#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.

Join my taglist HERE

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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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[staysdelulus]

Bang Chan - Corrupted

--Boyfriend Chan and Inexperienced Reader--

Summary: Chan's been feeling it, and after being in a relationship with you for a while, he's ready to initiate intimacy. Only if you agree, of course (you certainly did).

Warnings: fem!reader, fingering, oral (fem!receiving), pinv, penetration, etc.

WC: 1.6k

--

You knew nothing. Nothing about sex. He had laughed it off when he first heard you talking about it, thinking you were joking, but the way you had looked at him, your eyes so soft and curious… he knew at that moment, you weren’t lying.

Sex? Isn’t that just… putting your dick in there and then… yeah. The way you had said it was so funny, too, he nearly laughed. But he also nearly took you right then and there. He wanted to corrupt you, and he knew the perfect time would be coming soon. The holiday season.

Dec. 24

The two of you were at your family's party, some uncle’s house with heaps of food and lots of sweets. Presents wrapped in brown grocery bags piled in front of the tree as everyone gathered around. Chan, a long-time boyfriend now, had joined, greeting your cousins, aunts, uncles, and everyone else who was there.

As you sit together on the ground, he pulls you in his lap, resting his head on your shoulder, humming as he wraps his arms around your waist. Squirming slightly in his lap, he tenses slightly, feeling the slight bulge forming already. Your words ring in his mouth again, and he has to use everything within him to not fuck you right then and there.

Luckily, it was your turn for White Elephant now, and he had the chance to compose himself before you would be back. As the hours passed, he knew he couldn’t do it today. It was late, 12:45 AM, nearly 1 in the morning, when you two left.

By the time you were back, you were too tired, kissing Chan tiredly before falling asleep in his arms. He kisses your forehead softly, before closing his eyes. It can wait, Chan. It can wait.

Dec. 25

“Merry Christmas!”

This time, you were with Chan’s family for dinner. Chan had gotten you two there early, his mother engulfing you in a hug while his father waved from the grill. Chan had tugged you with him to his room,  and you had followed, blissfully unaware of his intentions. As you sat down, he pushes you back on the bed, straddling you as he kisses you, your eyes widening before you comply, body relaxing under his touch as he deepened the kiss.

He pulls away softly, eyes meeting yours, your chest heaving as you gasped for breath. “Chan? What-”

“Lamb’s ready!”

The call from Chan’s father rings out, and Chan holds back a groan before he pulls himself up and away from you. The whole time, he’s horny. Extremely horny. His hands don’t stop touching you, whether it’s his hand fluttering against yours, his touch flickering to your thigh, holding you there before his hand left and touched a different part of you.

That night, when you arrive home, it’s late. But not too late.

“Thank you for the presents again, Chan,” you say softly, smiling as he kisses you gently.

“Of course, baby. Thank you, too,” he says. Before you can reply, he continues. “I have one more present for you.”

Your brows raise, eyes wide. “Oh, Chan, you don’t-”

“I’ve been thinking about… moving further into our relationship.” Bang Chan’s words come out of his mouth before he can stop them, your eyes widening at the implication. “You mean… Is that why you asked me about sex?”

Chan nods, a deep flush moving to the tips of his ears as he speaks softly. “I don’t want to push you to do anything you don’t want to do, but I just… I wanted to ask.”

Your eyes search his for a second, before nodding. “Okay.”

He freezes, reality suddenly hitting him. “Are you sure? We don’t have to-”

“Just be gentle,” you whisper. “Please?”

Chan nods quickly, his hands guiding you to the bed. “I will. Tell me to stop if you need me to, okay? I’ll go slow.” God, I’m going to fucking corrupt you, Y/n.

Chan begins to kissing you slowly, straddling you as he climbed over you, kissing you deeply. His hands move to the supple flesh of your breast, gently kneading the small mounds, his hands trailing under your camisole top.

As he cups your breast, his fingers nip at your nipples, feeling them satisfyingly harden as you gasp, whimpering as his lips left yours to trail down to your jaw.

“Up,” he murmurs softly, tapping on your bare shoulder. As you do, he pulls the top off of you before tugging off your bra. Kissing your shoulder, his lips trail down to the mounds, sucking on one as his hand played with the nipple of the other.

“Channie, f-feels g-g-good,” I whimper, my eyes wide. He grins against your breast, his hand moving down to your thighs, sliding up your pants as he strokes your inner thigh.

“I know, baby,” Chan murmurs, bringing himself up on his elbows and placing a kiss on your nose. Before he brings himself down. His teeth tug on the waistband of your shorts. Tugging them off, his eyes widen. “Y/n- what- you’re not wearing panties?”

You flush slightly. “Sorry, is that a bad thing?”

He shakes his head. “No, no, no, baby. You- why?”

You shrug. “I took a shower and forgot to bring some, so I just…”

As you flush, he just laughs, a low rumble as his breath lingers on your skin. He places a kiss on your inner thigh, lips trailing closer and closer to your core. You eyes are wide. “Chan, what are you doing?”

“Oh, baby,” he murmurs softly, placing a kiss on the sensitive bundle of nerves as you gasp at the sudden feeling. “Just relax, baby. Okay?”

“Okay,” you whimper, your eyes wide as you lean back. That’s when his tongue swipes against your core, right through the folded lips. Your hand falls to his curls, eyes flying wide open as you gasp. “Chan!”

He doesn’t stop. Not at all, his lips sucking on your clit, licking your entrance, his thumb moving to your clit every time his tongue left it, your hips bucking as you whimpered, moaning his name, the sounds rolling off of you naturally. You could feel a pressure rising in your lower abdomen, sniffling.

“Baby, gonna stretch you out,” Chan mumbles. His lips pucker up onto your clit again, fingers pushing into you slowly. He starts with one finger, pushing in inch by inch. “Fuck, you’re so tight, baby.”

You whimper, panting slightly at the overwhelming feeling, your core clenching his finger desperately. “Ch-Channie-”

“Sh, baby, let go for me,” Chan murmurs, his tongue swiping against you once more right as you come, crying out as everything within yourself releases.

You squirt. Right onto his face, his eyes rolling back as he licks you clean. Your eyes meet his, wide as you gasp. “Chan, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“That was good,” he murmurs, gently reassuring you. “That was amazing, baby. Don’t apologize, hm?”

You nod, eyes watering from coming down on your high before he moves himself up, balancing himself on his elbows, kissing you deeply, the taste of you falling into your mouth. As Chan pulls away, he gently rubs your clit again, your hips bucking as you whimper, crying softly at his touch. “Sh, sh, baby. Don’t cry, hm?”

He kisses you again, his voice soft. “Gonna take care of you, okay? Remember?”

He grins as he repeats your words. “I’m going to put my dick in there, and then… you know?”

When you turn your head away with embarrassment, Chan tilts your chin back towards him. “Hey, baby. Look at me. I’m going to make you feel good, okay?”

You nod, but speak when he taps your jaw. “Yes, Channie.”

“Good girl.” His praise makes something in you twitch, your core clenching as his thumb continued to rub against you. Gently, he aligns himself with your entrance, before pushing in. And fuck. You’re tight.

Extremely tight, more than he had expected, every after fucking you with his fingers. Cock throbbing, he pushes himself in slowly, holding himself back from thrusting in and just pounding into you until he came over and over again. As you adjust and stretch, he checks in with you before beginning to thrust. Slowly, yet building speed and momentum.

“Chan-” your gasps get shorter and shorter as you whine, tears pricking your eyes at the beautiful sensations you were feeling.

He doesn’t stop. Not even when you reach your high, sobbing and whining and writhing. Just holds you down, one hand flat on your stomach, the other pushing down a leg. He continues, fucking you until he comes, thrusting through his pleasure.

And when you think he’s done, he starts again. Over and over again. Completely, utterly, obsessed.

With the way you looked, coming for him, eyes rolling back, lips parted as you sobbed in pleasure and desperation, unable to take it yet being such a good girl for him. With the way his cock could just push into you, your pussy forever clutching him. He doesn’t stop until even he can’t move anymore.

“Baby?” he murmurs softly. “You okay?”

You manage to weakly nod. He shifts his body against you, holding you as he kisses away the tears on your face. “Get some rest, baby. I’ll clean us up, okay?”

Managing to nod again, he kisses your eye, your temple, your forehead, your nose, your lips, before he just holds you, letting you fall asleep. This wouldn’t be the last time the both of you would be intimate. That much was for sure.

-

The next day, Chan finds a text from you, a smile tugging on his lips. I guess sex isn’t just a dick in there. I’m still damn sore, Chan.

Chan grins cockily before replying. It won’t be the last time you’re sore, baby.

[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

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

masterlist ᡣ𐭩

[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!

❤️my masterlist

🦋find me on ao3!

🌟add yourself to my taglist!

“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.

❤️

[shadowuponstorm]

You're Gonna Get Us in Trouble

Reader is the newest member of the 118 and is a huge rule follower. So what happens when her secret relationship almost comes to light when a certain Diaz can't keep his hands off of her? Oh, did I mention that the reader is Bobby Nash's niece?

I'm not sure if this should be a warning, there are some spicy sentences (regarding f!oral receiving and squeezing of the ass), but they don't qualify this as smut fanfic, in my opinion! If I'm thinking incorrectly, please tell me in the comments or message me.

I woke up to the sound of my phone vibrating on the nightstand. Reaching my hand over, I turn the phone towards me to see the contact name, "Uncle Bobby," taking over the whole screen. I silently curse before answering with a "Morning, Uncle Bobby. Did you need something?"

"Sorry to be waking you up before shift, but I was wondering if you could run by the store to grab some essentials for me," Bobby says as I feel the other body beside me starting to move.

"Yeah, sure. Do you have a list?" I asked as I felt a pair of lips kissing a trail behind my ear and then stopping at the one spot that makes me shiver, "Actually, can you text it to me? I still got sleep on my mind to remember all of it."

Once Bobby told me that was completely fine, I hung up the phone after we exchanged love you. I turned to face Eddie and slapped him on his bare shoulder before scolding him, "He could've heard you!"

"It was worth the risk," Eddie said as he leaned closer to kiss me, "When are we eventually going to tell people?"

"It's bad enough that he keeps overhearing Buck talk about the bruises on my neck. It's going to become worse if he finds out I'm dating one of his 'boys' after he warned me not to," I respond as I sighed before telling Eddie it will be soon.

Eddie and I have been dating for six months, which has been the best months of my life. He has all the qualities that make him amazing, sweet, funny, always knows how to take care of me when the situation calls for it, and he's attentive.

"Amor, keeping us a secret has to be eating away at you. It can't be good for you," Eddie whispered as I remind him how I'm a follower and nobody expects me to start bending the rules just because I'm dating a fellow firefighter, "Well, I've got an idea that will help keep your mind off of it."

"Edmundo, no, we only have 15 minutes before we have to report for a shift," I said as Eddie smirked before pushing up the shirt I was wearing, making my lace panties come into view.

"I only need 8 of those minutes," Eddie whispered while his head disappeared under the covers as his fingers trailed my underwear down my legs before moving them back up to spread my folds.

"Eddie-" I started to laugh before letting out a moan from feeling his tongue enter me and I run my hand through his hair before balling into a fist to pull at it, which in turns, makes him groan out into me.

Let’s just say, it took exactly 7 minutes and 20 seconds for Eddie to make me come from just his mouth. After I “finished”, we got our showers, put on our uniforms, and left my apartment in our separate vehicles before he heads to the station while I head to the store.

“Wow, your mystery man certainly is a leech,” I hear Buck shout as I rush over to him and slammed my hand over his mouth before telling him to shut the fuck up.

“Is this the same guy or a different one?” Howie asks as I explained to him that I’m not that type of girl, “I’m just saying, no judgment here. Buckaroo here knows what it’s like.”

“Hey, come on, that was years ago! I’ve now since quit that,” Buck complains as I laugh and told him that I knew that he has since changed his ways.

I head over to my locker and started putting my stuff in there before I feel someone tap my shoulder and whisper, “Why is Diaz on your shirt?”

“Wait what?” I asked in a panic as I try to look in a mirror before I hear Hen laughing and I groaned before saying “Real funny, Hen.”

Hen is the only one who knows about mine and Eddie’s relationship, since she caught the two of us getting a little too close for comfort at an event for the department. Turns out, she has a bet going with most of the boys that Eddie and I would end up together so she offered to keep the secret if I help her win.

“So, you were a little late this morning, I take Eddie took his sweet time?” Hen teases, making me laugh before explaining that Bobby called asking for me to grab some essential for lunch or dinner, “Wait, did Bobby hear him?”

"Almost, can you imagine how embarrassing it would be if my uncle has heard his niece ‘getting some loving’?” I said as Hen snickers and starts to laugh before I smack her arm, harshly whispering, “It’s not that funny!”

“What’s not funny?” I hear Uncle Bobby asked, so I swiftly responded nothing before he gives me and Hen a concerned look.

“She was just telling me about how she’s embarrassed she burnt herself with the curling iron again,” Hen responds as Bobby shook his head and said “You’ve been getting quite a lot of those bruises lately, try to be careful next time alright?”

“Of course Uncle Bobby,” I told him as he walks away, before I turned my attention back to Hen, “I’m going to murder Eddie.”

Hen laughs again as she walks away towards upstairs, leaving me alone in the locker room. A few minutes go by before I hear the door open and footsteps enter.

“Hola Amor,” I hear Eddie whisper in my ear as I feel his hand move down to my ass to squeeze it.

“Eddie,” I warned him while I reached back and removed his hand, “You’re gonna get us in trouble.”

Eddie then moves me around, facing him before putting his hands on my hips and whispering, “With who? Everyone’s upstairs and we’re alone.”

“Even if they are upstairs, this room is like a glass house,” I whispered back as Eddie shook his head and leans in to give me a kiss.

“You worry too much, maybe your uncle will be happy you finally found a handsome man who swept you off your feet,” Eddie says, making me smile, before he continues with, “And maybe he won’t be too mad that his two firefighters happen to be dating.”

“You don’t understand how overprotective Bobby can get, especially about family,” I respond before sighing, “Ever since he’s lost his wife and kids in that fire, he’s been beating himself up mentally. Heaven forbid, something happens to me, to Athena, to May, to Harry, to anyone in the fire family under his watch, I fear he’s could go back into that spiral that made him fall off the wagon.”

“While I can’t exactly say I’ve been in your shoes witnessing that part of Bobby, I do know what it’s like to be overprotective about someone you love,” Eddie says and before I could say I know he’s meaning Christopher, he continues, “I never told you this but before I was to re-enlist to provide money for Christopher’s medical bills, Shannon left us to go take care of her mother. She begged me to go with her, but all I was focusing on was making sure I could give Christopher everything he wanted or needed. She called me selfish for doing so.”

“Edmundo Diaz, nothing about you is selfish. Your son was born with complications and has cerebral palsy so he’s bound to have medical expenses at some points of his life. That kid is so lucky to have you as his father and don’t forget, you had an army standing right behind you helping you out with whatever you needed while you were working various jobs to sustain a living,” I reminded him, which made him give me the biggest smile I’ve ever gotten from him, before he kisses me again, but this time with passion.

“Damn it!” We heard someone shout before we pulled apart and jerked our heads to the sound, Buck.

“Pay up gentlemen,” Hen says as Eddie and I exited the locker room, “Thanks to you two, I’m now $40 richer.”

“How long has this been going on?” Chimney asks before glancing his eyes over to my uncle.

“Are you mad?” I asked, nervous for his reaction since like I told Eddie, he’s overprotective about family.

Bobby then starts making his way downstairs and walks toward me before pulling me into a bear hug.

“There is no way I could be mad about my niece being happy with the man she loves,” Bobby says before I squeezed him back, “But really, how long have you two been together?”

“6 months,” Eddie and I both said before Buck asked if Christopher knows, which prompts Eddie to answer with, “He knows, he’s been very excited about the two of us.”

“When did you tell him?” I asked, curious how Christopher has managed to keep the secret.

“He actually drew a picture of the three of us and when I asked him why he included you, he said you were like a second mom to him. Always there when he needed you or there if he wants to talk to you. He also had suspicions when he saw my contact name for you on my phone,” Eddie responds, making me laugh before I ask him what it is.

Eddie takes his phone out of his pocket and pulls up the contacts before scrolling to the name he has for me, which made my heart melt.

“Mi Amor Por Siempre, which translates to ‘My Love Forever’ in English,” Eddie explains as I try not to cry about the meaning in front of everyone.

“I wonder what your contact name is for him,” Buck pipes up as I laugh at the random outburst.

“Mi Soldado, my soldier,” I said, making Buck confused and he then asked me if it would’ve made more sense for it to be my firefighter, “Eddie may be a firefighter, but he was a soldier first. Still is even if he’s in a different profession, he soldiered through single parenthood, war, and especially soldiered through fire. I couldn’t be any more prouder of him.”

“Now you two are perfect for one another,” Hen says as Eddie dips me and kisses me, making everyone hoot and holler at the scene.

Suddenly the alarm rang and the voice came on to tell us where we were needed. While everyone is hustling and bustling to get ready to leave the station, Eddie whispered, “That wasn’t too bad, was it?”

I smiled before saying, “Definitely not,” as I put my hand in his and we start racing toward the truck, with not a care in the world who’s watching us be in love anymore.

[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.''

[paulyenvol6]

Bound by Flame (Chapter 6)

Contains: rape, non-con, dub-con, smut, p in v, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving), fingering (f receiving), breeding kink, degrading, begging, edging, incest, manipulation, slight aftercare

Wordcount: ~4.78k

Masterlist of this story

Maera had lost a feeling for the passing time.

She could only roughly estimate the time of the day and thought that it might be around 9 or 10 in the evening because of the level of the sun. It had grown dark and meanwhile she had grown desperate.

The whole afternoon she had spent sitting on the bed, walking aimlessly around the room, staring out the window and browsing the book shelfs. And though she had passed some time by getting lost in a history book she had managed to find, it couldn't entertain her for the whole rest of the day.

At some point her eyes hurt and she couldn't ignore her headache any longer so Maera had had to put down the book and find another activity. Around two hours ago a servant had brought her something to eat, a plate of bread and meat as well as something to drink and she hadn't been quick enough to put a feet between the door so she had merely enjoyed the food in the darkness of her room.

She was bored now and just wished she at least knew what Daemon had in mind. How long would he keep her in here? Would he treat her like a captive now and would he even return to their chambers? The latter turned out to be answered soon because suddenly, while Maera was leaning against the table, juggling with three oranges, she heard steps outside and a person turned the key in the lock. She put the fruit back on the table at once and then her uncle entered the room. He definitely looked softer now which gave her some relief and then their eyes met.

"Did they bring you any food?" She nodded.

"Good."

Maera's gaze followed him while he walked to sit on the edge of the bed and exhaled loudly.

"Come here. Sit on my lap, little one."

He tapped on his thigh a few times and his niece gulped but then pushed herself away from the table. She nervously chewed on her lower lip and yet obeyed him when she reached him. Mainly because she found that doing as she was told was the easiest way to handle the situation. Daemon had made clear that he would punish her if she wouldn't do as he commanded and she didn't want to be locked in here for another day. So Maera lowered herself to sit on his thighs the wrong way around and his hands held her hips gently.

"Good girl.", he praised and really seemed content with her because his face looked kinder and merciful now.

"I brought you something.", he then stated and only then did his niece notice the basket he had carried with him. It was made of wood with a scarf covering it. He heaved it and then removed the cover so Maera could see what laid underneath.

"Strawberries.", she commented and relaxed a little. She didn't know what she had expected but definitely not this.

"Yes. I know how much you like them. And I wanted to bring you something that makes you happy after your punishment."

She really did love strawberries and it made a little smile play around her lips. It was the first time in almost two days that she had smiled and it felt strange and unfamiliar. For a brief second she forgot whose lap she was sitting on and merely examined the sweet red fruits with glistening eyes.

"Take one.", her uncle demanded with a smug smirk and for the first time, Maera was happy to oblige.

She reached with her hand into the basket and took an especially big and juicy-looking one. Then she brought it to her lips and ate the strawberry. No fruit or vegetable could ever taste better than a strawberry, she was certain. Funny how after two days of horror, the littlest and simplest thing could bring you so much joy, Maera thought. She swallowed it now and opened her eyes that she had closed in relish.

"Thank you.", she quietly mumbled.

"You're welcome.", Daemon answered and now there was a prominent and confident smile that covered his face.

But then he got serious again and straightened up.

"I would like to state something one more time, Maera. I am not you're enemy here and though you sometimes might think that I'm cruel to you, this is not the case. The things I do, I do because I love you. I locked you in here today because you weren't obedient and you tried to sneak away from me. And because I'm meant to protect you and I know that I'm the only one who actually can, I have to make sure that I'm at your side. Which I can't be when you try and escape from Dragonstone."

He sounded angrier now which Maera didn't like so she swiftly nodded at him and submissively lowered her head. Daemon cupped her face but this time it wasn't forceful but more like he just wanted to feel her skin.

Something about sitting on his lap felt very right and good to Maera. Perhaps this was the case because she had been in this position so many hundred times as a child so her body remembered all the times when her uncle had read to her, comforted her or how she used to fall asleep on his lap at times. And though she despised him so much right now, those were happy memories that came to the surface while sitting in this familiar position.

His thumb caressed her skin and he watched her intensely through his grey eyes.

"I'm sorry.", Maera whispered, barely more than a breath and Daemon graciously nodded with his head.

"Good."

And in that moment she felt like a child again. Like she had broke a rule or disbehaved and her uncle had just told her what she had done wrong. Daemon examined her for another second and then gently pushed her off his thighs. Once her feet touched the stoney ground he held her by her waist while tilting his head.

"Get on your knees.", he whispered and Maera widened her doll eyes.

The floor was cold and hard and it would destroy her knees. But still, she obeyed and sank down until she knelt between his slightly spread legs. Daemon breathed heavily while keeping his flashing eyes on her and lifting his hips to pull down his pants and breeches. With a swift movement he freed his cock that was already half-hardened and then wrapped his right hand around his thick shaft.

"You're gonna be a good girl for me now, Maera, is that right? You're gonna suck my cock just the way you used to suck on your little thumb. I know that you can do that."

She had his eyes on his manhood while Daemon guided his tip to her lips.

"Open your mouth.", he spoke lowly and his niece parted her lips to offer him entrance. Daemon pushed his cock inside and sighed out when he felt Maera's warm and wet throat stimulating his sensitive member.

"Breathe through your nose.", he ordered next which she immediately tried and it turned out to be good advice because his thick cock didn't allow a lot of air entering her lungs. Daemon had his hand on the back of her head to guide and hold her to his liking while he accordingly moved his hips to hit the deepest spot in her throat with each thrust.

"Perfect little mouth.", he snarled and smugly looked down to where his cock went past her lips.

She looked so pretty like this, Daemon thought. On her knees with her swollen lips wrapped around his manhood and her eyes that were fluttering sometimes when he went particulary deep and his little niece couldn't take it anymore and had to gag. And the way that her soft silver hair felt in his hand… She was a dream. Daemon became faster and more eager now because his pleasure grew and he knew that he wouldn't last very long.

"Fuck. Ohhh I'm gonna make you swallow all of it, little one. M'gonna coat this pretty face of yours with my seed and paint your lips."

Though he wanted to throw his head back in ecstasy he forced himself to keep his eyes on her because this picture was way too beautiful not to be seen. Every once in a while she let out a sigh or moan that sent vibrations through Daemon's body and her hands held on to his thighs in order to have more stability.

"Take it, Maera… Yes. You're doing so well, I knew you could do it.", Daemon hissed and pressed the girl's head closer to his balls. "You're gonna take all of it. Fuck…"

And then he came and exploded inside of her mouth.

"Oh gods be good.", he moaned and held Maera's head pressed to his center until he was certain he had spilled every last drop of his seed inside of her mouth and then let her go. She loudly gasped for air and had her eyes wide open but calmed herself while Daemon recovered from his high. He stayed by the edge of the bed supporting himself on his elbows until his panting had calmed down and then he turned his attention back to Maera.

She was still sitting on the floor, tears and traces of his seed marking her skin but Daemon thought that she had never looked cuter and the sight made his cock almost hard again.

"Get up.", he said and helped her by pulling her onto his lap once again. But then he was quick to change their position and heaved her through the air like she was a doll until Daemon was seated with his back against the headboard and his niece sat between his legs with her back to his chest. He wrapped an arm around her waist and Maera wasn't sure if he did it to feel her or to make sure that she couldn't get away from him.

Daemon held her close to him for a few minutes and kissed her neck until she felt a hand on her thigh that wandered further up until it slipped under her dress and to the most intimate part of her body. She dealt with all of this with a coldness, a numbness. She was beyond fighting him or trying to convince him not to do this because her experience had shown her that it didn't matter anyway. So she took it, just as he ordered her to.

His hand cupped her sex and then he was so eager that he couldn't tease her for long. He swiftly pulled down her underwear, removed it from her body and then ran a finger through her almost completely dry slit. He was determined to make sure that it would change soon.

So he started by coating his thumb with his own spit and then circled her still sensitive pearl. Soon he could use her own natural arousal for it because although she didn't like it, she was soaked in a matter of minutes and Daemon could almost smell the excitement and desire on her. It filled him with a profane satisfaction and at this point he could feel his cock swelling and pressing against Maera's back.

"I know you like that, little pet.", he purred in her ear when there was an unmistakable moan leaving her mouth and Maera bit her lip.

"Say it, babygirl. Say that you want me to continue. Say that you need me.", he growled and his touch on her bundle of nerves came to a halt.

She squirmed and whinced in his arms because at first she was too proud to tell him how much she enjoyed this and tried to signale him that with a complaining moan but then when he stopped, Maera felt so heated and desperate that she turned and shifted between his legs. Daemon secured his arm around her body and pressed his head against her neck.

"Say it.", he whispered. "Beg me to go on or I won't."

There was a light brush over her pearl that almost made her cry out but as sudden as it had come did it stop again. Just very quietly did her voice cut through the air.

"Please.", she whimpered and Daemon smirked against her hair.

"What was that?"

"Please, uncle. I need it."

He chuckled with his husky voice and kissed her head. "There we go. Isn't everything so much better when you obey me, Maera? Isn't all of this so much easier that way?"

She didn't give him an answer because even through her pleasure there was still her anxiety and this loathing she felt for her uncle. But right now every thought in her head vanished when his finger came back to circling her nub and her muscles tensed when he flicked and rubbed and pressed into this heavenly spot. She relaxed in his arms, let out little sighs and even dropped her head to his shoulder while trying to get her breathing under control.

"Mhmm… Oh gods.", she whined and Daemon gently removed the hood that covered her pearl to directly graze over it.

"The gods wouldn't be able to make you feel that good, doll.", he chuckled and Maera cried out at the intense feeling.

He did it so well, touched her pearl at the exact right pace to make her melt in his his arms. Everything was so overwhelming, so passionate that tears welled in her eyes as though. She gasped for air and felt a tear leaving the corner of her eye. She assumed that this reaction was caused by a mixture of two things.

On one hand she was overwhelmed and enjoyed what he was doing so much that she just had to cry and her tears were a natural reaction to the pleasure but on the other hand it was her anger directed at herself for liking it. She couldn't enjoy it but she did. She couldn't want him to continue but she did. He was just too good.

Daemon's hand stroke her hair and kissed her right next to her ear, well aware of Maera's reaction to his touch.

"Aww don't cry sweet niece, it's okay to like it. I'm your husband after all, aren't I?"

Soon Maera was about to release but to her disappointment her uncle stopped again which made the girl abruptly turn to him and questioningly and with big eyes stare at him.

"Please… What are you doing?"

In response he flipped the two of them over so she was on her stomach with Daemon pressing her into the mattress. With swift hands he pulled up her skirts until her bare arse was revealed. Maera turned her head to look over her shoulder while his fingers eagerly dug into the flesh of her hips and arse. He couldn't wait to bury himself into her inviting wet cunt and quietly cursed to himself at the sight of her rosy pink entrance. Daemon connected his hand with her back and gently held her down so she wouldn't squirm so much while he intended to thrust into her. "

Spread your legs a little.", he demanded.

Maera did and it gave Daemon enough space to slide his cock between her folds. She was dripping with arousal and he wouldn't need to do anything to wet her further so he rubbed over her entrance a few times and then entered her in one movement.

Both gasped for air and for a moment Maera felt a pain in her core again, just like the first time that he had claimed her but this time the stretch faded quickly and when her uncle started to move inside of her there was almost nothing of the discomfort left. Daemon squeezed his eyes and almost felt like stopping for a moment because he feared he couldn't take it. She was so tight, seven hells and he knew he wouldn't last long despite already having emptied himself that night. Her warm walls wrapped around his shaft so perfectly and each thrust he felt like sliding through heaven.

While pounding her cunt he had his left hand on her waist and his right had grabbed her neck. He gently pressed the girl underneath him in the sheets but made sure that she was still able to breathe.

"Perfect little cunt. She was fucking made for me, made to be taken by me. You're mine, sweet girl. Mine to ravish… and claim… and fuck the way I want to."

He had breathed these last words and pushed so deep inside her, emphasizing every word, that Maera felt him in his belly. She moaned but the sound was mostly absorbed by the pillow her head was shoved in.

"Gods be god.", Daemon sighed and pressed little kisses on her shoulder. "Touch yourself, Maera. On your little nub. So you can release with me."

Though she yearned for some stimulation on her throbbing bud, she was a little uncertain when she connected her finger with her pearl just like Daemon had done. She simply hadn't pleasured herself before so she was inexperienced with what techniques would make her feel good. But Maera merely did what she enjoyed most and soon her finger effortlessly danced around her pearl.

Sweat was running down her face, it seemed like she felt Daemon everywhere around her and she was so caught up in her pleasure that she forgot everything at this moment except this incredibly feeling threatening to explode in her tummy. She forgot about the last days, about who it was pinning her down right now and what he had made her feel. All she could concentrate on was how bad she needed to release and reach this state again that she had entered last night when Daemon had pleasured her with his mouth. She needed this addictive emotion and right now Maera seemingly had good chances of having a taste of  it again. Her finger circling her pearl sent shock waves through her body and her legs were shaking which Daemon noticed.

"Aww, you're gonna come for me, little niece?", he whispered against the crouch of her neck and the girl nodded but couldn't bring out a word.

"Gonna come on my cock? Thought you didn't like it. Thought you didn't want me."

She squinted her eyes unable to react to him but felt humiliation in her stomach. It made it twist and turn and a cold feeling ran down her back.

"Come then. Let go for me.", he breathed.

And then it happened and Maera felt like she was ascending from the bed into the sky. The knot in her tummy exctracted and this warmth flooded her body. While she was crying and moaning in the pillow Daemon mercilessly pounded her cunt and then with one last sharp and deep thrust he finished a second time this night only that now it was her cunt he filled up. There was a dark growl leaving his mouth and then, still having his cock buried inside of her, he laid on top of her feeling relaxed and content. His rapid panting slowly grew more quiet and then Daemon thought it was time to look after his niece.

He moved her hair to the side so he could take a look at the side of her face. To his surprise her face was tensed and there was a sour look around her mouth. Now that her high had faded away Maera was filled with anger and frustration as well as embarrassement. How could she have given herself to him so easily? How could she have enjoyed this?

Different to Daemon there wasn't any peace inside of her, she merely wanted to slap both her uncle and herself. Daemon, because she still didn't want this and hated that he just took her now whenever he felt the desire to and herself because she hadn't been strong enough to resist and instead had let her emotion take control over her action. And her embarrassement for the way she had had enjoyed the pleasure she had received turned into fury and stubbornness as well so Maera pouted at him once she noticed his eyes on her face.

"What is it, darling?", Daemon asked with lifted eyebrows. Her eyes spit fire and she squirmed underneathe him.

"Let me go.", she complained but Daemon's body held her down.

"What is it? Are you in pain?"

He almost sounded concerned but she wouldn't fall for this now. Maera shifted and turned and tried to crawl away so desperately that at some point he granted her it and rolled off her. The girl sat up on the bed and adjusted her dress at once, all while glaring at him with small eyes. The rogue prince had enough now and rolled his eyes. He grabbed her arm forcefully.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? Why are you sulking at me this time, mhm?" Maera tried to free herself from his grip but his hand was like iron. "You know I don't like it when you pout at me, little one. So you're either gonna tell me what's the cause for this or you're gonna swallow it and act like a good girl again."

"NO.", she spitted and for a moment Daemon was so surprised that he loosened his grip on her upper arm which gave his niece the opportunity to bring some distance between the two of them which she did. She pulled away from him and hasted towards the door. Because although Maera knew that she couldn't just escape from Dragonstone that way, she thought that she at least might be able to flee from his presence during the night if she would be able to hide somewhere in the castle. Or lock herself in a room…?

These thoughts clearly were unnecessary because even before she was halfway to the door, Daemon took hold of her arm, shoved her back and pressed her to his body. His mouth brushed her hairline, a motion that seemed gentle at first but then suddenly a hand wrapped around Maera's throat and even squeezed a little.

"You little beast. And I thought you learned something today.", he hissed. "Would you really like me to do this again? Locking you in here for another day?"

She assumed that it was a rethorical question because she wasn't able to answer him right now with his hand around her throat. Only croaked hums and moans could go past her lips so she just shifted in his arms.

"Will you be obedient now? Or do I have to make myself even more clearly?"

He slightly shook her and dangerously towered over her. In any other case Maera would have been scared and nodded just so he would let her go but there was something inside of her right now that made her so angry with everything that she didn't.

She hated the fact that she had enjoyed what he had done to her for a moment so much that she had to deal with her emotions somehow and right now the easiest way was by disobeying him and just letting her wrath out. With a new power Maera wriggled and writhed trying to make him stop but he wouldn't which frustrated her. Daemon tightened his grip around her neck as a reply and lowered his head to her ear.

"Fucking listen to me. I'll lock you in these chambers for the next years if that's what it takes. I'm not gonna let you out and only come in here every night to fuck and breed you until you're with child and then I'm gonna do it over and over again. Does that sound pleasant to you, you little slut, mhm? Right now you're not giving me a lot of alternatives."

His hand around her throat started to make her feel panicky and she helplessly put her hand on his. Perhaps she would just die right here right now. Strangled by her uncle who she had once loved and admired so much. But it didn't happen and the light that she next saw wasn't the holy light welcoming her to the afterlife but the candles that lit up the room. Daemon had loosened his grip a little, sensing that Maera was seriously struggling and allowed her to greedily gasp for air while she opened her eyes again. Killing her was the last thing he wanted after all.

Once she had calmed down a little with Daemon's hand still keeping her in place he turned her around and came with his face close to hers.

"Will you behave yourself now? Will you be good?"

She chewed on her buttom lip, still a pouty expression in her eyes and he could clearly see her anger.

"Fine.", she grumbled nevertheless and her words made Daemon straighten up again.

"If you won't your punishment will only get worse for you. This is my last fucking warning, Maera and I swear to the gods I will not be merciful if you will disobey me again."

Now that they were already standing Daemon led her to one of the chairs just like he had done last night to clean her up. He let go of her not because he particulary trusted that she wouldn't do anything that would upset him but because he knew that he was stronger than her anyway and even if she attempted to flee, he would catch her in a matter of seconds. But Maera kept her promise for now and only breathed heavily while sitting on the chair. He used a washcloth to clean her cunt and inner thighs and this time the girl's resistance didn't last long.

With one powerful motion the rogue prince spread her legs, quickly made sure that she was clean for the night and then removed the remains of his seed that he had spilled on her face with another wipe. It was a loving gesture in deep contrast to his previous actions and Maera was able to relax for a few minutes.

There were always these moments when he seemed so familiar again, like the loving uncle he had been to her as a child when he would comb her hair or comfort her when she was crying. Or how he used to take care of her wounds from romping around outside with her brother sometimes. He would clean the cuts with a washcloth just like this one and then apply an ointment that was supposed to reduce the pain. Daemon then would hold her and soothingly kiss her hair until she grew so tired that she would fall asleep and he could carry her to her bed.

Right now it felt like that again, like he was merely taking care of her after she had suffered or craved his attention. She was at peace for a while until he was finished and got to his feet again. Then he helped her up, wrapped an arm around her shoulder and led her back to the bed as if he was scared she would fall down if she did it on her own.

Once they were by the bed Daemon pulled back the blanket so his niece could slip under it. The goosebumps on her arms gave away how could she felt and she even slightly shivered as she climbed on her side of the bed.

"Do you need a second blanket, love?", Daemon asked softly but Maera shook her head.

"Are you certain?"

"Yes. It's fine."

He had his eyebrows raised, not entirely satisfied but accepted her answer and went walking around the room to blow out the candles until it was so dark, Maera could barely see her own hands in front of her. She only heard Daemon when he approached the bed again and then after he had adjusted his pillow, it at least sounded like that, he turned on his side.

"Sleep well, sweetling.", he whispered and for a moment she was pondering whether to answer him or not.

Saying it back would be like giving up once more and she hated it. She hated doing as he told and giving him what he wanted. But maybe he would only be harder on her if she continued to be so stubborn and protest at any given chance. Almost two minutes after Daemon had said it, and she was lucky he was still awake as he was already slowly drifting away, she opened her mouth.

"Goodnight.", Maera murmured, so quietly that he almost couldn't hear it.

~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist:

@smashee0789 @classicsimpforaaronwarner @hangmanscoming @ninihrtss @coffeebooksrain18 @aleemendoza2425-blog @chiminies-noona

[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 impulse’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 impulse 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

[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.