearful eyes to Rhaenyra.

Rhaenyra was once again taken aback. She had said those words at every corner, that she didn't want to be a 'laying hen', she wanted freedom. She looked into Lady Y/n's cold eyes and realised that she had changed herself for the sake of defeating her 'rival'.

The doors of the throne room opened. Guards dragged Daemon out. The man glanced at the two girls and his gaze darted to Y/n, but she paid no attention to him. She turned and walked further down the corridor.

"Y/n!" shouted Daemon, but the girl didn't turn around. He shouted once more, but was faced with silence and emptiness.

Daemon felt like he had crossed the line. Crossed it in everything. He looked at his niece, who was looking at him hopefully, but he only grinned and let himself be led away by the guards.

When he left King's Landing, Rhaenyra saw him off from afar. But he did not see the queen of his dreams.

And two moons later, the young Y/n Hightower left King's Landing, returning to Old Town.

[erenspussy420]

Two Face Pretty Boy (Neige)

Word Count 3.7 k

MDNI 18+ ONLY SMUT

FEM READER/ NEIGE LEBLANCHE, slight Reader/ Vil Schoenheit

Warnings: Dubious consent, vulgar language, phone call, light cucking

Tags: Alternate back story for Neige

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In the world of acting, one must always be in character to succeed. That was the first lesson.

No one really knows where Neige had come from. One day he just appeared at the orphanage alone and was drowning in a knitted sweater too big for him. He wore confusion like an old friend when he was left by the doorsteps, resignation of his new life came second like an uncle no one wanted to see.

Several days and several nights, Neige didn’t recall much of the beginning. Mostly it was a dark, grayed tone but always a shiny gleam of redness that glimmers in his dreams. All he can remember is a heavy hand that gently guided him to the door, his sweater being the only part of his life that wasn’t taken away. Mostly due to Neige tackling anyone who tried to pull it off of him.

It was the third day of May, when an apple was placed in front of him. Lucious and full of juices behind its bright waxy surface. The fruit a tempting shade of red, Neige had followed the apple on the outstretched hand, and up to bright yellow eyes that belonged to Hop. “You look hungry,” were the first words, followed by the kindest words Neige could remember,” Come sit with us.”

 Sometimes fate works in funny ways.

No one knows where he came from, neither did the dwarves, all seven of them. Neige is going to take what the world gave him with both arms and bare white teeth. He doesn’t remember his old life, but all it left him was the understanding that everything can be taken away on the whimsy of others. 

Perhaps that’s why he was ruffled haired, and dirty with ashes on his cheek, chasing off bullies from his new family. Dirty, but fed. One day they leave the orphanage quite young, opting on their own to get by. Better this way, Neige thought at the time, easier. It was not easier, he learned but he was molded by his tale.

A poor boy who cleaned homes with his seven brothers, no matter if he was human and they from dwarven blood, he worked himself to the bone washing filthy floor boards and defiling rotting gardens. His clothes were always tattered and drowning him in excess fabrics, and hunger gnawing at his belly. But as long as Grum cheeks were full, where Dominic didn't have to scurry for tape when his old glasses fell apart, or worry where Shelpie fell asleep at— whatever it took, no job was too much for him. Their dream, a wish made by Toby who tossed one of their coins into a rotting well, was to have a warm cottage in the woods. 

Ebony hair, skin white as snow and eyes like roasted chestnuts.

The day Florian's Wonder Talent Agency recruited him was the day Neige could finally breathe. Taking him and his brothers to a clean apartment, where the fridge is full and he can sleep easier at night.

Before he gets tossed to the wolves.

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"I'm gonna treat you like a whore." The sweet voice mutters. It sends sparks running down your spine as Neige sucks down on your neck , leaving his marks for anyone to see. He’s greedy, he wants everyone to know that you were his. Walking around printed on by his lips, his adoration comes covered under the night. As much as he would love your marks on him in turn, his agency would throw a fit at any blemishes on his skin.

Annoying, but that’s fine. He can have other things that tie you to him. His red ribbons in your hair with his initials, your school tie made into a bow he wears with his uniform. The world can do what they want, take a poor boy and make him a prince but it never really took what made Neige into the man he is.

His eyes, hard as flint when they took him under their hands. Become a prince for the public, sweet and gentle and innocent. The world adores Neige LeBlanche, and that version of him loves them right back.

All sweet smiles with closed eyes.

The crafted mask hides a two faced boy, a good heart always, but a sharp tongue and steely eyes framed with large lashes. Fair skin like snow, eyes like a doe, fluffy ebony hair, and those lips that were soft like rose petals. Soft pale pink lips that let slip the filthiest words from a sweet face. Not that anyone knows that ‘cept you and his actual friends.

(And perhaps Yasmin when he caught him with a cigarette between his lips)

 Your giggles end with a soft squeal when he nips harder, another love bite to the collection. Gods, he loves that noise you make. With a soft sigh, you relax in his arms as Neige makes his way to your collarbone. His hands run down your body, caressing your curves, and brushing over the sensitive spots he knew so very well. One hand massages your ass before squeezing a cheek.

“Missed me?,” came that cheeky smile he adores.

“Always princess.” 

His mood is much better, squeezing your flesh.

 Affectionate, he rubs the very warm spot where he marked you. A twinge of possession heats his core, desires her to take her again as much as he likes. Soft sighs between quirk firm kisses, and muffled moans. His tongue sweeps over his bottom lip, tasting the flavor gloss you like so much. Apples, his eyes flicker for a moment. 

You squirm, his grip on your ass a bit tighter.

Whoops, he has to be careful, it's not your fault, he’s being like this, nope. His mind a buzz, his hand sneaks itself over your thighs caressing the warm flesh. Neige was focused solely on you, but some recent scenes at his new film brought an unwanted guest. Eyes like Amethyst have no place near him. Your panties had been slid off, hanging pitifully around your ankle as he rubs over your folds, pressing on them feeling that pulse. Rather a really annoying, second hand model was. A tick pulsed on his head at the mention of his so called rival, but he has nothing to do with now. Or even with his dear love.

Oh yes, Neige made sure of that with such great pleasure.

He hums as he sucks on your nipples, swirling his tongue over the lovely bud.

The VDC was just for fun. Dominic and the rest of his brothers all wanted to have one big finale to their Sophomore year and who was Neige to deny them that? To be honest, it was like as if Neige killed two birds with one stone, he got to enjoy one more hurrah before his work life took over and he gets to fuck with Vil Schoenheit’s head one more time.

It's not like he hates Vil. But he sure as fuck didn't care about him either. Still, there was a part of him that did enjoy watching Vil’s smile strain at casting roles he passed up on mere inclination for a more gentle ‘look’.

Vil made a great mistake bringing you that day to the VDC. It felt invigorating, watching that perfectly crafted face finally break so openly, mauve painted lips twist with sour palatable envy. Retribution Neige believes, from making him a poisoned drink of apples. How dare he, was all Neige could feel that day. He couldn’t remember much from waking up, but the sensation. The sensation of his hand trembling as he reached for the tempting apple juice to bring to his lips. Never had his stomach twisted at the scent of apples in his life.  His revenge will come, one day.

And it did, literally in that same second you fell into his arms. The warmth in your eyes did more than make Vil soft on you. It brought back the twinge of gentleness back into Neige. Soot covered, messy with hair that came from a fight it was quite the sight to see. But under the layers of exhaustion that cling onto you like a second skin, Neige spotted a kindness in you that refused to die.

It reminded him of something.

Something good. 

“Mmm, damn princess look how wet you are,” Neige chuckles huskily, he pulls out to show you the strings of thick slick coating his fingers,” Mmm Look at that, so shiny how tasty.” He sucks his fingers, tongue swirling around so as to not miss a single strand.

Slim fingers slip you, exposing you to him, they were careful in their actions, but damn the pretty mouth from their owner is not. The fingers slip into your wet fold, parting them before slipping into you, rubbing you and stretching your walls adding more fingers as time goes on. He switches from rubbing your cute clit, to light pinches as his fingers curl into you. He even slaps your folds, enjoying the debauched way you thrust your hips up at him. You try not to moan too loud, but the sensation of being finger fucked is making you light headed. Neige curls his fingers in you, brushing the nerves that make you buck your hips into his hand wildly, a needy groan leaving your throat as he does. Watching your body suffer and tremble under him, soaking sheets with your juices slipping down your thighs.

He couldn’t help but slide his cock between your folds.. The pressure of his heavy cock between your folds brought a new wave of fluids pushed on by the pulse of your pussy.

An impish giggle escapes his parted lips, a heady darkness tints his eyes as he gazes at the scene of his cock being sandwiched, lathered up with slick by your folds. You shudder and little soft gasps escape with each brush of his swollen head catches her clit.

“Look at that,” he coos bending over her,” You love it when I do this don’t you?”

What a sinful expression you have on, your eyes screwed shut with that dopey smile as you pant his name. Neige can’t wait to have you warm his cock, he’s been denied you way too long. He swaps between his fingers in her walls and coating his cock with her cot slick. He needed you, he missed his sweet princess.

Those videos you sent him were not enough. Fucking his hand thinking of your tight cunt is nothing to the real you and Neige’s starving.

The wetness of his thighs brought his attention to your soaked pussy, laughing softly at the sight Neige cooed at his princess. “Look how wet you got for me! See how needy you are, your pussy practically sucking me in! You think you’re ready, my princess?”

He pressed taunting hot kisses, nibbling at your lips as you gasped out,"Yes."

“Yes what?” He asked.

Neige prodded your cheek with the tip of his tongue, a long stripe on your jaw. You shudder, a whine escaping you,”Yes, I’m ready!”

“Mm, I don’t know,” Neige pretended to mull over it, his eyes crinkled at the sight of that panicked look on your face when he pulled his hand away.” It doesn’t seem like it, haaa, oh well,” he drawls, the sweet smile grew pointed as traces her labia,” I guess it can’t be helped–”

“No come back!” You plead him, clinging onto an amused Neige,”Please fuck me!”

The grin on Neige’s face, the curves of his smiling benevolent eyes was downright wicked to the sight of you thrusting yourself back on his wet fingers. He chuckles, that sweet voice of his too lovely to be denied,” Beg my dove,” He coos taking his fingers away from the pulsing slick walls, he lines the head of swollen cock to  you folds rubbing his cock between them, lubing it in your slick. He grunts, tilting his head back as his cock begins twitching, being slicked up. He catches his bottom lip between his teeth, the corner of his lips grinning in satisfaction of how wet you are.

You bite back a squeal as the head of it catches your clit, making him laugh huskily. His tip pushes into your cunt, drawing a loud gasp from his princess. Her body shudders in glee being finally filled.

“Please! Please! Neige I need your co—,” a loud ring interrupts your begging much to the dismay of you and Neige. A scowling ‘tsk!’ cuts through your moaning, as he snatched the phone off the sheets. He pushes into you deeply, drawing a long raspy gasp as you arched up feeling his cock make itself at home. Her feet tapping against his back in jolts, usually he would love this but the text of words on the white screen made him still.

Even your pulsing walls, eager to devour him didn’t distract the way his body went taut seeing not what it was but rather whom it was.

Chestnut brown eyes hardened at the name that flashed across your phone. 

Vil

"Haaah~ What does the second best want?" the annoyance dripping in his sweet voice. His thumb is swiping through your phone. You bite back a whine, as his hips press into you. Even reading the texts from before, years of acting doesn't betray the stoic expression on his face. At the end, he scoffs.

Spider webbing cracks grown beneath his thumb.

You can feel the throbbing vein of his cock in you, as he laughs reading the text. The grip that held up your leg grew tight. "Pft, What's this?" he holds the phone up dangling it towards you to look."He is actually begging you to go out with him! I wonder, what does Second Best do, if he knew who was in you right now?"

You tense up at the sight of the texts, your name on display with a message from Vil. Scoffing Neige, changes it then angles down the phone at you, and you shake feeling the head of his cock hit the spot that made your legs feel jolt under him. No, focus! It's hard to keep your head grounded, not when he's keeping you on his lap, rocking his hips against you that has your toes curl in pleasure.

“I wonder if he would like to watch me fuck your brains out?” Neige thumb swipe the screen.

 "Mnn.. No, don't," you protest weakly, fingers digging into his shoulders, you close your thighs around his waist. Enjoying the rocking of Neige hips, focus…” Don’t send it…Neige!”

 Neige sighs, shaking his head at you with mock disappointment, he leans down, resting his head between the crook of your neck. Despite his sweet look, the hand that gripped your thigh, rubs it slowly, creeping towards the plush of your ass. "How would he feel seeing my cock in your pussy?"  Neige mouth kisses your neck, its distracting, as he questions you with each kiss becoming closer to nips,"Tell me, do you think  he'll lose it if he sees me fucking your pretty hole?"

Your phone tapping your shoulder much like a sickle on stone.

Images of Vil kissing you and Neige being the one to fill your pussy, swapping between them or Sevens having them spit-roast…–!

You try to keep the moan in at the sheer idea of it, Vil watching as Neige fucks you, but the throbbing between your legs gives you away. Neige laughs,"Oh? Do you want it? You want me to fuck you in front of him? Want to scream my name as I fill you with all my cum, while he watches?"

And Merlin, he pushes his cock into you with a deep thrust, his grip on your hip possessive. The sheer idea of it makes his toes curl. Getting to see the fury coated in desperation and heartbreak in Vil’s eyes would be worth it.

Cause if you do, then Niege will make sure Vil never gets to experience this, by the fair queen’s  hand in retaliation that meets the cold steel of a sickle—

"No, wait-!" Your protests fall, as Neige hands back to resting on your hips thrusting into you with a visceral primal claim. The sound of wet flesh fills the air. You squirm in his lap feeling all the shots of pleasure shock you, his thrusting has slowed leaving you to his mercy as he looks down on you with those dark brown eyes. His free hand caressed her jaw gently, the swipe of his thumb over her lips as he took her in with this expression that dashed away any anger he had over Vil. 

Serene almost.

 Then his smile ruined it, all sharp at the corners, his canines more prominent than the photos make it seem. The sweetness of Neige LeBlance was not there, but rather Neige the man who did many things to get where he is.

No one knows where Neige came from and he's more than fine with it.

“Neige?”  He smothers your voice under a kiss, tossing your phone to the side letting it bounce behind her head. Hot tongues play with each other, his princess’s mewling reverb in his chest as he keeps fucking her pussy into over stimulation. His grip on her thighs is strong keeping her in place as he takes her over and over. His balls smack her ass with every hard thrust into the sheets. 

“Mmmm Niege…Neige,” You pants, whimpering between kisses.

“That's it princess,” Neige muttered as he grinds into her,” Say my name. Say it nice and loud.” His fingers tug at her nipples, drawing mewls from her,” You sound so good princess. Who's making you…,” a low grunt leaves him as he speaks with hard thrusts,”...feel…so..ngh,” he squeezed her breasts as he plucked her nipples,” good. You squeeze me so fucking good.”

“Oooh Neige,” You groan, whimpering loud and clear.

His name fills the air with sweet mewls and cries, his smile growing with the matching pace of his thrusts meeting her own.

“Mmm you feel the way you squeeze me? Fucking love my cock,” Neige croons kissing and nipping along her jaw.

He loves loves how much her walls squeeze his cock, how her nails drag down his back. It felt so good, the way his muscles near his belly feel nice and tight. His knee digs into the mattress as he pulls her up on his thighs, to continue going deeper and grinding against the sweet nerves that made her spasm on his cock. His hand caresses her belly, heading lower and there, he presses down as his paces became shorter and desperate with the gaining of hitting that release.

Faint words register in your ear, faint but familiar. You can almost pinpoint it but it does when the head of Neige's cock buries itself in a bundle of nerves, her core desperately trying to keep him in. For a moment the world goes fuzzy as the tingling sensation melts into your skin. You don't know what brought Neige like this today, but you're grateful for it.

Neige, however, didn't feel quite ready to finish just yet. He grinds himself into her, slow and wretchedly cruel from letting her reach her peak. His head nudges between the crook of her neck kissing her up her jaw and over her ear. The action sweet melts her, but of course nothing sweet comes by itself in this world.

“Choose, Vil or me?,” Neige growls as he goes rougher pulling her closer, his ball aching to spill into his princess. Your eyes widen at the question, biting your lip as if to not say, but he isn't having that.

His hand slaps your pussy, finding your swollen clit as he runs hard swirls over it. A heavy gasp leaves you, the wet slickness between them drips more down her thighs.

“Who princess?,” Neige croons, his voice haunting her with the deep heat that grows in her belly.  He looms over her, his smile is wicked as his swirls become long slow sweeps of her sensitive nub,” Who do you want more than anything?”

Her legs jolt and thighs shaking as the fantasies roll in, chestnut eyes and mauve painted lips….

“Mmm that's..nnmm…good,” Neige grits his teeth with a hiss,” you want it that bad huh? But he doesn't get to have you, my sweet dove. Who's cock is in you? Who’s the one making you soaking wet?”

You tried to keep your voice down but you can stop the way your body twitches and seize,” Neige!”

Hot gushes of cum fill your cunt, the sensation making you pulse madly with greedy suction. Your chest rises with each harsh breath, drinking in air as much as you can as your skin cools. Above you, you barely could concentrate with Neige’s long deep grunt as he kept your thighs gripped tightly against him, determined to keep his seed from leaking. A vain attempt from the rivers flowing down your stomach.

Slowly you open your eyes,” Neige that was so good….Neige?”

You gaze up at your boyfriend to ask why he was so quiet and to come cuddle with you. However, spotting your phone in his hand your words die on your tongue.

“You didn't.”

Your words fall on deaf ears as Neige smiles shamelessly,” Did you get your answer?”. No words can describe the way your mouth feels open as realization hit you to who Neige could be speaking too.

Neige laughs as he hears the absolute venom from Vil, the words fall over him like water as he strokes your belly. Even as you shudder under him, his touch is gently rubbing down your calves and thighs.

“Neige, what are you…?” Your voice dies as Neige holds a finger up to his lips.

“So Schoenheit,” Neige drawls, beads of sweat fall from his chin onto your skin ,” how about it? Interested in one of the roles with our dear heroine? Who knows, I might consider giving you the starring role.”

[joelslastofus]

[SUMMARY: Preoutbreak: Sarah is in college and brings home a friend Joel is secretly attracted to.]

Smut, big age gap

“Don’t you worry, baby girl, you keep those pretty eyes on me, no one’s gonna see us.”

A few months into your freshman year in college you became friends with a girl named Sarah. She was sweet, funny and you both had many things in common. It was finally your first break after months of exams and papers and so you two planned to have a fun night out. Sarah had planned for you to go over her house that evening for dinner just so her father could meet who she would be hanging out with. She warned you about how her father would be asking many questions as any typical father would.

That night Sarah first introduced you to her uncle Tommy, he was friendly just as she had described him to be. Her father, Joel soon came out of his room meeting you all in the kitchen.

“There he is” Sarah spoke playfully greeting her father before turning to you.

“This is who I’ve been telling you about, please don’t scare her off” she whispered to him not noticing the way his eyes lightened up the second they landed on you.

“Nice to meet you, Mr.Miller” you smiled politely.

“Please hun, you can call me Joel” he stretched his hand out to you. Your eyes equally lighting up at the sight of him, you didn’t expect to be so attracted to him.

“You two studying the same thing?”

“Yes” Sarah quickly interjected.

“Just call me when the pizzas here” she quickly pulled you into her room as Joel and Tommy both watched you until you she closed the door.

“She’s cute” Tommy shrugged making Joel look back at him.

“College girls now huh?” Joel responded sarcastically before taking a sip of his beer and walking away. The only thing was, Joel thought you were cute too, hell he thought you were beautiful but he wouldn’t admit it.

“Pizzas here!” Joel called out to the room as you both came out laughing together.

“I want in on the joke” Joel said as he opened up the box of pizza.

“Sorry, dad you wouldn’t get it you’re the past the fourty mark” Sarah teased.

“Hahaha” Joel tone was playful before taking a bite of his pizza.

You sat across from Joel as you ate, you could see his eyes on you.

“So, what’s this party you lady’s are going to?” You looked at Sarah waiting for her to answer.

“It’s a club-“

“A club” Joel raised his brows.

Joel wasn’t used to his daughter partying much, in his eyes she was still his little girl.

“Yes dad a club, you know where women my age like to go and have some fun” Joel cleared his throat a little uncomfortable with the thought just because he knew what was out there. His eyes landed on you making your heart begin to race.

“Do you drink, hun?”

“Dad we’re twenty not fifteen!” Sarah interjected making Tommy chuckle.

“Sorry about that, my brother can be a little-“

“Overprotective” Sarah continued.

“It’s ok, my parents would be the same if they were still alive” your comment catching both men off guard.

“Oh it’s fine, it was when I was a baby. I don’t remember” a slight awkward chuckle escaped your lips followed by silence.

“I’m sorry, darlin’” Joel eventually spoke with sincerity.

You smiled at him and sighed.

“Well this pizza is delicious” you changed the topic quickly as they all agreed.

The next day you and Sarah planned to meet at her job and leave from there until she learned her shift was changed last minute. Sarah would be leaving work later than you and realized she forgot a pair of heels to change into. Last minute she asked if you could pass by her job to pick up her house keys in order to get her shoes for her. It was already eight o’ clock and you were dressed ready to go thinking she would be out earlier.

“Don’t worry, no one’s home you can just walk in and grab my black heels in the closet then we’ll go once I’m off the clock.” She explained over the phone as you pulled up in front of her house.

Once you hung up you entered her house and quietly walked towards her bedroom when you suddenly heard the bathroom door open before you could reach her door. You gasped to see Joel walk out of a steamed room with only a towel around his waste.

“Mr.Miller-oh my gosh-“ you froze unable to move as your eyes wandered down his wet chest before you caught yourself.

“I’m so sorry, I thought no one was here” you quickly looked away as he stood caught off guard himself. In a panic not knowing what to do with yourself, you didn’t notice the way he was looking at you. A black mini dress that flattered your curves, a touch of cleavage giving a peak at your plump breasts, Joel cleared his throat quickly looking away.

“Is there something you need?” He asked covering up his reaction with an irritated tone.

“I’m sorry, Sarah asked me to come by and pick up her black heels for her because she’s coming out of work later, I-“

“Well go on,” he cut you off just trying to get you away from his view before you could notice how hard he was about to be. Quickly running to her bedroom your heart raced as you checked her closet and didn’t find no damn shoes.

“Dammit, Sarah!” You whispered just hoping to finally leave from there. On your knees you checked under her bed not knowing Joel stood at the door way with the very heels you were looking for.

“Come on” you whispered reaching farther into her bed giving Joel the perfect view of your ass cheeks slightly peeking through beneath your dress. Joel stood still silently taking the sight before him, if you were someone else he would’ve taken you in the hall in that very moment….but you were his daughters friend…hell you were only twenty years old.

“Shit” you whispered as you stood up when the sudden sound of Joel’s voice made you jump.

“Looking for these?” You turned to him to still find him with his wet hair slick back, your lips parting but you couldn’t find the words to say.

“Sweetheart” he tilted his head dangling the shoes off his fingers.

“Oh-um yes” you walked towards him silently taking the shoes off his hand as he took a quick glimpse at your cleavage before you could notice. His damp skin glistening from the light in the hall, the two of you trying your hardest to keep your eyes off each other…to keep your hands off each other.

“I better go” you smiled nervously as he nodded still at the doorway. Slowly you slid by him, your breast accidentally brushing up past his arm as you practically ran to the door. Joel stood in silent watching as you walked out and closed the door shut.

“Oh my god” you whispered as you rushed starting your car and driving off as fast as you could.

“You ok?” Sarah asked as she sat in the passenger seat rushing to put on her heels.

“Yeah why?”

“I don’t know..you look weird” she looked at you with a raised brow.

“No I’m fine, let’s just get going”

“Ok, you’re sleeping over my place tonight right?” She asked as she put on her seatbelt.

“What?” You almost jumped at the question.

“Remember? You said you’d sleep at my place after? Girl what’s wrong with you? You definitely need a drink.” She chuckled before you pulled off into the road.

The whole night out dancing you enjoyed yourself yet you couldn’t stop thinking about Joel. You were anxious to see him that night, a part of you wanting to while the other half of you wanted to hide away from embarrassment. Sarah ended up drinking a little more than you did to a point where she began to stumble.

“My fathers….gonna kill me” she slurred.

“Don’t worry, lets eat something and get you home.” By the end of the night you had drank so little that you sobered up in time. Sarah was mumbling away things that you couldn’t understand as she walked beside you before getting into the car.

“Are you feeling a little better?” You asked Sarah twenty minutes into the drive.

“Yes, I just want to shower and get into bed” she sighed. Once arriving Sarah seemed to be a little more steady on her feet thankfully, quietly walking beside you she looked through her window to see Joel on the couch.

“Great, he was probably waiting up for me. He’s on the couch watching a movie” your heart sunk not expecting to see him the moment you walked through the door.

Joel looked over hearing the door unlock and watched as you both quietly walked in.

“Wasn’t expecting you two back for another hour” he leaned forward as he noticed you struggled to look him in the eye.

“Hi Mr.Miller” you whispered before finally looking up at him, the two of you locking eyes for just a moment.

“Hey dad, we’re just exhausted. Gonna head to my room, we’ll talk in the morning.” Sarah spoke with a groggy voice as Joel stood up and watched you both walk past him. His eyes couldn’t help but look at your back side when you suddenly looked back at him and caught him checking you out. He quickly looked up yet didn’t say a word, what could he say? Looking away you walked into Sarah’s room and closed the door.

“My uncles probably knocked out already, I’m sure my dads gonna sleep now that I’m home. If you don’t mind I’m gonna shower I reek of tequila.” You laughed and began to take off your make up. You could hear Joel saying goodnight to Sarah as she walked to the bathroom, the sound of Joel’s bedroom door closing before she started her shower.

With a sigh you changed into your oversized shirt still thinking about how Joel looked at you today. Maybe it was all in your imagination, why would your friends father look at you this way?

Sarah warned you she would take a while in the shower and you could feel your stomach rumbling for something small having barely eaten that day. Hesitantly you opened the door to a dark living room and no one around. Tip towing into the kitchen you turned on a small lamp searching for something to eat when you found some chocolate chip cookies.

“Yes” you whispered taking a bite into one with a satisfied sigh. Joel silently made his way out of his room and found you in the kitchen with your back to him. Once again he found himself with the beautiful view of your legs, Joel couldn’t understand this attraction he couldn’t ignore. He knew it was wrong to look at you this way but he found it harder and harder to stop himself.

“Enjoying that cookie huh?” Joels voice made you jump as you turned to find him leaning on the door way with his arms crossed. He wore a navy blue shirt with grey sweat pants that you of course noticed traced the print of his manhood perfectly.

“I didn’t hear you come out, I thought everyone was asleep”

“I’m sorry, darlin’ did I scare you?” He stood up straight and began to walk towards you.

“No, not at all. I just-“ you became distracted with the way he was looking at you listening carefully to what you had to say.

“Look about today, I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were home and-“

“Mhm” he nodded as he continued walking towards you to a point that you began to back up.

“If I would’ve known that you were going to walk out like that-“ you noticed Joel cornered you back against the kitchen counter, his body close enough to where you had no where to go.

“Mr.Miller…” you whispered noticing his eyes wandered to your lips.

“Mhm” he looked back up with eyes that you found to be so dreamy you could melt. It was as if he didn’t notice how close he was to you or maybe he did and he didn’t care.

“I um…” you found yourself at a loss for words when he slowly and unexpectedly placed his index finger under your chin angling your face towards him leaning in and kissing you. In that moment you felt something explode within you, your body feeling as if it was lifted up off the ground before you slowly pulled back.

“Mr.Miller..Sarah-“

“I know” he interrupted in a husky voice.

“This isn’t right” you whispered.

“I know” before you could say another word he leaned in again kissing you passionately..this time you didn’t stop him. His hands held your waist and he kissed you more eagerly, a trail of kisses leading to your neck, he felt your body sink against his.

“What are we doing?” You whispered but he didn’t say a word, his lips covering yours when you felt his erection poking against your pelvis. Joel couldn’t control himself any longer, he pushed his pants far enough where his cock was exposed and lifted up one of your legs. The head of his cock brushing against your soaked underwear, he could feel the heat from your pussy calling for him. Joel looked down at you as he pulled your underwear to the side, allowing him to enter. You held your breath at the first feel of his cock beginning to enter you, grabbing onto his shirt tightly. With a crease between his brow Joel kept his eyes on you feeling how aroused you were as he fully entered with a quick thrust.

“Mr-Mr.Miller..” you gasped feeling how big he was inside you. He didn’t say a word, slowly thrusting into a rythm that made you drip down his cock. His eyes never left yours as he fucked you, he knew he shouldn’t have been doing this but it felt so fucking good. You could hear Sarah still in the shower, you couldn’t believe what you were doing. How the hell did you end up having sex standing up with your friends father in the kitchen.

Joel held your leg up leaning his face now against your neck as his breathing grew heavier. Your eyes rolling back with your fingers through his curls, you moaned with him beginning to thrust harder.

“Fuck” he lifted his head as sweat built up making his curls stick to his forehead.

“That feels so good” you whispered breathlessly looking up at him as if you were begging for more.

“It do, don’t it?” He grunted before leaning in to kiss you again. He moved faster as your nails dug into his shoulder blades with each deep stroke.

He caught you looking over his shoulder afraid Tommy would come out at any point.

“Don’t you worry, baby girl, you keep those pretty eyes on me, no one’s gonna see us” he panted.

You nodded trusting his word.

Joel continued to push harder almost making you lose your balance on one foot. You gasped but he held you in place not letting you move.

“I got you, darlin’ you’re not going anywhere” he assured you. You moaned feeling his balls slap against you when an unexpected squeal left your lips as he abruptly pulled out and came hard.

“Fuck” his cum dripping down his hand onto the floor. You gasped leaning back onto the counter as you watched him finish off when the sound of the water being shut off distracted you.

“Shit, she’s coming out-“

“Fuck” Joel still out of breath rushed cleaning up as you ran to the room with your heart racing. Minutes later Sarah entered to find you pretending to be half asleep in bed.

“Sorry I took long” she sighed.

“It’s ok” you sat up wanting to rush to the bathroom.

“Just gonna wash up quick and get back to bed” she nodded and lay back in her bed ready to fall asleep.

That night you and Joel couldn’t sleep, awake in your own beds thinking about what you had just done. Joel had never done anything like this before, not with a friend of his daughters.

What the hell would Sarah think?

Then Joel thought about what must’ve been going through your head. Here you were cornered by a man twice your age and seduced, the last thing he wanted was to make you feel uncomfortable in any way.

The next morning you and Sarah came out to find Tommy had made eveyone a big breakfast. Joel sat at the table as you sat next to Sarah.

You couldn’t look up, your face down staring into your plate the whole time while Joel couldn’t help but glance at you any chance he could get.

“So how was your night ladies?” Tommy asked making you look up.

Oh your night was just great, an unexpected quickie with your friends father but that’s all. You couldn’t help but think sarcastically to yourself.

“It was fun just never drinking tequila again” Sarah chuckled.

“How about you” Tommy asked you but you weren’t paying attention.

“Hey” Sarah nudged you catching your attention.

“What was it, sorry” You smiled awkwardly at Tommy.

“I asked how was your night, how’d you like tequila?”

“Oh no, I barely drank” Joel looked at you as he ate his eggs.

“Oh so she’s a good girl, maybe you can learn a thing or two from her, Sarah” Tommy teased.

“Uncle Tommy, you shouldn’t talk” she teased back.

“Alright alright, got me there” Joel noticed your mind wander off again as Sarah and Tommy laughed together.

“Hey, you’re off today right?” Sarah looked at you.

“If you want we can do our nails, I got some new colors in my room and-“

“I um-sorry, I can’t. I have to go, I have um-I have somewhere to be” Sarah noticed how strangely you sounded but didn’t question anything in that moment.

“Ok another time is fine” she shrugged.

Joel felt guilty noticing how you were acting and was trying to find a way to speak to you without anyone knowing. As Tommy stayed busy on the phone in his room and Sarah watched a movie in hers, Joel caught you on your way out.

“Hey” he walked towards you by the door before you could open it.

“You alright?” He looked down at you in concern as you looked down at the floor.

“I’m fine”

“Listen, hun I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I shouldn’t have-“

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable. I wanted it as much as you did, Mr.Miller” you looked up at him, your words surprising him.

“That’s why I need to leave…I can’t do this. You’re my friends father and-it felt so good but-“

“But what-“

“I have to go” you quickly walked out not being able to say much more. Joel watched you get in your car wondering if he would see you around again…hoping he would…