#his chest hairs...make me feel things i shouldnt

[freaksun]

eddie doesnt let anyone touch his hair. ever.

it reminds him of his late mother, who had the same gorgeous untamed curls. She used to comb his hair when he was little, being ever so gentle and taking her time brushing out the knots.

his father made him feel less-than for just about everything about him, including his gorgeous mane. Called him awful names and always told him to ‘cut that fairy shit’ when it grew too long.

so, ever since she passed, and his father went to jail, hes been growing it.

unfortunately, she never taught him how to take care of it, she’d always just do it herself. So, he doesnt put product in it, he doesnt cut it, he doesnt even brush it. And, stubborn as his mama, he doesnt let anyone else touch it either.

then you come along, happy and sweet, always loving to everyone. he falls in love with you so fast he hardly even notices. you certainly dont either.

one hot summer day you’re both in his room, you on his bed, him pacing, frantically explaining some sort of nerdy campaign idea. you dont know, you havent been listening for a while, too distracted by the way he keeps wiping sweat from the back of his neck. you cut him off rudely, he doesnt mind

“hey eddie?”

“sweetheart?”

“whens the last time you got a haircut?”

he freezes, silent, which is very out of character, dude never shuts up.

“uhh. like a few years ago. why?”

its your turn to be quiet, suddenly all coy. he finds you absolutely adorable as you stare at his floor, trying to find a way to ask him without startling him. as if he were some wild animal, which, he basically is.

“just.. immm noticinggg its kinda matted in the back…”

you try to sound the least accusing as you can. he doesnt seem offended but you can tell hes thinking.

“well, yeah, i. i guess i just havent touched it since. well my mom used to do it for me”

you feel like an ass, touching on something you shouldnt have, making him all quiet and sad. you backtrack.

“jesus, eddie, im sorry i didnt mean to-“

“its okay angel, i know”

he sits next to you. you give him a nervous smile, still sweet, hesitantly reaching for his curls. you can tell he’s hesitant too, but he nods, granting you permission. you take a single strand between your fingers, twirling it.

“Its so pretty, eds. ..would you let me? take care of it, i mean?”

hes scared. but youre so sweet and youre asking so nicely. a part of him is scared if he lets you, he loses another part of his mom. but the other part is staring into your eyes and seeing nothing but genuine affection.

“i.. i guess you could.. try.”

his heart pounds in his chest. You absolutely beam, thanking him immediately and bouncing around the room, looking for a brush. he laughs, shaking his head. you watch as he rummages through his closet, before handing you a light pink brush. you think about teasing him for it but he already looks vulnerable. you smile sweetly instead, taking it from him.

“sit” you point with the brush. he does as you say, running his hands up and down his thighs in a self soothing motion.

“its okay eds, you dont have to be nervous.. ill be gentle i promise” he gives you an unconvincing smile. you return with a guilty one, downturned. you kneel in front of him, in between his knees, brushing his bangs with your fingers.

“we can stop whenever you want, okay?” his cheeks are bright red as he nods timidly

you move to sit behind him, and run your hands through his curls gently, admiring it. you take a part, hold it at the root, and brush gently.

“that feel okay? tell me if it hurts” ever so sweet.

“mm-hm” you can feel his nervousness. “you- you remind me of her, y’know”

youre pretty taken aback, but honoured nonetheless. you keep brushing through the mattes in his hair as you talk.

“Yeah? Wanna tell be about her?” youre not sure if its the right thing to say, but you figure he probably hasnt talked about her in a long time. you can practically feel his energy shift.

“she was sweet. loving and kind to everyone, like you.” you both smile. “and she was pretty. beautiful. i really miss her.” you stop, rub his back a little.

“i can only imagine.. im sorry eddie.” he turns to face you, smiling.

“s’alright sweetheart. thanks for letting me talk about her” he hugs you. you hug him back, tight.

“hows the ole hair going?” He asks when he pulls back, a joking tone to lighten the mood.

“good!!! ive gotten the mattes outta this chunk here, it looks good. your hair is really beautiful, eds” youre ecstatic and it travels to him.

“thank you. my mom had the same hair.” he smiles, turning back around to let you continue.

“i bet she was really gorgeous.” youre extra-extra gentle. He keeps talking and you keep working. He tells you about how she smelled, the softness of her voice, his favourite memories with her. he tells you about the last time he saw her. he tells you all the things hes been holding inside, everything he never got to tell anyone, never trusted anyone enough. and when hes done, his hair is untangled and soft.

you smile proudly, running your hands through his hair, marveling at your work.

“its done” he whips around, looking at you with wide excited eyes

“really??” you nod, smiling wide. he runs over to the bathroom to see for himself. You stand behind him, peeking over his shoulder in the mirror. Hes surprised, looks like he might even cry. you wrap your arms around him, leaning your head against his arm.

“do you like it? Its a little poofy, but you can wash it out and it’ll look be-“ he cuts you off by turning around and hugging you. he hugs you tight, lifting you up.

“thank you.” you can tell he really means it.

[thatonegayship]

HELLO??

do they ever just…make out. like lay there for half an hour and just do it for the hell of it. or are they like hmm but we COULD be fucking let’s do that

Of course they do! It just wouldn't be very interesting to read.

[kissesfordaryl]

Hey there ^_^ This idea has been eating away my brain for a good while now and you're the only male writer I know, UGH I LOVE YOU

May I please have your headcanons on how Daryl would be like with a metalhead bf who's really intimidating and looks like he came straight outta hell but is actually super sensitive and sweet? Such as first impressions, how Daryl feels about his kindness, etc.

Thank you!! Xx

daryl & his metalhead.

note: honestly had to do a lil research beforehand bc i dont wanna do any metalheads wrong😭 AND HOPEFULLY I DIDNT!! 😕 lmk (n ilyt)

daryl sees you and automatically assumes youre the quiet type- a lone wolf even. you dressed in dark colors and occasionally band tees(which he had no clue of), towered over almost everyone, wore your dark hair long, and didnt warm up to many people. he doesnt go out of his way to talk to you, until youve come up to him.

"y'wanna go on a run with me?" hes staring up at you in disbelief, turning his head left and right in search of backup. youve practically cornered him on the streets of alexandria, big pleading eyes staring at him.

"yeah!" youre nodding a bit too enthusiastically for his liking, "its just... im looking for some parts. my guitars broken, so. but i wont be in the way, i promise!"

he scoffs, and doesnt believe you for a second. but the next morning, hes taken you and one car.

he realizes that every assumption hes made about you is 100% wrong. hes always categorized you as emo in his head, but you were quick to inform him the differences between being emo and being a metalhead. hes quiet for most of the ride, but surprisingly asks you a few questions here and there. his second assumption is that you were quiet. jesus, you could talk his ear off. but in a good way he thinks.

the run is unsuccessful, but daryl gifts you a little pin with a guitar on it. youre enveloping him in a hug, and hes reluctant to return it.

back at home, he pays more attention to you. he gets defensive whenever someone makes a judgmental remark about you, claiming that you're different than what everyone thinks. carol teases him about it: "didnt realize you knew him so well." and yeah. maybe he did. maybe he wanted to. "so what?"

he finds himself coming around to your house more often, letting you teach him how to make dinner and listen to you play(he found your missing part on a run with rick). he enjoys it more than he thought he would, and you joke around and say hes halfway to being a metalhead like you.

"youve already got the hair down." hes sat down at the couch, and youre coming around to sit next to him, a hand reaching out to feel his hair. "we're basically twins."

he huffs, turning away to hide his blush. "it aint like that. just grew out over time."

"well good. i like it."

hes grown attached to you, always spending his free time with you. that also means hes grown protective of you. he constantly lectures you on how you shouldnt just let people say whatever they wanted about you- and that if you wouldnt step up, he will.

you take in a stray cat, and daryl practically has a heart attack seeing how gentle you are with it, pampering it and laying it against daryls chest.

he lets you do stupid shit to him all the time, like dress him up in your clothes or do some light makeup on him. to show your appreciation, you gave him a kiss on the cheek. he freaks the fuck out and has to get carols advice.

your first kiss is all thanks to your lighter: its just you two outside the walls, and hes forgotten his own. youre leaning in close, the fire right underneath the cigarette. your hand is quick to steal it from his mouth, fingers brushing against his mouth. before you can blow the smoke out, hes on his tippy toes and leaning in. the way the smoke blows into his own mouth is the hottest thing youve ever seen.

hopefully didnt butcher this🤞🤞 btw this is such a cute idea im in love

[burnedwriter]

thinking abt alhaitham/kaveh/itto with a s/o who practically acts real bossy with them but becomes absolutely dumb when they get fucked. if its okay w u, could u pls write abt them (or any one of them) railing the brains out of their s/o after a day of bossing them around? no rush, and feel free to write as you please! thank you!

A/n:thank you anon for the req!,i apologise for the wait,i didnt forgot your req,my inbox is in flames right now soooo,i hope you enjoy,i wrote about all 3 of them because i just couldnt choose one

warnings:smut,!gender-neutral language used,doggystyle(itto),against the table(kaveh),degrading(alhaitham),rough sex,teasing,gagging.

🌱al haitham

''are you done bossing me around all day you little slut,dont forget who is the real boss here''al haitham groaned in your ear,his chest pressed against your back as he pounded into you.

''what are you too cock drunk to answer''he teased you seeing no reply from you but only moans,his fingers deep inside your mouth gagging you as you drooled all over them,unable to form a single sentence but only reply with moans.

Al haitham thrusting into you at a fractic pace,his frustration showing with each one of his thrust,one more brutal than the other.He wasnt the hotheaded type nor the type to loose his cool at anything,and now you learned the hard way that you fucked up really bad on why you shouldnt make him mad

His strong thrusts knocking the the air out of your lunges,as you held into the bed sheets for dear life,al haitham was not going to stop anytime soon and its was going to a long night for you.

🏛kaveh

''oh kaveh please~''you cried out,your legs pushed onto either side of your head as kabveh fucked into your hole,he couldnt hold back anymore,he tried to be patient with you but afte today you took it too far with your bullshit,couldnt you wait for one hour until he was done with his assignment or do you wanted him to fail?you were suprised he was so patient for so long.

''where is your bossy attitude now hmm''kaveh said with a mocking tone,seeing how your eyes rolled at the back of your head everytime he trusted into you,your mind felt hazy.

''i-im sorry kaveh''you tried to beg for forgiveness from him but you were too fucked out of your mind to form a sentence,your mouth gapping open the only thing coming out being your moans.

''by the time im done with you the only thing you will be screaming is my name''he huffed still frustratedas his pace never slowed down and became more brutal.

👹itto

itto is not the type to loose his but....he was so done with you,he already had kuki to boss him around all the time but you...you were a different type of bossy,you wouldnt stop talking until what you wanted got done.

''fuck itto slow down~''you whine,itto showing no mercy as he pounded deep into you at a brutal pace,while he pulled your hair as he fucked you from behind.

''You think you can boss me around''he growled his merciless pace never stopping one bit,you mind felt blank unable to think a smart comeback anymore you were basicly moaning mess at this point.You have never seen the oni be so frustrated with your attitude before which was really out of character for him to do so.

itto hit your sweet spot over and over again with his cock earning more moans from you in the process,brace yourself because it was going to be a long night for you as the oni wasnt going to stop anytime soon until he gets his messages across.

[dollywoo]

woosan - you’re not alone, and you never will be.

just some woosan smut with angst and fluff ! sorry if its messy! i hope u guys like it!

tw: depression, anxiety attacks, body image, smut! 18+ !

pairings: college student/gamer! san x college student/gamer!wooyoung

gentle laughter emerged from the brunette, clicking keys on the keyboard before him, the only light that graced his dark dorm was that of the monitor before him. “fuck, it’s a huntress.” wooyoung groaned, speaking in reference to the game his was playing, Dead by Daylight. a reply rang through his headset, his best friend responded, “ah fuck, and shes on me already” san groaned in response, his voice filling wooyoung’s ears. after a few more moments, another sound filled the gloomy room.

ding

wooyoung dropped everything, reaching for his phone with a gentle smile on his lips. though, once his brown orbs danced along the screen, his smile disappeared.

Danny ! 💞

D: sorry love, i wont be able to make our date tomorrow, i truly dont think this is working out anymore.

quickly, his nimble fingers tapped across the screen, a frown forming.

W: what? what do you mean? danny? why?? whats not working out?

the response came five minutes later, in this time wooyoung had silently left the discord call, closing his game out. he would text san later, if he reminded himself. the next words caused his eyes to brim with tears, chewing on his bottom lip as he read the message over and over again.

D: sorry, danny’s busy. ;)

seen 2:49am

oh.

he shouldnt be surprised, but he was. why did he allow for this man to become his reason for existence? he hated him, he absolutely HATED his now ex boyfriend. he had been holding all the weight of the world on his shoulders, the burden of his classes, his insecurities — everything.

but those words caused it all to crash down on wooyoung, as he threw himself on the bed.

he felt weightless, he felt nothing.

he hadnt remembered when he started crying, his knees were curled to his chest, eyes soaked and his hair sticking to the sides of his face.

why? why.

nothing mattered to wooyoung in this moment, he absolutely loathed himself. every fucking inch.

ding, ding.

wooyoung thought he was different, he thought he mattered, he thought that he had finally found the one.

was he not pretty enough anymore?

ding.

how long had he been seeing someone else? wooyoung felt dirty.

ding, ding, ding.

“why am i not enough…” a shaky, fragile voice crept out of wooyoung’s dry lips, barely a hushed whisper.

he wanted to disappear, the notifications that rang through his phone repulsed him. the brunette wanted to smash it. why was the phone taunting him?

click.

wooyoung barely noticed that his front door had been unlocked until his bedroom door slowly began to open. he didnt move, only continued to sob into his sheets.

a gentle voice rang through the darkness, the stifled sobs barely covering the alluring voice of his best friend. “wooyoungie?”

shit. he forgot he gave san a key.

then, weight shifted on the bed, now san had sat on the edge, reading through the still open conversation on wooyoung’s phone.

“fucking asshole.” he spat, his eyes filled with hatred until they landed on wooyoung once more.

the way san’s eyes softened as soon as he looked down at the quivering boy before him made wooyoung’s heart flutter. he had been inlove with his best friend since high school, since the raven haired beauty would beat the absolute shit out of everyone that dared to mess with wooyoung.

despite this, woo was convinced that the feelings weren’t reciprocated, he forced himself to find someone else, that is when he found danny. now look where he was, crying and weak infront of san again.

“darling..” san’s voice was gentle, and warm. it wrapped around wooyoung like a weighted blanket.

“come here, baby.” next thing wooyoung knew, he was sat in san’s lap, being held like a baby. the mountain of a man rocked the smaller back and forth, gently humming a tune to him. wooyoung nuzzled deep into his toned chest, tears slowly flowing. his thoughts running wild.

‘do you love me sannie?’

‘please love me.’

as if san had read the boy’s mind, his soft voice gently whispered into wooyoung’s ear, lips barely hovering over the entrance. “i would never treat my wooyoungie like that, never. you deserve to be treasured, you deserve love.”

wait, what? what was san saying? wait.

“i love you, woo.” san blurted out, cheeks heating up immediately. the raven haired male had always loved his best friend, as soon as wooyoung had left the call he was on his way over. like a moth to a flame.

“sannah..” wooyoung whispered, shifting to straddle his best friend’s lap, eyes on him.

their eyes stayed locked on each other, time stopped.

“i love you too.”

with those words, wooyoung threw his arms around san’s neck, planting a needy kiss onto the other’s plush lips, whining slightly.

“i love you, i love you, i love you!” he chanted against san’s mouth as they kissed, the older’s hands began to wander down to the brunette’s hips, squeezing them lovingly. this earned san a gentle moan against his lips from the younger.

his sounds went straight to san’s member, blushing darkly as their eyes met once again. “im sorry, is this okay? are you sure you want me too?—“

wooyoung’s answer came in the form of his hips pushing the swell of his ass down against the older’s clothed area. “yes, san. please, ive wanted you for so long. ive loved you for so long, i NEED you.”

with that, san picked wooyoung up, laying him down on his back against the bed. the toned male’s massive arms completely caged wooyoung in, this was what the boy always daydreamed of. it was finally happening.

wooyoung clawed at san’s shirt, whimpering in need as his best friend began to grind his hips down into him, the brunette thanked himself for wearing only his boxers tonight. san was gentle, kissing down his neck and leaving dark marks on each patch of skin.

this drove wooyoung mad.

“fuck sannie, please. shirt off, please!” wooyoung demanded, tugging at san’s shirt. “pants too! need you…cant wait!” his own member ached inside of his boxers. thankfully, san obliged, removing his clothing — including his boxers.

wooyoung’s eyes hooded with need, leaning up to pull off his own shirt while san pulled down the younger’s boxers. the older then reached into his best friend’s nightstand, grabbing a bottle of lube that he had seen in there when he would come to grab wooyoung’s medicine for him. or on the nights that san had slept over, holding wooyoung from behind and his manhood failed him — causing the older to relieve himself in the bathroom using that lube during those times. he prayed wooyoung would never find out, but that was before he knew that his best friend loved him too.

wooyoung loved san too.

lost in thought, the only thing to bring him out was the absolute beauty underneath him, “sannah? everything okay, handsome?” wooyoung’s gentle, soft voice was like music to san’s ears, causing his heart to flutter. his brown eyes directed themselves back down to his lover, “yes, angel. now spread for me so i can prep you.”

the brunette blushed darkly at san’s words, spreading his legs to expose his entrance, his leaking member flopping onto his stomach. a slight whimper left his lips as he felt a cold liquid circling his hole.

san’s fingers fit perfectly, pushing a single digit inside of the blushing boy, soon after he added two and began to scissor him open.

all the while, wooyoung was as loud as san had always imagined, squirming and whimpering his name over and over again — becoming completely ruined on the older’s fingers alone.

after a few minutes, san pulled his fingers out of wooyoung, who began to babble and beg to be filled again. how cute, the loud mouth jung wooyoung reduced to nothing but whimpers and pleads.

pouring lube onto his own leaking cock, san began to pump himself slowly, ensuring every inch of himself was lubed up for his lover. “shh honey, im coming..” he reassured softly, “im not going anywhere.”

with that, san slowly lined himself up with wooyoung’s leaking hole, pushing himself inside gently. “more sannie..” woo would whisper soon after, “i can take it, i can take all of it i promise.”

the toned male gripped wooyoung’s hips, one had moving to caress his face, dragging his thumb along the younger’s lips slowly — admiring him. whilst he did this, san pushed his entire length inside of the brunette, who whimpered out loudly.

once wooyoung adjusted to his size, san began a slow pace with him, not wanting to be to rough for their first time. he always imagined this, being gentle with wooyoung, he knew the younger wasnt used to it. every ex that his best friend had had was rude and pushy, always wanting to have sex with wooyoung roughly, never wanting to make love with him.

it enraged san, he always wanted to treat him the way he deserved — he wished to worship the ground wooyoung walked on.

the brunette’s feeling were that of the same, however, wooyoung had always worshipped san, the feeling of the other’s cock deep in him reminded him of that. his stomach swirled with admiration, lips parted and soft whines and moans left them with each thrust of san’s hips.

in this moment, wooyoung belonged to san, and san belonged to wooyoung. finally, the two were one.

as time went on, wooyoung’s nails dug into san’s toned back, moaning loudly as his prostate was struck over and over again. tears brimmed his eyes as san continued to whisper, “you’re doing so good, puppy. so so good for me, yes? such a good wooyoungie. all for me, all for your sannie.”

and with a final thrust to his prostate, paired with the gentle words that left san’s lips, wooyoung came undone, san milked the younger’s cock dry as wooyoung came all over his own stomach. soon, san followed suit, cumming deep inside of his best friend.

after a few moments, san pulled out of wooyoung gently, rushing to the bathroom to grab a clean washcloth and returning. he gently cleaned wooyoung up, before scooping him up bridal style. the younger was completely out of it, clinging to the broad shoulders that beloned to his soon to be boyfriend.

san had preemptively ran wooyoung a bath, gently lowering him down into it before climbing in behind him. this is where the older would gently clean the boy and himself. the younger hummed softly the whole time, starry eyes stayed put on memorizing every inch of san’s face. wooyoung couldnt even speak, only admired how attentive his lover was. no one had ever done this for him, he had never experienced any after care. usually he was thrown a towel and ordered the clean himself up. but san was different, the attentive male made sure to take care of his wooyoungie no matter what.

soon, they returned back to wooyoung’s bedroom, where san pulled his sweatpants back on and then dressed wooyoung, giving him a new pair of underwear and his own tshirt to sleep in.

as soon as san landed in bed next to wooyoung, the younger laid his head on his chest, hooking a leg around the taller’s.

“how are you feeling?” san was the first to break the silence, gently tracing hearts into wooyoung’s thigh.

“way better now.” wooyoung started, “i love you sannie.” he added, looking up to the other.

san smiled softly, “i love you more, youngie.” he whispered in response, kissing the other’s forehead. “wooyoung. will you—“

“be your boyfriend?” wooyoung finished the other’s sentence, a giggle leaving his lips as san nodded in response. “of course i will, sannie!”

then a mischievous look appeared on wooyoung’s face, biting san’s shoulder harshly and leaving a dark mark there. the older yelped, hissing out, “woo! dammit not again!” which earned an evil little giggle from wooyoung.

“just giving you a reason to be harder with me next time..” the brunette teased, smirking as another giggle left his lips. “tomorrow though, im sleepy!” he added, nuzzling his head into san’s chest.

san rolled his eyes, of course wooyoung was a tease in a relationship, this didn’t surprise him at all.

soon, wooyoung drifted off to sleep, san still wide awake with a dumb smile on his lips. he reached over to grab wooyoung’s long forgetten phone, opening up the conversation with wooyoung’s bastard ex boyfriend.

W: sorry, he was busy. - C.S.

san sent the message before promptly hitting the block button, laying the phone on his toned chest and following his new boyfriend into a deep slumber, a smile stayed on both of their lips the whole night.

— 🧸taglist !: @vampzity @sanshairfollicles @dvrktvnnel @hwasddeongbyeoli @scarfac3 @rvereri @joonezra

comment to be added to taglist !! <3

tysm for reading!! sorry if theres any spelling mistakes! i did this kind of fast lol! <3 i hope u enjoyed !

[naehoonx]

" freckles " - bkdk [ series pt. 2 ]

→ SUMMARY: freckles on his cheek, a smile so bright that even the sun became jealous and a heart so full of love ... but not for him. that love was never meant for him.

→ GENRE: adult bakugou; adult deku; angst; heartbreak; one sided love; second chances; deep talk; drama; romance; smut; fluff

→ RATING: 18+

→ CHAPTER 1 /

→ NOTE: after writing the oneshot i decided to turn it into a series. so please before reading this chapter make sure to read the oneshot. you can find it here: " too late ". have fun and lets suffer together. as always, dont claim my work as your own and if you wanna translate it shoot me a message

MHA MASTERLIST ♡.°₊ˎ SONG FOR THIS CHAPTER

the bar was dimmly lit even at this hour of the day. while outside the world keeps on moving, kacchan feels like he is stuck. stuck at the same damn spot from last night. izuku's back still in front of his eyes, as he walked away to confess to ochaco. a snort escapes him as he downed the 9th fireball in this hour. kacchan knows he shouldnt drink so much alcohol, he knows it too well. he always gets too emotional when hes drunk, trashing over the things which made him depressed. and right now, that "thing" was izuku.

"god whats wrong with me ...?"

kacchan's voice was only a mumble as he placed his forehead against the cold table. he should be happy for izuku, at least one of them got what they always wanted. but then why did his heart hurt so much, the more he thought about those green eyes? kacchan's mind drifted far away to simpler times when they were still friends. yes, he was an asshole but he never really meant it. it just took him a few years to finally realize that. the whole "catching feelings" for izuku started when they were both in their last year of UA. something changed. slowly at first; sometimes it felt like kacchan's heart would jump out of his chest when he saw izuku's smile. then another time, the urge to brush with his thumb over those stupid freckles, grew stronger. so strong that it drove him crazy whenever izuku leaned closer to him. from that moment kacchan stopped, showing his friend silly memes on his phone.

this crush was stupid and doomed from the start, he knew that. it didnt took kacchan long to notice how izuku looked at ochaco. how his green eyes lit up whenever she talked with him. how his hands became sweaty and his voice got more high pitched than usual. whenever that happened, kacchan swore to bury his own feelings. there was no space for them. confessing to izuku was out of the question too. kacchan tried, once. he wrote a damn letter and hid it in izuku's locker... but of course, izuku was too dense to notice which who's handwriting it was. as graduation draw near they both kinda fell apart. izuku was pining after a girl while kacchan stayed behind, watching his back as he dissapeared.

while izuku was happy, kacchan was the one in some random bar getting drunk. hoping to drown the hurt inside his heart. his doctor will probably scold him, knowing he shouldnt stress his heart out too much. the moment he wants to down another glass of his fireball, someone grabbed his shoulder and turned him around. due to the fast motion his vision became blurry, shit he really drank too much. after kacchan's eyes finally adjusted he saw eye to eye with non other than kirishima. the red haired boy sighed heavily as he grabbed the drink out of kacchan's hand. placing it far away at the other end of the table.

"man, what are you doing here? you look horrible" "how ...?" "how? dont be stupid. Izuku called me because he was worried that you ran away."

right, of course izuku called kirshima. that boy was the only one who knew which bars kacchan visited. well that wasnt too difficult because there were only 3 of them. kacchan liked it to have at least something consistent in his life. another sigh escaped kirshima's mouth as he sat down right next to his best friend. the hand on kacchans shoulder squeezed slightly as he got pulled closer.

"listen. i have no idea whats wrong with you or .. with izuku but that needs to stop. since last night .. or rather, since a few months you look miserable. you sure you dont want to talk with me about that?"

maybe it was the alcohol or all the bottled up emotions ... or it was actually both. the moment kirishima offered, yet again, to talk about it; kacchan broke down. his right hand shot up to hide his face as a strangled sob escaped his throat. it was awful especially for kirishima who never saw kacchan like this. a bit clumsy he tried to calm him down a bit

"woah .. okay okay, im here buddy. this isnt some small ... drama you two have there right?"

all kacchan could do was shake his head as he tried to find his voice again. the alcohol really getting to his head as he finally opened his mouth

"why .. why her? why is she so much better than me? what does she have which i dont? am i that horrible?"

the both of them were sitting on that table for multiple hours. after some time kirishima decided to call mina over. after explaining everything to her on the phone, she arrived at the bar within minutes. now they sat there in silence, listening to kacchan as he finally "explodes" spilling everything which got bottled up inside his heart.

mina was the first to talk

"did you ever told him that? i mean that you like him? in another way than via letter" another head shake from kacchan "okay .. well ... i mean .. thats really difficult. because as it seems izuku is really happy how things are right now"

kacchan was totally aware of that which why he swore to keep his feelings as a secret for much longer. even if that meant that he will never open up to izuku.

"mina you dont need to rub salt into his wound .. god" "what? kirishima im only realistic here. i know hes hurting but .. he cant keep going like this!"

mina pointed at kacchan who was still leaning against kirishima's shoulder. his eyes were puffy and red, the tear stains on his cheek slowly drying.

"i will take him home with me. its probably better than leaving him alone at his place"

both were fine with the idea. after they decided that kacchan was in no condition to drive, mina made sure to get his car back to his own apartment. kirishima on the other hand managed to get kacchan into the backseat of his car. his best friend was on the verge of passing out as he started to drive to his own apartment.

looking back for a short moment to make sure that kacchan was really okay, he sighs a bit

"damnit Bakugou ..."

it was later at noon when they arrived at the apartment complex. before kirishima got out of the car, he grabbed his phone to leave a message to izuku. he had the right to know that kacchan was save and in .. well good shape. getting his best friend out of the car wasnt as easy as kirishima originally thought. kacchan's eyes were heavy and his body surely didnt listened to him anymore. but after some push's and pull's they both managed to get into the apartment. there, kirishima dragged kacchan's heavy body into the bedroom. he himself would sleep on the sofa for the next few nights.

as kirishima placed a blanket over kacchan and wanted to leave, something grabbed his wrist. the next words were nothing more than a few whispers but they were loud enough for kirishima to hear.

"dont go ... "

in his whole life he never heard kacchan this desperate. the hold around his wrist grew tighter with every minute as kirishima contemplated if it was a good idea to share a bed now. kacchan wasnt able to think cleary but as he tucked more on kiri's han wrist, the red haired boy gave in. slowly he crawled underneath the blanket as kacchan immediately buried his head against kiri's chest.

"its okay .. im here. i wont leave that easily"

with those words against his ear kacchan finally succumbed to the alcohol in his system. the only thing he noticed was one steady heartbeat against his cheek, imagining that this heart beat belonged to izuku.

[airbendertendou]

i know almost nothing abt demon slayer but have some thoughts abt douma

you wake up in his little cult w no memory of who you are right

the woman taking care of you grins and tosses the wet rag she used on your forehead to the side

nd with this widened almost terrifying smile, she says "our lord has come to visit you himself! what a blessing~"

the first time you see douma you just feel like somthing is. off

hes pretty - stunning, honestly - in this mystical, dangerous way that should lead you away from him instead of bringing you closer. but, its the opposite for his followers - they hang onto every word he says and believe him so earnestly its kind of sad

douma immediately thinks theres something wrong w you. you dont have that foggy, starry-eyed gaze everyone else does when hes near. you look cautious - aware. it makes him hungry

he leans down to face you, "hello, stranger! stay as long as you need to, hm?"

your skin crawls but you nod anyways

staying in paradise is odd. again, everyone hangs on douma's every word and trusts his every action. they devote themselves to him. but youve noticed -

people are going missing, women specifically.

his followers are v obviously in lust w him, bragging abt the nights spent alone w him and begging to be the next chosen one

"it'll be me," one girl says as she dries the freshly cleaned dishes. she perks her chest up smugly, "i've got his favored assets."

"he's been spending more time with me," another argues, "asking for me personally."

"don't act so mighty-"

and then the man himself appears in the doorway with a soft, barely there smile. "[random name], we have some things to discuss. see you tonight?"

everyones attention shifts to the smallest one in the kitchen, eyes large and timid. her hands shake so hard the plate shes holding falls to the floor and shatters. douma tilts his head, "everything alright, sweet? should we have our session a little earlier?"

"shes going to die."

it comes from your mouth before you can stop it. multi-colored eyes snap to you, his nose crinkling slightly. you simply stare, "when they disappear with you, they vanish. die."

douma hides the way his eye twitches. the bustier girl stammers, shoving your shoulder roughly. "you shouldnt say such things! apologize to lord-"

"its okay," doumas eyes twinkle, "curious cicumstances, hm, [name]?"

she doesnt die. its as if douma is proving a point to you - proving you wrong. she lives that night - only to vanish the next. "a personal trip," douma speaks. he dismisses everyones concerns except for yours.

and when you start speaking up more - predicting everyones death - he begins to punish you

the water you wash dishes with is either scalding hot or below freezing. theres a new night shift to the sanctuary that you take care of, staying awake for days on end. cleaning the entirety of paradise by yourself. watching as every other member feasts heartily while your portion is forgotten or unavailable.

douma even tries to throw you off his trail. he speaks to numerous people - has those secret conversations with men and others out of his normal type. but you always seem to know the exact one hes going to consume - the one who will die.

as if you predict it

and that makes him so curious! youre such an annoyance ; a hazard to keep around. but what if you could predict the future? what if maybe you were just that observant?

it doesnt help that you arent afraid of him. most of the time, you simply stare and blink at him, like youre bored

and that starts his obsession with you

the women he takes to his room are reminescent of you. your eye color ; hair color ; height ; the way they speak ; the letter of their name - any similarity to you and theyre done

starts calling you "precious" , "chosen" , or "blessing" to make sure you know hes keeping an eye on you but to also make the other followers hate you

i think youd catch on but but this is where my thought stopped lmao

[sucker4sixx]

Relight my fire

Pt.3

Plot: i love you

Warnings: rebounds (?)

You wake up feeling groggy, laying on nikkis warm chest, your eyes drifting up to see him smoking, his eyes red with the hangover. Nikki never liked to smoke in his house but i guess rules were made to be broken. “Morning sweetheart” he smiles at you, stroking your hair and placing the cigarette in your mouth. You take a quick few puffs and pass it back “morning nikki..” “did we fuck?” He asks blandly, knowing its a ‘no’ but wanting to catch you off guard. “Oh my god, no. Im asleep here because i was comforting you about seeing beth” he nods, your explanation making more sense.

“She looked gorgeous last night.. like a princess” he mutters, his eyes not leaving that one spot in the wall he focused on to make himself not cry “sometimes i wonder.. if i had took the news of her cheating better and not done it back.. where would we be now” his eyes go all glassy “well.. youd probably be trying to fill the void that you once felt was filled by her because you knew she slept with another man” you suggest.. “probably, yeah” he falls silent, snubbing his cigarette out and cuddling you even closer, needing the affection. You run your hands through his hair as he closes his eyes “i just dont understand.. maybe im not perfect but i gave her everything i had to offer.. i put my job on the line for her too many times” he frowns, sighing, you kiss his forehead softly “its not your fault she couldnt see what a handsome, loving, sweet man she had..” you scratch his scalp gently “but now she does.. and i dont know what to do” his bottom lip trembles alittle.

“Nikki she wont treat you any different to what she did, it wont go well if you go for her” “i know, but i miss it.. i miss waking up every morning to my wife and making her breakfast and seeing her at my shows.. i just miss the feeling of being so utterly adored, now i feel like im nobodys.. somebody.. you know?” You tilt your head, trying to understand what he means “im no ones special person anymore.. i have no one that feels complete with me and that i feel completed by” he holds back tears as you scratch his scalp. Nikki was your ‘special person’ and it hurt knowing he didn’t recognise that. “Nikki… your my special person..” he looks up at you, smiling softly “sweetheart thats sweet but.. dont tell me stuff to make me feel better” “im being serious nikki.. i mean it, since ive been here ive just felt so complete” he sighs and moves down to kiss you softly again but you move back “your still in love with the your wife nikki..” you frown and get out of his bed, moving to the living room.

He comes into the living room awkwardly ten minutes later, his face alittle red “do you want breakfast?” You look up to him and nod, smiling “ill get a fry up going” he pats your shoulder and makes his way to the kitchen. He returns with two plates of a classic english fry up and sits beside you, both of you eating silently but thinking of the same thing.. his wife.

“Im sorry..” you start, Nikkis head turning to you “for letting myself become a sort of.. wife model to you.. that wasnt my intention” you search his eyes that sadden “no, i shouldnt have used you as a rebound..” he sees your eyes sadden this time “but its not like i dont have feelings for you, your the most gorgeous woman i know.. your personality is just amazing and you smile is unbelievable-“ “nikki your doing it again” he goes quite, it wasnt even intentional “i cant help it..” he whispers. “Nikki i dont wanna be your rebound, i dont want to be with you so you can forget temporarily but when you’re bored im going in the trash-“ “i wouldnt do that!” He exclaims, feelings frustrated that you think hes capable of hurting you so badly “i wouldnt do that to you” he moves closer, you look up at his desperate eyes and he leans down to kiss you, both of your lips meeting softly.

He moves you back and his hand holds your head, kissing you softly “i wouldn’t do that” he repeats between kisses as you both make out, its filled with love thats been hidden for years.. this was bound to happen “i love..” you cut him off with a kiss “dont say it nikki.. please dont say it” you beg him, he sighs and frowns, watching your desperate eyes “dont shut me down.. i really do love yo-“ hes cut off by the door knocking, he groans and gets up, answering it to his ex wife, she smiles wide and hugs him, you watch in shock from the couch. As she kisses him you storm to your bedroom, even though they had a history your feelings for nikki were getting undeniable and hard to ignore.

Not even 20 minutes later nikkis walking into your room and crawling in beside you, you look at him confused “is she..” “yeah.. i sent her home” his arms wrap around you and he holds you close, his large hands stroking your stomach softly, you cant help but smile.

“I love you”

[baby--b4t]

hihi!! fishie anon again with yet another minifc idea :3

m!reader who still hasn’t come to terms with the fact he regresses, so he tries to push the feelins away until it backfires, leaving baizhu, his s/o to babysit a rlly upset and pouty bb

-🐠

oh. my. goodness. FISHIE YOURE KILLING ME WITH THESE CUTE ASKS /pos. baizhu taking care of his baby boy that is in denial of being his baby boy?????? BAIZHU WHO CONSTANTLY REMINDS SAID BABY BOY THAT HE IS, IN FACT, HIS BABY BOY-

i love this. have a minificヾ(≧∇≦)ゞ

Things felt so hard and for no reason. It was like you were a toddler incapable of doing the most basic task, and you hated it. You told yourself that you wouldnt regress, that you wouldnt succumb to that, but your mind has other plans.

Baizhu had been organizing some recent deliveries when he stopped and listened, noticing it was oddly quiet. He usually never minded the quiet but today you had come with him to the pharmacy. It shouldnt have been silent like this.

“Darling?” Baizhu called out as he began wandering around the pharmacy, looking for you. Thats when he found you sitting behind a counter, your cheeks wet from crying and a book not too far from you. You had been trying to read and relax but the words on the page suddenly werent making sense. You got irritated and threw the book down in front of you.

Baizhu saw how upset you looked and it broke his heart. He gently crouched down in front of you and tilted your face to meet his.

“Whats the matter, dear? Why have you been crying alone?” Baizhu asked, wiping some of the wetness from your face. You felt your lip tremble as you told him everything. The regression, the book, and how you hated it all. He was patient and let you get all of your words out before responding.

“I see.. Why would you want to push away your regression, dear? You know its there because your brain needs to relax.” At this point Baizhu had coaxed you into his arms, the two of you sitting on the ground with each other. “If youre actively pushing away something your brain is giving to you as a sign of exhaustion, then it should be expected that youre going to get overwhelmed.”

You tried to hide your face in your hands, feeling like a shy toddler in your partners arms. Baizhu noticed this and chuckled softly.

“Is someone feeling a little shy?” He teased, lifting your chin so he could see your face. “Dont hide from me, sweetheart. Youre safe here.” A small kiss was placed on the side of your head, Baizhu letting you go back to hiding away in his arms. Eventually he had to get you to stand up and move somewhere more comfortable, but he was more focused on getting you to calm down.

“Sweet boy.. You know this is perfectly fine, right? Theres no shame in letting yourself heal.” Baizhu softened his voice, hoping it would help ease your mind a bit. All he got as a response from you was some angry whining. He let out a sigh that turned into a small laugh. “Youre such a stubborn little thing, you know that?” He teased.

The two of you finally got up and moved over to a more comfortable spot. He set you on one of the beds he usually used for his patients, but business had been a bit slow today. He just wanted you to feel like you could relax and what better place to do that than in a bed? Baizhu quickly learned the answer to that. The best place to relax was in your lovers arms.

You laid on his chest, head buried in the crook of his neck as he idly stroked your hair. Baizhu had set Changsheng down for a while and let her take a break from being with him all day, allowing you to take up the space she normally did. He smiled as he watched you calm down from your upset mood earlier. It melted his heart a bit to see you so sleepy cuddled up with him like this.

“Youre just my baby boy right now, arent you?” Baizhu mumbled softly, moving a few stray hairs out of your face. You whined and tried to hide your face from him, wanting to deny what he said forever. “Come now, you cant possibly cuddle with me like this and not be my baby boy! You look too sweet to deny that fact.” He added on with a slight giggle. He felt you huff against him, pouting as you didnt want to seem so small to him.

“Perhaps my baby boy should take a nap, hm? Crying and feeling all frustrated can make someone like you quite tired.” Baizhu gently pulled a blanket over the two of you. It wasnt an amazing blanket, but it was something nonetheless. He wrapped it around you slightly and held you closely. It was almost like he was trying to swaddle you without actually moving you too much. He just wanted to place you in the blanket like a cocoon, making you feel secure and safe.

“Rest now, my dear. Theres nothing that you need to worry about except relaxing.” Baizhu murmured, placing one last kiss on the crown of your head. His hand rubbed small circles in your back in an effort to coax you into sleeping. Even though you tried to hide it from him, he could see all of your exhaustion now. He was going to make sure his baby boy got the rest he needed.

[pastanest]

if you’re wondering why I’m having to repost this, or why you were perhaps previously following me but no longer are, please refer to this post. I was able to retrieve this thanks to @rosieathena - thanks so much!! ♡

Spencer Reid x she/her!reader

Just Give Me A Reason

You knew something particularly strange had happened that day at work. Spencer came home to you in a daze, unable to focus on anything you said. You sat him down on the couch and took ahold of his hand as you sat beside him.

“JJ...has feelings for me.”

From his voice and his state you could tell he was utterly bewildered, but that was nothing compared to the shock and horror his words instilled in you.

Every time you invited some of the team over for dinner, every time she invited you and Spencer over for dinner, every time there was a team-related party. You and JJ would share smiles and casual conversation. One drunk night, she admitted that Spencer had a crush on her years prior, which was something you’d already suspected. The alcohol in her system laughed and said she’d rejected him.

You had laughed with her. Always looked forward to seeing her. Hugged her. Watched her hug him. Seen him talk alone with her on countless occasions. And all this time, she was hiding that she had feelings for Spencer.

It shouldnt have bothered you, you and Spencer had been in a happy, loving relationship for three years. You lived together! But that only made it worse in your mind, why would JJ confess this now? What right did she have to try and ruin what Spencer had with you? Why would she jeopardise her marriage and her family for someone who isnt available?

The anger you possessed for her was overshadowed by confusion and numbing shock. You couldnt process it.

A week passed in a painful blur, and you still couldnt wrap your head around it. You refused invitations from friends to go out. You called in sick at the BAU everyday; you did attempt to go into work the day after you found out, but you couldnt get anything done. Seeing her just exist was enough to make you feel like you were on the brink of passing out, setting foot in the BAU was just not an option for you. Especially since you worked with Penelope, meaning every time the team flew out somewhere, you and her would be in your shared office, and JJ would be somewhere with Spencer where you couldnt see her, and that was worse. You were lost, you had lost yourself.

You told Spencer you were just sick, but both of you knew that wasnt true. Of course, he had been going to work everyday, he had been spending time with her. A sudden, sharp pain stabbed through your chest. It was a familiar pain, a frequent one you’d encountered regularly that week. He couldnt avoid spending time with her, it’s strictly professional, come on, you trust him. And you do. You just dont trust her.

That kind voice, sweet smile, gorgeous face, straight blonde hair, angelic laugh. Those beautiful eyes watching him. You thought Spencer had clearly been deemed off-limits, so you’d never truly taken the time to recognise JJ as competition. The reality was, you couldnt compete with her. She was stunning. She had known Spencer longer than you had, she probably knew him better than you did, she had helped him through so many things before he even knew you existed, and he’d already had a crush on her years ago. What chance did you have against that? Spencer was only human, you didnt expect him to have the strength to resist her.

And so, you shrivelled up inside yourself, a miniature version of you curled up and trembling inside the cold and empty casing of your body.

Spencer had begrudgingly gotten used to coming home and seeing you lying on the couch, staring at nothing, looking beyond unwell. He approached you quietly.

“Hey love.” His sad voice spoke to you as he gently took ahold of your hand, before immediately tucking it under the blanket that hid most of you from view. “Sweetheart, you’re freezing! I’ll go and make you some hot cocoa.”

You met Spencer’s eyes as his hand slipped away from you and he stood back up, making his way to the kitchen. Deciding to stretch your withered muscles, you sat yourself up, wrapping the blanket back around your shoulders despite it failing to warm your iced skeleton of a heart. Spencer’s phone rang in his pocket, he answered it on the second ring.

“JJ, now is not a good time, Im sorry, please dont call me tonight.”

His voice was hushed, you knew he was trying to hide the conversation in order to save your feelings, but your mind was already spiralling.

Now is not a good time, does he want her to call later? Dont call tonight? Has she been calling him on other nights? Is it a habit? Are they talking more often now?

Your hand grabbed at the searing pain that stabbed through your chest, it was worse than it had ever been before, you couldnt breathe. Everything hurt. You gasped for air loud enough to alert Spencer that something wasnt right and he ran to your side in an instant.

“(Y/N)? (Y/N)!?! What’s wrong? What’s the matter!?!”

One of his hands was on your back, the other was holding a phone to his ear, calling an ambulance. You couldnt answer him, everything was moving too fast, you couldnt keep up. It hurt, it hurt so bad. It only began to subside when you lost your vision and disappeared from yourself completely.

You awoke to the sound of a heart monitor and the feeling of a hand gently wrapped around yours. Attempting to open your eyes, you hissed and squinted in the light, lifting your free hand to shield your eyes. Spencer immediately sat up and sniffled, wiping away the tears that had rolled down his cheeks. He leant forward and carefully pulled you into his arms, lifting you up slightly off the hospital bed.

“Im so, so sorry, this is all my fault! I should’ve told you that JJ’s confession meant nothing to me, I should’ve told you that as soon as I explained what had happened! Im so sorry!” Spencer sobbed into your hair.

You rubbed circles in his back. “Shhh, it’s alright, what happened?”

He pulled away from you slightly so that you could see and hear him clearly. “Y-You experienced a stress induced myocardial infarction, wh-which is more commonly referred to as-“

“A heart attack.” You finished his sentence, recognising how difficult it was for him to talk about the pain you’d gone through.

“It’s all my fault (Y/N), Im so sorry, I never should have dwelled on what JJ said, it was just such a shock! I-It was so unexpected and I was struggling to process it but by focussing on that I didnt see the damage I was doing. I’ve ruined you, ruined us. B-But I’ll do whatever it takes to fix this! We, We can go to therapy, o-or we can take a break if that’s what’s best for you, I can leave the BAU and find a job elsewhere so that-“

You shook your head and Spencer halted his rambling so that he could listen to you.

“Spence, it’s oky, really. This isnt your fault. We dont need therapy, we dont need to take a break, and you certainly dont need to leave your dream job!” You explained.

“Then what do we need to do?” The desperation in his eyes was enough to break your heart all over again.

You squeezed his hand. “We just need to be us again.”

Spencer smiled with tears in his eyes. “We can do that.”

“WHERE IS SHE!?!” A voice you recognised shouted from down the corridor, and you grinned.

Your best friend, Emily Prentiss, stormed into your hospital room. She sighed with relief as soon as she saw you, and ran over to pull you into a hug.

“I got on a plane as soon as Spencer called! How long have you been awake?” She asked, checking you over for any wounds despite your heart not actually attacking you in a way that left physical scars.

“Only a few minutes, how did you get here so fast!?!” You questioned, because as far as you knew, Emily was still based in London.

Spencer squeezed your hand. “Love, you’ve been unconscious for 15 hours.”

Your eyes widened. “What!?!”

Emily nodded. “Spencer told me everything in a 3 second spurt of what was probably 4 pages of information, I cant believe this has happened.”

The doors to your room swung open again, and there stood the one person you didnt want to see.

Emily took a furious step towards the door but you grabbed her hand and shook your head at her, silently signalling it was fine.

“(Y/N), oh my goodness, I came as soon as I could! Are you-“

“Get out.” Spencer’s quiet, seething words silenced JJ immediately. He didnt even look up, his eyes were fixed on his hands holding yours, drawing patterns on your palm with his fingers.

“Wh-What?” She sounded confused and hurt, feigning obliviousness.

Spencer’s head slowly lifted and turned to her as he spoke. “Your actions were inappropriate, uncalled for, cruel and frankly selfish. Not only did you potentially destroy your own relationship, but you spared no consideration for my own. If you truly cared for me, you would care for my happiness, and if you truly knew me, you would know that the greatest happiness I have ever felt has come from being with (Y/N). You are my friend. She is the love of my life. Do not confuse the two.”

The last thing you saw was JJ’s eyes fill with tears before she ran out of the room. You expected to look at Spencer and see an amount of guilt already present, but you only saw certainty as he watched the space where JJ had been standing. His glance gravitated back to you, and his expression changed from certain about his actions, to certain about his love for you.

“Thank you.” The words were hoarse as they left your lips, your emotions getting the better of you.

Spencer lifted your hand to his face and placed a gentle kiss on each of your knuckles. “I knew if I didnt say something you would’ve jumped out of this hospital bed and given her a swift right hook, and you need to rest.” He joked.

Emily smirked, and you couldnt help but laugh. “I could’ve rested after a knuckle sandwich!”

Spencer shook his head and laughed. “Resting without assault charges sounds a lot more peaceful, dont you think?”

You smiled at him. “Yeah, I think you might be right about that.”

[voidwritesstuff]

A revenant past.

Cw: Hiraeth has a ptsd/anxiety attack.

Summary: Samael Summons the pale rider Hiraeth with troubling news to deliver about the rogue Nephilim, Death.

>Part of @alexatheris-44 Against Creation AU.

Blackstone Keep rumbled with the earthquakes below the floor,Hiraeth walks down the ebony floor with those golden cracks like gilded obsidian.

The halls are decorated with demon statues,paintings of horrible deaths and villany,Debauchery and tyranny.

Above her torches shone a blood red,the light from the damnation outside filtering through the vitraux with the images of the lord of blackstone Keep made the place coated in crimson like an inescapable bloodbath.

She makes it to the black throne,there sat her lover and lord of blackstone Keep,Samael.

--Lord of Blackstone Keep-- she made a small bow,out of courtesy and flirtatious in nature.

--Ataraxy,welcome-- Samael smirked, waving off the guards.-- Thank you for coming after such short notice, especially since its been only a few weeks since your...mishap.

--Well you did tell me it was of importance.

--Indeed--Now that they are all alone,he offers his hand and she jumps on it. He sets her on his horns and meets that grey eyed gaze that he loves so much-- I am aware you told me I shouldnt worry about that little blight that poisoned you,that he would be trapped in oblivion...

--I did tell you that,yeah-- Hiraeth answered,her hands resting on her lap as her cape drapes off her shoulders and billows with the slight movements of her partner's head.

--But I couldnt let it rest. It got under my skin..-- he continued,knowing he might- probably get an earful-- And a good thing I didnt. My spies have encountered the individual that dared strike you and take advantage of your kindness, he was clutching an amulet of teal...

Ataraxy feels her heart squeeze,dread settling on her chest like a congestion That fills her lungs and doesnt allow her to breathe.

--And...He wasnt alone. He was with a figure that you..might know-- his voice is hesitant,his eyes denote this certain fear of telling her the rest.

--Sammy,please not these cat and mouse games. This is serious-- She put a hand to his horn,her eyes softening and pleading silently.

He sighed,low and rumbling like a deadly mudslide. --He was seen with,who I believe to be,...Death.

Hiraeth's eyes widen,they fill with crystal clear like tears. Her hands go to her mouth as she begins to sob heavily,she curls into herself as her breath falters and she begins to gasp.

The lord of blackstone Keep grips his girl and brings her to his face. He craddles her in his hands and cooes to soothe her. What an unbecoming sight for the demon,soft as an angels feathers for a nephilim.

But he doesnt care,he tries his best to kiss away the tears even if they burn his skin with divinity.

Hes unsure on what to say,the grief and the Despair she felt was so overwhelming. There was a tangible fear and pity.

Ataraxy always felt that it was her responsability to kill Death. He was one of the first borns, and before she knew the atrocities he made of the Abomimations she thought him a just Man. One she admired.

She thought him dead,relieved from the pain of the slaughter. But hes back like a revenant and ready to take his vengeance.

She failed, she failed to kill him and she cant fail from protecting her siblings from him. War had already lost an arm to the reaper and if she were to lose her family the Despair would eat her whole and kill her.

Holy tears fell down her face,darkening as her blood Wells up in her cheeks. That dread clogs her chest like a bad cold,a sickness that was gripping her tight and not letting go. Her breath fails her,her heart beats out of her chest.

Body begins to feel light,her vision doubles and she begins to shake. Samael's eyes soften as she curls into herself,one of his hands stroke those fine,white hairs of hers.

--My dear..-- he called out with a gentleness so unbecoming of a demon lord-- My dear I need you to breathe...-- He began to curl around himself and cradle her in his body. He lays on his throne like a sleeping dragon,guarding his treasure.

Hiraeth wasnt paying attention to his voice,her gaze is unfocused as her mind replays all the memories of her past,of the massacre.

The screams,the bloodshed, the pleas for mercy, corpses falling with a morbid thud. No matter how hard she tries she cant give them a peacefull death. "Please sister! Please-No!!! Gah!".

Shes there,shes killing them again. They still bleed out reaching for her- All of them,dozens hundreds, thousands..

And he remains.

The shadow of demise walking away haggard and swearing vengeance upon The Four.

His eyes shine bright yellow,his anger a funeral pyre.

Her failure.

For what must have been hours, she cries a wailing a mournful cry. Her body shakes and she looks so fragile like brittle bones,easily crushable as dust. A small,withering flower in the dark.

Samael isnt sure what to do other than hold her and kissing away her tears. Eventually her breath evens out and she returns to herself.

With her eyes red from crying, She sits up and in silence she remains. She can tell,even in her state, that theres something else in his eyes something else hes not telling her.

--Wh-What else are you not telling me?-- she asked,reaching for his face. Her hands grip his rocky chin.

--...Nothing else.

--I can tell when youre lying to me-- Hiraeth insisted, shuffling closer.-- Samael, I need you to tell me. Death is dangerous and i need to stop him before he escalates.

He sighs,his warm breath hugging her skin--Hes going to Kothysos...

Ataraxy's eyes widen,she pulls back violently and she begins crawling out of his curled up body. He tries to Grab her,to tell her shes in no state to fight,but shes too slippery, and before he knows it...

Shes gone.

[grubfreak]

sighe ... am sleepy ...🌱🎼 thinkin ...

Him staying up much too late, work work workin on his things ... tired ... crabby ... and I wake up in the middle of it, wiping my sleepy face, seeing he is still awake ... I call out to him all groggy and slowly stumble up and wrap my arms around his shoulders and try to get him to come to bed ... but he is Set on workin ...

so i start kissin on Him gently and sleepily, from his cheekbones to his jaw, gently holding him to my chest from behind ... and he starts to get mildly distracted, but it isnt enough ... so I go from his jaw to his neck, gently tugging him in hopes of getting him off his seat ..... sigh

and it works ...

"Okay ... Okay. I'm... I'm coming."

I don't let go of him ...

He snuffs out his candles and slowly rises ans turns to wrap himself around me, and picks me up all nicely ... and he lays me down before he starts undressing with the intentions of just changing but I am sleepy and want to hold him more so I pull up to hold all the skin I can on him ... tummy and waist and hips and chest ... gently kissing his skin and he gets all flushy ... and then i start biting him and he gets even more flushy. .. sigh ...

"Buggy," his own voice is low and laced with exhaustion .... "you barely have your eyes open ... we shouldnt -"

"Hush, you ..." I kiss down his tummy .... to his waiiistbannndd ..... "You have been stressed all day .. let me make you feel ... nice ..."

I want to ..... Aagasgh (〃´𓎟`〃)

And he lets me ..... h

I gently tug his clothes off and pull him down with me and we get all snug ... and he makes sure i am ok and conscious and is all worried because he is always worried about stuff like this. . .. aa

I kiss over his skin again and wriggle down to his cock and its already getting hard just from peppered kisses and gentle touch ... siiiigh ♡ kissing its tip and looking up at him with sleepy eyes ...

"I love you..." I kiss ... "You work so hard ... let me ... make you feel nice ...♡" I kissssss ss ss... ♡♡♡♡ ♡♡♡♡

he is so flustered ... and shy and sweet and aaag!!! we are both so sleepy ... but that makes it better ..!!!! his off-color claws gently run through my hair as i kiss down the shaft and he gets harder with each little smooch and he starts feeling all fuzzy aaheehee... my pretty blue prince. . .. ego-boy♡

i yawn and instead of closing my mouth i wrap my lips around his tip and he shudders just a tiny bit ... so sensitive ... and pent up ..!!! he is gentle with my hair and relaxes just a little into the mattress as i make my way down his cock .. every inch filling my mouth , oh Joy. .. .. !!!⊹₊ ⋆

his breathing getting all shaky as i reward him for all his hard work ... letting his pretty blue lashes flutter shut and the tension leaving his body in the form of sultry little moans ... occasionally bucking his hips up into my face needily if i stray away for what He considers 'too long' ... his sleepy indigo eyes meeting my own so sweetly and he cant help but feel so happy because he loves me so much...

"My Cicada.." he breathes out ... "You always look ... so beautiful for me.. " aaah .. !!!!!!!!!! hh (〃´𓎟`〃)

and i go faster ... i cant help but wag my tail because i love seeing him relax and feel so happy and aah.. he is just so prettyyyy.. !!! my pretty boyyy ... ludbug ♡ every sound he makes and every staggered breath makes me feel fuzzy and i get hard too but let it be ... he is my focus right now ... even if i am already rutting a little against the bed .. ♡!♡

His breathing becoming heavier as i suck him off so nicely , my hands trailing up an down his chubby waist and then reaching up to his own ... and he moves one of his hands to hold mine and he squeezes it so tenderly it makes me wanna hurl ... romance ♡♡♡ relaxing so much into the bed he doesn't even realize that he is becoming a little loud and its okay .. i dont mind it, and it fuels me ... his joy fuels me .. ♡

"Oh, Cicada ... ♡" he croons ... it makes me wanna finish in my boxers but i hold off ... because it would be rude for me to do that i wouldnt wanna make a mess .....

He begins to hold me tighter, fingers interlacing with my hair to hold me down ... aaa ... i keep myself wrapped around his dick and let my tongue roam his length and he tastes sssooo goooodddhh. ... I cant help but moan .. i love himnm ..... mmm♡ and he gets closer .. and closer ..

He squeezes my hand tighter, bucking his hips up into my face and i feel every inch shoved inside and i love it i love it i love him.. with a sharp breath he would try to be quiet but oh. . . he cant help himself ... He cums inside my mouth and lets out such beautiful sounds that i end up cumming in my boxers too ... hand staggering against my boxers while the other squeezes his own ... he tastesss so good ... and i try to swallow him all, but theres ssooo much ... owh ... i pull away because i can only take so much in my mouth and i end up getting it on my face as i try to swallow the rest ... so good ... ♡!♡!

His body tingling so sweetly as he calms himself down ... perfect body expelling the last bits of cum on my face and i am too sleepy to care about the mess on me ... we both pant together and i lap up any mess left on his pretty cock and he twitches every time i do .. mm .... ♡⊹₊ his voice is so entrancing. .. .

"Oh, sweet boy ..." He'd wipe cum off my cheeks and i lick it off his hands ... i dont want it to be wasted .. it would make me sad ... "I didn't mean to .. make a mess on your pretty face ..."

"Shhhh .." I kiss up his cock, and wriggle up to his face and kiss his cheek ... and he holds me close and feels much more relaxed and sleepy ... and he completely forgot about the work he was engrossed in ... oh , joy..!!!! aaa ...

forgive me .. i am so sleepy . i love him so muxhhhhxnxnxbxbbd aaaa

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚��˚｡⋆૮(˶˃ᆺ˂˶)ა

[just-some-random-blogger]

"I didn't want to overstep"

My honest reacton

NOW *make a man out of your plays in the background* LETS GET DOWN TO BUSINESS

The splash of cold water against your ankle makes you grumble more. You hated getting your shoes wet. Or your ankles. You fix your hair scarf, worried that the sea breeze will make it come loose.

She is so me

As you look up, you see him. A man, with silver hair and a smug look on his face, riding atop a dragon. He is showing off, ducking low, the dragon’s tail dipping in the water before springing back up again. It is what is causing the breeze.

🙄 gago I hate him stfu

You marvel for a second, wondering how such a gigantic beast can be so nimble.

I WOULD LITERALLY HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON CARAXES AND LEAVE THIS PLACE

The man smiles. He winks at you.

The few captains and sailors that were on the docks alongside you have fled. But not you. Alone, silver hair in full display, you stand frozen in the same spot you had been before seeing him pass.

Main character things

Daemon would have so enjoyed to play such a game himself. His future bride was far too young to do little more than court under her parents’ watchful eyes.

🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢 YUCKKKK CAN HE JUST BE FUCKING NORMALLLLLLL CAN HE JUST BE FUCKING NORMALLLLLLLL YUCCKKKKKK

Your laughter was the first thing that caught his attention, a sound so girlish it seemed improper among the men carrying saws and woods for the ships.

We love to see it. DIVINE FEMININE

Daemon seethed. He hated sharing. With whores, it was to be expected, yet it didn’t make it anymore palatable. It was why he enjoyed taking maidenheads so much. Yet, he could ignore it if the woman was pretty or well-trained enough, like he did with Mysaria. To watch a whore with her lover, though, it was intolerable.

❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨 SHUT THE EVER LOVING FUCK UP????????? A MAN WILL WANT SOMETHING THEN THINK THEY ARE ENTITLED TO IT????? EAT SHIT AND DIE?????????

The man tickled your side, and you laughed again. You handed him the basket and kissed him on the cheek.

🧍‍♀️ oh. I personally don't fuck with strangers tickling me please goodness I hope it's addam

Whores were professional liars. You paid them to pretend to be someone they were not. But watching you with a man you truly loved would forever break the fantasy. There was no way he could believe the sweetest lies on your tongue, not when he knew what you looked like when truly in love.

Men shouldnt have rights

“I looked for you in the brothel, but you were not there.”

CRISTI WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS BULLSHIT I WILL RHAE ROYCE THIS FUCKING DEGENERATE

“I… Excuse me?” Your voice is shrill, more angered than panicked. “Do I know you?”

🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️STAB HIM????!!!!!

And oh, the nerve on you. The nerve to question him, as if he were just a passing man on the street and not a Prince of House Targaryen. The same nerve that drove you to stand your ground against Caraxes.

❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓ LICK THE BOTTOM OF MY SHOE YOU CAME TO ME???????? 🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🧱🧱🧱🧱🧱🧱🧱🧱🧱🧱

“You should be more careful on how you address your betters.”

?????????????? DONT TALK TO SOMEONE BENEATH YOU????? 100 YEARS IN JAIL????

You shove him, hard. And Daemon feels his rage bubbling up, and raises a hand to do something he will most likely regret… But before he can strike you, the man you had been smiling at steps in.

HE WAS WHAT????? 🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪 IM GOING TO FUCKING GOUGE HIS EYES OUT

“And who are you? The husband? The brothel owner?” Daemon sneers, getting in his face. Your hand comes up in between them, fragile and unadorned. Yet, you hit with strength, palm flat against his chest. Daemon laughs and grabs it between his. You attempt to pull back, but his grip is much firmer. “Ah, cupping a feeling, sweetheart?”

??????? BEAT HIS FUCKING ASSSSSS STAB HIM AND BASH HIS FUCKING FACE IN ALYNN???????

“I do not care. Unhand her. We do things different in Driftmark.”

STAB HIM CORLYSSSS

“YOU DO THINGS different here, for certain.” Prince Daemon says, appearing at your window while you knead bread.

CASUALLY BREAKING INTO PEOPLES HOUSES????????? POLICE 🚓🚨

“I won’t hurt you, my lady. I didn’t mean to scare you, either.” His voice is gentle, as if dealing with a spooked animal.

STAB HIM GURL STAB HIM RIGHT FUCKING NOW

As a child, you used to watch Laena Velaryon and pretend you were her.

You are no lady. You are a bastard girl, and you have gone to bed nearly starving more times than you could count.

)))): my poor girl. My baby girl

“Any child of mine, even if natural-born, would never have to go hungry. Your father should be doing more for you, not hiding you three like a shameful secret.”

Am I supposed to be impressed? Am I supposed to pat you on the back?

“Here.” Prince Daemon pushes the parcel through the window. “Consider this my apology for my behavior. Rather uncouth, huh?”

Baho mo gago

Curious, you peer into one of the parcels. It’s full of cured meat.it would have cost him a pretty penny, having it already preserved for you. It is a luxury Addam, Allyn and you never get to have. Not since your mother passed.

))): I hate this so much for them

He says it is because he enjoys the walk. You are not entirely sold, but thinking it is to see you seems a bit conceited.

Be conceited diva WHO IS THIS DIVAAA

Daemon laughs. He uses his now free hand to tug you towards his side. You love when he does that. The gesture feels very protective. He never lets you walk too far from him, or on the side next to the ocean, so you never stumble or get soaked by an errant wave.

Ew

“Wouldn’t you like to go somewhere else?” You ask him, watching the waves lap at the shore. Then, feeling stupid for asking, you lower your eyes. As much as you feign blindness, you are not blind. He is probably ashamed to be seen with the likes of you. Even your father is. Why wouldn’t a Prince?

I believe all men should experience the pain of child birth and labor constantly forever

Your eyes feel warm, and your vision blurs. Gods, you hate crying.

“Close enough. A tad more lemony than the one at Driftmark, but I like it.” He smiles. You fight the urge to beam. He has been coming almost daily after bringing you the lemons, but it is the first time you allow him to taste your creation.

First of all fuck you second of all you're not cute third of all ITS HER FIRST TIME fourth of all I'm glad you can AT LEAST make her happy. THE BAR IS IN HELL

Your mother and you are different. She didn’t know your father was using her. You know Daemon is using you. And you intend to use him right back, milk him for all of his worth.

💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔 MILK HIM BLEED HIM SUCK HIM DRY

What your father is like, too. How they use women as if they were little more than things, how they produce children and leave them to their fates.

Not all men EXPLAIN THIS THEN

“Do you listen to yourself?” You scoff, getting up. “Maidenheads, as if I were some great lady. I can handle it. Handle him.”

😬 yeesh famous last words

“To my room. The two of you have ruined my appetite.” But it wasn’t the two of them, not really. Daemon is ashamed of you, the voice in your head whispers. Ashamed of you, just like your father was. He only wants to use you, and once he has had his fill, he will discard you. Just like your father did to your mother.

MY POOR GIRL MY POOR POOR GIRL

Yet, your dark eyes were so kind, your face full of such happiness, Daemon dared not to sully you. Something in you screamed at his instincts to protect, something tugged at his heartstrings when he saw your face scrunched up towards the sun, and told him to gather you in his arms and never let anything touch you.

BROTHER EUGHHHH GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HER GIRL RUNNNN ILL WWE ROYAL RUMBLE SMACK DOWN ELBOW TO THE FACE STEEL CHAIR THIS BOZO

Bedding you would ruin you. Daemon enjoyed playing the role of mentor, teaching you new things, helping you gain experiences you would never get as a bastard girl. Yet, you had such a tempting figure, with a mouth made for sin, and a body that begged for worship. You were a little girl, but you had all the self-possession and looks of a grown woman.

MY FUCKING GOODNESS CAN HE JUST BE FUCKING NORMAL IS IT SO HARD FOR HIM NOT TO FUCKING THINK WITH HIS COCK FUCK YOU DIE

“I was thinking…” Daemon says, watching your expression closely. “We could go to a tavern tonight.”

You think? Terrible idea btw fuck off

“It’s rowdy, but in a good sense.” Daemon cannot help it. Your curls are a bit mussed, from wearing the ugly headscarf for too long. He fixes them, fluffing them up slightly at the roots in the way he has seen handmaidens do for Laena. He then tosses the damn thing into the sea, for good measure, ignoring your outraged cry. “Drinks, music, people, greasy food. You will love it.”

NOTHING IS FUCKING SACRED LITERALLY KEEP YOUR HANDS RO YOURSELF MY SCARF IS MY BUSINESS YOU HAVE TERRIBLE MANNERS AND YET IM THE PEASANT FUCK YOU CHOKE ON YOUR GREASY FOOD I HOPE THE ROWDY CROWDS TEAR YOU APART

“I hate drinking.” You wrinkle your nose, cutely. He fights the urge to bite you. The face you make is too sweet, too tempting.

Why would you write him this way. Why is this endearing. HAJIMA STOP

“Because you have only drunk swill. I’ll teach you to drink real wine.” He tugs you into his side, and begins walking back into the city.

Ok alcoholic.

Still, you face it all bravely, as you had that morning at the docks. The two of you manage to get a cozy table in one tavern that Daemon had visited before. He calls for wine to be served, an expensive barrel from the Arbor he is sure they had kept around for years before anyone had the coin to buy it.

No cuz she's better than me I fucking hate being stared at I hatttttteere it she's so much better than me

“Come here, hunes.” His own voice sounds strange to him, low and demanding. When he calls you bunny, he is not exaggerating. Does the fox feel as wrong as he feels when becoming over his prey? Does his gums ache like Daemon’s do, with the urge to bite, to tear apart, to wound? Does he mourn the little bunny whose innocence he is about to shatter? “There is something I wish to show you.”

So you agree

You're a predator

You splutter, but Daemon holds you down, arms held by your side. He forces you to take and take some more, chasing the tart taste of the wine into the honeyed one of your mouth.

NDJDJD YUCCKKKKK (I'm into this shit) YUCCKKKK FUCKING HELL DIE RUNNNNN GIRL RUNNN

“Do you trust me?”

Absolute the fuck not. Eat broken glass

“I did not think it to be true.” A woman’s voice, one he knows too well, says. Rhaenys. Her face is a mask of absolute rage. She gives you a shove that sends you stumbling before Daemon can even get out of his chair. “You have much nerve.”

RHAENYSSSS NOOOO PLEASEEE NOOOO NOT THE VILLAIN ARC NOOO PLEASE )))): I DO NAWT BLAME HER BUT NDJDJNDKSKSKKSKS

“I am talking to you!” Rhaenys insists. You cower behind him. It only makes Rhaenys angrier. “No, not you, you stupid girl. You, Daemon.”

THE WAY I FUCKING SCREAMMMEDDS

BEATTTTT HISS ASSSSS

🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️BEATTTT HISSS ASSSSS

“Are you calling me a whore?”

Well I ain't callin yo ass a prude IF THE SHOE FITS DIPSHIT

He feels the slap before he even sees her move. His head gets forcefully turned to the side, and he hears you whimper. His cheek stings. Daemon has to blink back tears, Rhaenys has hit him that hard.

IM DOING A DANCY DANCE LITERALLY EXPLODE

What Daemon had done to you had seemed purposeful. You had not realized when he had stolen the kiss from you, giving you your first taste of fine wine, but you understood it now. Had Princess Rhaenys not been there, or had she been any less merciful, a much different fate would have awaited you.

😭😭😭😭😭 IM CRYING MY POOR POOR GIRLLLL

“Daughter.”

😃🔪🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕

“It’s a pleasure to finally have you join the family.”

BURN IN HELL ❤️

Addam and Allyn are still in the crowd, unacknowledged. They are your family, not this man who is grasping your hands with a calculating gleam in his eyes. Wondering, as all highborn do, how he might use you. How you might serve to further his own ends.

))))))))))))))))):

“I figured you wouldn’t have one of these.” Her smile is strained as she reaches for your hands. “Since you weren’t raised the proper way.”

FUCKING HELLLLSSSSSS DAMNNNNN MDIRNSJJSJSNSJSMSKANSNNSSJAJAKAKAKAKAKAKJANANAN STOPPPPPP

“I do not think I will.” Daemon cups your cheek in his hand, hands gentle despite the calluses on them. It was one of the things you had first liked about him. His hands were artisan’s hands, like the ones of your brothers, despite being highborn. He had seemed so different from the rest of the men you knew, back then. “Not when my betrothed is nearly weeping in her own feast.”

? I don't like you never have never will I hope you have a heart attack

You bloom under his praise.

I hate that for you.... *Sigh* congrats ig

There is no other word for it. It warms you, from head to toe, and your stomach fills with butterflies. A small smile forms, even through the tears that threaten to fall.

)))): I hate this for you so much baby girl

“There she is.” Daemon brushes his thumb over your cheek. “That’s my girl.”

? Ok? Get it ig. Fuck shit up for her. It's the only thing you're good for.

“Be mine instead.” Daemon whispers, and when you nod, he kisses your forehead.

Oh that's not

“I would protect you.” You say, and it warms something inside Daemon he wasn’t even aware that he had. “If only because killing a Prince is a crime worthy of the ax, and I wish to have nephews.”

😭😭😭😭😭 my girllllll. Get it ig. I'm glad she's happy. That's all that matters

THIS WAS A RIDE. I LOVE HOW MUCH I HATE HIM. I HOPE HE DIES 😃😃😃😃

On a real level, it made me think how fascinated I am in exploring themes such as gender class whatnot and how I as a writer myself am unashamed to admit 'yeah I write daemon fucked up, s'part of the appeal' while simultaneously just being unwilling to let him take the piss ya know HAHAHAH LIKE I WONT DEFEND THIS MAN HES FUCKED UP AND FICTIONAL DIEEEEE ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

The Brave (Daemon Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: A collection of first times with Daemon.

Warnings: Bastard! Reader. Daddy issues. Corruption kink. Innocence kink. Age difference, power imbalance. Poorly translated HV. Angst. Enemies to lovers (Sort of?) Happy ending. Usual warnings for Daemon (Sexual thoughts, mature language, violence)

Requested: Yes! My first after Halloween, life has been crazy.

THE FISHERMEN SAIL too early for your liking. You know it has little to do with their personal preference, and more to do with the tides. It doesn’t mean you are happy about it, though.

Your job is to ensure all your ships are in good condition and ready to transport whatever those men bring home. Your mother had made a small fortune by expanding her father’s fleet, and after her passing, it was your turn to handle it. You preferred to oversee things personally, knowing that only an owner’s touch could ensure the quality of service you prided yourself in.

No one loved these ships more than you. Small and old they were, but they tied you to your mother. You lacked her knowledge, and sometimes, they made you far less money than you hoped for, but you insisted on keeping them. Your siblings had not shown such an interest, choosing other pursuits.

Allyn, much more practical, had preferred to learn the trade of a shipwright. He now worked under Lord Corlys. It embarrassed you to say it, but it was him and not you who was the breadwinner of your family. Some months, if not most, it was far more lucrative than your business with the ships.

Addam worked occasionally as a shipwright too, but he didn’t have a steady source of income. He was far too young to be hired anywhere, lacking the experience most lords wanted from those building their ships. Sometimes, he also helped you.

Today wasn’t one of those days. Otherwise, you would have forced him to come here in your stead. With a grumble, you jumped from the ship to the dock. Everything was as it should, so you had to move to the next one.

The sunrise makes Hull look even more beautiful, the city slowly beginning to rise under Driftmark’s watchful eyes. The white marble and ivory of the castle provide a backdrop for the goldens and pinks that color the scene. It would make you smile, were it not for the fact that the peaceful morning is ruined by every damn bell in the city tolling.

Visitors. Noble ones. By the amount of noise, they are announcing the visit of someone very high ranking.

The splash of cold water against your ankle makes you grumble more. You hated getting your shoes wet. Or your ankles. You fix your hair scarf, worried that the sea breeze will make it come loose.

You shouldn’t have bothered. A harsh gust of wind takes it fully off and nearly sends you caroling into the water. The dock shakes underneath you, the ships and water agitated by the same thing. You scream, as do the rest of the sailors who are near.

As you look up, you see him. A man, with silver hair and a smug look on his face, riding atop a dragon. He is showing off, ducking low, the dragon’s tail dipping in the water before springing back up again. It is what is causing the breeze. You marvel for a second, wondering how such a gigantic beast can be so nimble.

You had never seen a dragon up close before. You are not allowed to go near Driftmark, where the Princess and the Lord and Lady keep theirs.

The few captains and sailors that were on the docks alongside you have fled. But not you. Alone, silver hair in full display, you stand frozen in the same spot you had been before seeing him pass.

The man smiles. He winks at you.

You lower your eyes and do not stop running until you are safe at home.

DAEMON SEES YOU again when he least expects it. He has looked for you in every pleasure house on this island and has not been able to find you. The brave little maiden with silver hair, who had screamed bloody murder but stood her ground on the docks when she saw him approach.

You must be of Valyrian descent. There is no other explanation for your lack of fear. You were young and comely, so he had guessed that you must be a whore. It was what happened to girls who looked like you. Men loved pretending they were either a Princess or the daughter of some lord. And so close to Driftmark? They probably asked you to pretend you were little Laena Velaryon.

Daemon would have so enjoyed to play such a game himself. His future bride was far too young to do little more than court under her parents’ watchful eyes. If he could sneak a bit of a taste in advance, you wouldn’t catch him complaining about it.

When he had agreed to accompany Corlys to oversee the progress being made on the news ships for his fleet, the last thing he expected to encounter was you.

Your laughter was the first thing that caught his attention, a sound so girlish it seemed improper among the men carrying saws and woods for the ships. His head had turned instinctively towards the sound, and it was then that he saw you.

The dress you had on was a plain gray, as it was the headscarf you wore. But Daemon would know that face anywhere. He had sought everywhere for it. You were holding a small basket, next to some shipwright. The man looked older than you, already bald. You were all smiles and animated gestures, seemingly taken by him.

The man tickled your side, and you laughed again. You handed him the basket and kissed him on the cheek.

Daemon seethed. He hated sharing. With whores, it was to be expected, yet it didn’t make it anymore palatable. It was why he enjoyed taking maidenheads so much. Yet, he could ignore it if the woman was pretty or well-trained enough, like he did with Mysaria. To watch a whore with her lover, though, it was intolerable.

Whores were professional liars. You paid them to pretend to be someone they were not. But watching you with a man you truly loved would forever break the fantasy. There was no way he could believe the sweetest lies on your tongue, not when he knew what you looked like when truly in love.

Is it in bad taste to approach you when his future father-in-law is distracted by his sailors? Probably. But he cannot stop himself. Because the only thing Daemon can think of, the only thing that would make him feel better, is to bring you as low as he. Ruin your little fantasy as you had ruined his.

He marches towards where the man and you are, and gently cups your chin in his hand. The sudden interruption startles you, and you try taking a step back, but his sweet hold has turned into Valyrian Steel. There is no escape for little whores.

“I looked for you in the brothel, but you were not there.”

“I… Excuse me?” Your voice is shrill, more angered than panicked. “Do I know you?”

And oh, the nerve on you. The nerve to question him, as if he were just a passing man on the street and not a Prince of House Targaryen. The same nerve that drove you to stand your ground against Caraxes.

Begrudgingly, Daemon has to name the strange feeling taking place in his stomach. Awe. Admiration. You had fire in your belly, and steel on your spine. You were a truer Valyrian than many of his own family members.

They were weak. Soft. You were not. But you were still a mere peasant, and he couldn’t allow you to disrespect him such.

“You should be more careful on how you address your betters.”

You shove him, hard. And Daemon feels his rage bubbling up, and raises a hand to do something he will most likely regret… But before he can strike you, the man you had been smiling at steps in.

“Unhand her.” He says, voice firm. His expression doesn’t waver, the same steel you have mirrored in his brown eyes. Up close, he is much younger than Daemon expected, tall and muscular from what seems like a life of hard work. He tugs you behind him.

“And who are you? The husband? The brothel owner?” Daemon sneers, getting in his face. Your hand comes up in between them, fragile and unadorned. Yet, you hit with strength, palm flat against his chest. Daemon laughs and grabs it between his. You attempt to pull back, but his grip is much firmer. “Ah, cupping a feeling, sweetheart?”

“Daemon.” And really, things were just turning interesting. Why does Corlys have to interrupt at the worst time possible? “Unhand her immediately.”

At his appearance, both you and the boy turn an awful gray shade that matches your dress and headscarf. Fear of their liege, perhaps?

But the boy’s jaw ticks, and your dark eyes lower in a manner that they hadn’t when facing him. Something else is at play here.

“I was just…” Daemon slowly retracts his hand, studying the surrounding faces carefully. You, sullen, the boy enraged. Corlys’ cold as ice. Neither of you speak, yet it is clear you are not strangers.

“I do not care. Unhand her. We do things different in Driftmark.”

And the tone Corlys uses is strange, for a man unbothered by the costs of power. What are two peasants to the favor of a Prince? Why does he know them? He had never struck Daemon as someone concerned by his subjects.

And then, a piece of your hair falls out of your headscarf. Silver against a dark background. And it is then he knows it. You are no dragonseed. Nor is the boy with the shaved head.

“YOU DO THINGS different here, for certain.” Prince Daemon says, appearing at your window while you knead bread. His presence is as unexpected as it is unwelcome. It is the first time you are home alone after the incident, not Addam nor Allyn willing to risk this stranger attempting anything worse than he already has. Three days had passed, and they had considered it enough. If the man had not approached you during that time, it meant he wouldn’t, right? Clearly no. He had just been bidding his time, waiting for both of your brothers to go. “Corlys's little secret.”

Your hands shake. You wished Allyn wasn’t so set on teaching Addam his craft, and hadn’t gone out today. Being home alone with a strange man around didn’t spell anything good for you.

A quick glance at the door reassures you that it is still barred. You take a not so subtle step back from the window.

The prince lip’s quirk upwards, not quite a smile, but betraying his amusement. Does he find your fear funny?

“I won’t hurt you, my lady. I didn’t mean to scare you, either.” His voice is gentle, as if dealing with a spooked animal. The title makes you scoff. No one has ever called you a lady, much less a Prince.

As a child, you used to watch Laena Velaryon and pretend you were her. Wondering what life would have been like if you didn’t have to hide, if your father acknowledged you. Wondering what it would feel, to be a Lady and never go to bed hungry, to be surrounded by beauty all day.

You are no lady. You are a bastard girl, and you have gone to bed nearly starving more times than you could count.

As if sensing your thoughts, Prince Daemon lifts one of his hands. He holds up a package, wrapped in bright white silk. Both he and his gift look deeply out of place here, near your window. In his fine clothes, in brighter colors than you can afford, he sticks out like a sore thumb.

“Any child of mine, even if natural-born, would never have to go hungry. Your father should be doing more for you, not hiding you three like a shameful secret.”

You do not take the parcel. You merely look at him and fight an overwhelming urge to cry.

“Here.” Prince Daemon pushes the parcel through the window. “Consider this my apology for my behavior. Rather uncouth, huh?”

You open it carefully. Two smaller parcels fall from it, both as carefully wrapped.

“You can wear the silk.” He tells you, gesturing to your hair. “And the rest…”

Curious, you peer into one of the parcels. It’s full of cured meat.it would have cost him a pretty penny, having it already preserved for you. It is a luxury Addam, Allyn and you never get to have. Not since your mother passed.

With rushed hands, you open the other parcel. A small sack of flour, lemons, and pages torn from a book. They are all expensive things, nothing like the flour you buy at the market to make bread or the bruised fruit you get when Addam craves something sweet. You squint at the pages, puzzled by their presence.

“Mix one cup of flour with… Is this..?” You ask him, astonished. A small smile begins to form on your face.

“The recipe for lemon cakes. For your baking.” He smiles back. He then gestures to your hands, still covered in flour. “I hear you enjoy it. Just… Save me a piece.”

“Thank you.” You beam at him. He gives you a bow, and leaves. You find yourself smiling like a fool the rest of the afternoon.

You cannot believe it. Prince Daemon has just given you the recipe for lemon cakes. As far apologies go, this is a great one.

Addam and Allyn go to bed with full stomachs. You go to bed with yours full of butterflies. No one has ever ensured such for the three of you.

“IS IT CLOSE enough?” You bite your lower lip, watching Daemon chew a piece of cake. His brows furrow a bit, and he lets out a small, throaty moan.

“Close enough. A tad more lemony than the one at Driftmark, but I like it.” He smiles. You fight the urge to beam. He has been coming almost daily after bringing you the lemons, but it is the first time you allow him to taste your creation.

He says it is because he enjoys the walk. You are not entirely sold, but thinking it is to see you seems a bit conceited.

“I got excited.” You scratch the back of your neck, sheepish. The batter had smelt and tasted so heavenly, you had just kept adding more.

Daemon laughs. He uses his now free hand to tug you towards his side. You love when he does that. The gesture feels very protective. He never lets you walk too far from him, or on the side next to the ocean, so you never stumble or get soaked by an errant wave.

It’s peaceful here. He often says he cares not for the ocean, but the two of you always walk the same route. From your home, towards your ships, then back.

“Wouldn’t you like to go somewhere else?” You ask him, watching the waves lap at the shore. Then, feeling stupid for asking, you lower your eyes. As much as you feign blindness, you are not blind. He is probably ashamed to be seen with the likes of you. Even your father is. Why wouldn’t a Prince?

Your eyes feel warm, and your vision blurs. Gods, you hate crying. You try to focus on something else. Your scuffed shoes. His boots. The sand under your feet. The urge to run away, and scream, and die from the humiliation of even asking.

Daemon sighs. He sits down on the sand, patting the space on his side. His clothes, despite their simple design, are very fine.

“Your clothes…” You mumble, without sitting.

“Bah, I have three other cloaks like this one.” As if proving a point, he takes it off, laying it down for you to sit. You feel even sillier at his patience. “Come. Sit down, jorrāeliarzys.”

You obey him because there is little else to do. You have already messed up, you don’t wish to make any other mistake. His company has become precious to you, a welcome respite from your brothers. Living with two boys, you are never alone. But every so often, you wish for more engaging conversation.

“I am not ashamed of being seen in your company. I just… I thought you preferred it here.” Daemon explains, softly tucking a stray curl behind your ear. “Would you like for us to meet in the city, instead?”

You think of meeting him in the city’s market. Of the rumors that would sure follow, of the names you would be called. Of your father finding out. You know what it would look like to him. That you are making the same mistake as your mother did.

You are not dumb. Daemon is not here to simply plan an alliance. Alliances are always sealed in blood, and your half sister is barely old enough to be considered.

Your mother and you are different. She didn’t know your father was using her. You know Daemon is using you. And you intend to use him right back, milk him for all of his worth.

So why does it hurt like this, why does it feel like something inside you is breaking?

You take the parcels he gives you without any shame. That night, as the three of you are eating a generous serving of venison, Allyn scowls.

“I don’t like it. Can’t you see what he wants?”

Addam’s fork freezes midway to his mouth. He looks down at his plate, as if he is truly seeing the meat he is being served for the first time.

“I am not mother.” You say, icily. The venison tastes bitter on your tongue, but stubbornly, you keep eating. Allyn is just angry that it is not longer him who is putting the meals on the table. “I know what highborn men are like.”

What your father is like, too. How they use women as if they were little more than things, how they produce children and leave them to their fates.

“All the more reason not to allow him to take your maidenhead.”

“Do you listen to yourself?” You scoff, getting up. “Maidenheads, as if I were some great lady. I can handle it. Handle him.”

Allyn looks at you, eyes full of pity. You cannot bear it. Your eyes sting again. You hurry out of the table.

“Where are you going?” Addam reaches forward, as if to grab you.

“To my room. The two of you have ruined my appetite.” But it wasn’t the two of them, not really. Daemon is ashamed of you, the voice in your head whispers. Ashamed of you, just like your father was. He only wants to use you, and once he has had his fill, he will discard you. Just like your father did to your mother.

Alone, in your room, you tear the headscarf he had given you to shreds. You squeeze the rests on your palm, you make a ball, you throw it against the wall.

The next morning, you have sobbed your throat raw. You still go to meet him in the afternoon.

SOMETHING IS WRONG. Daemon can tell when he picks you up that day. Your eyes are swollen and bloodshot, and your complexion an awful gray. The headscarf he had given you is nowhere to be seen, and you are back to your severe gray one.

Like a bad case of heartburn, the lie he had told you comes back to him, leaving an acrid taste in his mouth.

Daemon is not ashamed of you, but doesn't want to be seen with you either. The consequences for you would be too great. He had learned his lesson with Mysaria. The double stain would have made you a pariah, both because of your birth and because of whom you were bedding.

Because it was all that people would think about when they found out. No one would believe Daemon had yet to touch you.

He was unsure if he ever would.

You were an extraordinary girl, yet still a bastard. There was nothing to be done about it. All you could be was friends and lovers, and nothing more.

Yet, your dark eyes were so kind, your face full of such happiness, Daemon dared not to sully you. Something in you screamed at his instincts to protect, something tugged at his heartstrings when he saw your face scrunched up towards the sun, and told him to gather you in his arms and never let anything touch you.

Daemon had been like you, once. When younger. He, too, felt a lack of acknowledgement by those around you, and an urge to prove himself. His father had passed when he was still young, and Viserys had received all laurels. It would have never bothered him because he loved his brother, but Viserys had left him behind. Married Aemma. Had children. Gained the love of his people, found new friends.

Never once Viserys had looked at Daemon. No matter how hard he tried to reach for him, his brother always evaded his hand. Daemon had been left there. He, too, had stood on the shadows and feigned indifference, burning up with secret resentment.

The idea of you growing up to be like him was both appealing and horrifying. There was a sweetness to you, a naïveté that he had lacked even in his younger years. He wanted to preserve it. Shield you from the world.

Bedding you would ruin you. Daemon enjoyed playing the role of mentor, teaching you new things, helping you gain experiences you would never get as a bastard girl. Yet, you had such a tempting figure, with a mouth made for sin, and a body that begged for worship. You were a little girl, but you had all the self-possession and looks of a grown woman.

You would taste exquisite on his tongue, crumbling from his caresses. Your cunt would feel like wet velvet around him, and you would sound your sweetest when he was spearing you open on his cock.

And how would you smile, joyous and fierce, his brave girl. Some maidens cried, but not you. You were made of sterner stuff, a heart that burned brighter and stronger than the Fourteen Flames. You had stood your ground, terrified but unbowed, in front of Caraxes himself.

Such a face you had, all Valyrian empress. A sovereign nose, the fleeting shadow of your eyelashes, and a slippery laugh that always gave you an air of mischief. A face not made for sadness. It is what prompts him to do what will become either the greatest mistake of his life, or his greatest triumph.

“I was thinking…” Daemon says, watching your expression closely. “We could go to a tavern tonight.”

“A tavern?” The surprising offering shakes you out of your sadness. Your face changes from a sad little frown into a curious one.

“Have you ever gone to one?” Daemon tugs the hair scarf from your hair, softly. The silver curls fall free, in a lovely mess. You scowl, trying to get it back, but he holds it just out of your reach. It’s a lovely thing, to watch you give little jumps on your tiptoes, curls bouncing with the motion. “Ah! None of that, now. Answer my question first.”

“No, I haven’t. Addam and Allyn go from time to time, but it sounds too rowdy for my liking.” You cross your arms over your chest.

“It’s rowdy, but in a good sense.” Daemon cannot help it. Your curls are a bit mussed, from wearing the ugly headscarf for too long. He fixes them, fluffing them up slightly at the roots in the way he has seen handmaidens do for Laena. He then tosses the damn thing into the sea, for good measure, ignoring your outraged cry. “Drinks, music, people, greasy food. You will love it.”

“I hate drinking.” You wrinkle your nose, cutely. He fights the urge to bite you. The face you make is too sweet, too tempting.

“Because you have only drunk swill. I’ll teach you to drink real wine.” He tugs you into his side, and begins walking back into the city.

The walk to the city is awkward. Not because the two of you have nothing to talk about, but rather, because of the stares. Your silver hair, despite your simple clothing, commands attention. So does Daemon’s presence, and the arm he has around your shoulders.

He had not been wrong. This would cost you. A cost too steep for someone he sought to keep safe.

Still, you face it all bravely, as you had that morning at the docks. The two of you manage to get a cozy table in one tavern that Daemon had visited before. He calls for wine to be served, an expensive barrel from the Arbor he is sure they had kept around for years before anyone had the coin to buy it.

It’s delicious. But when he serves you a goblet, you take a big sip and begin to splutter.

“Mittys hunes iksā.” Daemon tuts. His silly bunny. “You are not meant to drink it such. You ought to savor it.”

“Savor?” You arch an eyebrow. “Tastes like dragonfire.”

And perhaps it's the choice of words, or the glint of your silver hair under the low light emanating from the torches, but something about you reminds him of the way he had loved Rhaenyra and admired Laena, the other Valyrian beauties in his life. They are not here, he cannot reach them. But you are.

“Come here, hunes.” His own voice sounds strange to him, low and demanding. When he calls you bunny, he is not exaggerating. Does the fox feel as wrong as he feels when becoming over his prey? Does his gums ache like Daemon’s do, with the urge to bite, to tear apart, to wound? Does he mourn the little bunny whose innocence he is about to shatter? “There is something I wish to show you.”

You eye him warily, but get up from your chair and move until you are standing in front of him. It's not enough for Daemon. It never is. He always wants you closer, closer to hold, to protect, to own.

He tugs you between his parted legs.

“Do you trust me?”

There is a slight furrow of your brow. The barest hint of hesitation. Yet, your voice is firm when you answer him.

“Yes.”

His girl. His precious girl. If you had been his, he would have never hurt you like Corlys had. Never allowed to become easy prey for men like him. You shouldn’t trust him.

Daemon shouldn’t be doing this, either. It is a good thing he has never claimed to be a good man.

He takes a sip of his wine, and leans towards you, capturing your mouth in his. At first, you fight him, the suddenness startling you. It’s only when he gives your lower lip a sharp nip, that you melt into the kiss. When your mouth parts slightly, he passes you the wine.

You splutter, but Daemon holds you down, arms held by your side. He forces you to take and take some more, chasing the tart taste of the wine into the honeyed one of your mouth.

Your obedience and compliance only makes him wilder, drives him to grasp at your hips, pull you closer. Just when you begin to lean into Daemon, dutifully swallowing the wine, someone jerks you out of his grip.

“I did not think it to be true.” A woman’s voice, one he knows too well, says. Rhaenys. Her face is a mask of absolute rage. She gives you a shove that sends you stumbling before Daemon can even get out of his chair. “You have much nerve.”

Your face turns ashen. You look like you are about to cry, or worse, flee. Daemon jumps up, and gets between Rhaenys and you.

“You were always a whore!” She screams, her index finger digging into his chest. You let out a sob, quietly. Daemon’s heart feels like it is being wrenched from his chest. At this point, the screams have attracted all the tavern's attention. Daemon doesn’t doubt that by this time tomorrow, the whole island will know.

You will be shunned. Just as he had feared.

“I am talking to you!” Rhaenys insists. You cower behind him. It only makes Rhaenys angrier. “No, not you, you stupid girl. You, Daemon.”

Daemon feels utterly stunned. Never in a million years he would have thought Rhaenys was referring to him.

“Are you calling me a whore?”

He feels the slap before he even sees her move. His head gets forcefully turned to the side, and he hears you whimper. His cheek stings. Daemon has to blink back tears, Rhaenys has hit him that hard.

He wasn’t even aware that a woman could land such a blow.

“You dare! You toyed with my daughter and this girl as you saw fit.” And Daemon cannot even get a word in because she is too angry. He feels his cheeks reddening, and its unsure if he is feeling embarrassment at being scolded like a child, or rage at her words. “But worry not. I will make this right.”

Rhaenys has a manic gleam in her eyes. For a frightening second, Daemon thinks he sees in her the famous Targaryen madness.

Instead of setting you both on fire, she lunges, avoiding Daemon, and grabbing you hands in hers.

“I shall not allow you to make the same mistake your mother did.” Rhaenys says, and she is gone before Daemon can answer anything.

THIS IS YOUR greatest triumph. Why, then, does it taste like ashes on your tongue?

You are wearing the finest dress you have ever owned, gifted to you by Daemon. Princess Rhaenys has forced both him and your father into complacency, and even forced King Viserys to allow your betrothal. Still, you feel adrift. Even betrayed.

What Daemon had done to you had seemed purposeful. You had not realized when he had stolen the kiss from you, giving you your first taste of fine wine, but you understood it now. Had Princess Rhaenys not been there, or had she been any less merciful, a much different fate would have awaited you.

The stink of shame that followed you around, the whispers of dishonor and the looks of distaste, would have been even more intense. You would have been ruined, known as little more than a whore. And your family no longer had the money that had shielded your mother during her pregnancies.

You had not known it. But Daemon must have. He had a reputation for taking maidenheads as he saw fit, Addam had informed you. You were a fool for not knowing, and a fool for believing he wanted something else from you.

The royal decree is read by a Maester, in front of all the Lords of near castles, the smallfolk of Driftmark and the Velaryons. Even in the first beautiful dress you own, you feel small. Out of place. The looks your half siblings are shooting you do not help you feel better.

Once the bill is read, Lord Corlys steps forward.

“Daughter.” He says, grasping your hands in his. He is cold. He is cold, and it makes your skin crawl, even when it is all you wanted as a little girl. It’s the first time he acknowledges you, and he is not at all like the man you imagined, when dreaming as a child of what it would be like for him to look at you. Because even a glance would have been enough back then. “It’s a pleasure to finally have you join the family.”

Addam and Allyn are still in the crowd, unacknowledged. They are your family, not this man who is grasping your hands with a calculating gleam in his eyes. Wondering, as all highborn do, how he might use you. How you might serve to further his own ends.

Your brothers could not be recognized as you were. You had shyly asked Princess Rhaenys, and if she thought you dimwitted before, she had probably confirmed her suspicions. They were men, she had explained, and a threat to Laenor’s rights once your father passed. You, instead, were nothing but a girl who had sullied herself, whose honor had been compromised so thoroughly you had turned even less important in the great scheme of things.

She was helping you because you had been taken advantage of by Daemon, Princess Rhaenys had said, but also to spare her daughter from your fate. Wife to a husband that would most likely betray you and sire bastards.

Lord Corlys was just happy to have another pawn to marry off and forge alliances. Freeing his daughter from a disloyal husband was an added bonus.

Every time you heard them, your hands turned into fist, and you could barely fight the rage from clouding your expression. You had not done the thing everyone was accusing you of, and yet were being judged for it all the same. Daemon, too, did nothing to correct them. Not even when the most scandalous rumors surfaced, saying you would wed him with a child already in your belly.

You had not let him touch you like that. You were not as stupid as everyone thought. As a daughter to a single mother, you knew all about scorn and loneliness. You would never doom a child to your same fate.

The day doesn’t pick up from there. The feast to follow feels just as empty, and you turn down an insincere offer from your father to be housed here. You cannot wait to run back to your brothers.

It would be impolite to leave so soon, though. Lord Corlys has thrown this feast in your honor and is making the lords and members of his household present you with gifts. You admit it is a clever strategy, to avoid having to spend money in your trousseau. Hence, you need to stay a little bit longer.

You get handed new quills and parchments, alongside a new seal for your correspondence by Laena.

“I figured you wouldn’t have one of these.” Her smile is strained as she reaches for your hands. “Since you weren’t raised the proper way.” It says a lot about the company you are in that it is the most polite greeting you receive all afternoon.

When it all begins to become a bit much, and your eyes are stinging after a lady said you had no grace and no manners, you decide you need to run. But when you are stepping a foot outside the hall, Daemon appears by your side.

“Rather improper, isn’t it?” He asks, grabbing your hand in his. You try to jerk away, but he merely interlaces your fingers together. “A lady cannot quite run around unescorted as you used to.”

“Leave me alone, Daemon.” You say, still trying to free yourself. The last thing you want today is to deal with him.

“I do not think I will.” Daemon cups your cheek in his hand, hands gentle despite the calluses on them. It was one of the things you had first liked about him. His hands were artisan’s hands, like the ones of your brothers, despite being highborn. He had seemed so different from the rest of the men you knew, back then. “Not when my betrothed is nearly weeping in her own feast.”

“You heard all those people. I do not belong here.” You look up at him, fighting your tears. You feel like such a whiny child. What happened to you is something that only happens in fairytales, it's the stuff songs are written about. No bastard girl gets acknowledged by her father and marries a Prince.

“Who cares what those cunts think?” Daemon scoffs. “You are above them. You always were.”

You bloom under his praise. There is no other word for it. It warms you, from head to toe, and your stomach fills with butterflies. A small smile forms, even through the tears that threaten to fall.

“There she is.” Daemon brushes his thumb over your cheek. “That’s my girl.”

His girl. There is nothing you would like more.

“I never wanted to be a Lady.” You lower your eyes, embarrassed at the admission. You feel ungrateful for saying it, but it’s the truth. You had never imagined a home away from your siblings. The marriage will mean you will be taken away from them, and only see them if Daemon feels like it.

You do not own a dragon, after all. And you aren’t too sure Allyn and him will be the best good brothers.

He grabs you by the waist and gives a little tug.

“Be mine instead.” Daemon whispers, and when you nod, he kisses your forehead.

MARRYING YOU HAD never been in his plans. Yet, when he saw you walk down the aisle, dressed in Velaryon blue and looking awkward, Daemon was sure you were the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

You were not a lady or a princess, yet you and him were alike. Birds of the same feather. For the first time, Daemon could say there was someone who understood him.

Daemon had never been poor, nor had he been born a bastard, but he too, had lost his parents while young. He, too, was considered too wild by his brother. And he knew all about of trying to fulfill an impossible task while honoring the legacy of his ancestors.

Laena was a mere child by your side. Her innocence and Valyrian looks had appealed to him once, but after meeting you, Daemon knew no other woman could compare. There was an edge to you, beneath all the innocence and beauty. A fire that burned bright in your belly, and could not be quenched. An anger that both amazed him and scared him, and drew him in like a moth to a flame.

You would have been great if you had been born into his house. Great but terrible.

Or perhaps you wouldn’t have. Perhaps, if you had grown acknowledged by your father, you would have not been the lost little girl who dreamed of recognition and slept lulled by the sea. You wouldn’t have grown into the woman who got the recognition and understood she did not need it at all.

A shame that recognition had come at a price so steep. Recognition in exchange for rumors of dishonor, whispers of the shame of your existence and the shame you had brought on yourself. These cunts did not see you for what you were. Not some malicious creature, some silver tongued temptress. No. You were determined and fierce, brave and true. You honored your house’s words. Your ancestors would have been proud.

Yes, Daemon decided. He would marry you and take you away from here, from this horrible little island where people behaved like they were above you. The cunts should be honored that you were even looking their way.

The distance might even help those stubborn brothers of yours to forget all about the way Daemon had become part of their family. When the grudge was forgotten, he would bring you back, less the eldest skewered him alive.

Not because Daemon feared Allyn. Of course not. But because killing him would be such a nuisance, and you would cry, and… Ugh. He couldn’t stand to see you cry.

You were about to burst into tears right now. He could tell. Daemon grabbed your hands in his, uncaring he was breaking protocol, and pressed his forehead against yours.

“We can still marry on the beach, with only Caraxes as witness.” He whispers, gently. “Hells, I would prefer it. We can run still. The Septon has not spoken.”

You laugh, a bit watery.

“Addam and Allyn would drop dead, thinking we will not be wed.”

“Allyn looks like he would attempt murder.”

“Attempt?”

“I doubt he would succeed.”

“I would protect you.” You say, and it warms something inside Daemon he wasn’t even aware that he had. “If only because killing a Prince is a crime worthy of the ax, and I wish to have nephews.”

Daemon's mouth opens and closes.

“You little..!”

You laugh, but before he can lunge and throw you over his shoulder, the Septon clears his throat.

“If the two of you are done..?”

“Just get to the part where you handfast us.” Daemon says, giving him his best lecherous expression. “I have many things I wish to show my new bride.”

And there were. He had taken many of your firsts already, he wasn’t about to stop now.

[please-help-this-little-lesbian]

I am a full fledged lesbian...but Correy Cott...my god

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

The Weekend: Deal's A Deal

Summary- 3.6k Ransom Drysdale x Kitten. Time for You to spend that weekend with Ransom. It's just a weekend, nothing can really come from spending any real amount of time together, it's all just mutual fun.

Warnings- Oral, mentions of semi-public sex, Ransom talking some filth, got some softness sprinkled in there, two idiots just not admitting anything to one another. This is an 18+ Only Blog.

A/N- well we finally got to this point. Did I ever think I would get here? Not really. Special shout out to @drabblewithfrannybarnes who specifically mentioned wanting to see a sweet bathtub scene.

Masterlist

You entered Ransom’s building with a click of your heels against the marble floor and your overnight bag wheeling behind you. This place was starting to feel familiar, the residents passing you in the lobby no longer glanced at you with suspicion, the daytime doorman gave a tilt of his head while holding the elevator door open for you, already knowing that you would be going up. 

“Morning Miss Y/L/N.” 

“Morning Dwight.” You greeted him warmly while stepping into the elevator to press a button taking you to your destination. The door slipped shut and the floor numbers lit up as the elevator creaked its way up to where Ransom lived. No Ransom didn’t live in the penthouse, but his apartment was certainly one of the nicer ones in the building near the top floor. Even though he was taking more responsibility in life didnt mean he didnt still enjoy the life of luxury. The view of Boston harbor alone was a sight you had also learned to appreciate. 

You stepped off the elevator once you reached his floor. A bit apprehensive as you made your way to his door, this wasnt a fuck and go deal, this was something edging on real that took commitment. To say it didn’t scare you a little would have been a lie and didnt’ you already do enough of those? 

Ransom and you had a history, a long history. Would this weekend remind you both of that and why it just didn’t work for you before. The last time, before you moved to Conneticut and ended up with Neil, it had cost you a career. But now you were wiser, you were prepared for Ransom Drysdale and his chaos. 

You think. 

The door is already open when you reach it, giving a knock, you step inside and close it behind you. “Ransom?” 

“In here Kitten.” You heard him from somewhere in the apartment. Shrugging off your jacket and hanging it up, you slip off your heels till your wandering barefoot through the beautiful space. That skyline window view, never failed to make you pause a moment, watching the boats creeping through the harbour before going out to sea for a day of tourist attractions and fishing. 

You feel a pair of hands slide around you, a broad back press against your chest as Ransom joins you, overlooking your shoulder as he too watched the scene before you. “This is why I chose this one. More money for this view, but as soon as I saw it, I knew. I always hoped you would get to see it too.” 

You leaned into him, his warmth enveloped you in a very calming manner, he was familiar, he felt familiar at your back, hands resting around you like they are always there. There was an unspoken intimacy in the way you two were able to hold each other so casually that you opted not to inspect further. “Now I have seen it several times, but never fails to make me pause. This place is amazing.” 

“It is, I wouldn’t have found it without Harlan’s help.” Ransom admitted while brushing the soft shorter hairs from the back of your neck and brushed his lips against the supple column of your neck. You let your eyes slide closed to enjoy the sensation. Ransom was good at so many things, and making you feel special was one of them, one you craved because with Neil, he always just fell short of making you feel like you mattered more then his always demanding career. It shouldnt be this easy to get lost in Ransom, but it was. It always was. “How about a glass of wine and you can tell me about your week, Kitten?” He offered, snapping you back to the present. 

“And here I thought I was just gonna be your sex toy all weekend.” You teased while stepping away from him and heading to the kitchen. Ransom tugged you back to him, landing you chest to chest in his arms, looking up at him. 

“Who says that isnt what I got planned Kitten? Get you liquored up and loose before I ruin you in my bed, the tub, the kitchen counter. I think you be real pretty bent over that granite counter with your ass up in the air all for me, begging? Hmm?” 

How could he do that, be nice and gentleman then go to making you filthy promises that made you ache for just that. You worked on simmering that desire for now, it was a weekend, a whole two days and if you broke so soon, you were never gonna last till the end. “You already promised me wine Ransom.” 

“So I did.” A perfect smirk graced his hungry features, dropping a dominating kiss before twisting you back to head to the kitchen. In the past year you have been over to Ransom’s apartment, you hadn’t had a chance to see much outside of the bedroom, so you admired the open space. Although not huge, it was big enough for you to tuck onto a barstool out of the way while he grabbed wine glasses and pulled out your favorite bottle from the mini wine fridge. “So Ellie’s, how was it?” 

“Good.” You took the offered glass to sip from. “It has been so long since we have gotten to just be together, you know? I’m always working or she is flying out somewhere herself for work. Plus its not like I’m just on the other side of town. She ended up getting Johnny’s phone number that night.” You smirked while Ransom leaned on the opposite side of the counter. He gave a chuckle. 

“I’m not surprised, Ellie had her hooks in him well before I even got there.” 

“You jealous she didn’t take you up on that offer for a three way?” 

Ransom shrugged, grinning as he enjoyed more of the wine. “Her loss, I offered.” You thought he was joking, but of course this is Ransom Drysdale and he has managed to surprise you before. “She is going to eat him alive.” 

You snorted, hopping off the bar stool while swirling your glass. “Boy wont even know what hit him.” You wandered from the kitchen, looking around at the rest of the apartment in the light of day. Ransom, kept it modern and classy looking. This clean, you assumed he must have a maid coming in. But it was also set up for comfort as well. “You entertain here often Ransom?” A loaded question, you saw him hesitate a moment, trying to figure out what you were looking for with that question. 

“Have I brought anyone here since we have been fucking? No, I havent. Blood Like Wine and fucking Walt keep me busy as it is. Have I hosted some-” He gave a wave of his hand dismisvely. “Parties? Yes I have. But not like I used to.” Ransom set his glass down, now emptied. “I found I prefer not to have a bunch of shitty fucking people in my home.” 

He had changed, it kind of unsettled you to hear him talking so responsibility. Not like the Ransom from before who was knowin to have a slew of fuck boys following him around and girls doing there best to get him to notice. He noticed them enough to keep them hanging on but never gave enough to let them know him. Not like you. 

“Smart move, those people will suck you dry given the chance.” You downed your wine and set it next to his. “So… You have me for the weekend Drysdale to do as you please as long as you have the manuscript for me?” 

“I do.” He stepped in closer, into your space and a large hand cupped your cheek, seeming to soak in what intimate contact he could have with you. You once more sunk into it, letting it make your heart clench with a need unfiulfilled before. Almost like your body was starved for this intimacy. “You are so eager Kitten, so willing to be mine this weekend.” 

“That was the deal.” 

“Mmhh.” He hummed while his hand found the zip in the dress you were wearing, dragging it down. “It was the deal, I think that the rules are no more of these dresses. Hides to much.” 

You wriggled in his hold, letting the now loose dress slip to the floor, pooling at your feet into discarded fabric for you to step out of. Lace panties and bra now the only thing covering you and you could see the black set was a wise choice as his pupils flared with desire once more while looking you up and down. “This better?” 

“Cute Kitten, but still far to much.” He towered in closer, making you step back till your back hit cool glass from tall windows. You arched to your toes to nip at his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your fingers in the strands of his hair at the back of his head. 

“Don’t rip them, I like this set.” 

“I will fucking buy you a new set. One in each color.” He reached behind and although easily could have twisted the clasp to open, he was efficient but he bent the hooks with a yank and the thin lace tore from the exertion. You gasped at the action, what remained of your bra falling away and he started kissing you, working his mouth against yours to claim your mouth for himself, your kisses belonging to him for now and he feasted. A man who had been deprived for long enough. You grasped his shirt to hold on, the cold pinky ring pressing against your left breast while he grasped you, circling the nipple precisely how you liked before giving a stinging pull, knowing that you craved that bit of pain. 

“I will be sure to send you the site I got it from.” You arched into his mouth, tugging at his hair for more, more, more. His teeth were sharp nips to be soothed with the broad stroke of his tongue. Ransom didnt stop there, he swept his hands along your ribs and kissed down the curve of your belly till the man was on your knees before you.  

“Or just take the card from my waller. Order yourself whatever you want, fuck if I care, as long as I get to see you in it.” He dragged his nose against the panty clothed center of you. ”Kitten, your pussy already wet?” Inhaling you deeply, his hands grasping at the back of your thighs to spread them wider. “You know anyone was to be peeping from one of these other buildings they are gonna see you getting fucked on my face.” 

That sent a shiver of humiliation and desire through you, excitement at the prospect of getting caught. Ransom smirked up at you, biting at the band of your panties and tugging them down till your pussy came into view and he could nudge his nose through your curls, tongue tracing the seam before spreading you open. 

Watching this man put his mouth on you, you excitedly finished stepping from the last remaining clothing on you to be bare naked in his livingroom, in the middle of the day, your backside pressed firmly against the glass as he spread your thighs wider with demanding kisses to the inside of your thighs that left slight teeth imprints in the softest parts of you. 

“Been wet for you, wanting you this whole week, ready for this.” Your hands brushed through his dark hair, messing the typically styled waves till they were as wild as is expression looked, inhaling deeply against you once more before his tongue stroked through your folds, finding that nerve that made your legs shake and you gripped his head to hold yourself up. The way he worked your clit, hard sucks and tender strokes of his tongue made you arch for him, offering yourself to Ransom to take as much as he wanted. 

He wanted it all. Harsh hands dug into the back of your thighs, lifting one to drape over his shoulder and hold you poised for him, his tongue relentless as his fingers fucked into your aching center, curling to stroke clenching walls in a come hiter motion. “More Ransom.” 

His voice was muffled, more occupied at savoring you instead of answering. 

“You turning into a absolute slut for me. Out in the open like this…” Another swipe of his tongue through your squelching pussy, your hand slapped back into the glass window in a desperate move as your belly clenched and heat raced in a sharp tingle through your nerves. 

“Ran I gotta-” 

“Let everyone see you cum. Come on Kitten.” He fingerd you harder, demanding you to break. You didn’t want to crash, it was a ominous promise that it was gonna feel so good and that he wasn’t close to finishing with you. You already knew his cock had to be straining in those expensive slacks how was still wearing, of course he had you completely naked while he still wore all his clothes, having you on display in his glass wall of windows overlooking the city. A glance down showed your slick shiny on his chin and mouth, his lips turned into a knowing smirk. He had you, fuck he had you right where he wanted you. “Anything I want, thats the deal this weekend. Right now I want you to cum for me.” 

You gave in, there was no use fighting it and you pressed and slid against the glass till his hands caught your hips to keep you upright. This time his mouth was driving you crazy, too much and you pushed at his forehead with a gasp. “No more Ransom.” 

“Aww Kitten, we are just getting started.” He worked his way up, hands holding you still while his mouth filthy from you streaked up your body and to your mouth, filling you with the taste of you. 

Tongue filling and stalling your moans from escaping, you felt ripped from him, twisted to the bright light of the Boston Harbor and your breasts pressed against the cool glass. You could see the flutter of his shirt out of your peripheral vision when you tilted your head to press your heated cheek against the window. 

Anyone can see you be an absolute slut for this man and that just made you press your ass out, giving him all the room he needed to palm your ass and hiss in your ear while your palms streaked at the pristine glass. 

No longer pristine, you had made a mess and it was streaked in a tell tale story in smudges. “I want the world to see how my Kitten is a cock drunk whore just asking to be filled.” His hand circled the back of your neck while he worked his pants open. 

Yes, yes you wanted to be fucked and full of Ransom. How was this all you ever wanted? Your felt your eyes glaze as you submitted to the sensation of going stupid while his cock stretched you. It felt so good, so right like this. You moaned, freely without restraint. “Yes Ransom.” 

“Whats that Kitten?” His tone was taunting, urging you to beg while you pushed your ass out further, curving your back. 

“Fuck me, fuck me please!”  

It was all like some fantasy you used to imagine, Ransom caging you in, his hands laying claim to your body, his mouth hissing against your ear with filth all in front of the beautiful boston skyline. It wasn't till you came several times did you feel him snap his hips into you and fill you with his spend, calling you his good Kitten. Thats when you faded into his hold, letting yourself black out satisfied. 

“Kitten? Fuck, come on Baby, I know it was good but pass out good?” You felt hands cupping your face and you stirred with a whine, your body burning from being pressed and rubbed against the glass, between your thighs was a warm ache that left traces of him smeared into your skin and a worried set of blue eyes peering into yours. 

“I’m fine.” You run your hand against his smooth bare chest, feeling him sigh in aggravation and relief while glaring at you. “Just needed a breather.” 

“Fuck woman, why didnt you tell me to stop instead of begging for more. Thought I might have knocked you hard against the window or something.” He scolded while he let his hands fall from your face, tracing your sides soothingly as you laid up on the couch. You hid a smile in the couch cushion, knowing that pointing out how worried he seemed to be would just agitate him. You shifted to sit up and hissed as you were pretty tender all over. “Come on Kitten, lets go get you taken cared of.” He raised to a stand, naked as could be so you must not have been out for to long if he didnt even bother getting at least pants back on. 

“You do know I’m fine Ransom?” You said as he scooped you up, making you sling an arm around his neck as he carried you from his livingroom and towards the bedrooms and bathroom. Your feet danglad over his arm, and it all felt very tender, this bridal style way of hauling you around. 

“Part of my demands then, okay Kitten? Let me do this.” He turned into his bathroom. Now Ransom had a luxury bathroom. Another thing he refused to skimp on, which you weren't surptised. This man liked to come off as in the ‘He didnt fucking care” about anything, but he spent a considerable amount of time taking care of himself. And it showed. “You can stand?” 

“Yes Ransom, you didn’t exactly break my legs.” You rolled your eyes at his worrying, wiggling your feet in an urgency for him to ease you to a stand. Once he was positive you were steady and gave you a pinch on your ass for being sassy, he set about filling a tub with hot steamy water, sure to go into his closet for what looked like epsom salt to dump in and swirl around till it melted in the water. He disappeared again and you followed him into the large closet, browsing through all his supplies while he tucked the jar of epsom away. “Are these… flower petals?” You opened another jar and reached your hand in to pull out a handful and sure enough a nice flowery aroma filled the space as you brought them to your nose. “Oh these are so going in.” 

“Whatever you want Kitten.” He grabbed fluffy towel and clothes to bring out. You grasped at the jar and carried it out with you. Scattering a handful of petals in the water, you tested it before easing your feet into it. 

“Ooh, this is nice.” You waited at the edge for Ransom to climb into the oversized tub and then followed in once he settled back, his legs spread to provide you a seat. “That salt feels really good.” You sank down a bit more, your head cushioned on Ransoms shoulder and your arms lifted on the edge of the tub. You felt him shift behind you, his arms circling you loosely so his hands could rub lightly at your hip. 

“Were the rose petals worth it?” 

You lifted your toes from the water, the petals clinging to your foot before lowering it back down so they floated along the surface once more. “Hell yes, I will require the rest of my baths this weekend to be like this.” 

“Well you can go through that closet, there is more shit in there.” He muttered as he kissed at the hinge of your jawline. 

You wriggled back into him, making him grunt as the way your ass pressed into his cock. “Are they the bath bombs with goodies in them?” You looked over your shoulder at him. Ransom shrugged, unsure of if they were. 

“There are those bath bombs, I don’t have any idea if anything is in them, I haven’t used them. They are in the closet, do you want one now?” 

“Yes! Lets test one out.” You made to get up but large hands pressed you back to sit while he pushed himself up instead, sputtering about getting water all over his floor. He came back seconds later with a basket and while getting back in behind you, you were sorting through them till you found a soft fresh scented one to dunk in. 

You leaned back into him while letting the ball drop into the hot water to let it fizz up, Ransom hugging around you while watching over your shoulder if you were indeed gonna get something from the good smelling bath bomb. It wasnt long till indeed a little ball bobbled up and Ransom was quick to grab it before you could. “Well I will be damned, didn’t know these were like the most expensive gum ball machines to exist.” He popped open the top and pulled out a stunning looking emerald cut in a heart shape with small studs circling around it. “Hold your hand out so I can put it on.” 

You did just as he asked and when he slipped it on your middle finger, you held your hand up to the dimming ray of sunshine streaming in, making it sparkle. “I love it.” 

“It suits you Kitten.”

[s0lar-ch3ri]

HI I HAVE MORE TO BE LESS NORMAL ON FOR THEM NOW!!!!!

okay so obviously gill has a lot of titles right? i mean we joke about how his titles never fit on anything all the time! but the thing about titles is that in the navy, titles show a status and power (from what i know, im not into politics srry), especially titles like "slayer of grimm" and "dismantler of evil" create an intimidation, and jay knows that. and gill is meant to be intimidating, hes built to be the scary stone-faced hero that you shouldnt mess with. yet hes terrifying because he isnt like that, even in battle. its scary how unserious he could be in a situation yet he'll find a way to be the "beater of ass, eater of grass" (had to not sorry). like gills a chill guy. sure, hes a bit energetic at times, but hes a chill dude, like jay tries to be, even though theres a lot of times shes freaked out too.

another parallel is how they handle those who've shadowed their lives. gill doesnt have to deal with them in person, but he seems so ready to. in my eyes, he stares at them all in the eyes that whole speech, because the fear that they gave before is gone. its replaced by rage, disappointment, and maybe even slight pity that theyd stoop so low like this (probably how the elders felt when hed fail but thats just me hahahhaha), and where im at (ep 87 still), he only deals with them once, all at the same time. but jay? she confronts different members of her family several times (all in person besides that one phone call with her grandma), and each time she freezes up, helpless to do anything but obey. and both times they were brave, okay? both of them must have been fucking terrified, reliving something in their heads. the fact that jay could even have ran after her dad was gone is so girlboss of her! it feels like i make jay sound weak for being unable to stand up to family, but she cant deny her morals so heavily just yet (gill has done it slightly by "disrespecting" the elders who deserved it but anyways) and i have so much respect for her for not letting them control her as much!

small parallels that dont really need much addition to i feel like: gillion is so energetic, jay is fucking tired | gillion works in close combat ranges, jay uses long range weapons | when gill had all his hair down before, jay had some of her hair tied up | now gill has his hair half up, jay has all of it down | gill has none of the special items they got from the chest i think (the compass, spyglass, and bandana), jay has 2 of them | jay in the navy has higher status, gill as the chosen one has higher status in the undersea | gill is more traditional looking, jay feels more modern with her style | opposite of orange on the color wheel is azure or blue-green/cyan blue | gillion is physically strong yet "dumb" (quotes because hes dumb when it comes to oversea customs), jay is magically strong yet "smart" (smart in oversea customs) (not to imply either are weak physically or magically, theyre both strong in both aspects, its just which is "stronger" there so to speak) | gill (from what i can guess) was told to figure out how to do magic with little to no help from the elders, jay was slightly self-taught with a lot of help from her mother (ik this about gill and jay but chip was taught by no one (besides gill trying to teach him lay on hands that one time) and had to figure it out after a while) | jays family is heavily seen by us, all of gills fam we see is finn and edyn (and not much of edyn from what i know)

no cause like gillion is the model child that jay never was, and jay is the free spirit that gillion always longed to be. do you understand??? do you get me???? they are reflections of what their lives could have been if they had gone down a different a road. did you notice how jay has come to shun her jacket and show more of herself, but how gillion has acquired armour to hide himself away. do you!! see!! them!!!!! how are we all not less normal about these two.