#she’s a delulu girly ally

[pollenallergie]

she’s everything to me like hello???

[sanaxo-o]

your moots as tbz members? :DD

OH FINALLY GOT THIS AHWJWHEHDH

Now I am only tagging the moots with whom I interact on a daily basis. Even if I did not include you plz don’t mind me 😭 it must have just slipped my mind because of the exams. But I love every single moot of mine.

Nara @o-onikix : Kevin

Hear me out, she is the literal definition of Kevin, the way this girl always spams me with the most random things on insta 😭. And she like listens to more western artists then me so that’s a plus on top of that her sense of humour makes me want to punch her sometimes (lovingly). Just like Kevin she is always screaming man 😭.

Ally @winterchimez : Sangyeon

Let’s be for real, if I don’t give Als Sangyeon then idk who else would it be (maybe Jacob? Kind of. She is very caring and calm when on call 💀😭) but then whenever we both talk it’s like chaos is always with us. Like my Sabrina girlie <3 I can always count on ally tbh, like I always see myself talking with her about my exams and shit and she is always there to comfort and support me 😞.

Izzy @from-izzy : Sunwoo

I know I once said it was Kevin or Jacob but the more me and izzy talk the more o understand just how much of a danger she is to the society with her craziness…and the way she flirts with me all the damn time?? Like damn girl..(she outdid me in that and I am scared) but then again izz is also like so sweet like Sunwoo (and delulu like him but let’s keep that topic for later). We both can go from talking about something random to something serious or calm in a snap of a finger.

Clo @cloverdaisies : Changmin

This girl, do you see her?? She is batshit crazy. Like the way she says the most unhinged things out of nowhere always gets me and I always see myself laughing whenever with clo. Like not even kidding man and then when we have those deep conversations I always see myself so invested and I just feel like protecting clo and just hugging her 😞. (And me and ally coming at your place to tuck you in bed and to take care of you ‼️)

Bar @sohnric : Eric

No please, if I don’t give bar Eric it’d be like a huge ass crime let’s be for real. Like the amount of energy this girl has all the damn time??? She would be running around the house at 2 am and I won’t even be surprised because that’s normal…but then again when me and bar are together it’s absolute chaos and madness (I am still gonna drive the car)

Gill @astrae4 : Chanhee

Ahh my fellow Chanhee girlie <3. I stand by what I said, Chanhee girlies are so pretty and gill is the definition of pretty. She is also so sweet all the damn time, and I just feel like saving her from all the chaos which goes on in the gc :)

Maya @kimsohn : Haknyeon

Ohh my fellow desi girl <3 this might seem very different but yes. I don’t even remember how we both started talking tbh. We just clicked so well when together 😭. And yk how you feel when you see Hak on the screen? All smiley smiles, that’s how I feel when me and Maya talk hehe. Like I love Maya so much yall 😞‼️

Fawn @juyeonszn : Juyeon

Man do I love her?? Yes I do. Do I simp over the way I simp over Juyeon? Yes I do. Do I love both of them loads? Yes I do. Sometimes fawn is so crazy (most of the times) but then we can have such calm conversations outta nowhere…it’s scary tbh.

Dora @littleroaes : Jacob

You guys don’t get it. Dora is literally so cute 😭. Like the way whenever I interact with her I always find her so cute. And the way I adore Jacob so much as an individual but also as a TBZ member is the way I adore Dora <3 and she is also so hardworking 😞‼️. Like the amount of efforts she put into her fics 😭. She deserves everything man

Special note: me, Sana, am announcing that I would be the one to drive the car when we meet 😼

[caitlynmeow]

i can’t remember if you’ve said anything about this yet but i’m picturing ur cass going into labour and. how is girl surviving this once let alone THREE times when she reacted to PUBERTY like THAT 😭 just from the sheer panic alone

omg anon i haven't talked about this but it's Cassandra okay girlies is a MESS during all three times 😭😭😭

From way before giving birth, like soon after Alcina knew that Cass was pregnant she had a private meeting with wife and was very clear about making sure Cassandra goes for an epidural and there shouldn't be any of the no drugs option. Wife looked at Alcina and said seriously "What makes you believe your daughter is going to brave this one out?" Because she's known Cass for a few years and can tell that this will never be something to think about. Alcina has no reason to assume that Cassandra is going to do this because she's the kind of person who would cry over a paper cut. So giving birth without medication is not on the table.

And yes, wife is there to keep things under control to the best of her ability. Because as dramatic and out of control Cassandra can be, her wife can maintain calm and be the voice of reason during many situations. She’s not complaining at all, the dramatics are part of Cassandra’s charm that she fell for and she won’t have her any other way. As long as she knows Cass is okay and not in any real pain, she can take whatever comes her way.

Cassandra on her end was doing just okay until about 25 weeks into her pregnancy, then it downed on her and she started to actually panic every time she thought about it. She’d constantly tell herself: “People give birth every day, literally I WAS BORN!” And still get a tight chest because of all the anxiety.

She also was convinced that she was going to die, so it felt more like a countdown to that instead of having her baby because is she going to survive a human coming out of her? Not likely. She was ready with a speech to her wife, mom, and sisters.

When she was at the hospital, Cassandra was in full panic mode because she simply wasn't ready. But since it's time to give birth, the matter is out of her hands but she isn't known for giving up quickly. She was in no pain, physically. Her wife did ask her if she was in any physical pain, to rate it from 0 to 10 which Cass answered truthfully and said that it was at a zero. "Emotional pain?" Wife knows she needs to check on that because this is what's making Cass so anxious and distressed. "200" Cassandra answered as she burst into tears.

That wasn't the end of it. Since she couldn't feel anything, Cassandra's brain convinced her that she could keep this up for probably another day or two. And since she is absolutely not ready to give birth just yet, she decided that wants to leave and come back the next day when she's better prepared. But of course, there is no way she can leave while in active labor and contractions being so close to one another. But then again, she was feeling very panicky and overwhelmed and she wanted her mother because she wasn't going to do this and no one could make her do it.

There is no way wife is going to leave Cassandra's side and go get Alcina, so a nurse has to be sent out for the task. When Alcina saw the nurse approaching, she panicked thinking that something bad had happened. But the nurse told her that everything was okay but her daughter needed her.

When Alcina got into the delivery room, Cassandra thought she finally had an ally and that her mother was surely going to stop this madness and make her go home (she's persistent like that and also very delulu) but Alcina wasn't on her side, and told her that it's too late for that now. She will go home in two days anyway.

"I can't do this! I don't know how," Cassandra confessed, she was openly crying by that point and it broke Alcina's heart to see her like this. She always hated seeing her daughters in pain, and she knows that Cassandra is not in any pain but she is scared and getting very emotional because of it. Alcina hoped for a way to help ease her daughter's distress, but unfortunately, this was one of those things that her daughter had to do alone. "You don't need to do anything, draga. Your body knows what to do, and it's already pushing your baby out on its own," Because at that point, the baby's head was already out and this entire thing will be over very soon.

Sure enough, a few minutes later the room was filled with the baby's cries. And just like that, it was over.

Alcina did get to see her granddaughter as soon as she was born because she was right there providing all kinds of support to her daughter who was finally registering what had happened. Though she was pouting and tearful still, she did complain that no one listened to her, especially her mom and wife because they were supposed to be on her side. But she was soon distracted by her baby and forgot all about labor a few hours later.

Even Miranda wasn't mad that they only called her after Aurelia was born because she knew that Alcina was definitely going to be busy with Cassandra. Miranda called it first and suggested they have an OR on standby just in case this one granddaughter refused to give birth for whatever reason.

Donna was also frantic, knowing how near impossible it was and for once she sided with her mother. But Donna was in favor of them forgoing the whole delivery and going straight to c-section because 'there is no reason to torture the little doe,' as she put it.

It took a lot of coaxing, a very long process, and lots of tears (for no reason, really) but Cassandra did it eventually (with the support of both her mother and her wife and a very patient medical team).

[just-some-random-blogger]

HHAHAAHHAHHAHAHHHAHAHHAH edit: i reacted to too many scenes this got so long im so 😶 EDIT EDIT: ITS SO LONG IM KIND OF SORRY EDIT EDIT EDIT IM NOT SORRY BECAUSE YOU BETRAYED ME

Daemon’s eyes widen slightly. He finds the setting oddly feminine. Had the old fool gotten him confused with Laenor? Fuck, this is going to be awful.

im laughing cos it took me so long to get what this meant. i was like ????? wait laenor was there and daemon thought that was the dude's wife??? a whole man????? his wife??? but then i realized it probably meant that the setting was so girly that daemon was like 'bro im not gay bro 😡😡😡' WHICH IS HONESTLY SO L OF HIM TALK ABOUT FRAGILE MASCULINITY COME ON DAEMON I THOUGHT YOU WERE BETTER THAN THAT

Shortly after he had left Melessa in the gardens earlier that morning, he had sent word requesting to speak with her father. He’d been surprised to receive an invitation to the solar less than an hour later. Now he sits opposite the portly Lord of Highgarden, not bothering to mask his disgust at the unsightly residue left behind in his moustache as he takes a large bite from a Tyroshi honey finger.

OH he's actually lord highgarden HAHAHHAA i thought when daemon was like my highgarden rose he was being mega poetic HAHAHAHH but i mean still pretty poetic. like 5pts ig. ALSO THE MUSTACH SLANDER yuCKY MUSTACHE GO BOOM

“It can and it will.” Daemon leans forward, his hand curling around his wine cup. All trace of humour leaves his face. “When my brother dies, my niece will become Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. She will make me her Hand. That is a powerful ally for Highgarden to have, I think you’ll agree.”

🙄🙄🙄😒😒😒😒🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨 will you tho? [side eye]

The older man fidgets in his seat. The irritating nervous throat clearing has returned, although he is no longer eating any of the food upon the table. Daemon thinks it would be agreeable for him to be kept in a perpetual state of fear, a means to stop his overeating. He chuckles drily to himself, not caring to share the joke. 

😭😭😭😭💀💀💀💀 HES SO FOUL BRUHHH LET HIM EAT SHUT THE FUCK UP ITS A COPING METHOD

Moryn sighs. “Lord Hightower is the King’s Hand. He says that His Highness is in no fit state to be making decisions regarding succession. Prince Aemond is a good match for Melessa - he is well-educated and he rides the largest dragon in all of Westeros.”

Daemon’s eyes narrow, his tone becoming icy. “That treasonous prick Otto will find himself fed to my dragon once Rhaenyra is crowned. As will you if you do not strongly reconsider.”

you mad cos he got you there esp with that dragon thing HAHHAAHAHAHAH

“The day after tomorrow is when the original betrothal announcement was to be made, yes? That is when we will have the wedding.”

girl what

Moryn bows his head, clearly beaten. “As you wish. Let us make the necessary arrangements.”

????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????? FOLDED SO FAST???????????? WHAT IN THE SPINELESS I HATE MEN MEN (EXTREMELY DEROGATOTY)

[...] He is so pleased by this that he is prepared to ignore the voice in the back of his head telling him that he is rushing this simply so he doesn’t have time to change his mind.

❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓ CHANGE WHO MIND? YOU MIND? OR YOUR NEW PRIZE'S PAPA? ME SO UNSURE

Daemon confines himself to his chambers for the rest of the day. Tempted as he is to seek out his new wife-to-be and share in their happy news, he knows that Moryn is likely having a conversation with Otto that he would do well to keep out of. Being seen with her would serve only to exacerbate tensions. He longs to put the King’s Hand in his place, but that is a side of him that Melessa has yet to see. He has no desire to frighten her away before they’ve even exchanged vows.

OK BUT HE'S SO FUSSED ABOUT OTTO HAHAHHAHA I WILL NEVER LET MY DELULU OTTO X DAEMON SIDE PLOT DIE HAHAHAHHA LOLOLOL HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

He cannot scare her off before they get to the wedding night. His thoughts drift to how it will finally feel to touch her as he longs to, to kiss her as he wants to, to fuck her as he pleases. The idea of being the first man to undress her, to be inside of her, to spill within her cunny… It’s enough to push him to the brink of spending in his breeches like a green boy. If nothing else, that alone makes all of this worth it. Political alliances be damned - he will pluck his rose so no one else may have her, defile those soft little petals so that they are only his.

Otto clenches his jaw, exhaling heavily through his nose. “You will live to regret your rashness.”

listen to your boo im suddenly shared for you anD IT RHYMES COS ITS REAL

With a withering sigh, Otto turns back towards the Red Keep. He halts after a few steps, calling back over his shoulder. “Marry her if you must. However, I’d suggest you seek out an alternative location - the Queen will not allow for your nuptials to take place in the capital.”

the sigh is giving 'but i loved you first' HASaslasfl 😢😢😢😢 extremely delusional? i think not

His strides are more purposeful, his face hardened by anger. He longs to go after Otto, to run him through with Dark Sister. In his youth, perhaps he would have. However, he is aware that there are larger things at stake than his wounded pride.

awww my evil meow meow has sense?

“If it is her that you truly want, Uncle, then return with her to Dragonstone and marry her there. It will take a day by boat for Melessa and her family. If they were to leave within the hour, then they’d make it in time for you to marry her tomorrow, just as you wanted.”

i cant believe you couldnt think of this shit by yourself daemon. im so fucking disappointed by your man-ness. honestly rhaenyra you were too good for him anyway look at him clinging onto you n your words of help cos he cant help himself. no fuck all of yall why cant rhaenyra be the uncontested heir? fuck all of yall

“Can I count on my niece’s presence?” he asks with a wry smile.

“On dragonback, Laenor, the children and I can be on Dragonstone in less than half a day,” she says softly. “I am reluctant to leave Father, but I suppose you will need someone there for your wedding.”

women 😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😣😣😣😣💗💗💗💗💗💗🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦

“Thank you, Rhaenyra. You have no idea what that means to me.”

you dont even know what that means to you dafaq

[...]Laenor’s seafaring history means he will be able to aid with securing a boat within the Blackwater Rush to provide safe passage. Finally, the pillow biter has a useful purpose.

sTOOOPPPPPP I WILL NOT STAND FOR LAENOR SLANDER

He explains to her the urgency of the situation and what needs to happen next. She listens wide-eyed with excitement and offers no protest, sweet little thing that she is. He leaves her with a soft kiss to her hairline and the promise that they will be reunited soon. For now, he must speak to her father.

GIRL I WONDER WHAT KIND OF PHEREMONES DAEMON EMMIT FOR HER TO BE SO SMITTEN WITH HIM SO QUICKLY I MEAN GIRLIE RECIEVED ONE FUCKING BOQUET OF FLOWERS AND WAS LIKE OK WE SHOULD GET MARRIED [SAD SOBBING] i mean i guess that makes perfect sense cos she felt like shit over aemond at at least daemon actually likes her also the time period BUT FUCCCKKKKKKKKKKK PRESS F TO PAY RESPECT FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF GIRLIE IMMA GETCHU OUT OF THERE HOLD ON [BUSTS INTO THE SCREEN AND PULLS HER AWAY]

Moryn will be harder to persuade. However, the greater problem, Daemon fears, will be getting the bulk of his weight from the Red Keep to the boat in time for when it departs.

Predictably, he is resistant at first - but when Daemon points out that the Tyrells have likely worn out their welcome in the capital, having broken off Melessa’s betrothal to Aemond, Moryn is much more agreeable.

again a spineless rat

The wind whips around him as Caraxes glides in to land on the jagged rocks that make up the island. Daemon is taken aback by how much colder it is here than back in the capital. He wonders how Melessa will fare living here. Highgarden and King’s Landing proffer much balmier climes - there is every chance his delicate rose will wilt in the winds that batter the jagged cliff faces here.

[EYE ROLL] IDK I CANT HELP BUT BE SO SARDONIC OVER HIM HELLO [BANGS ON HIS HEAD] YOU COULD KEEP HER WARM DAFAQ WERENT YOU ON ABOUT FUCKING HER N SHIT?????? YOURE SO FUCKING STUPID YOU CAN GIVE HER COATS??? MAKE HER A FIRE?????????? YOU INEPT INSECT FUCKING DIPSHIT MORON

His doubts begin to grow as he sets about making preparations for the wedding that is to take place tomorrow. It is too short notice for the castle’s kitchen to order in supplies for the feast - they will simply have to make do with what is already on hand, though with the meagre attendance that this celebration is to have that certainly won’t pose a problem. He cannot shake the feeling that he is not giving Melessa the wedding that she deserves, nor the husband.

yucky imposter boy syndrome whERES THE AUDACITY WHERES THE GRIT YOU THINK I FEEL SORRY FOR YOU YOU PATHETIC MONGREL

With the aid of his niece and her husband, the castle is bustling with activity as servants work to prepare the sleeping quarters for the arrival of the Tyrells, while the kitchen staff work in earnest to ensure enough food is cooked. He pushes his doubts away, allowing himself a moment of optimism. He will have his pretty bride, and she will have a Targaryen prince. There has never been a fairer exchange than this one.

OK good

[...] Lucky for her, she need never sail anywhere again after this, not now she is his.

WHIPLASH IS REAL COS IM REALLY GIDDY COS YEAH AS HE SHOULD MY MURDEROUS CUPCAKE WHY DIDNT SHE GO WITH HIM ON CARAXES ANYWAY 😖😖😖😖 HELL YEAH I SHOULD ALWAYS BE WITH MY DRAGON BOO PURR SLAY LOVE THAT FOR US HAHAHAHAHA

He gives her hands a soft squeeze, before ushering her forward. “Come, let us get you settled. The hours pass swiftly and there is much to do before we are husband and wife.”

NAHHHH REMEMBER WHEN I SAID SHE FOLDED SO QUICK HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH WHAT I MEANT TO SAY IS THAT SHE WAS SO VALID FOR THAT COS SAME WHEN HE SAID HUSBAND AND WIFE IDK MY SMILE AND MY HEART KINDA JUST LIKE OK DADDY YOU KNOW OK UNCLE DADDY KILLER EGOTISTICAL PSYCHO YASS AND SLAY

The turnout is poor. Servants outnumber actual wedding guests, though Rhaenyra, Laenor, Jacaerys, Lucerys and Joffrey stand to the right and Melessa’s parents to the left. Daemon is almost too ashamed to look at any of them. She absolutely deserves better than this, yet she is looking at him as though she has never been happier. [...]

OK FINE I GUESS I CAN KIND OF FOR A FRACTION FEEL FOR YOUR DAEMON JUST A BIT

[...] At least now she has something to keep her warm until he is able to heat her skin with his own later.

LIKE I WAS SAYING DAFAQ

“Husband,” she whispers up at him as they leave the Hall hand in hand. Her look of pure adoration is enough to make him feel as though his cock will slice clean through his breeches from the speed in which it rises to attention. “Wife,” he murmurs back, fingertips grazing her delicate jaw.

AskFJGHA:sFHAHSFLHHLHL;HhlhlHLGHL;AGBSDF;LKHGASFLHASFLAS HE LITERALLY RUINED THIS SCENE BY MAKING IT HORNY FUCK YOU

[...] Daemon sends a silent thanks to the gods that it’s her mother that Melessa takes after.

;ASHF;AHFHASFHHAHHAHAHH MUSTACHE BALD MELESSA AHAHHAHH

[...] A flash of her wet pink tongue has him stifling a groan. [...]

HES SO FUCKING HORNY I KNOW THE ENTIRE PLOT IS BASICALLY HIM BEING HORNY BUT COME ON PLEASE ok well ig thats on me what did i expect from him come one hannah [slaps self] man i hate the word h*rny

Unlike at the dining table, Melessa’s eyes seem to want to look anywhere but at him. The poor thing is nervous, he can see that from how she shakes.

yeah and she's so valid for that. if only she knew how vile his thoughts were shed jump off a cliff (and then i can promptly resume her dut-)

“Sweet flower. It is not what I am going to do to you; it is what we are going to do together. You will feel pleasure if you allow me to do as I please. Will you allow me?”

ok. bare minimum. asking for consent. making it enjoyable for her. slay but bare minimum slay but i kith daemon

“Good girl.”

[nervous chuckle] and so it begins

He kisses her then. It is not the chaste kiss shared at the altar. His mouth moves against hers, claiming her lips as his own and she lets him. She gasps as his tongue sweeps against her own and he tangles his fingers into her silky hair, holding her in place as he feels her body relax into his. Finally, she is succumbing.

YEAH I WOULD FOLD SO FAST TOO

[...] The open back leaves her creamy white flesh totally exposed and Daemon cannot stop himself from reaching out and trailing his fingertips down the curve of her spine. [...]

Daemon knows the moment his erection is free he will not be able to resist the urge to bury it inside of her, to make her irrevocably his. It is better to keep the barrier between them, to allow her what she needs to be ready for him. It is going to hurt her, there is no escaping that, but he will do all he can to ensure it doesn’t hurt as much as it could.

He laughs softly. “You aren’t going to piss yourself. You’re going to come, and you’ll like how it feels.”

HELP ME OASDLHFASH HAHAHAHA

“It won’t at first,” he admits. “But I’ll make it fit.”

“I love you.” His eyes snap to hers. She means it. Shit. What the fuck has he just done?

EX-FUCKING-CUSE ME

HELLO

DAFAQ DID YOU JUST SAY

Perzys se Rūkla (Fire and Flowers) - Chapter Three

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x original female character (Melessa Tyrell) Warnings: Smut, loss of virginity. Word count: ~6.1k

Chapter summary: Daemon leaves King's Landing as quickly as he has arrived. A wedding takes place. Series summary here.

Endless thanks and all the love to my absolute ride or die @em-writes-stuff-sometimes for cheerleading, beta'ing and just generally being the bestest fandom boo a gal could have.

Daemon surveys the spread of tarts, lemon cakes and tea with a sneer.

“I hadn’t realised your wife would be joining us,” Daemon says stiffly, seating himself across from Moryn in the solar.

“She won’t be, Your Grace,” Moryn replies, his eyebrows pinching together in confusion.

Daemon’s eyes widen slightly. He finds the setting oddly feminine. Had the old fool gotten him confused with Laenor? Fuck, this is going to be awful.

“Just call me Daemon. I’m not as jumped up my own arse as the rest of my family.”

The older man shifts uncomfortably in his seat and clears his throat, obviously not used to such vulgarity.

“Tea?” Moryn offers, the serving girl rounding the table to fill his cup in complement to his words.

“No.” Daemon snatches up the jug of wine from the middle of the table, pouring himself a cup.

Shortly after he had left Melessa in the gardens earlier that morning, he had sent word requesting to speak with her father. He’d been surprised to receive an invitation to the solar less than an hour later. Now he sits opposite the portly Lord of Highgarden, not bothering to mask his disgust at the unsightly residue left behind in his moustache as he takes a large bite from a Tyroshi honey finger.

“So,” Moryn begins around a mouthful of pastry, raising his teacup to his lips. “What was it you wanted to see me about?”

Daemon fixes Moryn with a steady gaze. “Your daughter. I’m going to marry her.”

Moryn splutters around his tea, sending the cup clattering back into its saucer. “Melessa?” The colour in his cheeks has blanched.

“Unless you’ve another stashed away somewhere?” Daemon reclines back in his chair with a smirk.

“She is betrothed to your nephew! That cannot simply be undone.”

“It can and it will.” Daemon leans forward, his hand curling around his wine cup. All trace of humour leaves his face. “When my brother dies, my niece will become Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. She will make me her Hand. That is a powerful ally for Highgarden to have, I think you’ll agree.”

“But Prince Aegon is-”

“A drunken, useless cunt,” Daemon spits, cutting Moryn off. “My brother named Rhaenyra as his heir. That has not changed.”

The older man fidgets in his seat. The irritating nervous throat clearing has returned, although he is no longer eating any of the food upon the table. Daemon thinks it would be agreeable for him to be kept in a perpetual state of fear, a means to stop his overeating. He chuckles drily to himself, not caring to share the joke. 

Moryn sighs. “Lord Hightower is the King’s Hand. He says that His Highness is in no fit state to be making decisions regarding succession. Prince Aemond is a good match for Melessa - he is well-educated and he rides the largest dragon in all of Westeros.”

Daemon’s eyes narrow, his tone becoming icy. “That treasonous prick Otto will find himself fed to my dragon once Rhaenyra is crowned. As will you if you do not strongly reconsider.”

Blinking rapidly, Moryn appears to concede. “What would you have me do?”

“The day after tomorrow is when the original betrothal announcement was to be made, yes? That is when we will have the wedding.”

The elderly man balks at the suggestion, his mouth hanging agape for a moment before he speaks. “That is too soon! Aemond and Melessa were to have a year-long courtship.”

“A year-long courtship that your daughter does not want,” Daemon states bluntly. “She has expressed a desire to marry me. I see no reason to wait.”

Moryn bows his head, clearly beaten. “As you wish. Let us make the necessary arrangements.”

As Daemon strides from the solar, a smug sense of satisfaction emanates from every pore of his body. For once, he has been granted something he wants. He is so pleased by this that he is prepared to ignore the voice in the back of his head telling him that he is rushing this simply so he doesn’t have time to change his mind.

Daemon confines himself to his chambers for the rest of the day. Tempted as he is to seek out his new wife-to-be and share in their happy news, he knows that Moryn is likely having a conversation with Otto that he would do well to keep out of. Being seen with her would serve only to exacerbate tensions. He longs to put the King’s Hand in his place, but that is a side of him that Melessa has yet to see. He has no desire to frighten her away before they’ve even exchanged vows.

He cannot scare her off before they get to the wedding night. His thoughts drift to how it will finally feel to touch her as he longs to, to kiss her as he wants to, to fuck her as he pleases. The idea of being the first man to undress her, to be inside of her, to spill within her cunny… It’s enough to push him to the brink of spending in his breeches like a green boy. If nothing else, that alone makes all of this worth it. Political alliances be damned - he will pluck his rose so no one else may have her, defile those soft little petals so that they are only his.

He finds himself fisting his cock to the thought of her once again. Gods, this is becoming pathetic. At least there is comfort to be found in the fact that he will not have long to wait until she becomes the vessel for his carnal appetite. 

Just as Daemon suspected, he does not have long to wait to lock horns with the King's Hand. Otto seeks out Daemon the next day as he is preparing to head to the gardens, hoping for a chance to see Melessa again. He has thought of nothing but her since parting ways with her oaf of a father yesterday.

“Are you really so pig-headed that you’d break off your own nephew’s betrothal to sate your lust?” Otto demands, not bothering with pleasantries. Daemon grins at the informality of it.

“Good morning to you, too,” Daemon states with airy indifference.

“This is treason, Daemon! I will not allow it!” Otto retorts coolly, though the anger that bubbles beneath the surface is more than apparent.

“You think that because my brother lays rotting at your mercy that you have the right to decide anything? Your plans to get Highgarden on side are as flimsy and obvious as your attempts to usurp Rhaenyra’s claim to the throne. You will do well to remember who will be named Hand once Viserys passes.”

“Viserys is in no fit state-”

“You will not speak of my brother to me,” Daemon interrupts with enormous irritation. “You have not earned the right. Lord Tyrell has agreed to wed his daughter to me. You will find another match for Aemond easily enough. I’m sure you must be positively overwhelmed by the number of high born ladies all desperate to marry a one-eyed prince.”

Otto clenches his jaw, exhaling heavily through his nose. “You will live to regret your rashness.”

“And you will live to regret your insolence, unless you walk away. Now,” Daemon says darkly, his hand coming to rest upon the pommel of Dark Sister.

With a withering sigh, Otto turns back towards the Red Keep. He halts after a few steps, calling back over his shoulder. “Marry her if you must. However, I’d suggest you seek out an alternative location - the Queen will not allow for your nuptials to take place in the capital.”

You mean you will not allow it, you cunt. Daemon glares at Otto’s retreating form before continuing on towards the gardens. 

His strides are more purposeful, his face hardened by anger. He longs to go after Otto, to run him through with Dark Sister. In his youth, perhaps he would have. However, he is aware that there are larger things at stake than his wounded pride.

He feels his heart rate slow and his mood grow lighter as he thinks of Melessa’s clear blue eyes, the scent of almond oil and rosewater, the grin that is just for him. He knows that seeing her will calm him, so he is at first disappointed when he arrives at the gardens to find her usual bench unoccupied. This quickly escalates to anger.

Emitting a growl of frustration, he settles himself upon the bench, bowing his head and rubbing his temples. It is his first time at ‘home’ in fifteen years and the last few days have been more stressful than all of his time away combined. He is sick of needless politicking, tired of family quarrels, disgusted by the Hightower influence that now permeates every crevice of the Red Keep.

He has made a promise to marry Melessa tomorrow and now faces the humiliation of having to disappoint her. Perhaps it is for the best. She is too delicate for the likes of him. Dragons trample flowers underfoot - they do not nurture them.

“I believe congratulations are in order, Uncle.”

Daemon lifts his gaze to the welcome sight of Rhaenyra, his shoulders relaxing as she approaches and seats herself next to him.

“Not if your father’s Hand has anything to do with it,” Daemon mutters, looking out across the gardens.

Rhaenyra shoots him an amused sideways glance. “You couldn’t possibly expect to take Aemond’s betrothed for yourself and marry her here in the city?”

Daemon says nothing. Truthfully, he hadn’t given much thought to anything beyond having Melessa to himself, and the more he considers his oversight of the finer details the more embarrassed he feels. It is not a feeling that sits right with him.

She scoffs. “That is so typical of you: storming in, causing a scene and not thinking about how it affects anyone besides yourself.”

“I get the distinct impression you’re no longer talking about just Melessa.” He raises his eyebrows, turning to her.

Hurt flashes across Rhaenyra’s face, her voice rising an octave. “Why her?”

“You mean why not you?”

“Does it matter?”

“Rhaenyra, you were a child,” Daemon says gently. “I spared you.”

She laughs bitterly. “Yes, because the life I’ve led since you left has been just wonderful.”

“And you think mine is any better?”

“I know little of it!”

Daemon takes Rhaenyra’s hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You have three wonderful sons. Does their father not make you happy?”

The implication goes unspoken, though it is clear he is referring to Harwin Strong and not Laenor Velaryon.

“He does,” she admits with a soft smile.

“Then don’t begrudge me for wanting what you have.”

Rhaenyra sighs, regarding Daemon carefully before she speaks.

“If it is her that you truly want, Uncle, then return with her to Dragonstone and marry her there. It will take a day by boat for Melessa and her family. If they were to leave within the hour, then they’d make it in time for you to marry her tomorrow, just as you wanted.”

Daemon considers this for a moment, his eyes lighting up. This is perfect. A final ‘fuck you’ to that Hightower imbecile, his whore of a daughter and her idiotic children.

“Can I count on my niece’s presence?” he asks with a wry smile.

“On dragonback, Laenor, the children and I can be on Dragonstone in less than half a day,” she says softly. “I am reluctant to leave Father, but I suppose you will need someone there for your wedding.”

“Thank you, Rhaenyra. You have no idea what that means to me.��

They remain seated together, hand in hand, for a few moments longer. Daemon has never felt more grateful for his niece than he does at this moment. As much as he hates to admit it, this is not the first time she has saved him from his own folly. It is unlikely it will be the last.

Rhaenyra and Daemon part ways in the garden. Rhaenyra in agreement that she will ready Laenor and her boys to set off for Dragonstone and aid in wedding preparations. Daemon needs to ensure that Melessa and the rest of the Tyrells currently residing within the Red Keep are ready to leave by boat within the hour. Laenor’s seafaring history means he will be able to aid with securing a boat within the Blackwater Rush to provide safe passage. Finally, the pillow biter has a useful purpose.

Daemon knocks at Melessa’s chamber door. It is answered by a flustered handmaiden, and the room is abuzz with activity. Melessa stands in the middle of the room atop a small stool, a gaggle of women crowd around her pinning, sewing and layering white lace fabric.

“You aren’t supposed to be here!” the handmaiden says exasperatedly. Not quite the welcome he’d hoped for, but he has more pressing matters to attend to than this lowly woman’s over-inflated sense of self worth.

“I need to speak with my betrothed,” he says simply.

At the sound of his voice, Melessa turns her head, earning a tut from a fraught looking older woman attempting to pin together a shoulder of the gown.

“Daemon!” she gasps. “You mustn’t see me before I’m ready!”

His eyes travel appreciatively over the cut of the half-finished gown. It is form-fitting and backless, typical of the style in Highgarden, and far more revealing than the modest and rather frumpy dress sense of the ladies of the capital. His excitement at seeing the finished result is almost as great as his excitement to see her out of it entirely. Almost.

“Forgive me, petal,” he says apologetically, though not actually sorry at all. “There has been a change in plans.”

He explains to her the urgency of the situation and what needs to happen next. She listens wide-eyed with excitement and offers no protest, sweet little thing that she is. He leaves her with a soft kiss to her hairline and the promise that they will be reunited soon. For now, he must speak to her father.

Moryn will be harder to persuade. However, the greater problem, Daemon fears, will be getting the bulk of his weight from the Red Keep to the boat in time for when it departs.

Predictably, he is resistant at first - but when Daemon points out that the Tyrells have likely worn out their welcome in the capital, having broken off Melessa’s betrothal to Aemond, Moryn is much more agreeable.

Having made the final preparations, Daemon finds himself readying to leave King’s Landing once more. It has only been a few days, yet he feels he has had more than his fill of this wretched place. He mounts the great, red beast that is Caraxes, preparing for the half-day’s flight back to the place that actually feels like home: Dragonstone.

The wind whips around him as Caraxes glides in to land on the jagged rocks that make up the island. Daemon is taken aback by how much colder it is here than back in the capital. He wonders how Melessa will fare living here. Highgarden and King’s Landing proffer much balmier climes - there is every chance his delicate rose will wilt in the winds that batter the jagged cliff faces here.

His doubts begin to grow as he sets about making preparations for the wedding that is to take place tomorrow. It is too short notice for the castle’s kitchen to order in supplies for the feast - they will simply have to make do with what is already on hand, though with the meagre attendance that this celebration is to have that certainly won’t pose a problem. He cannot shake the feeling that he is not giving Melessa the wedding that she deserves, nor the husband.

Daemon’s mind settles with the arrival of Rhaenyra and Laenor along with their children and respective dragons. Harwin, not being a dragonrider, is notably absent. It is odd, though not unpleasant, for Dragonstone to suddenly have so much noise and life within it.

With the aid of his niece and her husband, the castle is bustling with activity as servants work to prepare the sleeping quarters for the arrival of the Tyrells, while the kitchen staff work in earnest to ensure enough food is cooked. He pushes his doubts away, allowing himself a moment of optimism. He will have his pretty bride, and she will have a Targaryen prince. There has never been a fairer exchange than this one.

Melessa, along with her father and mother, arrive by boat the following morning. She looks sea-sick. It strikes Daemon that this was potentially her first time ever travelling on a boat, and for her maiden voyage she’d sailed non-stop through the night. The poor thing must feel wretched. Lucky for her, she need never sail anywhere again after this, not now she is his.

He looks softly down upon her, taking her hands into his as she disembarks. Her queasy expression is enough to make him laugh, but he bites it back for her sake.

“I trust you had a safe journey, petal?” he asks, ignoring the admonishing look from Moryn at his choice of pet name for his daughter.

“Mm...yes,” Melessa responds, her voice weak.

He gives her hands a soft squeeze, before ushering her forward. “Come, let us get you settled. The hours pass swiftly and there is much to do before we are husband and wife.”

Daemon does not see Melessa again for the rest of the day. She is swept off towards her chambers to be readied for the ceremony, while he returns to his to do the same.

It strikes him as he looks upon the bed that in a few short hours will have Melessa atop it. The thought excites him. It has been a long time since he has indulged in untouched flesh. He can almost picture the pained expression on her sweet little face the first time he pushes inside. The hours may pass swiftly, but not fucking swiftly enough.

It is early evening as Daemon and Melessa stand in front of the Septon in the Hall of Dragonstone. Daemon has always imagined a traditional Valyrian rite with dragon glass and exchanges of blood if he were to ever remarry after his first wife Rhea. He resents having to go through another ceremony under the Seven. However, Melessa is not of Valyrian descent and he has had to agree to this to even get her here in the first place.

The turnout is poor. Servants outnumber actual wedding guests, though Rhaenyra, Laenor, Jacaerys, Lucerys and Joffrey stand to the right and Melessa’s parents to the left. Daemon is almost too ashamed to look at any of them. She absolutely deserves better than this, yet she is looking at him as though she has never been happier. All traces of seasickness are gone and her blue eyes have recovered their beautiful shine.

She looks radiant, a vision of beauty in form fitting white lace, decorated with elegant hand-sewn roses. He can tell from the gooseflesh that prickles across her bare arms and shoulders that she is chilled to the bone. Dragonstone is absolutely going to be an adjustment for her.

Sad as he is to cover such a lovely ensemble, he is also glad to drape the cloak around her shoulders as they chant “I am yours and you are mine.” At least now she has something to keep her warm until he is able to heat her skin with his own later.

The hours may pass swiftly, but not fucking swiftly enough.

When they kiss it is as though he has forgotten how to breathe. He’d known her lips were soft - a quick glance at those rosy red lips was enough to see that - but it could never have prepared him for how they actually feel. They are tender and plump against his own, yet unyielding. It feels like it has ended no sooner than it began. For the sake of propriety they are forced to keep things chaste.

Finally, she is his.

“Husband,” she whispers up at him as they leave the Hall hand in hand. Her look of pure adoration is enough to make him feel as though his cock will slice clean through his breeches from the speed in which it rises to attention.

“Wife,” he murmurs back, fingertips grazing her delicate jaw.

Mercifully, they are spared the indignity of a wedding dance, though the meal that follows is tense and awkward. With only six adults and three children to occupy the table, it is a far cosier affair than Daemon would have liked and conversation does not flow freely. Rhaenyra and Laenor, to their credit, do more than their fair share of the talking, though it is clear that having to marry his only daughter to the Rogue Prince is still very much a bone of contention for Moryn. His wife is far more gracious, commenting on how much of a privilege it is to sup with the heir to the Iron Throne. Daemon sends a silent thanks to the gods that it’s her mother that Melessa takes after.

He is enamoured with her. Her eyes do not seem to move from him at all. She gazes up at him like he has hung the very stars in the sky for her and it makes his chest swell with pride. Feeding her morsels from his own fork, he is captivated by the way her lips move against the prongs. A flash of her wet pink tongue has him stifling a groan. She has kept the wedding cloak wrapped firmly around her. Despite the fireplace having been lit, it does little to keep the chill from the room, especially when it is so sparsely populated. 

Daemon longs to retire to their marital chambers, to unravel her from her layers like a gift. After having felt the softness of her lips against his, he is aching to find out if she feels that way everywhere, to feel the heat of his flesh pressed against hers.

The hours may pass swiftly, but not fucking swiftly enough.

At last, the wedding feast draws to a close and Daemon finds himself alone with Melessa, fighting the urge to leap upon her and stake his claim like a wild animal. He must show restraint, be gentle with her, convince her this is something she wants to do over and over again.

Unlike at the dining table, Melessa’s eyes seem to want to look anywhere but at him. The poor thing is nervous, he can see that from how she shakes.

“You are trembling, petal,” he says softly, taking her hands in his. He steps closer, carefully, a predator stalking its prey. “Are you frightened of me?”

“No,” he murmurs. “Not-not of you, but… of what you are going to - do to me. Will it - will it hurt?”

Daemon chuckles, releasing her hand to gently grip her jaw between his thumb and forefinger.

“Sweet flower. It is not what I am going to do to you; it is what we are going to do together. You will feel pleasure if you allow me to do as I please. Will you allow me?”

“Yes.”

“Good girl.”

He kisses her then. It is not the chaste kiss shared at the altar. His mouth moves against hers, claiming her lips as his own and she lets him. She gasps as his tongue sweeps against her own and he tangles his fingers into her silky hair, holding her in place as he feels her body relax into his. Finally, she is succumbing.

He pulls away, drawing in a steadying breath as he takes in her kiss-swollen lips and dilated pupils. She is perfect. His stones ache at the very sight of her.

“Has anyone ever kissed you like that before, petal?”

“I have never been kissed at all,” she whispers.

Gods, she is going to be the death of him. He inhales sharply through his nose, pushing the cloak from her shoulders and letting it pool to the floor.

“Undress.” His lust filled state gives his voice an edge, and the command is delivered with more sharpness than he intended. He caresses her cheek as her skin flushes with fear and embarrassment. “Trust me, little flower, I will take good care of you.”

“I-I will need you to help me.” Her voice trembles and her cheeks are almost scarlet.

She turns, brushing her long flaxen hair off of her back and over her shoulder to reveal the open back of the dress. It is held together by two fastenings at the back of her neck and lacing at the waist band of the skirt. The open back leaves her creamy white flesh totally exposed and Daemon cannot stop himself from reaching out and trailing his fingertips down the curve of her spine. She shivers beneath his touch and he cannot help the smirk that tugs at the corners of his mouth.

If she shakes at the mere touch of her back, imagine how she will react when I touch between her legs.

He carefully unclasps and unlaces her gown. As it falls away from her body, he turns, allowing her to step out of it as he begins to remove his doublet and undershirt.

The sensation that shoots straight to the tip of his cock as he returns his gaze to her leaves him sure he has just spilled his seed in his breeches. She is completely naked. He feels like he has forgotten to breathe as he drinks in the sight of her. She is small and slight; her breasts are petite, barely a handful with peaks that are the same ruddy shade as her lips. His eyes follow the natural curve of her waist and hips, lingering upon the delicate thatch of blonde curls that sits upon her mound.

“Where are your smallclothes, petal?” he asks, struggling to hold himself back as he battles to regulate his breathing. He is utterly bewildered and delighted in equal measure.

“I...uh… the cut of my wedding gown did not allow for small clothes. I was going to have them specially tailored, but there wasn’t time.”

The flush of her shame has now spread to her chest, a light dusting of pink blooming beneath her collarbones. Daemon now has another reason to be glad of the haste of their nuptials. A most fortunate turn of events indeed. He notices that her eyes linger on the marred flesh of his bare torso, a parting gift from a flaming arrow that punctured his neck during the battle of the Stepstones.

He cocks his head, watching her carefully as she takes him in. “Do my scars bother you?”

His words appear to snap her out of her reverie. She gives him an apologetic look, shaking her head fervently. “N-no… I just… may I touch them? Your scars, I mean.”

Daemon is taken aback by her request. He had expected her to be repulsed. His little flower is full of surprises. 

“You may.”

Her small, delicate hand reaches forward with trepidation. He cannot help but smile at the care with which she touches him as her fingertips trace gently over the ruined flesh.

“I am sorry that that happened to you,” she says softly.

He is touched by her sentiment, capturing her hand in his and pressing a kiss to the knuckles.

“Lay on the bed for me,” he says huskily, not wishing to dwell on the past any longer than he has to.

He lets go of her hand and she turns, climbing onto the bedspread before laying back on the pillows. He crawls on after her, bestowing another searing kiss upon her lips. She responds in kind, matching his passion. She is a fast learner.

She eyes him curiously as they part. “Will you keep your trousers on?”

“Eager to see my cock, little flower?” he smirks down at her.

“N-no! I mean… yes… but - I am naked and you are not...”

“Yes, you are naked,” he muses, trailing a hand down her side. “I need to prepare you, and that is easier for me to accomplish if I keep these on - for now.”

Daemon knows the moment his erection is free he will not be able to resist the urge to bury it inside of her, to make her irrevocably his. It is better to keep the barrier between them, to allow her what she needs to be ready for him. It is going to hurt her, there is no escaping that, but he will do all he can to ensure it doesn’t hurt as much as it could.

“I was right,” he muses, his hand giving her breast a gentle squeeze before his thumb rubs against her hardened peak. “You are soft everywhere. A proper little Highgarden rose that is ready for plucking.”

She gasps as he bows his head, laving the flat of his tongue over her breast and sucking on it. Her back arches, and the dulcet sounds that spill from her mouth indicate that she is enjoying this every bit as much as he is. He releases her with a wet pop, shifting his attention to the other. She is mewling by this point, writhing beneath him like a common whore. He wonders if she could peak from this alone, but he is too eager to taste her cunt to find out.

He shifts down the bed, stopping once his face is level with where her thighs meet. He grips her knees, spreading her legs. She is every bit the perfect little bud he’d envisioned; soft, neat and utterly untouched. The sight of the wetness that has gathered between her velvety folds causes him to groan and he runs his tongue through the length of it.

Melessa lets out a shocked yelp, attempting to push him away. “You cannot do that, it is dirty!”

He smirks, his eyes flitting up to meet hers. “Oh little flower, you have yet to learn what dirty truly is.”

He probes and prods with the tip of his tongue until he finds the pearl that is situated at the apex of her sex. She squeals as he circles it slowly and he has to hold her down by her hips to get her to keep still. She cants desperately against his face, greedy little thing that she is, and he indulges her, sucking messily at her. The noises that fill the room are obscene.

His index finger rests against her entrance. He is to be the first to ever breach her and he longs to savour the moment, but with the way his cock presses painfully against the mattress he knows he will spend before he’s even gotten to fuck her if he does not hurry things along. He pushes inside up to the knuckle, lips parting at how warm and tight she feels around his digit. He fears he may split her in two if he dares to add a second.

Melessa claws desperately at the bedsheets, eyes screwed shut as he crooks his finger, locating the spongy spot deep within her and dragging against it as he allows his tongue to focus its attention on her swollen bud. As her inner walls clench and more wetness seeps from her, he takes the opportunity for his middle finger to join his pointer inside of her. It is a snug fit and he scissors both fingers, an attempt to loosen her for what is to come.

Daemon knows he needs to get her to peak at least once if she is to be relaxed enough to take his cock for the first time. Using both fingers to bully at her, he laps at her cunny with renewed vigour. Melessa wails piteously.

“I-I’m going to piss myself!”sShe cries out.

He balks at the sudden vulgarity. Has she never peaked before?

He raises his head, taking in her panicked expression. “Have you ever touched yourself as I am touching you right now, petal?”

She shakes her head against the pillows. “Never. It is a sin.”

He laughs softly. “You aren’t going to piss yourself. You’re going to come, and you’ll like how it feels.”

He continues to work at her with his mouth and fingers until the clenching of her walls turns to fluttering contractions. The desperate cry that Melessa lets out is like music to Daemon’s ears. He laps greedily at the viscosity that floods out of her until she jerks away, too sensitive to take any more.

He moves back up the bed, chin still coated with her slick and kisses her deeply. If she is shocked by the taste of herself, she does not show it. The poor thing looks utterly dazed, as though he has fucked every coherent thought from her mind with his tongue and fingers.

“I think you are ready now,” he coos to her, working open the lacings of his trousers and pushing them down.

He takes his cock in his hand. Looking at her, he sees fear in her eyes.

“That’s never going to fit,” she whispers.

“It won’t at first,” he admits. “But I’ll make it fit.”

Daemon knows he has to act swiftly, when she is still pliable from the aftermath of her climax. If he allows time for fear to set in, she will tense up and it will be unpleasant for both of them.

He presses the head against her opening, pushing forward. Tears pool at the corners of her eyes and she whimpers in pain. Despite how he has worked to prepare her, she still feels like a vice around him and he’s not even halfway in.

He runs a soothing hand down her side, looking down at her pained expression with sympathy. “You aren’t going to like this, petal, but it will hurt less than if I go slowly.”

Thrusting forward with full force, he sheaths himself fully inside of her. She cries out in agony, hot tears rolling down her cheeks as she sobs from the pain of the intrusion and the tearing of her maidenhead. Daemon shushes her with soft kisses to her hairline, gently wiping away her tears with his thumbs.

“It is done now, little flower. The worst part is over.”

She is his. He has done it. She is finally his. He is the first to have her, and will be the only one to have her.

The grip she has on him is so tight he can feel her nails digging crescent moon shapes into his skin. Once she has calmed and her tears turned to sniffles, Daemon allows himself to move. She is so hot, so tight around him that he doesn’t realise he has been holding his breath until he needs to suck in a lungful of air to steady himself. The familiar scent of almond oil and rosewater fills his nostrils as he breathes her in.

His thrusts are slow to start with, dragging his shaft in and out of her at a laggard pace to allow her to adjust to the sensation. Once he feels her grip loosen on him, he senses she is relaxed enough for him to increase the pace.

The movements of his hips speed up and the noises Melessa makes begin to sound less pained and more like she is allowing herself to enjoy the experience. She is enough to drive him to total ruin as she lays beneath him - golden hair spread out across the pillows, eyes wet with tears, cheeks ruddy, and soft, pillowy lips parted in the sounds of pleasure she makes.

“Gods… you are perfect, molded to my cock, mine,” he utters through gritted teeth.

He will not last long. He would have liked to have brought her to peak once more, but he is past the point of no return. She stares up at him with the look of adoration from earlier, the one that places him at the very centre of her world, and he is done for.

“Fuck!” he growls, throwing his head back.

White hot pleasure licks at her lower back, his stones tighten and he falls over the precipice, spilling inside of her as his hips still. His attention lingers on the mixture of blood and his seed that leaks from her as he pulls out with a hiss and collapses next to her.

Eagerly, she seeks him out, laying her head on his chest, doe-eyed and soft. He wraps an arm around her.

“I love you.”

His eyes snap to hers. She means it. Shit.

What the fuck has he just done?