#rogue fic

[chromaherder]

Been thinking about them lately.

[batsandbirdbrains]

One of the first lessons Bruce taught Dick when he was training to become Robin was to make use of every weapon in his arsenal. He of course meant his utility belt. But Dick just nodded his head so seriously and said, “Got it.”

And that’s how Robin became the menace kid that bites people. His arms are held back by a goon? Chomp! He can’t reach his birdarangs in time? Chomp! He’s just mad at someone and needs a quick and easy attack? Chomp!

Bruce can’t even get mad, because Dick always looks so proud of himself, and it does work rather efficiently. So he’ll just sigh and pinch the bridge of his nose (even if he’s wearing the cowl) and tell Robin he did a good job.

Bruce is just thankful he doesn’t bite other kids at school when he’s being Dick Grayson. He’s called into the principal’s office at Gotham Academy for enough other reasons, he doesn’t need to add biting to the list.

[ghostbsuter]

"This is... good. It would always end like this, i think."

Phantom spoke, yet the words that left him did not help the agonising wreath his feelings became the longer he looked at the scene.

Both Dr. Fentons were in cuffs, transported through the city previously before stopping at the gate of Arkham Asylum. In a way, it was bittersweet to watch his parents be taken away. In a way, he was getting his justice, yet the child inside him cried and yearned for the comfort of his parents.

In a way, the picture of his careful crafted childhood was shattering piece by piece with every minute hr watched.

The raindrops did not stop splashing around him, but a dark curtain, a cape really, stopped it from hitting him more than it already had.

"Phantom." Batman uses his name carefully, slow. "You're crying."

Oh, was he?

"Sorry- I—" he tried, he tried so hard to stop but the sobs kept coming and the tears did not dry, his shoulders shook and breathing became a herculean task.

Grabbing onto the man's leg with a hand to steady himself, Batman lowered himself down, enough to wrap the boy in a hug.

Since the start of his life in Gotham, since the moment he entered the city as a new rogue, it was Batmans hug that made him feel the safest he's ever gotten to be.

[stars-obsession-pit]

Following an accident, Danny wakes up in Gotham City in a DC universe. Lacking any forms of ID or possessions beyond the clothes on his back, he’s forced to commit some crimes to survive. Minor crimes, but still.

And then he gets caught.

During the court proceedings, they come to the mistaken conclusion that he’s a Meta suffering from some psychiatric issues such as Cotard’s Syndrome (a real rare condition where a person holds the delusional belief that they’re dead/don’t exist/etc).

Thus, between his “need for mental treatment” and the concerns about housing someone with his unique physical traits, he is sentenced to spend time in Arkham Asylum. He’s under pretty low security aside from the anti-Meta stuff and has more freedoms than some other inmates, but it’s still not a great experience. Even at the best of times, Arkham is hardly a nice place.

Some of his fellow residents are decently chill all things considered, but lots very much aren’t.

[brushstrokesapocalyptic]

after all of murderbot's unreliable narration as relates to personal relationships, plus its off-handed mention of three's "possibly apocryphal friends", i can't help but suspect that this: (ASR)

might be narratively equivalent to this:

[britishsquidward]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, RIDDLER!!!

RiddlerWeek Day Four - Pranks (moreso included in the fic below)

Associated Fanfic: ao3 / Fanficnet

[happilyhertale]

My dragoness – Daemon Targaryen x fem!niece!reader

Summary: Weeks have passed since the announcement of your betrothal to your Uncle Daemon. Since then, hardly a night has gone by without Daemon visiting you - without disregarding your wish not to take the final step yet. But tonight, on your wedding night, you will finally be fully his.

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!niece!reader

Warnings: Smut; 18+; NSFW; Fingering, sex (p in v), breeding kink, size kink, loss of virginity

Author’s note: English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

This is another part of my Shared Future series.

x3 When @targaryen-dynasty asked me if I would like to participate in celebrating her 3K follower milestone, of course I agreed x3

Some have asked for another part for the Shared Future series, which is why I'm celebrating Laura's milestone with this story.

I hope you enjoy it!

Word count: 2.5 k

Other stories of mine

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Your eyes are closed and your shaky breath echoes in the chambers. The rooms that you will share with your husband from now on.

The ceremony seems only distant in your memory and now so surreal as you lie here on this bed. How all eyes were on you when your eyes only looked into your uncle's. How you couldn't suppress a grin when you recognised the slightest smile around his lips. How he gently cupped your cheek with his rough hand before enveloping your lips with his…

"Hey... open your eyes," you hear Daemon say - almost softly.

You obey him and your eyes slowly open. The scenery shoots in on you as you lie on the bed in just your nightgown, your husband standing in front of the bed, looking at you, slowly opening his shirt.

"That's better," he says gently and smiles at you.

You don't know why you're so nervous. He's seen you naked countless times, driven you to ecstasy with his touch. But this time it's different, it's your wedding night.

He slowly approaches you as he slowly opens his trousers. Your fingers fiddle with the hem of your nightgown as you try to breathe more calmly. Without looking at him, you hear his trousers slide down.

Daemon's eyes linger on you. He takes in every nervous twitch and quickened breath and he moves closer.

"There's no need to be nervous. I've seen every inch of you, explored every curve, and tasted your sweet surrender. Tonight, we seal our union, and I will show you just how much you belong to me," he purrs, his voice low and seductive, "It will be special," his soft voice sounds and you hear the words you whispered to him countless nights ago.

His words send a shiver down your spine, and you feel a mix of anticipation and excitement bubbling within you. You know that Daemon is a man of passion and intensity, and tonight, he intends to leave his mark on you in more ways than one.

Daemon's eyes flicker with a mixture of amusement and possessiveness as he watches you fidget and nervously avoid his gaze.

He reaches out, his hand gently caressing your cheek before trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. His touch is both tender and possessive, a contrast that only adds to the intensity of the moment. His fingers curl around the hem of your nightgown, slowly lifting it up, revealing your body to him in all its vulnerability.

You feel the mattress give way as Daemon kneels on the bed. You look up and your purple Targaryen eyes meet. A gasp leaves your lips as his hand brushes across your thigh, gently grasping the underside of it and spreading your thighs slightly - his rough hand, a stark contrast to your soft skin. His other hand slides to your face, his index finger and thumb cupping your chin, lifting your head slightly.

"Look at me... focus on me..." he whispers and you nod slightly as you look into his eyes. Carefully, he pushes your legs apart as he kneels between them. His lips glide over your cheek, over your neck, while his hand slides further up your thigh.

Your eyes flutter shut as you concentrate fully on his touch. His warm breath glides over your skin as his lips caress you. The sweetest moan escapes your lips as his fingers grip your inner thigh.

"That's my girl... concentrate on my touch..." he whispers against your skin. You nod slightly again and gasp as his fingers cup your folds - you'll never get tired of this feeling. Slowly, his fingers move, smearing the wetness along your folds. His fingers find your sensitive bud, light circular movements follow and as if of their own accord your hips move to follow their movement.

Daemon follows your movements, sliding his fingers to your soaked opening, applying light pressure. His fingertips are literally sucked in and a mewling sound comes from your lips. You exhale heavily, his fingers thrust deeper, your eyes still closed.

Daemon's lips curl into a smug smile as he watches your reactions, relishing in the way you respond to his touch. He takes pleasure in knowing that he can easily bring you to the edge with just his fingers alone.

His fingers continue their exploration, sliding in and out of your wetness, gradually increasing the depth and pace of his thrusts. He watches as your hips buck against his hand, seeking more of the pleasure he's giving you.

"You're so wet... I don't even really need to work to get inside you," Daemon murmurs and you blush slightly, but your moans don't let up.

"Open your eyes" he whispers, "I want you to watch as I prepare you for me. See how wet and ready you are for my cock."

As you obey again, your eyes meeting his, Daemon's fingers quicken their pace, delving deeper into your core. He revels in the way your breath hitches, your body trembling with anticipation.

"Such a good girl," he murmurs, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "You're ready for me, aren't you? You want my cock inside you, filling you completely."

You blush even more - you know that Daemon loves to fill your mind with filthy words. Even if they have the desired effect on you, you can't help but blush.

But suddenly you feel him pull his fingers out of you and a soft whimper leaves you. You feel your nerves again as you look down and see him pulling down his undergarments. You've seen his manhood many times before, on the nights he's visited you - but this is different.

His length is released and you gasp slightly - it's never seemed so big to you, so thick. His hand slides along his throbbing length and you hear him grunt slightly.

"Daemon... this... this won't fit..." you suddenly whisper nervously and your hand slides to his arm.

Daemon smiles, still pumping his hardness.

"Hey... look at me," he whispers again and you look up. But then he kisses you, wrapping his lips around yours, swallowing your doubts.

The kiss is filled with a hunger that ignites a fire deep within you. His hand roams your body, claiming every inch, as if marking you as his territory. The intensity of his touch, the way he dominates your senses, leaves you breathless and wanting more.

"It will fit... we will make it fit... It will hurt at first, but the reward will be all the better," he whispers against your lips. You can't help but nod as he slides the tip of his hardness through your folds.

Your eyes flutter shut and you inhale sharply. Your fingers dig into his skin as his length presses against your pearl. Again your hips move towards him, seeking more of that touch.

Daemon looks down, between your bodies, watching closely as your wetness and his precum mingle. His growl echoes through the chambers. You concentrate fully on the sensation as he guides its length to your entrance.

Slowly he pushes forward and you feel the pressure as his manhood tries to penetrate you. A slight whimper leaves you as your heat envelops his tip. He growls slightly, senses your tightness and starts to move slowly.

"You're doing great..." he whispers in your ear, gently kissing your cheek as he pushes further. You feel the pressure, biting your lip as he impales you on his hot length. The feeling of him stretching you, filling you, is overwhelming. Your walls clench around him, trying to accommodate to his size. Daemon's pace is slow and deliberate, relishing in the tightness and warmth of your core.

But Daemon still feels a lot of resistance, he's nowhere near all the way in yet.

"Love... it's going to hurt for a moment now... but it has to be," he whispers and your eyes open again, looking at him. You whimper, but you nod slightly. He leans his forehead against yours, lets his nose slide gently along yours before kissing you softly again. His rhythmic movements don't let up as his tongue searches for yours and you moan slightly.

When suddenly he thrusts and you cry out as the sharp pain runs through your abdomen. He swallows your cry, his hand on your hip as his thick length works you open. "Uncle Daemon..." you whimper into his mouth as he slides in and out.

"I know..." he whispers, but he keeps moving. The pain slowly subsides. Your cunt, clenching around his cock in protest, slowly gives way. He feels the fluttering of your walls and closes his eyes briefly.

"Gods you feel so good," he growls. Slight mewling sounds leave your lips as your hips begin to move with him. He smiles at you, "That's my girl," he whispers a little breathlessly as his hips move faster. He can feel you soaking his cock, your pleasure increasing, and it spurs him on.

His thrusts get harder as he tries to bury himself completely inside you. He revels in the feeling of your tightness around him, the way you yield to his every thrust. Moans escape you now as your hands grip his upper arms. His hand still on your hip, holding you in place.

He watches your face, observing every flicker of pleasure that crosses your features. His grip tightens on your hips, his fingers digging into your skin, marking you as his.

"You're so tight, so wet," his voice filled with a mix of satisfaction and hunger. "You were made for me... Made to be filled by me," he grunts as he feels the tight grip of your cunt.

You are completely overwhelmed by the sensation as your cunt is fully stretched. You feel his balls slapping against you with every thrust and you whimper. His grunts echo through your chambers as he feels the continuous spasming of your wet walls. His eyes drift down again, seeing his glistening length disappear into your perfect womanhood again and again - the moment he's been waiting for so long, finally fulfilled.

He looks at your face again, sensing your impending climax - your eyes closed, your lips slightly parted as you try to follow his movements. Your noises a mixture of moans and whimpers. His hand slides to your abdomen, pressing lightly against it. He wants to feel his hot length sliding into you, bringing you to climax.

His thumb begins to tease your bud as he thrusts harder and faster into you. You cry out slightly, but you can feel the pressure in your abdomen. Your fingernails dig deeper into his skin as he pumps in and out, his thumb rubbing faster.

"Come for me... Soak my cock, suck up my seed..." he growls in your ear and you moan again. You open your eyes and look into his - blown wide with lust.

As your climax approaches, Daemon's pace quickens, his thrusts growing more powerful. He can feel the walls of your core tightening around him, signaling your imminent release.

With one final powerful thrust, he plunges deep within you, his cock pulsating as he finds his own release. The sensation of him emptying himself inside you pushes you over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave.

You moan out, your walls milk his cock and he grunts loudly. He watches your face contort with pleasure as moan after moan leaves your lips while your warm walls spasm around him. He's never seen anything so perfect - you're finally his.

He leans down, kisses you, swallows your moans of pleasure.  His hips move more slowly as you come sliding back to reality from the veil of lust.

When his movements slow down completely, he releases the kiss. You can still feel him inside you, his nose slides gently along yours, you see him smile slightly.

"Are you all right?" he whispers a little breathlessly. You just nod and a breathless "Okay," leaves his lips. You whimper slightly in protest as he slowly pulls out of you. His length glistening with a mixture of your fluids. He watches you, his eyes filled with a mix of desire and satisfaction, before leaning down to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

In this moment, there is no one else but the two of you, lost in the aftermath of your shared passion. Your bodies are entwined, your souls connected in a way that words cannot describe.

Your heavy breathing echoes in your chambers as he slowly releases the kiss, his gaze travelling down your body as he leans back.

His gaze is fixed on your womanhood and you feel something unfamiliar dripping out of you. Your hand instinctively wants to slide between your legs, but you only notice a slight shake of his head before he stops your hand. His other hand slides to your folds and slowly he pushes his fingers inside you, but you are overstimulated, your hips jerk back slightly.

"Don't," he whispers, "My seed must stay inside you.... I want a perfect heir to grow inside you"

You blush slightly, but his fingers slowly slide inside you, pushing the seed deeper inside you. Your eyes flutter shut slightly as you surrender to this feeling.

Daemon's eyes darken with possessiveness as he watches your reactions, his fingers still buried deep inside you. He can feel the wetness and warmth around his digits, evidence of the pleasure he has brought you. The thought of his seed filling you, the possibility of creating an heir, sends a surge of pride through him.

His thumb brushes against your sensitive pearl, eliciting a shudder from your body. He can sense your sensitivity, the overstimulation that threatens to overwhelm you. But he doesn't stop, his fingers continuing their relentless assault on your pleasure.

"You're mine… My dragoness" he murmurs, his voice low and almost commanding. "And I will fill you with my seed until you bear me a child. You will be the mother of my heir“

Daemon watches you, his fingers still buried deep inside you. His fingers move faster, his thumb pressing harder against your clit. He can feel the tension building within you, your body on the precipice of another climax. He wants to take you there, to see you come undone in his arms once more.

As the waves of pleasure begin to build once again, you can feel his fingers curling inside you, hitting that sweet spot that sends sparks of ecstasy coursing through your body. It's almost too much to bear, the pleasure threatening to consume you.

And as your moans fill the air, your body convulsing around his fingers, he knows he has succeeded. He watches with satisfaction as your pleasure washes over you, your walls clenching around his fingers. In his mind, your precious womb sucks up his seed with every contraction.

Finally he slowly pulls his fingers out of you – a mixture of his seed and your arousal covers his fingers. He smiles and collapses next to you on the bed, his breathing still heavy and laboured.

He looks at you, his eyes glowing with satisfaction. You smile almost shyly before his arm wraps around your middle and pulls you closer. He buries his face in your hair, inhaling your scent. His fingers glide gently over your abdomen as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear - your heavy breathing and light giggles fill the air.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

[actress4him]

OC List

Rogue

Main Whumpee -

Nyx

(I can't remember the picrew I used, if someone knows it please share)

She was a youngling when the Nashann's world changed forever. Since then, she's been trained as her mother's weapon, waiting for the day that she can enact their revenge against the royal family.

______________________

Caretaker/Whumpee -

Kallias

(picrew unknown)

Raised in the shadows of so many great leaders before him, Kallias only wants to make his parents and people proud and be the best king that he can be when his time comes. But the Aelinai's dark past with the Nashann haunts them all, and he can't help but wonder if there's more to the story than what he's been told.

______________________

Caretakers? -

King Baelor

(picrew unknown)

As the ruler of the Aelinai, Baelor does his best to be a fair and generous leader, taking lessons from both the good and bad deeds of his ancestors.

__

Queen Evren

(picrew unknown)

A devoted wife and mother, Evren enjoys doting on her only son while standing firm by her husband's side, helping him make the tough decisions required of royalty.

_______________________

Whumpers -

Lady Inaksha

(picrew unknown)

The Aelinai took her husband and son from her. They need to pay, and she has the vision and the determination to make it happen, no matter what it takes.

__

Nanki

(picrew unknown)

As Nyx's older sister, Nanki doesn't understand why she wasn't chosen to carry out their mother's plan of revenge. She was already a soldier in the war, she could have done a much better job. She's always seen her little sister as just a pest, and that will never change.

_______________________

Neutral -

Lord Nyrik

Nyx's father, who was killed after taking out the Aelinai king.

__

Ekan

(picrew unknown)

Nyx's oldest brother, who died in battle.

__

Kiaan

(picrew unknown)

Nyx's older brother

[a2remedy]

Rogue Rater AU

He's sick of this shit. Might as well put the experience to use.

When the videos first come out, they're more rage rants cause this is happening so often and he's only been there for like 2-3 days. The only thing is part of his first video that Cass ans Steph put on the screen for the others to see. I have written out is that he got nabbed 6 times within the weekend he got here and if he got nabbed a 7th time then this would be his project.

Danny is in Gotham for 3 days and is already sick of the rogues and criminals. He's kidnapped, drugged, and mugged, you name it! So he takes the time to rate his experiences. To make up his semester grades, Mr. Lancer gave him a summer assignment to do while he’s at the Wayne Summer Scholar program to record his experiences. So he goes a little above and makes it a YouTube channel after the third incident on his first day here. Speaking about the rogues from an outsider's perspective behind a ghost image. After the SEVENTH TIME on his THIRD. DAY. HERE. He finally uses a camera, full-on (Silly-ass) rage ranting in a full black motorcyclist gear with a black tint visor that barely shows the green light coming from his eyes if you look super closely. Straight from the riddler's kidnapping today! If it's a more serious video, he'll be in a full gas mask, single colored shirt, a black hoodie over top, and white gloves. Either way, he never shows an inch of skin. Yet, no rogue has made it past 4.5/5 stars cause this kid has ALWAYS somehow experienced worse. A Gothamite calls him on it, so he shares a droplet of his experiences with his rogues, and everyone is getting increasingly concerned for RR. No one has any idea what they look like (aside from Sam and Tucker, who joined the program with him). So everyone is looking out for their midwestern accent. Tim is delighted and confused when #RRSolidarity goes viral. 

[momo-yandere-writings]

Happy birthday @yandere-wishes 🖤

Yandere DC Special Short: His Inamorata

Yandere Harvey “Two Face” Dent x Secretary Reader

TW:Unhealthy relationship dynamic, yandere behavior, CANNIBALISM AS A METAPHOR FOR LOVE AND OBSESSION, Harvey Dent being extremely delusional, terrifying behavior, horror, playing into the delusions of a mentally ill man, and a relationship that should not be romanticized

Tap. Tap. Clink. Harvey flipped his coin in his right hand while he tapped his left fingers on his mahogany desk. His pointer fingernail just slightly jagged from when he chewed it off from how nervous he felt from the proximity of the apple of his eye, (your name).

She had only been on his payroll for a few months, yet she had somehow warmed her way into his cold heart. Harvey was still unsure on how this progression had even began…

Perhaps it was how her smile melted the walls he had so carefully placed around himself? Or the way her (eye color) eyes never looked away from his midwinter gaze.

The pretty secretary diligently typed away on her keyboard at her desk. Unaware of her boss’s intense interest in her.

(Your name) always knew her boss was rather… eccentric ever since the accident. She had been his secretary back when he was district attorney and since he had became a crime boss, he asked for her to return to her secretarial duties.

(Your name) obeyed since she knew he was completely unstable yet she saw so many glimpses of the man he used to be as she sat in his new office with him. At times, it felt like she was with good ol’ Harvey… other times, she dealt with the beast.

Two Face was flirtatious with her when he was the personality that was forefront. And he was a bit aggressive with his advances at times… but she couldn’t find it in herself to leave. Not when Harvey desperately clung to the past.

The slimmer of dusk streamed over his mangled face from the slightly opened curtains on the window window. Moments like this always made him seem almost like another man. Someone with an aetherium glow under the slivers of sunlight, his eyes half-lidded as the sun brought out the beauty of the right side of his face. The pink and orange hues reminded her of the Greek god Apollo, the nickname he once had when he was still District Attorney. The days he walked in the sun either his head held high…

But as the shadows dance over his brow when the sun sank itself further down in the distance, the scarred half of his face is transformed into something monstrous and twisted like the gnarled branches of an old tree. No longer the dashing Apollo, but rather a form of the intimidating Hades.

A small part of (Your name) found his dual appearance rather attractive in a way. He was handsome like a car crash. Destructive yet she couldn’t tear her eyes away. Harvey was both Heaven and Hell. The stars and the moon… he was more than his scars and his contrasting nature. Not that she’d ever voice her tidbit of admiration for him. (Your name) feared it would go to his head.

(Your name) was unaware of the storm of lust that brewed within Harvey. Of the way his midwinter sky eyes studied her in the way a predator stalked its prey. She was on his menu… and he would stop at nothing to devour her.

Harvey wanted to consume her. To sink his teeth in her flesh so hard, he left a mark. He wanted to drink (your name)‘s blood until she was dizzy, until she didn’t know where he ended and she began. Harvey wanted to tear her open with his hands so he could crawl inside her ribcage and finally feel like he belonged. He wanted to wrap his hands around her heart and gulp it down before anyone else could try to take it. But he won't—not yet. For now, Harvey would admire her from his position at his half organized and half messy desk. He would pretend that observation from afar would work.

“(Your name)?”

“Yes, sir?” (Your name) smiled at Harvey who returned the smile faintly.

“Please don’t leave me.”

If (your name) would gaze into those piercing blue eyes, she’d see the storm of obsession and love brewing beneath them. Yet she just gave him a soft smile in return.

“I won’t, sir.” She then went back to work as her boss sighed dreamily.

Harvey’s smile soon stretched into a twisted smile. She wouldn’t leave… then maybe it was time to make a move after all?

Harvey was a man lost in madness and darkness, therefore his love would be as well. He knew his love would be intense and twisted like the labyrinth of his mind. Yet he couldn’t help but yearn for love and acceptance.

(Your name) was the only one to show even a hint of either toward him and he lapped at the crumbs of her affection like a man starved of a proper meal for weeks.

Yet she had been kind to him. She had been his savior and his light at the end of his dark tunnel of eternal damnation. Harvey wanted to worship her! To kiss every inch of her skin and whisper words of reverence into her skin until it was permanently etched into her mind like it was his! To lock her away like a dragon did with a beautiful princess in a tower so no one else could harm a hair on her head.

Yet that other half didn’t want that, no… Two Face wanted to ruin her. To sink his fingers until there were petals of purples, blues, and yellows blossomed on her skin. To tear her apart bit by bit with his teeth and then piece her back together in his ideal image of complete submission. Like how Victor Frankenstein created the bride for his monster, except Two Face would be both her creator and other half.

If there was such thing as the red string of fate, he would cut hers and permanently tie her to himself so she could never run from him.

Harvey and Two Face would be bother her protector and the beast that she feared under her bed at night. They were both love and limerence. Both infatuation and unbridled obsession. Two being that tethered on a delicate balance in the single body they shared yet they had one common goal now… to have her.

And they would stop at nothing until she was theirs. Even if he had to isolate her from everything and everyone, he would have her… his inamorata.

[cozymochi]

I wonder what Nyoka looks like as a child, is he like who he is now? He did read his book quietly while sitting beside Jamil, if I read the fic correctly 🤔

(Fic in question) Yea, they sat near each other during a dance performance by Nyoka’s extended family for the Asims🫣

I choose to believe the only reason someone like Jamil happened to be present was because Kalim wanted him there (cuz otherwise he has no business being there).

…but yeah, Nyoka was more or less the same. Just chibi.

[marvelwitchergilmore]

A Good Man

Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> Logan Howlett is a good man. At least, that's what you keep telling him.

Disclaimer: 18+ MDNI. Smut. Steam (figuratively and literally), swearing. Logan is the good guy and you prove it to him. Fluff, cuteness, Logan in a flower crown, angst, happy ending, mentions of Halloween and Christmas. Descriptions of period pains, The Addams Family reruns. Again, MDNI. Not Proof Read.

For as long as you had known Logan, you had known he was a good man. 

It didn’t matter what other people said about him, or what he even said about himself. To you, he would always be a good man. 

And that was something you always tried to remind him of. 

The first time it happened, it had just rolled off the tongue. Of course, you knew you meant it and at the time, you didn’t notice the way Logan’s eyes told you the sad truth that he didn’t believe you. 

It had been one early October morning. You had spent most of the night staying up to cut out some felt and cardboard shapes for your classroom to decorate not only for the fall season but also for Halloween. 

You didn’t expect anyone else to be awake that early so when Logan walked into your classroom just ten minutes after you had returned back to your seat on the floor, practically drowning in Halloween cut-outs. 

“Here.”

Holding down the coffee holder, you were presented with the second cup in the holder, your name written on the side in Logan’s handwriting. 

Still waking up from three and a half hours sleep, you looked up a little shocked. But calmed the minute you saw his own tired smile looking back at you. “Go on.”

Taking the coffee cup from the holder, you brought it close to you, your hands enveloping the hot surface. One sniff and you knew what it was instantly. 

“Oh, my god. You are a saint, Logan.”

Logan couldn’t fully look at you, feeling a little heat on his cheeks. “Yeah, well…don’t mention it.”

He brought his own coffee to his lips as he placed the empty holder onto a nearby desk before walking around you and your sea of Halloween, placing one hand in his pocket as he nursed his coffee. 

“What are you doing?”

You looked around yourself after taking a sip of your drink. It was perfect. 

“Decorating.”

“Aren’t they meant to be on the walls instead of the floor?”

You nodded. “They will be…if I can get them finished in time.”

Logan took a scope of the decorations before taking off his leather jacket, folding it and throwing it over your desk chair. 

“What-What are you doing?”

Logan placed down his coffee on your desk before removing his second plaid shirt. “Helping. Here, you’re cold.”

Logan draped his shirt over your shoulders and you were instantly hit with his warmth and his scent that was still prominent on his jacket. 

“Thank you.”

Putting your arms through, you fastened a couple of buttons. Meanwhile, Logan pushed some of the decorations aside and sat adjacent to you. 

First he picked up an unorganised pile of themed worksheets, flipping through a couple of them. Tapping them down, you pulled your coffee away from your lips. “The paper cutter is-”

As you pointed to the desk behind him, Logan’s claws came out and he just shot you a smirk before swiping down the edges. You pulled back, eyes a little wider. “Or you could just do that.”

Logan let out a small chuckle before doing the same to the other three edges. 

For the smaller cut-outs, he did use the pair of scissors you gave him. 

“How did you know I was awake?” You asked Logan after a few minutes. 

“I didn’t. But I knew you had a late night. Figured coffee couldn’t hurt.”

You smiled, watching where your scissors were slowly going round the corners of the apple tree you were cutting. “You’re a good man, Logan. Not many people would be up this early and bring me coffee.”

A few hours later, everything was finished being cut and Logan leaned back on his hands as he sat on the floor. You were still in his shirt. Was it wrong for him to be admiring how better you looked in his clothes than he did?

“What do you think?”

Logan came back down to earth. “What?”

You rolled your eyes and laughed. “Come and help me.”

Logan got to his feet, dusting off his jeans before walking behind you. “Pass me that?”

Logan did so and stood at the bottom of the ladder, holding it steady. 

It wasn’t long before he himself was up another set of ladders, taking your instructions for how high to hold the bunting. 

“Little further.”

“Any higher and it’ll be in the ceiling.”

You laughed. “Okay, that's perfect.”

By the end of the day, everything was finished and set up ready for a new week. And every time you looked around your classroom and saw the identical looks of wonder and excitement in the kids' eyes, proved that you were right. 

Logan Howlett was a good man. 

Two weeks later, a knock came to your door. 

“Rogue? Is everything okay?”

She shook her head. “Sorta. Freya won’t let anyone brush her hair. She keeps saying it’s hurting her head.”

“Okay, I’m coming. Have you tried detangler spray?”

Rogue shook her head. “She won’t let anyone near her. It already took three of us to get her to shower.”

Finally getting to Rogue’s room, you knocked on the door. “Hey, Freya. What’s going on?”

“It really hurts.”

Rogue knelt beside you, in front of Freya. “Where does it hurt?”

Freya touched her head. “Here. It pulls really tight.”

“Okay.” You looked around. “Would it be okay if I put some magic spray on?”

“Magic spray?”

You nodded, nudging Rogue. Shuffling over, she grabbed the bottle from her desktop before handing it to you.  

“What does it do?”

“Well,” you looked for the nozzle before turning it around and gently picking up the ends of her hair to spray it. “It helps the brush run smoothly down-”

Freya started to panic. “No, no. No. No brush.”

“Freya-”

“What’s going on?”

From the door, Logan was standing leaning against its frame. 

“Freya’s hair sore.” You told him as he walked inside. “She won’t let anyone brush it.”

Logan slowly made his way inside. “Oh, no. That’s not good.”

Logan took a second before pulling his jeans a little to be able to crouch down. “I see Y/n’s already put some magic spray on it?” 

Freya nodded. “She said it’s going to help.”

Logan nodded, placing down the bottle you handed him. “Well, that’s true.”

“Will you let me try and brush it?” 

Freya debated the idea, fear still in her eyes before shaking her head. 

“Okay, that’s okay.” 

Then you had an idea. 

But Logan beat you to it. 

“Would it be okay if I tried?” Logan asked. “I promise I’ll be gentle.”

Freya, although still fearful, slowly handed Logan the brush she’d been holding in a death grip. 

“Come and sit over here, honey.” 

Freya stood up with Rogue’s help before Logan helped lift her onto the vanity stool and crouched behind her. 

“Promise you’ll be gentle?”

“I promise.”

“Pinky swear.”

Logan spotted you and Rogue through the glass for a second before looking back at Freya and linking his pinky with hers. 

It was the first time in a month Freya had sat down, quietly, and not cried or yelled out when someone was brushing her hair. 

By the time Logan had finished, he didn’t know what to do. So, quickly, Rogue came back to his side. “Is it okay if I put it into a braid?”

Freya nodded. “Thank you, Professor Logan.”

Logan gave her a small smile and handed her the brush. “Anytime, kiddo.”

Standing back beside you, your arms crossed your chest and you nudged Logan a tad. “You’re a good man, Logan. Thank you.”

Logan shrugged, putting his hands into his pockets. “She’s a good kid. They all go through this phase. Some are worse than others.”

You smiled at him before looking back to where Rogue was explaining something to Freya.

“Do you know how to do that?”

You looked up at Logan. “What? Braid hair?”

He nodded. 

“Yeah, why?”

He looked at you. “Could you…teach me?”

A slightly wider smile graced your face. “I’d be happy to.”

That was why a few hours later, Rogue was sitting in front of you, whilst Logan was sitting behind you, following along with how you were braiding Rogue’s hair. 

“How do you even learn how to do this?”

“It’s just like riding a bike, Logan. Once you know how to do it, you will never forget it.”

Logan grumbled and let your hair fall through his fingers. Meanwhile, you slowly tugged at Rogue’s fresh braid until it had come undone. 

“I’ll go slow. Just follow me. Split it into three.” 

Logan did that. 

“Take one outer section.”

Logan did that, too. 

“And pull it across the middle.” You move the original middle section to the side before taking the other outer section and pulling that across to create a new middle. 

“And you just keep repeating that until you get to the end of the hair, and finally, finish with a bobble.”

Logan had finally done it. It was loose, but he had done it. 

Rogue’s watch went off. “Shoot. I was meant to meet Bobby.”

“Go ahead, just don’t wreck the kitchen this time.”

Rogue smiled. “We’ll try not to.”

Closing the door behind her, Rogue left. 

You remained seated in front of Logan’s legs as he pulled the hair tie free and your braid fell out again. “Think you can do it on your own?”

Logan let out a breath and tried again. “Outer over middle?”

You nodded lightly. “And then the same on the other side. You’ll be doing french braids before you know it.”

“They can stay in France.” 

Logan continued to braid down your hair. It had been years since someone had played with your hair, and you found it comforting. Raking his fingers from the top of your head, he split it into sections once more and you felt yourself falling asleep. 

Less than a week later, you walked past the living room where you found Freya sat between Logan’s legs as he brushed and braided her hair. 

The next morning you woke up with a smile at the memory before being hit with a dull punch to your lower abdomen. 

You didn’t move for twenty minutes because every time you tried, it seemed to come back. But once it had finally passed, you forced yourself to sit up, your head feeling heavy before you looked at your bedsheets. 

“Of course.” 

For the next two days, all you wanted to do was crawl back into bed. Your period had decided to kick the shit out of you ever since it surprised you by coming a week earlier than expected. 

And by the time Logan found you, you were sitting uncomfortably in the television room, watching reruns of the Addams Family. 

“You look like hell.”

You gave a small sniff. “Feel like it, too.”

Logan pressed his hand to your head. “You’ve got a temperature.”

“It’s just hormones.”

Logan shook his head, pressing the back of his hand to your cheeks before pressing his fingers to your neck but you swatted him away. 

“No, it’s not.”

“Logan, I’m on my period. A week early.”

Logan nodded. “I know. That’s why I brought you this.”

In his hand, Logan handed you a fresh hot water bottle and a packet of chocolate. “Oh, my god,” you sighed. “You’re a saint.”

You could have cried. Maybe you were. 

You were in that much pain, you couldn’t exactly tell. 

Sitting beside you, Logan pulled a blanket over your bottom half as you held the hot water bottle against you and snuggled into his side. 

And for the next hour and a half, Logan stayed by your side, watching the Addams Family Show with you. Half way through, his hand absentmindedly stroked at your hair before he pulled you closer to him, allowing him to kiss the top of your head. 

“You are the greatest man who ever lived, Logan Howlett.” You told him before looking up at him. “I really mean that.”

“I’m sure you do, sweetheart.”

Then you saw it. 

Logan didn’t believe you. Sure, there was the smallest smile to his face, but you could see it in his eyes. He didn’t believe you. 

And that struck you to your core. 

“Logan, look at me.” Pressing your palm to his cheek, you turned his head. “I do mean it. Thank you for everything you’ve done.”

Logan took a moment. Then he smiled. “Don’t mention it.”

And he kissed your head. 

Laying back down on his chest, you watch the rest of the episode whilst your insides started to feel like it was holding a hellhound in a cage that was scratching its way out of you. 

“You okay?”

With your eyes squeezed tight, you nodded. “Just cramps. They’re usually not this bad. Or at least this often.”

Logan nodded, his hand rubbing up and down your back. “What usually helps?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “I usually ride it out. They come in waves.”

“What about painkillers?”

The sharpness finally left but the dullness stayed. “I like to see how high my pain threshold is.”

Logan groaned a little and rolled his eyes. “And you say I have a death wish.”

Taking your hand, Logan walked you towards the door, turning the TV off and throwing the remote back onto the sofa from the door. 

“Where are we going?”

“I’m running you a bath. I’ve heard they usually help.”

And he did. 

Even why you tried to say he didn’t, and you could do it yourself. 

“Sweetheart, you can barely walk.” Logan told you as he splashed the bubble bath through the water. “And I could smell you from down the hall. You need to wash your hair.”

That was how you found yourself sitting into a hot bath, covering yourself with bubbles as Logan came back inside. 

Quietly, he pulled a stool beside the bath as you pushed yourself to sit further forward. “Can you dip your head back?”

Slowly, you did so and it wasn’t long before Logan was running shampoo through your hair, softly scrubbing at your scalp. God, you never wanted to leave. 

Logan felt you relax against his touch, slowly leaning your head back when his palm brushed against your forehead. 

With a cup, Logan let the water fall through your hair, washing the suds away from your scalp, down your back and into the water. 

For both of you, everything felt…quiet. Calm. 

Intimate. 

“Thank you,” you broke the silence eventually. “This really helps.”

Logan pulled his gaze from your back and shoulders, forcing himself to look anywhere else but you. “Good. I’m…I’m glad.”

“Hey, Logan?”

“Yeah?”

“I meant it. What I said before.” You repeated it as you looked back at him. “You are a good man.”

Logan swallowed, avoiding your gaze to look at his hands for a second. “We don’t have to-”

You held onto his hands and he finally looked at you. “I mean it, Logan. You are a good man.”

He shook his head. “No, I’m not.”

“Why?”

His gaze flicked to your lips and back up to your eyes. You couldn’t deny you hadn’t thought about it as well. 

“Because a good man wouldn’t be thinking what I’m thinking right now.”

You felt yourself lean closer to him. “What are you thinking?”

Logan shook his head despite the fact he felt himself move closer to you, too. “You don’t want to know.”

Your own gaze flicked to his lips and back again. “I trust you, Logan. I want you to tell me what you’re thinking.”

Slowly you came to your knees and Logan’s eyes roamed over you, his breath shortening by the time he looked back to your eyes. 

Pulling his hands from yours, one began to brush the wet streaks of hair from your face and neck as the other found your waist and started moving lower towards your hip. 

Despite the hot bath, your skin flared in goosebumps at Logan’s touch, your own breath hitching in your chest. 

“Tell me what you want.”

“I want to kiss you,” Logan held before his palm spread wider on your hip. “I want to feel you.”

“Then do it.”

Logan didn’t need to be told twice. 

Pressing his lips to yours, it wasn’t long before his hands pulled you closer to him, your own hands pulling him in by his collar. You let his hands freely roam your body, before one slipped down and over your ass, hitching you up until your legs wrapped around his waist, a pile of water trailing after you both. 

Turning around, Logan set you down on the counter top, moving back a little before letting his lips make their way down your jaw, neck and chest. 

Cupping the back of his head, you whispered his name. And for a second he pulled away. His hand still by your waist, he leaned over and fumbled with the shower until it was finally spraying out. 

And whilst you waited for it to heat up, Logan put himself back on you. 

His hands were everywhere and it was driving you insane. And once he finally did something about it, you let out a little gasp. 

“Is this okay?”

A smile came to your face as you dipped your head forward, his lips pressing gentle kisses to the side of your neck. 

“More than okay.”

Curling his digits inside of you, you let out a breathy moan and jolted forward a little when his thumb began circling your clit, adding more pressure. 

You gasped. “Logan.”

“S’okay, Sweetheart.” His lips captured yours again as his other hand held you steady by your hair. “Just ride it out.”

Thrusting in and out of you, he continued to curl up inside of you. 

“M-more. Logan.” You moaned in pleasure, your pussy begging for him to circle your clit harder. “Please.”

Entering a third finger, Logan stretched you out as he felt your walls pulse against his fingers. 

“That’s it.” He spurred you on. 

You fell back against the wall as his hand left your head and came to your hip, pulling you closer to him and the edge whilst his fingers curled deeper inside of you. 

“That’s it.”

You gasped. “Keep-keep going. Don’t stop. Logan…”

Almost chanting his name as his mouth made its way down your collarbone, his tongue flicking over your nipple before sucking at the curve of your breast, you felt Logan apply more pressure around your clit, keeping a steady speed as he brushed in a circle. 

You gasped. “Logan, I’m gonna-”

You didn’t have time to finish your sentence as a moan of pleasure escaped from your throat before Logan’s own mouth caught it in his. 

Your breath heavy and your chest heaving to catch it, Logan swiped across your clit a few more times until you had fully finished. 

The steam was growing heavy around you both and once Logan had finally stripped down with your help, it wasn’t long before you found yourself pressed against the glass of the shower, Logan’s hand leaving a running print beside your head. 

He had been washing your body, his hand grazing the loofa over your skin, all the while he pushed the hair from the side of your neck and slowly pressed firm kisses down the length of your neck. 

Slowly, he turned you around before you found your back against the glass, his hand beside your head and his lips on yours once more. 

Mere seconds later, you hooked your leg around his hip and slowly guided himself into you. 

By the time morning finally broke through, you were fast asleep against Logan, miraculously still in the pyjamas you had put on after the best shower experience you had had in years. 

Dressed in his boxers, his legs were tangled with yours, his chest pressed firmly against your back. 

And by the time you woke up, you found two small braids at the side of your head and a note from Logan saying he’d be back later since Storm had dragged him into being the second chaperone for the field trip. 

One busy day and a broken down bus later, Logan finally got home and found you half asleep on the sofa you had been on the night before. 

“Hey,” you whispered, the light from the TV brightening you both for a moment before a laughing track played. “You’re back.”

“I’m back.” Logan whispered back before moving the blanket up a little to allow him to slide in beside you. 

“I missed you this morning.”

“I wouldn’t have left but Storm cornered me when I was making coffee.”

You smiled a little, wrapping your arms around him as he did you with you. “I figured.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Better.” Logan pressed his palm gently against your lower half, holding the small of your belly up a little bit which somehow relieved some of the pressure your uterus had been putting on you since mid-afternoon. 

“Want to head to bed?”

“Soon,” you told him. “I want to find out what happens?”

Logan smiled a little. “Haven’t you watched these before?”

“A dozen times, but I still love them.”

Around ten minutes before the episode finished, Logan felt you grow a little heavy beside him and when he looked down, he found you were fast asleep. He waited for the episode to finish before turning the TV off and bringing his hands under your legs and his arm around your back as he lifted you up. 

By the turn of the hour, you were cuddled back besides Logan, one of his hands at the bottom of your back, the other holding your knee in place over his middle. 

The next couple of months continued the same way. Often, you’d fall asleep or at the very least be half way there before Logan would carry you to bed. It seemed to change every couple of nights who’s room you’d sleep in. 

There were moments when Logan would wake up, roaring from the pain of memories. But he was finding them to be very few and far between ever since he started waking up next to you. 

By Christmas, you couldn’t have been more in love with Logan if you tried. And realising this fact hadn’t been from some grand romantic gesture that would be shown to be in the next Hollywood blockbuster. 

He had simply said that you needed to get some lights for the Christmas tree. 

With his arm around your waist, you looked up at Logan to find a look of confusion on his face. You could practically hear the cogs turning over in his head. 

“What? What is it?”

You looked back at the tree, expecting it to be housing a family of squirrels despite the fact it was artificial. 

Too many kids in the school had an allergy to pine trees. 

“We need some lights.”

Logan walked forward and straightened up the tree and you just stood…shocked. Your hands still clutching themselves in front of you, you felt your heart practically swell with excitement and…

Love. 

“What?” Logan looked at you from behind the tree. 

You broke out in a smile and shook your head. “Nothing. I’m just…excited. It’s officially Christmas.”

“We’re still in November.”

“Barely.” You protested. “And besides, who was the one who wanted to get the tree out of the attic?”

As your arms came around his neck, his arms came around your waist pulling you closer to him as he stepped out from behind the tree. 

“Okay, fine. You’ve got me there. But it’s only because I know Rogue will spend the next week badgering me to get it down.”

“You just keep telling yourself that,” you smiled before kissing him. “You might be a good man, Logan Howlett. But you are a terrible, terrible liar.”

A couple of weeks later, school had finally finished. The Winter exam season was finally over and grading the final paper, Logan threw it into the box before sealing the lid shut and carrying it to the other side of his room, shoving it into the bottom of his closet. 

Riddled with tiredness, Logan slumped down onto the edge of his bed rubbing his face just as you walked in. 

“Here you are.”

Logan looked up and graced you with a tired smile. “Close the door.”

You did so before walking over towards him where he placed his fingers through the belt loops of your jeans and pulled you closer until you were standing in between his legs. 

“Long day?” You asked him as he lay his head against your middle, letting your hands run through the back of his hair. 

“The longest. You?”

You let out a sigh. “Longer still. I think I need to teach a couple of handwriting classes. It’s not the marking that takes forever, it’s the reading. Have you finished?”

Logan looked up at you. “Just finished the last one.”

“I’ve still got a couple more on my desk.”

“They can wait until tomorrow.” Logan told you. “Let’s just take a break. Where are the others?”

“Down by the hill.” You nodded your head towards his window. “Storm’s making it a snow day for everyone. They should be gone for a couple hours.”

“Why didn’t you go with them?” Logan’s hands pushed your shirt up a little allowing him to feel your skin. 

“Because,” you smiled. “I wanted to see you.”

Logan smirked. “Yeah?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

Logan pressed a small kiss to your belly. “Any other reason why?”

You shook your head, acting oblivious. “Not that I can think of.”

Logan pressed some more kisses across your middle whilst his hands started to unbutton your jeans to allow him more access. 

He heard you take in a breath and he smirked, feeling your hands rake through his hair, your nails scratching at his scalp before going down his neck. 

“Well, maybe I can think of one.”

Logan smirked. “If you’re thinking, I’m not doing my job properly.”

Continuing to press his kiss against you, Logan slowly pulled your jeans down your hips, over your ass and down your legs, being sure to press his kiss along your thighs as he brought himself to his knees. 

Trailing his hands up and down your legs as you stepped out of your jeans, Logan looked up at you. 

“Beautiful.”

You felt yourself blush at his words before he pressed a kiss against the inside of your thigh. 

“So beautiful.”

For a moment, you felt your knees go weak. 

Stumbling back a little, you gripped onto the edge of his desk. Slowly, his hand caressed your calf, bringing your leg up. Again, his hot breath trailed up the inside of your thigh, pressing chaste kisses against your skin as he made his way towards where your panties were still on. 

Taking his time with you, he pressed more kisses to your hip bone whilst his fingers toyed with the line of your underwear. 

Pulling each side down at a time, he kissed the soft skin under them before finally removing them all together. 

Finally, pressing kissed down the middle of your stomach as his hands played with your ass, he hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, lifting you a little until you were balancing on the edge of his desk. 

“So wet already.”

His tongue was light at first, against your clit, coaxing it out of hiding until it was fully present for him. With his moans vibrating against your pussy, you gripped the back of his head. 

Gasping, you felt his tongue slip inside of you, tasting every last bit of you. 

Every now and again, his nose would bump against your clit leaving you wanting more, begging him to do more. 

Then he finally listened. 

Pushing a finger inside of you, he hooked it up before pulling back out, all too slowly for your liking. 

Logan looked up for a moment, watching your head fall back as he sucked at you and your own hand went under your top and you began playing with yourself. 

“M-more. Logan. Please.”

With a smirk, Logan added a second finger.

“Keep going,” you pleaded with him before letting out a gasping moan. “That’s- that’s- that’s it. Logan.”

If there was something Logan lived for, it was watching this. Watching your build up before your eventual release. The gasps and moans that escaped your throat, the slight scream you would give as he got you closer and closer to the edge. 

Logan’s jeans restricted him almost to the point of pleasure. “Fuck,” he groaned. 

Lapping you up, Logan was surrounded by your scent and taste. He thrusted faster hearing you go from slowly muttering his own word to almost screaming it. 

With his tongue circling your clit, he felt your walls tighten against his fingers, his hair being gripped by your hand and he finally got the full taste of you. 

Logan made you come twice more before the others got back; once more with his fingers, stretching you out as you lay against his bed, his mouth taking over the work of your hands, leaving them to roam free across him, and finally with you stuffed full of his cock, begging for more as he slowly built up to pounding into you, before flipping you both over, letting you ride him whilst one hand held you steady and the other drove you half to insanity as he played with your clit and his lips left his mark against every corner and curve of your skin. 

And once more after everyone had gone to bed. 

Feeling his chest against your back as you both walked into his room, one hand came up your shirt before the other went down your bed shorts, pulling your fresh panties to the side and circling and dipping into your some more. 

Before you knew it, both of your clothes were strewn across the room and Logan was flipping you over, lifting your ass, allowing his hand to leave its print before snaking around you, letting you beg into his pillows as he flicked at your clit. 

After Christmas, the months began bleeding into one and before you knew it, summer was just around the corner. 

Outside on the fresh grass, Logan was coaching the final baseball game of the day whilst you were with a couple of the kids, picking out fresh flowers from both the garden and the grass.

However, just before Logan was about to yell time on the game, you felt his arms come around your waist. 

He tied his jacket around your waist. “I’ll run you a bath later.”

Logan kissed the shell of your ear before running back across the field, calling time. 

Twenty minutes later, Logan was back at your side, kneeling in the grass with the rest of the kids, and at some point in time, you turned around to find Logan being told to sit still whilst Freya stood in front of him, Rogue sitting beside him taking pictures. 

When Freya moved out of the way, you saw what she had been doing. 

Walking over with a small laugh, you crouched by Freya’s side. 

“Well don’t you look cute.”

Logan tried his best to hide his smile but he couldn’t help it. You caught it anyway. 

“Freya made it for him,” Rogue told you before holding up her camera. “Don’t worry, I’ve got plenty of pictures.”

Freya nodded proudly. “I found some more daisies by the fountain so I could make one for Professor Logan.”

And sure enough, there it was. A daisy chain flower crown around Logan’s head. 

“I made you one, too, Y/n.” Freya showed you as it hung delicately from her arm. “So now you can be matching.”

“Thank you, Freya.” You smiled widely. “Would you put it on for me?”

Freya gave a small smile and shook her head before holding her arm out to Logan. “I think Professor Logan should put it on.”

Logan looked at you and raised his eyebrows for a quick second before carefully removing the crown from around Freya’s arm. Quickly she stepped out of the way and sat in between Rogue’s legs. 

“Take some pictures.” Freya whispered to Rogue. 

With a soft smile, Logan got onto his knees as you fell to yours in front of him. He brushed a few stray hairs from your face before carefully placing the crown securely on your head. 

Logan smiled at you, his thumb brushing your cheek. “Beautiful.”

Rogue gave a small cough with a hidden smirk. It wasn’t uncommon for either you or Logan to get lost in the other's eyes when you were together. There could be thirty people in the room, but the minute you looked at each other, the rest of the world faded away. 

Snapping back into reality, Logan cleared his throat. “What do you think, kid?”

Freya rushed to Logan. “Hmm. It’s perfect!”

You smiled as Freya hugged you. “Thank you, Freya. It’s beautiful.”

“Hey, Freya? Want to take some more pictures?”

“Yes, please.” 

Rogue handed the camera over to her and helped her put it around her neck. “Be careful with it?”

“I promise.”

Rogue held out her pinky and Freya linked her with Rogue’s. 

“Come on, Ms Y/n. I want to show you something.”

“Okay,” you laughed. “I’m coming. Slow down, honey. Don’t fall.”

Rogue watched as Logan watched you and Freya run down the field towards the fountain to a small bed of flowers. 

“You really love her, don’t you?” Rogue asked, already knowing the answer. She looked away before she could see the slight flash of fear on Logan’s face. 

But it was true. 

He did love you. 

Truly loved you. 

And yet…he hadn’t told you yet. 

But you hadn’t told him. 

It had been almost nine months and neither of you had told the other you loved them. Of course, there had been unspoken moments. The slow, lazy mornings when his fingers would trace up and down your back before dipping under the covers pulling you closer to him. The quick goodbye’s between lunch breaks when you’d both rush off to teach your classes. The danger moments where it had almost been said, but the hesitation had been covered up by both of you. 

“It’s okay. Just tell me when you get back.” You’d tell each other. 

Only, you never did. 

You showed it. 

But never said it. 

And as Logan watched you with Freya, holding the butterfly on your finger as Freya worked the camera, snapping some pictures, Logan wondered if he would ever have the courage to tell you. And if that day ever came…would that be the day you leave him? Or worse, get hurt because of him?

You looked back at Logan for a moment as Freya took another picture. And he smiled back, giving you a small wave back. 

“I hope I have what you and Y/n have one day.”

Logan looked at Rogue. “I thought you’re with Bobby?”

Rogue smiled and looked down. “I am. We are. But I think it’ll take a while before he looks at me like how you look at her.”

Logan shook his head with a smile before standing. “Don’t doubt it, kid. He loves you. Anyone with eyes can see it. The same way anyone with eyes can see you eyeing him up from all the way over here.”

Rogue blushed before Logan lowered his hand down to help her up. “Well, it’s not like you two are the most subtle couple in the world. But do you really think so? About me and Bobby?”

“Look, kid. I’m no saint when it comes to advice, or love for that matter, but you just have to take each day as it comes. At the end of the day, if he’s still the one you want to talk to, even when you’re fighting with each other, you’re on a better path than most.”

“Isn’t it better not to fight?”

Logan shrugged. “Fighting is just a part of life, kid. But if ever lays a hand on you, he won’t be standing for very long.”

Rogue gave Logan a small smile. “Bobby’s not like that. And if he ever was, no one else would have to worry about what would happen to him. That I can handle on my own. But thanks anyway.”

Logan nodded and patted her shoulder before looking around. “I’ll be back soon. Keep an eye on Y/n for me?”

“I think she can look after herself,” Rogue nodded. “But sure. Hey, where are you going?”

“Nowhere important. I’ll be back soon.”

Taking the steps two at a time, Logan made his way inside the school.

Hours after the sun had set, you still hadn’t seen Logan since he crowned you with daisies. 

Then, taking a walk into his room, you looked out of his window and saw him sitting in the gardens. 

“Hey, what are you doing out here?”

Logan looked back, a little startled that someone else was out with him. “Nothing. Just…sitting here.”

“Mind if I join you?”

Logan shuffled up a little and you sat beside him. 

Logan was quiet. Usually he’d hold your hand or he’d put his arm around you. This time, he just looked out and away. 

“Is everything okay? I didn’t see you after the flower crowning ceremony.”

You looked up and found the flower crown peeking out from his hair. He still hadn’t taken it off. Or he’d forgotten it was there. 

Yours had been twisted into your hair by Rogue and Freya when it came loose during dinner. 

“I don’t know what we’re meant to be doing.”

You shrugged. “Right now, nothing. I thought we were just sitting here.”

“I’m not a good man, Y/n.”

You drew back a little. “Where is this coming from?”

Logan took a breath. “Rogue made me realise something today and I don’t know what I’m meant to do. I’m not a good man, Y/n. People I care about, people I lov-” 

Logan looked at you and the words faltered in his mouth. 

“They get hurt.” He finalised. “People get hurt because of me.”

“Logan-”

“Or by me. I’m not a good man.”

“Yes, you are!”

“No, I’m not.”

“You’re a good man, Logan,” you finalised. 

“Please. Don’t say things that aren’t true.”

You were baffled. “Why wouldn’t it be true?”

“Because everyone I have ever cared for has gotten hurt or died. And I can’t put you through that. I can’t see you getting hurt because of me.”

You shook your head. “Logan, I’m not going to get hurt because of you.”

“Really? Because if you haven’t noticed, our lives aren’t exactly the most normal in the world.”

“Maybe not, but I’m enjoying my life so far.” You raised your voice a little as Logan stood up, beginning to pace. 

“I’m not good enough for you, Y/n. You deserve the good guy.”

“You are a good guy.” You stood, walking towards him. 

With his hands on his hips, Logan stopped pacing and you stopped walking, falling six feet short of him. “No, I’m not. People…people don’t take someone like me home. They don’t marry someone like me. They don’t end up with someone like me. You don’t want me.”

You took a step forward. “Yes, I do.”

“No, you don’t. I’m not the good guy. The one you can take home.”

You took a breath. “Logan, I am home. And you are the good guy. You always have been. Whoever convinced you you’re not the good guy can fuck off. And nothing you say will convince me otherwise.”

Logan almost pleaded. “Why?”

Logan knew he didn’t have the best record when it came to those he loved, surviving past so many years of friendship with him. Leaning on over a hundred years, Logan had known loss in more ways than one. Why couldn’t you see that you could lose, too? That because of him, because fate seemed to have damned him to a life of forever losing those he loved, you would lose, too? Why couldn’t you see that by being with him, you were putting your own life on the line? 

“Because I love you, Logan!” 

Logan felt like he’d been kicked in the chest by a horse. “Nothing you or anyone else can say or do will ever convince me that you’re not the good guy. Because you are. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Hell, I’m seeing it right now.”

You gestured to his head. 

The Daisy Chain Flower Crown. 

He’d almost forgotten it was still on his head. 

“Logan, you have spent your entire life looking out for people.”

“They still get hurt.”

“Maybe,” you shrugged. “But that wasn’t your fault. Sometimes there is nothing any of us can do that will stop someone from getting hurt because sometimes that’s just how it’s meant to be. Sometimes we can learn from it, most of the time it’s just a shit part of life. Logan, you are a good guy. Better yet, you’re a good person. You always help when you can. You take care and look out for those you care about.”

You continued. “Whoever told you you’re not the good guy, they were wrong. Plain and simple. If you’re not the good guy, then who sits on a classroom floor at five in the morning cutting out decorations for somebody else's classroom? Who brings me coffee every morning, just how I like it? Who helps a little girl not be afraid of brushing her hair anymore? Who then asks to learn how to style hair so he can do it for her? Who helps set up a Christmas dance, and steps in to help the kids learn how to dance properly?”

That was something you remembered most often. Rogue and Bobby had been struggling to learn how to dance together, forever stepping on each other's toes. Until Logan had been through watching enough second-hand pain and stepped up. 

He had taken your hand in his, setting your book face down on the side table beneath the lamp and talked Rogue and Bobby through it. 

“Logan,” you whispered to him. “I don’t know how to dance.”

“Just follow my lead,” he whispered into your ear. 

You later found out, over a hot cup of tea, that he had learnt to properly dance when he was younger (at least, that’s what he figured from his muscle memory) but most of it came from when he had a short stint as a security guard at a retirement centre where some of the older women would ask him to dance with them before pushing him off to dance with their visiting granddaughters. 

Logan had led you effortlessly, leaving both Rogue and Bobby in shock. Parting from you, Logan helped Rogue learn first, it being clear she wasn’t a natural follower. And then he taught Bobby, making him copy his steps as he moved with an imaginary partner. 

“Who spends entire evenings sitting watching reruns of black and white TV shows with me, even if we’ve seen them a thousand times? Who spends more time holding doors open, grabbing things from the higher shelves, braiding kids' hair when they ask, helping Rogue learn how to bake properly without burning the kitchen down? You do. You do, Logan. Because that is who you are. You are the guy that, even hours later, still wears the flower crown in his hair because someone made it for him.”

You held your hands by his neck, making him look at you. 

“And that is why I love you.” 

His gaze finally zoned in on yours. 

“Because for all your gruffness, grunting and brooding, you are kind. And thoughtful. And considerate. And I don’t think you realise how good you truly are, Logan. I don’t care if you think I’m going to get hurt. What hurts me is you thinking you’re not good enough for me, because you are Logan. You are the guy I could only ever dream of finding, when I was a kid. And even then, I didn’t find you. You found me. Sitting on that hardwood floor in my classroom where you brought me my coffee and gave me your jacket to keep me warm. I love you, Logan Howlett. Nothing can ever change that for me.”

Finally kissing him, you felt every emotion pour not only from yourself but also from Logan. Your kisses bled from his lips, across his cheeks and finally to the side of his neck as his arms wrapped around you, holding you flush against him. 

He didn’t want to let go. 

With one hand in your hair and the other wrapped around your back, Logan pressed you even closer, taking in your scent with his. 

“I love you so much.”

Logan’s words vibrated through your entire system and for a moment, your heart relaxed. Pulling back a little so you could see his face, your thumbs brushed across his cheeks as his forehead pressed against yours. 

“You are my home, Logan. I love you. I always will.”

“I love you, too.”

“Never let me go.”

“Never.” 

Logan barely had time to get his words out before his mouth found yours for a second outpouring of emotion. 

Eventually, you both finally made it back upstairs where Logan helped you into a hot bath whilst the sound of old reruns came from your bedroom TV.

After that night, never a day went by where you didn’t tell each other you loved each other. Nor was there a day where Logan didn’t prove you wrong. He was the good guy. He was your home. 

And you loved him for it. 

And he loved you back, just as strongly. 

[paulyenvol6]

Acting Out Of Love

Based on this request

Your husband Daemon and you have an ugly fight after which you don't speak to each other. Your children are quick to notice it though and come up with a plan to make you reconcile.

I loved this request and I had so so much fun writing this so thank you very much <3 Also, please feel free to send me your requests and tell me what you would like me to write

Contains: angst, fighting, fluff

Wordcount: ~5.67k

Masterlist

You had your lips pressed together and head turned away.

Your hand gripped the edge of the table tightly, anger controlling your senses and you felt so heated that you just wished for a cold rain soaking your body.

"I said no, Daemon.", you hissed at him.

Your husband had his eyes closed as if he tried to calm himself but it clearly didn't worked because he pushed himself away from the wall against which he had rested and restlessly walked back and forth.

"And I'm asking you once again, why?! Why, y/n?"

You exhaled loudly and threw your hands in the air.

"Because she is too young. I can't believe I even have to discuss this with you. Visenya is 8 years old. Not old enough to climb on a dragon on her own. She can fly with you but she is not going to take off with Sirmai alone."

He rolled his eyes.

"Gods be good, y/n! Our daughter is made of fire. She belongs on that dragonback. It's where she is alive."

You laughed out madly and approached him with quick steps.

"Yes. I want her to be alive. And if she is on that dragon alone nothing can assure me that she'll get back on the ground alive."

Daemon shook his head and lowered his head. "Visenya claimed Sirmai, she is not going to get her in danger."

"But she is eight, Daemon! Saena was 10 when we first let her fly on Cloudchaser and Wyllam as well."

Your husband raised his chin and defiantly chewed on his buttom lip. "Visenya is tough. And she wants it too."

You threw your head back.

"This is so stupid, Daemon. I said no. I'm her mother and I'm not going to risk my daughter's life because you act irresponsible and emotional and without reason."

"Oh so I'm the bad father now, is that what you're trying to say?"

You crossed your arms in front of your chest.

"No, but it in this case, yes. You're putting your honor as a Targaryen and as a dragonrider above Visenya's well-being."

Now it was Daemon who laughed and rubbed his tired eyes.

"I can't believe you just said that…"

He abruptly turned around and lifted his finger to point at you.

"I love our daughter as much as a father can love his child. But she is ready and maybe you can't see that but I can. I'm telling you, we should allow her to mount Sirmai."

You shook your head, trying to make your expression look as cold as possible.

"No, Daemon. I will not allow it and so it's not going to happen."

He exhaled loudly and shook his head in disbelief.

"And I can't believe you are always coming up with 'she's meant for it as a Targaryen'. Yes, the blood of the dragon runs in her veins but that doesn't mean that you can use that fact as a justification. She is still my daughter and as much as I respect Targaryen tradition, she is still half dornish and sometimes I have the feeling that you think of your side as superior and more distinctive."

He turned to walk away from you.

"This is stupid…"

You glared at him and narrowed your eyes. "No it's not, Daemon."

"It is and I have no desire to listen to any more of your childish outbursts. I'm going to bed now."

You watched him with flashing eyes as he hasted through your chambers but before he passed you you held out your arm to stop him. Your head hit his chest and his eyes shot down to meet yours.

"You will not sleep in here tonight," you whispered dangerously and Daemon frowned.

"You're not being serious, are you?"

But you remained persistend and gestured to the door.

"I am. I don't want you in here."

He grinded his teeth and his eyes twinkled and yet he did as you had demanded and was quick to leave your chambers.

Once he was outside you inhaled deeply and sat down on a chair. You closed your eyes in a desperate attempt to make your boiling blood calm down but it took you some time until you opened them and you were able to think normally again.

~~~~~~~~~~

You saw your husband again the next day for breakfast. Your children were playing by the fire surrounded by maids and servants and septas and when you entered Daemon was just reading a piece of parchment but lowered it when he saw you.

You on the other hand completely ignored him and didn't look at him for a mere second. You had decided to give him the silent treatment and just act like he wasn't there. So instead of giving him a morning kiss like you usually would have done you walked to your children and caressed your daughter Saena's dark hair.

Your children were a mixture of your husband's and your features. While Visenya, Wyllam and Meradith came more after Daemon and his Targaryen looks, your eldest daughter Saena and Orlyn had your thick brown hair and darker eyes and skin as their siblings. Meralith on the other hand was the pure image of her father. Silver straight hair, light eyes and the only difference to Daemon was her darker tan. The girl would soon turn 6 and you lovingly watched your children while ignoring your husband's presence.

Orlyn, your youngest just brought you a little dragon that his uncle had gifted him for his name day and pulled it through the air.

"I called him Aero, mother. And when I have my dragon one day I'll call him Aero too."

You smiled softly and caressed your son's shoulder.

"That's a name fit for a fierce dragon, my darling."

Your son smiled contendly and babbled something while shifting his attention to his toy again. You straightened up again now and walked towards the breakfast table, still not giving a glance at Daemon. He on the other hand watched your every move but when he realized what it was you were doing he lowered his head as well and folded his hands in front of him.

He was way too proud to give in and talk to you. He was pissed and hurt (even if he wouldn't admit it) but definitely wouldn't communicate with you about his feelings now that you seemed so indifferent. So his expression changed to cold as well and he leaned back in his chair grabbing the parchment once more and fixed his eyes on the letter beneath him. If you were to treat him like this he would play along.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next days you spent almost entirely ignoring each other. Of course you saw Daemon during the meals and when you spent time with your children but you didn't say more than necessary, never looked at him and especially never exchanged any sort of loving affection. You were stubborn and still furious and wanted him to feel that.

In your head Daemon had acted unreasonable and childish and you just hated it because you felt like he didn't actually listen to you. Why was it that you always had to keep a light head while he came up with dangerous ideas and plans and acted as if you were too controlling and scared. You weren't scared, you simply wanted your children to be safe, seven hells.

Daemon on the other hand was equally angry and couldn't understand your behaviour any better. To him, his suggestion was the perfect proof of his love to his children and he simply knew that Visenya would be perfectly fine on her dragon. He felt like you were controlling him and taking part in a piece of his family history that you just couldn't understand that well because you weren't a dragon rider yourself. Daemon was secretly hurt because in his understanding you were trying to claim that part of his identity and that translated in his anger.

And yet through all of his fury, he couldn't help but glance at you when you entered a room. Just like you also took care of him from afar, he had to make sure that you were alright, that you were eating enough and that you weren't overwhelmed with taking care of the children.

One time you didn't attend supper and Daemon had been worried when he found out that you had a headache. Everything inside of his screamed to approach you to take care of you but he couldn't get over his pride and he also wasn't sure whether you would even want him there.

So instead of visiting you, Daemon sent servants to your rooms every 10 minutes and ordered them to make sure you were fine and ask you whether you needed anything. In the meantime the prince walked up and down in his chambers and nervously nibbled at his nails. He hated this so much but what was he to do? He was a stubborn and proud person and remained angry with you. He certainly wouldn't be the first one to give and come apologizing.

~~~~~~~~~~

Four days after your fight, things shifted though because while Daemon tied his hair in the morrow there was a knock on the door.

A part of him hoped that it was you who finally wanted to discuss things but once he had ordered the person to come in the door slowly opened. He turned to see who it was and his face softened when he saw his daughters one by one peeking into the room. Daemon smiled gently and gestured them to come in. The three girls walked to their father who sat down on a chair and lifted his eyebrows at their careful and uncertain expressions.

"What is it, girls? You seem serious."

Saena, your eldest daughter nibbled at her thumb while glaring at her sisters.

"I-Is there something wrong?"

Daemon frowned. "What do you mean, darling?"

Now it was Meralith who stared at her father with big eyes and seemingly was sad.

"You almost haven't spoken to mommy yesterday. And the day before. And the day before," she mumbled and Daemon felt a little stitch in his heart.

He reached down to grab the girl under her arms and lifed her onto his lap. Then he caressed her silver hair out of her face and determindly looked into his daughters' eyes.

"Everything is fine, girls. Your mother and I have been very stressed the past days and sometimes there isn't a lot of time to talk to each other. But we cherish and love every second we get to see each other, alright?"

The only one who looked a little more relieved was Meralith on his lap but Saena and Visenya frowned and pouted.

"But it's never like that," Visenya claimed and crossed her arms in front of her chest. "You never talk to mother or kiss her or even look at her."

Daemon shook his head.

"I promise you that we have everything under control. In a few days there will be less things going on and your mother and I will have more time for each other again. You on the other hand – " He caressed his daughter's head. "Don't need to worry about anything."

Visenya sighed while Saena still looked suspicious but the three girls decided not to uphold the discussion any longer and told their father they would go in the gardens to play now. Daemon nodded feeling relieved and told them he would have to attend a small council meeting and reminded them of their lessons with their septa later.

What the rogue prince didn't know was that you just had had quite a similar conversation with your sons only a few feet away. Because Wyllam and Orlyn had knocked on your door even earlier. Orlyn with his four years was your youngest child and Wyllam had come to you with him because his brother had felt very anxious the past days because just like his sisters, he had sensed that his parents weren't on good terms with each other.

And so you had assured your sons that everything was perfectly fine, just as Daemon had your daughters. Of course you knew that you shouldn't lie to your children but this whole situation was already exhausting enough so you didn't additionally need your children to suffer from this. It was easier that way. Telling them that mommy and daddy were fine and they didn't have to worry about anything. And perhaps you would be. Maybe.

But Daemon and you didn't know that your children were way too smart to be tricked like that. They had left the both of you alone and pretended to believe you to some extent but once your three daughters had left Daemon's room and walked outside the castle to sit on a bench in the gardens Visenya looked at her older sister with a deep frown between her eyebrows.

"Do you believe father, Sae?" she asked and Saena thoughtfully bit her buttom lip.

"I don't know. I can't believe that we imagined this."

Tears were glistening in Meralith's eyes as she pulled at her sister's sleeve.

"I-I want mommy and daddy to love each other," she whimpered and Saena caringly wrapped her arms around the little girl.

"It's fine, Mera. They do love each other."

But then she turned to Visenya again.

"But if father says so we are to believe him. He says we shouldn't worry and maybe – "

But her sister crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"I don't care what he says. I know that something's wrong."

Meralith stared at her other sister now and pouted.

"B-But no… Please Sae, do something."

Her eldest sister sighed and chewed on her lower lip. She wanted to say something when they were interrupted by their brother Wyllam who had sneaked up on his sisters from behind a tree.

"Arghhh," he made and Saena shrieked. "Oh Wyllam, stop it!"

Her brother laughed and held his stomach while Visenya angrily flashed her eyes at him.

"Not funny at all," she hissed.

Orlyn stumbled towards his sister behind his brother and as with his sister Meralith tears swam in his eyes. Wyllam turned to him and then sighed.

"He is sad all the time and I wanted to play with him but he didn't want to so I thought you could take him."

Visenya reared up in front of him.

"So you thought you could just bring him to us whenever he bores you?"

Her brother rolled his eyes and attempted to pat her head but the girl pushed away his hand.

"Relax, sister. You are… girls. You are better with emotions."

That made Visenya jump at Wyllam and her fists came down to hit him in his stomach.

"I make you feel emotions now, you little – " Saena came forward and wrapped her arms around her sister to pull her back.

"Oh stop it, the both of you."

Being older and stronger Saena was able to separate the fighting siblings and then once everyone was at calm again and Wyllam and Visenya only angrily glared at each other the eldest sibling kneeled down in front of Orlyn.

"What is it, little brother?"

The boy sucked on his thumb and stared up to his sister without bringing out a word.

Wyllam shrugged. "It's because of mother and father. He believes they are fighting because they haven't spoken that much and now his whole world has been destroyed."

He rolled his eyes and indifferently plucked an apple from a nearby tree which he examined closely for holes or worms.

"Oh Orlyn," Saena sighed and hugged her brother.

"I don't think there is reason to worry though," said Saena then. "We've spoken to father and everything is fine between them."

Visenya cleared her throat while her youngest brother looked from one sibling to the other.

"At least that's what he said. I believe that they have fought. It's always like this when they fight."

Saena shifted her attention from Orlyn to her sister. "What do you mean, always? They don't fight often."

Visenya rolled her eyes.

"Yes, I know. But when it happens they always ignore each other. Like today and the day before."

Saena tiredly rubbed her eyes.

"I mean… Maybe you are right after all. I sensed something as well but I thought now that father has claimed that we shouldn't worry…"

Wyllam had started to eat his apple but now that even his eldest sister doubted their parents' reassurances he also looked a little worried.

"I've taken Orlyn to mother in the morrow. He was so sad that I thought if we spoke to her, mother could calm him. But though she did, Orlyn remained panicky."

Visenya lifted her eyebrows. "You've spoken to mother? And she said that as well?"

Wyllam nodded. "Yes. She said that her and father were perfectly fine."

Saena put a hand to her lip and hummed to herself. "What should we do now?"

Everyone stared at each other as if they would find a solution in their sibling's faces but no one came forward with a suggestion. It was Meralith who opened her mouth first.

"I want mommy and daddy to love each other again," she whispered again with her eyes dropped to the ground.

Saena, who felt the most responsible and caring towards her siblings took a step towards her sister and pressed the girl's head to her chest.

"They still love each other even when they're fighting, Mera. They are just not talking at the moment but they are still in love, do you understand me?"

Saena kissed her hair and felt her sister nod slightly. So she pulled back, having made sure that Meralith was fine and questioningly looked around in the circle. Visenya cleared her throat and rested her hands on her hips.

"We should do something. Give them no choice but to talk to each other."

Wyllam agreed and nodded.

"We could lock them in the same room," he suggested, but Saena shook her head.

"That goes too far, brother. And how would you even do it? No, we have to come up with something else. Though I'm not sure if we even should interfere…"

Visenya rolled her eyes and walked back and forth.

"Of course we should interfere, sister. Otherwise they're never gonna speak again."

Her youngest siblings looked shocked at her words and fearfully stared at her with big eyes.

"Stop scaring them," complained Saena.

"She is not being serious," she then spoke to Meralith and Orlyn. "Of course mother and father are going to speak again."

Then the eldest girl sighed and looked at Visenya.

"Fine. Maybe we could try it. We should make them talk again."

Her sister nodded contendly and clapped her hands. "Perfect. I already have a plan."

Wyllam frowned. "You do?"

She nodded and pointed at Orlyn. "What is your favourite game?"

The boy widened his eyes and his gaze wandered over his sibling. "Hide and seek."

Visenya nodded. "Exactly. Mother and father will notice that Orlyn is feeling a little weary and sad. So he will go them, perhaps separately and tell them that he would love to play a round of hide and seek with the whole family." She smiled mischieviously. "And then we will manipulate the game so mother and father are in the same team. Then they will have no choice but to talk again and everything will be fine."

The girl smiled proudly and looked from Saena to Wyllam waiting for their admirations but her sister frowned.

"What if they don't have the time? Or they don't want to? Father said it himself, they're very stressed at the moment."

But Visenya shook her head and sighed. "You forget that this was only an excuse, sister. And Orlyn just has to be persistent with them."

"I can do that," her brother claimed and raised his chin.

Wyllam also thoughtfully hummed.

"But what if they won't talk? They can play the game with us and still just ignore each other…"

Visenya realized that he had a point and his sisters remained silent for a moment. Then it was Saena who shrugged.

"We could try it though, right? It's not a perfect plan but it's better than doing nothing."

Visenya nodded enthusiastically while Wyllam hesitatingly tilted his head but it was decided. Meralith and Orlyn were seemingly merely glad that something was happening to make their parents reconcile and so in the afternoon Orlyn shyly knocked at your door while your handmaidens were brushing your hair that always got so messy over the day.

When you saw who it was you smiled softly and sent away your servants. Your son still looked a little sad so you took him into your arms, lifted him and caressed his dark hair.

"My sweet boy," you purred while holding him closely to you.

Orlyn crouched against your neck which made you close your eyes simply enjoying the closeness to your youngest child.

"Mommy?" he then hummed against your neck after a while and you felt the vibrations in your whole body.

"Yes, love?"

"Can we play a game in the gardens? Please."

You sighed and drew your face in a painful smile.

"Oh Orlyn, it's really… I have so much to do…"

Your son pouted at you and you felt a little stitch in your heart at his dissatisfied expression. "Please mommy."

You chuckled at his dark puppy eyes that looked so much like your little sister's and suddenly you remembered the way she had looked at you as a child when she used to ask you to play with her and so you knew you couldn't refuse your son.

"Alright, sweetling. What do you want to play?"

Your son shrieked excitedly which made you deepen your smile and his hands grabbed your shoulders.

"I want to play hide and seek. With Meralith and Wyllam and Visenya and Saena."

You nodded and put Orlyn back to his feet. "Fine. As you wish, love."

And so the two of you walked out of your chambers and to the gardens where your other children were already waiting. You hadn't lied when you said that you had a lot of things to do, but when Orlyn had come to you earlier to ask about Daemon and you, you had sensed that your son was feeling a little worried and anxious, even after you had assured him that everything was the way it was supposed to be. And so you had decided to make some time for your youngest son to give him your love and affection and make sure he didn't feel sad and concerned anymore.

Now you stood with your children but just when you were about to ask them what teams each of you were playing in Orlyn excused himself. You didn't see the wink that was exchanged between your son and Visenya because their plan was it to get your husband now and in that way give Daemon and you no choice but to talk about your differences.

You didn't know that though and just watched your son haste inside the castle with a surprised expression but were quickly distracted by Meralith who showed you a bunch of beautiful flowers she had collected. You admired and complimented each of it and were leaned down to closely examine the flowers when suddenly your daughter shrieked and twitched. A bee had stung her on her arm and tears filled her eyes at once.

"Owww," she cried and you were shocked when you saw the sting starting to swell.

"Oh no no," you made and grabbed your daughter's arm to look at the sting. The girl cried in panic while your other children gathered around their sister.

"What is it, mother?" Wyllam asked, his voice thick with concern and you kneeled in front of Meralith.

"Saena, get the grand maester. Quickly."

Your eldest daughter looked equally shocked as your other children and swiftly ran off inside the castle.

"It's alright, sweet girl," you tried to sooth Meralith even though you felt really scared yourself. Her whole arm was swollen by now and your daughter looked pale in her face though you weren't sure if it might be caused by her shock.

"Everything will be fine, Mera. Just look at me and breathe."

You had to keep a clear head and clam your children who all nervously wandered around and Wyllam had started nibble at his thumb, a habit he had since he was a young boy.

"Mother, what's happening? It looks so scary," he asked.

You caressed Meralith's shoulders and tried to breathe steadily.

"It's just a bee sting. Saena will be back soon with the grand maester and then everything will be fine."

Your daughter's cheeks were coated with her tears and you just prayed that your words would turn out to be truthful. And then finally your eldest daughter returned, old grand maester Simon hasting behind her. He was breathless and held his chest as he kneeled down in front of your daughter.

"Oh gods be good. What happened here?" the old man asked and Meralith's lower lip trembled.

You took a step back to let Simon take a look at the sting and wrapped your arm around Wyllam and Visenya. Anxiously you bit your lip and waited while watching the grand maester doing his work when there was suddenly someone else entering the gardens. You had totally forgotten about Orlyn and the fact that he had mysteriously left the scene to get back to the castle but now your son walked out with Daemon.

All of a sudden there was a tightness in your throat and you felt the need to cry and just hug your husband. He narrowed his eyes when he understood the scene and hurried to Meralith who was still crying.

"Darling! What happened?"

It wasn't you who answered although you wanted to. Simon explained it to Daemon while your youngest frightened son ran to you and pressed himself to your legs. You petted his hair while you watched Daemon talking to his daughter with his eyebrows drawn together. His hands held hers tightly and then you head Simon speak again.

"First she should go to bed now and rest. I'll bring the medicine that she might require."

And so your husband picked your daughter up from the ground and carried her inside with Simon following close behind. For a brief moment Daemon and your eyes met and all he could see was the worry and angst on your face. Then they were inside and as much as you wanted to hurry inside too to by at your daughter's side, you had to calm and be there for your other children now.

~~~~~~~~~~

And that you did. You stayed with Orlyn, Wyllam, Saena and Visenya by the fireplace, read them from their favourite books and assured them that their sister would be fine.

It had gotten late and soon Wyllam expressed that he was tired and wanted to go to bed so that was what you did next. It took some time bringing each child to their rooms, covering them up with their blanket (the only exception was Visenya who insisted that she was old enough to do it herself), wishing them a good night and promising them that in the morrow they could see Meralith.

It was the hour of the owl when Saena drifted off to sleep and you sighed as you left her chambers. Your plan was to finally look after Meralith but just when you were about to enter her rooms grand maester Simon opened the door and put his finger to his lips.

"Shh. She has just fallen asleep."

He closed the door behind him so you didn't have a chance to peek inside the room.

"How is she? Please, I need to see her."

Simon looked pitiful as he shook his head.

"She is fine, my lady. She will be fine. But you shouldn't disturb her now, it has taken hours until she was calm enough to drift away to sleep."

You exhaled bitterly. Everything was just so overwhelming and the worry about your daughter restricted the air coming to your lungs.

"Fuck," you breathed because you had held back your emotions all evening and now all you wanted was to see that Meralith was fine and not even that you could do.

"I'm sorry. But she needs her rest, I recommend you come and see her first thing in the morrow."

You nodded though you felt disappointed and sad. Simon bowed his head and then turned to walk away from you. You were left feeling cold and lonely and in desperation. You inhaled a few times and then unwillingly returned to your chambers.

Once you were there you felt empty and numb but knew that you wouldn't be able to sleep now. You wished you could fall asleep next to your daughter because you were certain that her presence was all you needed right now to be calm. Knowing that you were denied that, you walked up and down in your chambers so close to tears but they just wouldn't spill for some reason.

Suddenly there was a knock on your door and absently you called "Come."

Only after the words had left your mouth did you realized what you had done. You couldn't bare the presence of anyone who was not Meralith right now and you wanted to slap yourself for not thinking before speaking.

But when the door opened your eyes rounded and it felt as though a weight dropped from your heart.

Daemon stood in the door watching you with tired eyes that in an instant made a warmth spread in your body. The lump in your throat seemed to somehow increase in size and now you felt that the tears started to form in the corner of your eyes.

You saw him gulp and then walk towards you and without speaking a word Daemon wrapped his arms around you. You held him equally tightly and for a moment you felt so relaxed and at calm that you forgot every worry or concern and the comfort of his body so close to yours made a few tears escape your eyes.

"She'll be fine, y/n," Daemon hummed against your hair and you nodded against him.

"Yes. Yes, she will be."

Then you pulled away from him but still had your hands on his shoulders.

"Did you see her? Is she in pain?"

Daemon smiled softly and caressed your back.

"I did see her. She was scared, but… no, she wasn't in great pain."

Then he pressed you against his chest again so you felt the warmth of his body and now you realized how much you had missed him these past days. Gods, how had you done it? How had you survived without laying next to him at nights, without smelling his familiar scent?

"I'm sorry, y/n," he now whispered against your ear and your thumb soothed his collarbone.

"Me too," you said and then once again pulled back to watch your husband.

"I know that all you did was act out of love for Visenya. I'm sorry for what I accused you of and I know that I perhaps was too hasty and I… I didn't think about what I was asking of you," Daemon stuttered and you smiled softly.

"And I shouldn't have said that you were acting like a bad father. I know that you're not."

He grabbed your hand while watching you with these puppy eyes that immediately made you melt.

"I know that you're right. Our daughter should always be safe and I-I don't know what possessed me. There's nothing wrong with waiting another year until she will mount her dragon and I want her to be safe too. I just… I guess I just felt hurt hearing you speak about how dangerous it is to be on dragonback. It felt like you thought of dragonriders as ridiculous and imprudent. And then... I thought you were trying to take this part of me and my identity away. And then maybe I was scared that you would never allow Visenya to mount her dragon and that made me act irrational and emotional. Gods… I know that it was so childish of me to come forward with this idea and stubbornly insist on it."

He kissed the back of your hand and then you reached up to hold the side of his beautiful face.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to feel you like that. And I know that you acted out of love as well. I know that you're proud of your family and your traditions and I respect that so much, love. I know that you want Visenya to carry this tradition as well and share it with her and just like you, I can't wait until she will. I don't think of dragonriders as imprudent. I think of them as fierce and brave and I know that Visenya will do an amazing job."

His eyes lovingly looked into yours and he squeezed your hand tightly.

"Thank you," he merely spoke and then you leaned forward to kiss Daemon on his lips.

That night you didn't throw out Daemon. That night you didn't feel cold or lonely.

That night you held your husband tightly with his arms wrapped around your back while your hands were buried in his hair. You both knew that it would probably get way too warm in the night because a thick blanket was additionally covering the both of you but you didn't care. All you wanted was to feel Daemon again and so you drew patterns on his scalp while the both of you drifted away with your thoughts.

"I love you, y/n. So much."

You smiled with closed eyes. "I love you, too, Daemon."

And then you fell asleep with your last thought being that you promised yourself you would never let such a stupid fight get between you.

[valyrianvibranium]

STRESS RELIEF.

Daemon Targaryen x female!Reader

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT-MINORS DNI; implied canon typical incest/ targcest (no named relationship other than husband & wife but reader speaks high valyrian), oral (m receiving), balls sucking, balls worship, cock slapping, breeding kink, fem reader (no mentions of appearance)

WORDS: 2.9 K

NOTES: I KNOW I said you won't get anything from me for the next two weeks, but this is an old story I love and edited, and I'm always in the mood to suck his balls. Ty Lana @zaldritzosrose 🤍

❗️𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

The door to your chambers bursting open with a thud, the thick wood slamming against the old masonry of Maegor’s Holdfast, is what forcefully pulls you out of your slumber.

As your eyes shoot open, you need a few seconds to adjust to the dim light of your chambers, the flame of the fireplace long extinguished and indicating it’s been a while since you found sleep.

Every sense of tiredness that has lingered in your bones vanishes suddenly at the noisy intrusion, more so as you spot the armor-clad silhouette of your husband standing at the threshold of your marital quarters.

He appears to be even more bulky and bull-like with the natural broadness of his shoulders accentuated by the heavy armor and the golden cloak, and just that sight alone has an aching desire filling your veins.

It’s the closer look you take that makes you aware of his labored breathing, chest rising and falling with heaving breaths, almost seeming as though he’s in great stress.

Whenever Daemon barges into your chambers at this hour, still wearing his armor, you know he needs to be consoled and pampered.

“Husband?” Your soft voice finally pierces through the silence, still thick with sleep from being awoken so abruptly.

A few, determined strides is all it takes him to enter the room, closing the door behind him as loudly as he’s opened it before. Although you know something is plaquing his mind, and that he’s not usually as harsh towards you as this, you still flinch at the thud.

Sitting up straight with the bedcovers bunched in front of your breasts, you have a puzzled look on your face. One of the few things Daemon has established fairly early into your marriage was the strict prohibition of you wearing any kind of smallclothes or nightgowns to bed, as he wants you to lie just as bare next to him as he always does.

He always states that there are quite a few practical reasons for it, with easier and quicker access to your cunt being the main one of them. Albeit you know for certain that he just loves to feel your skin on his when he falls asleep, solely embraced by the warmth and softness of your body snuggled up against his.

Clashing of metal accompanies his heavy footsteps as he approaches you, stern gaze fixed on your small frame.

The closer he gets, the more you are able to make out his chiseled features with long strands of his silver-blonde hair framing them perfectly. Even in the almost non-existent light of your chambers you notice the dark blown eyes, the adored lilac almost fully eclipsed by pitch black.

“Va aōha ybon,” he rasps, voice deep and commanding, and leaving no space for any kind of objection. On your knees.

You comply swiftly, the bedcovers thrown aside to reveal your naked form. A somewhat feral growl ripples through your husband’s chest at the sight, the curves and dips of your body enhanced by the light the moon casts through the windows.

The stone floor feels cold and hard as you sink to your knees, causing you to shift your weight from one knee to the other and back, trying to mend the discomfort at least slightly.

It usually requires your help to strip him off his heavy armor, but much to your surprise, Daemon manages to shred himself out of the majority of it all by himself, driven by sheer lust and hunger for you.

Where his silver hair is usually well combed and neat, the loose tresses now cascade down his shoulders and back visibly tousled and dirty.

Your hands lie folded in your lap, thumbs brushing over each other in a way to keep yourself calm. You have been married to Daemon for two summers, but know his silence never means anything good. It is threatening, and more often than not getting you into trouble, because he always has something to say.

As he stands in front of you in his full glory, only clad in a pair of dark breeches and a loose tunic, you hesitantly reach to place a hand on his sturdy thigh while his hand cups your cheek in return. Finding yourself leaning into the touch, you’re quickly repulsed as you catch a whiff of what smells like sweat, dirt and… iron.

“What have you done today?“ you ask innocently, though you aren’t sure if you want to hear his reply – that means if you even get one.

While the pad of his thumb brushes over the curve of your lips, his other hand slowly unlaces the front of his breeches, easing the confines of his half-hard member, and causing a wave of arousal to seep out of your cunt, anticipation making it clench around nothing.

“Oh, we have restored law and order,“ he purrs, the cocky smirk on his lips indicating that he’s more than satisfied with the outcome of it all. “The Kingsguard cleaned the streets from the city‘s scum.“

Listening intently, you just nod in acknowledgement, not at all surprised by your husband‘s actions. “And does the king know you did that?“

“I do not care if the king knows or not,“ he spits, impatiently tugging the front of his breeches down just enough to free his cock and stones. “He is blind, guided by the incompetent leech that claims to be his hand.“

A musky scent hits your nose when you catch sight of his thick cock. His musky scent, mixed with the salty smell of sweat. It has you licking your lips like a greedy whore, and if anything, you love it. It’s a sharp reminder that you have married a hardworking and ambitious man, and not a boy.

Your hand instinctively curls around his member, your index finger and thumb barely touching. His girth has always been something that impresses you. He’s considerable, leaving you wondering at times how it even fits into your mouth and cunt.

You slowly tug him to full hardness, stroking him the way you know he likes, even though your pace is a bit slower than usual. You listen to him rant about his brother, and the insolence of his hand, Otto Hightower, merely humming whenever your husband expects you to.

Once his cock stands to full attention, throbbing in your hand, you release it and instead fondle his stones, heavy and hot in your hand. The fleshy pouch they sit in is a bit darker than the rest of his pale skin and visibly sagged, but doesn’t hang too low.

Your actions earn a disapproving tsk from Daemon, despite the visible twitching of his cock at the new stimulation, and he wastes no time in fisting a good bit of your hair to shove your face towards his crotch. The scent is more prominent the closer you get, but not at all repulsing. Instead, it arouses you even more.

You’re not sure if it’s Daemon‘s usual lack of patience or his abnormal obsession with the king and his entourage that makes him greedy and needy for your touch, but you decide to not give in to him so easily.

Gently squeezing and fondling the sack of his stones, your tongue licks a flat stripe from the base of his member up to the bulbous tip of it. A salty taste lingers on your tongue, the few beads of his arousal quickly gathered and swallowed by you. You hum appreciatively at the taste, seemingly pleased to witness the affect your touch and presence has on your husband‘s body.

A sharp tug on your hair catches your attention and makes you yelp, your wide eyes finding your husband‘s demanding ones. “Quit playing games,“ he growls. A warning. But he should know by now that you are not one of his hounds, and what works with them doesn’t necessarily intimidate you.

Your tongue swirls around the tip of his cock, kitten-licking it until his heavy pants are replaced by annoyed huffs and grunts. Daemon doesn’t like you teasing him – not when he craves relief.

You keep your eyes neatly trained on him, studying his changing expressions to know whenever you’re playing with fire, and when it is best to follow his commands. Switching the positions of your mouth and hand, warmth brushes your face before the familiar musk seeps into your head.

Closing your eyes as all your senses are clouded by him, you latch on Daemon’s sac of stones, nuzzling your nose into the dark, coarse hair to take one of them in your mouth. Low purrs ripple from your throat, sending vibrations through his body.

You haven’t noticed, but your thighs clench and unclench repeatedly with each suck of your mouth, trying to soothe the aching settling at the apex of your legs. However, it doesn’t grant you the friction you crave.

“My, my, now look at that,“ Daemon coos. “Sucking my stones like a common whore. So desperate to have your mouth filled by me, hm?“

The condescending tone of his voice sends shivers up your spine, and you keen at the degrading nature of his words, moaning around his slightly slacked flesh.

Daemon is unable to tear his dark blown eyes from your full mouth struggling to take both of his stones. You’re trying so hard, but your mouth isn’t slack enough, causing you to nearly choke yourself trying to please him.

Droplets of your saliva dribble from the corners of your mouth down your chin, gathering in your jugular notch, and really making you look like you belong to the Street of Silk; a common whore desperate for her mouth to be stuffed by something, and not caring if it was filled by his stones or cock.

While you are messily suckling the sack of his stones, you tease a few licks up his length, tracing the prominent vein on the underside of it with the tip of your tongue.

You relish in the way he twitches and squirms under your touch, the deep grunts only spurring you on even more. But you also are soaked for him, core clenching and aching, begging to be used.

Daemon has started to tug himself off at the sight of your lips around his flesh, big hand the perfect size for his considerable length, while his other tightly fists into your hair to keep you where he wants you.

You hollow your cheeks around him, sucking with the tip of your tongue dragging over the sensitive skin. The familiar taste of manhood lingers on your tongue, and your jaw goes slack, finally managing to engulf his whole sac with your mouth. But when you try to pull away for a breath, Daemon only snorts and pulls you right back to his stones.

He harshly tugs on your hair, tilting your head back so you are forced to look at him when he slaps his hard cock against your face. Your saliva adds a sheen to his flushed skin, making him glisten in the dim light, and catches your attention, your eyes trailing over the length of his cock – you want nothing more than to feel those veins on your tongue.

As his cock repeatedly makes contact with your swollen lips and cheeks, the indecency of it all sends heat straight through your body, for it’s the first time he has ever done something like that.

Daemon bows forward, looming over your frame but coming close enough for you to feel his breath fanning over your face. Goosebumps prickle on your skin, and his intense lilac eyes send desire straight to your jumbled mind.

“What a wanton harlot you are,” his tongue darts out to wet his lips. “Whores of the Silk Street do such things.”

While his degrading words go straight to your head, making you eager for more, you still cower beneath his dominating presence. “Yn ao hae ziry,” you reply, cocking your head sideways in an innocent way. But you like it.

It seems that your feigned innocence doesn’t convince him, because you suddenly feel something warm and wet dripping down your cheeks; his saliva. He has spat on your cheek, spreading it over your heated skin with a satisfied smirk ghosting over his features. Daemon rarely enjoys having you talk back at him, to tease him, and right now clearly isn’t one of those moments.

At the realization of what he’s just done, you feel your voice tighten in your throat, your lips pressing into a thin line as embarrassment floods your veins.

“Gaoman, yn…,” he muses, bending back and tracing the tip of his length along the slit of your pouty lips. “...nyke hae ziry tolī skori gaomā daor ȳdragon rȳ mirre.” With these words leaving his lips, his cock hits your cheek once again, almost as if he’s making fun of you. I do, but I like it more when you do not speak at all.

The grip on your hair loosens only for him to cup your cheek, fingertips digging sharply into the flushed skin of your cheeks. His other hand repeatedly taps the tip of his cock against your swollen lips in a demanding manner, begging for entrance.

“Open your mouth, or else I am opening it for you.”

You wet your lips, just the mere thought of having him down your throat causes a sense of soreness to linger in the back of it, and Daemon seems to notice your apprehension.

“I see your mouth begging for my cock, you filthy slut. Don’t act like an insufficient brat for you have done this plenty of times before.” He is right, but that doesn’t mean you’ll ever get used to his sheer size. Your thoughts, however, are cut short because Daemon isn’t Daemon, if he doesn’t take matters into his own hands.

The tip of his cock prods against your lips, and with the grip on your face tightening, you are all but forced to part them for him. There’s only little to no time to adjust to his size granted to you, because he sheaths himself inside of you in one, swift thrust.

A few seconds pass in which neither of you moves. Your nose is nuzzled against his pubic bone, the tip of it brushing the wispy trail of his hair, and you try to stifle the urge to gag and choke around him, your hands getting ahead with clutching his muscular thighs to keep yourself grounded.

Every muscle of his body twitches with pleasure as he grows accustomed to the warmth and tightness of you, his head tipping back to release a bawdy groan.

And then his hips start to buck into your mouth, allowing a wave of fresh air to fill your lungs when he almost completely pulls out; only the tip remaining embraced between your lips. A firm hand locks behind your head to stop you from pulling back.

Daemon’s hips thrust into your mouth with reckless abandon like he belonged into it, the bulbous tip hitting the back of your throat but never giving you anything you can’t handle. He knows you can take it, and that you like it.

The lewd noises of his soaked cock easing in and out of your warm mouth fill the room, spurring him on even more. At this point, you are soaking wet for him, droplets of your arousal leaking onto the stone floor beneath your legs.

Your cheeks hollow around him as you choke and sputter around his length, spit dribbling down your chin and bosom. His stones tighten with his cock throbbing on your tongue, ready to spend himself down your throat at any given moment, your previous teasing clearly coming in handy.

There are tears brimming in your eyes, unhelpful when all you want is to look up at him, watch how he scrunches his brow and puckers his lips as he gazes at you in rapture.

“That’s it,” Daemon groans, the pace of his hips faltering as he chases his release. “Take it all.” And that is when you felt it.

His hot seed spills down your throat, coating your tongue. You gag slightly when his hips start to stutter, cock twitching and pulsing with the force of his peak. Droplets of his seed spill from the corners of your mouth, mixing with your saliva and dribbling down your chin while you struggle to swallow the rest.

Nonsense spews out of his mouth as his groans grow more wanton, no doubt losing awareness of his volume. You are destined to be the main topic of the court's whispers in the morrow, just like your mother and father have been before you.

His fingers comb through your hair slowly, stroking your head as if he’s thanking you for a job well done, while he rides out his peak with languid thrusts of his hips.

When he finally stops to regain his composure, chest rising and falling with each heavy breath he takes, he allows you to pull back from him, a string of your saliva connecting your swollen lips with the bulbous head of his cock, only breaking as you lick your lips to gather the remnants of his spent.

“Ñuha sȳz riña,” he rasps, pulling you up on your feet to capture your lips in a heated kiss. The taste of him on your tongue spreads over his tongue and causes him to groan. My good girl.

Like a man possessed, he flips you around and easily throws you onto your marital bed. When you land on your stomach with him following closely behind, mounting you and straddling your arse, you squeal and chuckle, ecstatic that it’s finally your turn.

“Tonight is the night I shall put a child into you. I want to see your body swell with my seed.”

Daemon Taglist: @barbiedragon @hypocritic-trash-baby @schniiipsel @avalyaaa @baizzhu @yn-jackson

[happilyhertale]

Take your Place – Daemon Targaryen x fem!wife!reader

Summary: Your husband was away for months, leading the battle against the Triarchy and ultimately bringing victory. Now he is back and a ball is being held in celebration. Throughout the evening, you have spoken with many lords and ladies – but you have not seen the person you long for. So you go in search of him.

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!wife!reader

Warnings: Smut; 18+; NSFW; Sex (p in v)

Author’s note: English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Word count: 1.8 k

Other stories of mine

12 Days of Smuffmas

12 Days of Smuff

The hall is filled with music and laughter. Lords and ladies are sitting at the various tables, engrossed in conversation. The wine tastes good and has already caused a few men to slip off their chairs tonight. And this exuberant mood is appropriate, because the Triarchy has finally been repelled in the Stepstones and your husband is being celebrated for it.

You walk through the rows of tables, looking for your husband. You know that he is most likely sitting somewhere with his men and has already had way too much to drink. But although you would normally be able to spot his silver hair anywhere, you can't see him.

But then something grabs your hand and pulls you down roughly. You cry out a little and are about to answer this impertinence with a slap in the face. But you look up as you land on a lap, fingers on your face, caressing you, while a drunken smile reflects back at you.

“Daemon!” you say, but you can't stop the smile that is already spreading across your face. You slowly try to get up again, but Daemon has other plans. His arms wrap around you and he presses his face into the crook of your neck while pressing your back against his chest.

“Stay.” is the only thing he slurs, and you notice the wine on his breath, which he has been consuming all evening.

You just smile slightly, but nod barely noticeable, as you stay on his lap. Your eyes wander around and you were right, his men have spent the evening with him. Some are already hanging drunk in the chairs and a few others are still trying to talk, but you only perceive a kind of grunt.

Daemon kisses your neck, his fingers press lightly into your thighs as he whispers in a low voice, “What are we going to do after this ball?”

You glance slightly over your shoulder and your eyes meet. His gaze is almost soft and you have to smile, “well... I'm going to go to sleep after this ball... you'll probably throw up...” you say to him, trying to suppress a smile.

Daemon chuckles and then laughs a little – he can't deny how many times he's thrown up in a bowl while you've been in bed.

“You know damn well that's not what I meant,” he mutters into your neck as his laughter subsides.

Now you have to giggle a little, “No?” you ask playfully, “I don't know what you mean...”

Daemon leans in and kisses your neck again, breathing into your ear, “I mean that I'd like to spend some time alone with you, love.”

Your eyes are locked on him and you see the determination in his gaze.

“Are you sure you're capable of having a night of pleasure... you're very drunk ...” you say softly.

Daemon grins drunkenly and caresses your cheek. He leans forward and whispers seductively in your ear.

“I'm not too drunk to make you moan, love.”

Your cheeks flush and your eyes widen.

“Daemon!” you say, and even some of his men grin at you, seeming to know what he's saying to make you blush.

Daemon grins at you and his fingers press into your thighs again as he leans forward to whisper in your ear again.

“I'm not too drunk to make you scream for me, love.”

The blush is now creeping down your cleavage. You bite your lip lightly.

“Stop it, Daemon...” you whisper, but you try to squeeze your thighs together a little as you notice the pulsing between your thighs.

Daemon chuckles at your reaction and squeezes your thighs even tighter. He continues to whisper seductively in your ear, “Then stop me, love. Come on.”

You can't stop yourself and you move your hips slightly to create some friction. But then Daemon grabs you and lifts you slightly to turn you on his lap. Confusion graces your features until you straddle him. “We're not supposed to be doing this here,” you say quietly, but he just grins.

“What? You're my wife and you're happy that I'm back... and you show me that by sitting on my lap,” he says, his words slightly slurred. You just shake your head slightly, but before you can say anything, Daemon presses his lips against yours. You gasp slightly, but you respond to his kiss. He grins when he feels your hips moving again, grinding against him slightly. He caresses your cheek and pulls you closer to him, his tongue meeting yours and your kiss intensifying. You feel him getting hard and you let out a small moan, but not loud enough for anyone else to hear. Daemon smiles a little as he feels that you cannot stop moving, that you keep grinding against him. He pulls your hips closer to him as he speaks, letting his fingers glide along your thighs. His lips gently slide down your neck and whispers seductively, “I'd like to see your dress on the floor.” Your eyes flutter closed and his words elicit a slight moan from your lips. But you bite your lip to make no further sound.

“The skirt of my dress is very wide...” you finally whisper softly, breathing heavily. “Maybe you could unbutton your trousers and... I mean, I could sit on you and no one would notice...“ you say quietly.

“But you're already sitting on me...” he mumbles teasingly and gets an annoyed look from you. Daemon glances over at his men and tries not to grin. None of them are looking in your direction, they seem to be engaged in conversation or have their heads on the table, snoring.

“But maybe.. it could work,” he mutters finally. Daemon slides his hand under your skirt, begins to unbutton his trousers, and glances at you from time to time. You look at him, everything except for your upper bodies is hidden under the skirt of your dress. Daemon lets his hands move back to your hips and you move slightly again. Then you have to suppress a moan as you feel his hard cock, how its length presses against your folds. His hands slide to your hips, gripping you, as he presses his the tip of your cock against your entrance.

You look at him, gasp slightly and then lean forward to kiss him as you feel your cunt clench around nothing from the mere anticipation of getting to sheath him. Slowly you lift up and then slowly lower yourself onto his hard cock.

You let yourself sink all the way down, your breath catching. You don't move so that no one can see what you are doing, but you're breathing out heavily.

Daemon suppresses a groan as he feels you move. He leans back further in his chair, eyes closed and head tilted back slightly. His smile widens a little, you feel his cock twitch slightly inside you. “You're so filthy, love,” he murmurs. You bite your lip, moving your hips slightly. “Gods... Daemon...,” you whisper. You close your eyes as he fills you completely. Daemon's moans are becoming harder and harder to suppress. He looks around to make sure his men are not watching. He leans forward to speak seductively in your ear, “Good girl. You feel so good,“ and makes you whimper. “I've missed your big cock...“ you suddenly let slip, making Daemon chuckle briefly, but it ends in a groan as he feels you moving up and down slowly.

“Gods... You feel so good, my love.” He closes his eyes and clenches his teeth as he leans back in his chair and his hands return to your thighs. His hand finds its way under your skirt, his fingertips leaving a fiery trail on your skin.

His thumb glides through your folds until he finds your clit and begins to rub it, making you whimper again “Daemon... I... I...” you stutter as your hips move a little faster. You slide up and down along his length, breathing heavily, your hand sliding to the back of his neck, gripping him, and he growls. Daemon leans forward again, biting your earlobe, “Good girl. That's a good girl.” He leans his head back again, trying to suppress a groan. His gaze returns to you, and he feels your cunt flutter around his cock as you slam your hips down on him. His thumb rubs faster as he kisses you again.

“Come on... Show me how much you've missed this... Riding me... My cock deep inside your tight cunt,” he growls against your lips. And then you moan into his mouth. Your pussy clutches his thick cock. “Gods...” you whimper as your orgasm floods your body. Your cunt milks his cock as you slide up and down. He grunts as he feels his balls tighten. “Daemon...” you whimper, your hand on his neck slides into his hair, grabs lightly while you cum all over his cock. Daemon bites the inside of his lip to suppress a groan. His eyes are closed and his expression is full of lust; he is visibly enjoying it. You moan into his mouth as your orgasm subsides. You are breathing heavily, your eyes are closed. Slowly you open them again, you feel his hips moving slightly again. “Did you come?“ you ask in a whisper. Daemon sighs contentedly and looks down at you. He glances around to make sure that no one is around. ”Not yet, my love,” he speaks softly and caresses your face. “And you will help me finish it,” he grunts. You nod and lean forward again to kiss him. Your hips move slightly faster. “Come for me, my dragon,“ you whisper against his lips. Daemon is breathing heavily and his eyes are closed. He moans softly, your words making his cock twitch. He grabs your waist. "I'm close, love. I'm close.” “Fill me, my dragon...” you whisper against his lips. While you press your hips firmly against him. His cock is deep inside your tight heat as you gyrate your hips. Your hips move faster as you gently bite his lip.

And then he moans, his hips thrusting up and making you squeak slightly. He growls as he pumps his cum into you. You kiss him again and let your hips slow down. You slide up and down more slowly, milking the last drop out of him, to ride out his orgasm. His eyes are closed as he breathes heavily, clenching his teeth. “Love,” he growls.

Daemon leans forward and presses his forehead against yours. He tries to speak but nothing but breathless groans come out, although he tries to hide it. His breathing is slow and shallow as he holds you. “Gods, Love, gods.” he gasps quietly. You giggle slightly and gently kiss his cheek.

“Shall we retire to our chambers?” you whisper, and he just nods. His hands slide back under your skirt, fully covering himself again, and then he helps you up from his lap.

[bigolidioot]

Something about Bix and Cassian's kid growing up in a world without a deathstar. Something about their son only knowing what few memories his mom can tell before needing to be excused. Something about him growing angry at Cassian for leaving them. Something about him letting his anger slip. Something about Bix sternly sitting their son at the table and finally sharing what happened. What Cassian did, what she did. Something about Bix squeezing their son's hands as she firmly speaks through the tears in her throat. “He would have chased us to the corners of the universe to be together. If you're angry, be angry at me. I never gave him the choice to choose you.” Something about their kid being quiet, about him unable to look at his mother as he speaks “Why did it have to be him? Why did it have to be my dad?” Something about them holding each other, both acutely aware of the space Cassian should be. “I have asked myself that everyday”