#together they make the brothers of all time

[loveesiren]

What about jj saving rafes gf instead of Sarah when she falls off the boat? Even though jj and Rafe hate each other

of course babes! sorry this took a while, i hope you enjoy! :)

𝕆𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕓𝕠𝕒𝕣𝕕

warnings: not proofread, language, slight angst

wc: 2.4k+

Before you were Rafe Cameron’s girl, you were a Pogue through and through. You grew up with JJ and John B, learning to boat, fish, and work hard for the things you wanted. Life was simple but full, with endless summer days spent on the water and nights filled with laughter. When Pope and Kiara joined your crew, it felt like your family was complete—especially since having Kiara around meant you finally had someone who understood what it was like to be a girl surrounded by all that chaotic, masculine energy.

But things changed when you caught the attention of Rafe Cameron. At first, it seemed impossible. A Kook and a Pogue? The idea alone was laughable. Yet, against all odds, there was something magnetic about Rafe—a spark you couldn��t ignore. And to your surprise, he felt it too. It wasn’t long before stolen glances turned into secret meetings, and those meetings turned into something deeper. But every step closer to Rafe felt like a step away from your childhood friends.

Sure, it was fine when John B started dating Sarah Cameron. But when you got with the older Cameron sibling, it was a problem. Rafe’s constant harassment didn’t help your case. Sarah was much kinder than her brother, and the Pogues saw her as someone who genuinely cared for John B. Rafe, on the other hand, had a reputation that preceded him—a volatile temper and a knack for trouble that made him nearly impossible to trust. Except when it came to you. Your presence seemed to calm the storm in his mind.

Choosing Rafe wasn’t easy. It wasn’t that you stopped caring for the Pogues. In fact, you still loved them fiercely, even if your paths had diverged. Being with Rafe meant walking a tightrope. While he harbored a burning hatred for your old crew, he knew better than to act on it—because hurting them meant risking you. And losing you was unthinkable for Rafe, who had grown to see you as the one thing anchoring him in his stormy world. But even his restraint couldn’t erase the tension. The Pogues saw your relationship as a betrayal, and you feared they’d never forgive you. 

Now, you sat alone on the edge of a boat, staring out at the vast expanse of the Atlantic as it stretched endlessly before you. The journey to Morocco wasn’t one you’d ever imagined taking. But here you were, caught between two worlds, trying desperately to keep the peace. It was your idea to bring Rafe and the Pogues together for this mission. You’d convinced Rafe to help them track down Groff, who had made off with his money, knowing it could also give JJ and Pope a chance to evade capture. Even if you weren’t close anymore, you couldn’t bear to see the people you once called family thrown behind bars.

But, as expected, not everything had gone to plan.

The Pogues didn’t trust Rafe—and for good reason. His track record spoke for itself. As soon as they got him on the boat, they tied him up in the tiny bathroom, keeping him under lock and key. You understood their logic, but that didn’t make it any easier to see your boyfriend treated like a prisoner. Worse still, they’d forbidden you from seeing him until you reached Morocco. You didn’t fight them on it. Confrontation had never been your strong suit, and besides, you knew better than to argue with JJ when his mind was made up.

So, you sat in silence, listening to the rhythmic crash of waves against the hull, the salty breeze brushing against your face. The solitude of the sea was both comforting and suffocating. It gave you time to think—about the choices you’d made, the people you’d hurt, and the fragile balance you were struggling to maintain. You wanted to believe this trip could be a turning point, a chance to bridge the gap between Rafe and the Pogues. But deep down, you knew the odds were slim. Trust was hard to rebuild, and the wounds on both sides ran deep.

As the sun dipped lower on the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, you let out a weary sigh. All you could do now was wait—for land, for answers, for the moment when everything would inevitably come to a head. Until then, the sea was your only companion, its endless expanse reflecting the tangled mess of your heart.

-

Sarah was kind. She always had been. Even after all her brother had put her through, she still cared for him enough to make sure he was fed and hydrated. She did the same for you.

“Brought you some dinner,” she said, plopping down beside you.

“Thanks,” you responded softly. You took a few bites of the sandwich she brought you before putting it aside. Your appetite had been wearing thin the entire trip.

“I think it’s stupid too,” she said, looking out at the horizon while the late sun cast bright ripples on the calm water.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

She shrugged her shoulders. “The whole Kook versus Pogue thing. Rafe’s done his fair share of bad shit, but haven’t we all? I really think he wants to help this time.”

“He does,” you said. “All he wants is to get his money back from Groff. He doesn’t care about the crown. Honest.”

“I know,” she said, offering you a soft smile. “We’ll be there soon. Try to rest.”

You pondered her words as she walked off. You weren’t overly close with Sarah. It was almost as if you and she had swapped lives. You started seeing Rafe around the same time Sarah and John B got together, and for the last three years, she’d been getting a taste of life’s adventures while you enjoyed the finer things. You loved Rafe. You were in love with him. You couldn’t imagine being without him. But you often found yourself missing the life you once lived with the Pogues.

You cringed as you swallowed one final shot of whiskey, a vice that did close to nothing to take the stress away. You tossed the bottle to the side and rolled over, closing your eyes and trying your best to relax to the soothing sounds of the ocean. Eventually, you were lulled to sleep, dreaming of Rafe. He smiled as he took you into his large arms, and you felt secure in his warm embrace.

The dream was short-lived, though, as you were thrown roughly against the hard wall of the boat. Disoriented, you struggled to find something to grip. Rain lashed against your face as the boat pitched violently from side to side.

You made your way to your feet and took in your surroundings. The storm had hit fast. You could see movement inside the helm as the Pogues scrambled to navigate the chaos and secure the boat.

“Rafe,” you whispered, your breath hitching. “Rafe!” your voice rose into a frantic scream as you stumbled toward the helm. You knew you had to find him—if he was left unsecured, he’d drown.

“Y/N, get inside!” JJ’s voice cut through the storm. You turned to see him and John B holding the door open, JJ’s hand extended toward you. You reached for him, but another violent wave threw you to the deck.

“Where’s Rafe?!” you yelled, coughing as salty seawater stung your throat.

“Kiara’s getting him!” John B shouted back.

Moments later, Rafe appeared in the doorway, drenched but alive. “Y/N!”

Relief flooded through you at the sight of him, but your joy was short-lived. A massive wave loomed on the horizon, crashing into the boat with terrifying force. You screamed as the water dragged you off the stern, the world disappearing into a churning abyss.

“Y/N!” JJ and Rafe shouted in unison.

“Rafe!” you screamed, fighting to keep your head above water. The sea clawed at you, threatening to pull you under. “Rafe! Help!”

“I’m coming, Y/N!” JJ’s voice rang out as he dove into the water after you.

“JJ, what are you doing?!” John B yelled, trying to hold Rafe back from following. “JJ, no, no, no!”

But it was too late. JJ had already disappeared beneath the waves.

“Y/N!” Rafe’s scream was raw with desperation, tears streaming down his face. John B had never seen him so unhinged, so consumed by fear.

John B pressed his hand firmly against Rafe’s chest, forcing him back inside. “Come on, man! We can’t help them if we drown too!” he yelled over the howling wind. He shoved Rafe into the cabin and slammed the door shut.

“No, no, no, no, no!” Rafe sobbed, pounding his fists against the wall. “I have to go help her! I have to find her, man!”

“Rafe!” Sarah’s voice cut through the chaos as she wrapped her arms around him. “Rafe, it’s okay! Let’s just get to land. I’m sure they’ll find their way back!” She rubbed his back as he crumpled, his sobs echoing through the small cabin.

-

The water finally calmed as you and JJ struggled onto the sand, every muscle in your body screaming with exhaustion. The cold night air bit at your skin, but the relief of solid ground beneath you was overwhelming. Collapsing onto the beach, you coughed violently, lungs burning as you fought to catch your breath.

“Are you okay?” JJ asked, his voice ragged between gasps for air.

You nodded weakly, words feeling like too much effort. After a moment, you managed to rasp, “A-Are you?”

“Yeah,” he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Minutes passed as you both sat in silence, trying to steady your breathing. The ocean stretched out before you, dark and infinite, illuminated only by a pale sliver of moonlight. A single tear slid down your cheek as your thoughts turned to Rafe—his face, his voice, and the uncertainty of whether you’d ever see him again.

“They’ll be okay, Y/N,” JJ said softly, his tone more reassuring than he probably felt. “At first light, we’ll head down the beach. We’ll find them.”

You nodded, swallowing back another wave of emotion. “Hey, Jayj?” Your voice was barely audible.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you,” you murmured, gratitude lacing every syllable.

He turned to you with a tired but genuine smile. “Can’t kill a Pogue, right?”

The next thing you knew, the sun was warming your skin, its gentle rays coaxing you back to consciousness. The once-violent sea was calm now, its rhythmic waves bringing an unexpected peace. You stretched, muscles stiff and aching, before glancing toward the shore.

JJ was standing near the water, absentmindedly dragging his foot through the sand. You rose to your feet, brushing off grains of sand stuck to your damp clothes, and made your way over to him.

“Hey,” you greeted softly.

He turned, offering you a small smile. “Hey. Sleep okay?”

“Guess so,” you chuckled. “Didn’t even realize I passed out.”

“Not surprising,” JJ said with a shrug. “You were pretty wrecked.” His tone was light, but concern lingered in his eyes. “I was thinking we head up the beach toward where the boat was headed. If they made it to land, that’s where we’ll find them.”

You winced at the word if, the uncertainty slicing through your chest like a blade. “Okay,” you replied firmly. “Let’s go.”

For the next 45 minutes, the two of you trudged along the beach in silence, your shared determination a quiet bond. Every step brought a mix of hope and dread as you scanned the horizon for any sign of your loved ones.

“You know,” JJ said suddenly, breaking the silence, “they’re probably feeling the same as us—like they might never see us again.”

You shook your head, gripping tightly onto hope. “We’ll find them, Jayj. We have to.”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice soft but resolute. “We will.”

A few more minutes passed before you gathered the courage to speak again. “JJ?”

He glanced at you, his brow furrowing slightly.

“Do… Do you hate me?” The question felt heavy on your tongue, dredging up years of unspoken tension.

JJ’s expression shifted, a flicker of pain crossing his features. He sighed, raking a hand through his damp hair. “No, Y/N. I don’t hate you. I don’t think I could hate you even if I wanted to.”

His words caught you off guard, and you looked down, fiddling with your hands. “It just… it felt like you did.”

JJ’s voice softened as he continued. “I was hurt. You were my best friend, and when you and Rafe got together, it felt like he stole you away. From me. From all of us.”

A tear slid down your cheek, and you quickly wiped it away. “I’m sorry, Jayj. I never wanted to hurt you.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” he said firmly. “All you’ve ever done was try to keep the peace. I should’ve seen that sooner. And last night, when you fell off the boat…” His voice wavered, and he looked away. “All I could think about was how I couldn’t let you die thinking I hated you. You’re my sister, Y/N. You always will be.”

Tears blurred your vision as you stepped forward, wrapping your arms around him. JJ hugged you back tightly, resting his chin on your head.

“I love you, Jayj. I’ve missed you so much,” you whispered.

He pulled back, his hands on your shoulders. “We’re gonna fix this. All of it. I’ll even make an effort with Rafe if it means getting you back.”

An hour later, the sun was high in the sky when you spotted movement in the distance.

“J, is that them?” you asked breathlessly, shielding your eyes with your hand.

JJ squinted at the figures. “Let’s find out,” he said, quickening his pace.

As you got closer, the shapes grew clearer: Sarah’s golden hair, Kiara’s familiar stance, and Rafe’s unmistakable silhouette towering above the group.

“Rafe!” you cried, breaking into a run.

He turned at the sound of your voice, his eyes widening before he sprinted toward you. The moment he reached you, his arms wrapped around you, lifting you off the ground.

“Oh my God,” he murmured, his voice breaking as he buried his face in your neck. “I thought I lost you. I thought I’d never see you again!” He cried.

“I’m here,” you whispered, tears streaming down your face. “I’m safe. JJ saved me.”

When Rafe finally pulled back, his gaze shifted to JJ, who stood a few feet away, watching the reunion. Without hesitation, Rafe approached him and pulled him into a hug.

“Thank you,” Rafe said, his voice thick with emotion.

JJ stiffened for a moment, then relaxed, clapping Rafe on the back. “Yeah, well… couldn’t let her die on my watch,” he said with a crooked smile.

As you stood there, watching the two men who meant so much to you, hope swelled in your chest. For the first time in years, you felt like things might finally be okay.

© loveesiren 2025 - do not copy, translate, transfer, or repost my work without my permission. if you find my work on sites other than through links i've provided, please notify me.

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[voguesabnxrmal]

✧ ۫ ┉┉ Make it to the morning!

┊Pairing: Chris Sturniolo x fem! Reader

┊Summary: Chris & his girl waking up together in the morning.

┊Type: drabble

┊warnings: just fluff :)

┊WC: 555

┊requested by: @purpledragon222

(this is my first fic send any suggestions:))

The sensation of someone's heartbeat against you brings a feeling of warmth, calm, and comfort.

The knowing assurance of someone beside you and there when you need it.

Whenever you find yourself at your boyfriend's house, you can’t help but wake up with a smile. The cozy familiarity of his warm room, filled with the faint scent of his cologne, wraps around you like a comforting blanket. The soft morning light filters through his curtains, casting a gentle glow that makes everything feel serene.

As you slowly open your eyes, the sight of him peacefully sleeping under you brings a smile to your face. the thought of those precious moments of falling asleep together and getting to wake up right by the love of your life fills your heart with joy. It’s a feeling you eagerly anticipate every time you visit him and his brothers, knowing that being in his presence always brings warmth and happiness to your mornings.

You lay there admiring his sleeping face and beauty, taking in what's all yours.

You slowly start to trace shapes along his chest and stomach, placing soft kisses from the top of his chest slowly to his cheek.

You gently lean in closer, your lips brushing softly against his skin in delicate pecks. Each kiss is tender and unhurried, a soothing rhythm meant to rouse him from slumber. You take care to express your affection with every touch, honoring the peaceful moment between you and cherishing the intimacy of waking him with love.

As the touches begin to increase, he begins to awaken, roused gently by the delicate kisses that brush against his skin.

“Mmm, good morning, baby,” he says, wrapping his hands around your body he dears so much.

You press one more kiss, rougher than before, to his cheek and smile up at him. “Good morning Chris,” you say dragging out the words.

“You are sure lovey this morning,” he smiles down at you from above.

“I just want to cuddle up to you and cherish this before I have to leave for work.” Nestling your head against his chest, you felt the warmth radiating from him as you muttered your words softly, the sound muffled against his bare chest. Annoyance laced your tone.

Yet the moment felt intimate, wrapped in a blend of annoyance and comfort. Your breaths mingled with the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, creating a cocoon of familiarity, even as the irritation simmered beneath the surface.

The frustration makes him cackle, causing the vibrations of his laugh to tickle you, throwing you both into fits of laughter.

Just the presence of being with each other brings a mix of love and laughter within you to. Many mornings like this are meant to come.

The morning of kisses being shared, and laughs echoing the room with the man you love, even though its interrupted by Matt and Nick jumping in the bed with you two.

“Do you guys always have to ruin the moment between me and my girlfriend.” Chris groans rolling over to where he's on top of you nestling his head into the crook of your neck and hair.

once again, a course of laughing through the room by the 4 of you.

Laughter and love is what makes it to the morning.

[horrorslvts]

chris doesnt know how to change a tire 🤍

nsfw: car nsfw, no sex, switch chris and reader, female reader, breast play, making out, sweat, cum, fingering.

awful idea.

all of this was an awful idea.

you and chris wanted to celebrate him getting his drivers license by going on a trip to the beach with matt’s car. however, you didn’t think about the chance he would demolish his brothers car on your way back. now? youre wet, hot, almost dehydrated and drenched in your own sweat and salt.

you watch as chris tries repeatedly to turn the engine again and go somewhere, anywhere, but the car is limping more than you after a good fucking on a sunday night. you look over as the brunette goes out of the car, an after a few seconds comes back in the car hitting the door behind him.

“what is it?!”

you tell him loudly, on the verge of choking him with your own hands.

“flat tire!!”

he yells back at you and puts his hands on the wheel, allowing his head to fall between his arms. your eyes trace his salty and glued-together locks, and momentarily you want to grab them and rip them out his head from anger.

“you dont know how to change a t-“

“no y/n i was half asleep when matt was showing me that!”

chris rises his head from its hiding spot between his arms and looks at you with a pissed off expression.

“oh my god chris! how did you even get that damn license anyways-!”

you throw your head back as grunts are exchanged between you two, and you feel the sweat beading on your temples and making a beeline towards the veins on the side of your neck. you fish your phone out your denim booty shorts pocket and send a message to matt to come here asap.

“jesus christ it will take him like half an hour to get here-“ chris whispers beneath his own heavy breath as if you chose the worst possible solution to this mess.

“i know-!”

you officially decided it, your best friend is an absolute idiot and there was no explanation for it, he had been this way even before the almost heat-stroke you two were going through.a few seconds of silence make you sigh loudly.

”you good?” chris asks looking off into the distance of the sunny hill as he turns on the ac.

“just dizzy..”

you say back at him in a low, tired voice. you despise being hot, its your personal nightmare fuel. you lift your hand and place your fingertips in front of the car ac to cool your limbs down.

chris does the same and after half a minute of his hand getting chilly, he places it on your inner thigh in an attempt to cool you down and wake you up by snapping you out of your slumber.

“holy fuck chris-“

you let out with a gasp that was almost leaked out of a porn category, more so to the feeling of a large hand gripping your inner thigh than the temperature of his skin itself.

“shut up, you need to cool down.”

he says and looks ahead at the rocky landscape, his hand still tightly holding your soft salty skin.

you sit back on the car seat and cross your arms as you let him do his thing and look to the other side trying to hide the red blush across your cheeks. at worst case scenario, if asked you could blame it on the heat.

his thumb starts rubbing circular motions on your skin, occasionally playing with the rim of your denim shorts. you slowly creep your eyes from out the window towards chris and your gaze immediately spots the elephant in the room. your best friend had an erection that was visible as day beneath his trunks.

“uh chris-“

”i know. sorry, its tricky having my hand on your thigh and not letting my mind go places-ignore it.” he said completely avoiding to turn his head and look at you.

“places like..?”

god, why would you audibly ask that? some times you really wish you could hold your thoughts INSIDE your head like they are supposed to be.

“you really wanna find out?”

he turns to face you, tired eyes look at you in curiosity as they creep towards your thighs and you feel your parts tingle and your heart skip a beat. your silence was followed by a tiny shrug and nod, you could feel your lower lip trembling in need.after a few seconds his lips fell agape, surprised you didn’t immediately slap the audacity out of him.

he turns his head again to look elsewhere and starts sliding his hand upwards, slowly sliding down the zipper of your shorts. you feel your breathing get heavier, warmer and even though the ac is helping, your own body temperature is now playing tricks on you.

his fingertips fiddle with the fabric of your bikini and eventually slide their way under towards your warm skin. a little gasp makes your body slightly jolt upwards as you see the slight tent on his trunks grow and hear his breathing get heavier and head lower.

you hesitate but eventually let your hand travel towards his own thigh, and slowly touch his bulge. that makes chris immediately look at you and grab your wrist with his free hand.

“y/n dont make me do something we might regret.”

“..we can blame it on the heatstroke.” you say without thinking at all.

a slight silence follows and before you know it  chris frees both his hands to move you on his lap, letting your legs spread and find their way across the car. one on top of the steering wheel and the other stretched towards the passenger seat. his hard on your ass makes your face red and you instinctively move your thighs slightly, making chris groan and place his lips on yours.

you two start kissing like animals that are fighting over raw meat.

his tongue pushes yours, and you can feel his breath on your upper lip tremble. he lets out soft moan and groans as his fingers go under your bikini again, and without hesitation this time play with your clit

“f..fuck..” he mumbles under his breath and places his head to lean on your chest. his tongue then softly runs across the salty skin and he moans softly in pleasure before pulling down your bikini bra. your nipple peaks out just enough for chris to kiss and lick.

his teeth softly play with it as he looks up at you with the neediest eyes ever, like a puppy that is begging for your attention. his lips purse around your pink skin and he smiles while his tongue runs circles on your breast.

this is so overwhelming for you that you cover your mouth and lean back. his free hand holds your neck softly from the side and you can still feel him lick your breasts.

at this point you two were posed like a large instrument and the worlds most delicate musician in the world playing with it. only that the music was coming from your throats.his finger slides inside you and at the feeling of your warm and wet pussy he gasps.

“youre drenched..” he says in pleasure with a tone that reminds you of a whine. he proceeds to continue moving his finger inside you. in and out softly while his thumb is running circles on your clit.

”fuck..chris..”

”y/n i swear to god im gonna burst on my own fucking clothes-“ he says.

you believe him because you can feel his stomach raise and then drop from his breathing, and the hard feeling on your ass is now accompanied by him softly grinding his cock across your body.

you slightly look down to see the tip of his cock try to escape the rim of his waistband, and wet precum dripping from it and sticking to his skin.that view alone was enough to make you get even more wet on his fingers and feel yourself building up.

“chris im gonna-fuck im-“

he covers your mouth with his free hand, snaking it around your neck and shoulders and you feel yourself moving your body and fucking yourself on his fingers. you hold onto his hand and feel your nipple wet from his mouth again.

in between your orgasm, you feel him stop and lean his head on you as his fingertips start losing pace.after a few seconds you feel his hand slowly release of your mouth and you hear him breath heavily.

“..holy..fucking..”

you look down on your best friend only to see his stomach drenched in white, sticky cum. his dick is pulsating letting out the last drops of semen and you both are a salty, cummed on and sweaty mess.

then, the phone rings.chris, looking defeated reaches for the phone and picks it up on speaker, setting it on your thigh.

”yeah?” he says with a shaky breath.

“uh..did you guys..finish with your business so i can change your damn tire?” matt asks in a whispered tone.

you turn your head to see him only a few feet behind your car standing and looking elsewhere.

[fancyfeathers]

Imagine Daughter!Reader pulls a "I'm gonna fake a crush on my brother's best friend so I can make them ALL uncomfortable" but it backfires and the best friend actually likes her back😭? (obviously daughter!reader's age will depend on the batboys bestfriend so no weird stuff going on in this ask dw) Like for Dick, Wally West. Maybe she asks the question "What else can go fast?" or something odd. Then for Jason, Roy Harper she asks him to teach her archery. Jason probably trusting her(maybe) he let's it go on but then catches Roy looking at her differently. Then for the others the same thing, like Tim- Conner. Something like REALLLLLLLLY kid-ish for Jon Kent if you feel like adding Damian's best friend. (These are all separate so no harem thing going on thank god.) Thank you for reading!!!!!<3

Yandere Batfam w/ Wife/Mother!Darling & Daughter/Sister!Darling Masterlist

YES OH MY GOD I WAS JUST THINKING ABOUT THIS!

So realistically because she is the youngest, her crush would be on either Jon because he would only be a year older than her, or Connor who may be a bit older (physically, cause he was a lab child) but still within that reasonable age. Then in actual canon she has a boyfriend, who may be a lot little crazy, but they’re in love… right?

But anyway for this let’s say her age differs on each scenario in this okay

Okay Dick is just sitting there the like what the hell the moment he walks back in living room to see his little sister laughing and chatting with Wally, sitting way too close for comfort. Dick tries to show some self restraint, give the benefit of the doubt, but let’s be honest when Wally West falls in love it is head over heels and it is something that happens in an instant, basically love at first sight, she wouldn’t have to say anything to him, she just has to walk into a room. Then cue Dick ending up as a third wheel for the rest of the day, it probably gets to the point where Dick comes up with some excuse of why Wally needs to leave early and then as Wally is leaving he might ask about Dick’s sister and Dick gives him the biggest side eye ever and he just drops the topic. Then Dick goes back inside and his sister’s hair is all messed up, like a strong wind brew by and she is just holding her phone when she wasn’t a second ago…

“What…happened?”

“I think Wally put his number in my phone…”

“Son of a-“

With Jason and Roy, they are going on a mission together and training beforehand. Sister!Darling just handing around because Bruce and the rest of their siblings are gone and Alfred is out running errands that day, so until they get back Jason has to watch her which Roy thinks is weird because she is a few years younger than them for the sake of this post, but okay. So she is just sitting in the cave, reading a book Jason gave her because she not allowed down there so she’s not allowed to touch anything. Jason walks off to go find a different type of bullet and asks Roy to keep an eye on her because she is not allowed anywhere near the weapons or gear, and Roy just looks at her and waves her over…

“Cmon’ wanna try taking a shot?”

“Um… I don’t know-“

“I can teach you.”

So he does, and I really don’t know how to describe it besides this scene from Princess Diaries and just imagine when Jason comes back and found his best friend holding his little sister from the back, his cheek practically pressed against hers. He just loudly clears her throat and tells her that he needs to talk to her and he takes her out of the cave and sends her to her room, locking her in and sends a note to Bruce or whoever going to be home first what happened and where she is. Then he does back downstairs and Roy has the guts to ask if she is single and Jason just can’t…

“Fuck off Roy, she’s off limits.”

Now Tim has a harder time shaking off his friend, and I mean going by Connor in the comics (cause we don’t talk about Connor in Young Justice here) he is a bit of a headstrong personality and cocky, so if Connor and his sister are chatting and teasing each other he doesn’t really think much of it literally until he finds them kissing, a hand on her thigh and on the back of her neck and Connor is slightly levitating. Tim waits until Connor leaves and then he questions his sister about it, and she fesses up to basically trying to get on Tim’s nerves by flirting with his best friend but Connor ended up actually liking her, like a lot and one thing led to another and they were making out and have been texting for weeks and Tim didn’t think of it twice because it was Connor.

So then Tim asks Bruce to try to intervene by asking Clark for help but Connor has already gushed about his situationship with her to literally everyone in the Kent Family, and Clark has already gave Connor advice to ask her out and ideas for dates and it even got to the point where Ma and Pa are asking about when they can meet her because she sounds like a sweet girl. She just dug herself in a hole with this one, platonic Yandere!Superfam anyone?

Then Damian, well this is just kiddy love with his sister and Jon, and Damian knows that but it doesn’t mean he is okay with it. Whenever Jon is is over they are always talking, and Jon is just trying to impress her with his (half) kryptonian powers. Meanwhile Damian is giving Jon the side eye and really it’s nothing but that doesn’t stop him from running to go tell Bruce about it, what if it evolves into something more when they get older. So Bruce goes to talk to Clark about it and Clark doesn’t think it’s a big deal, they’re just kids and this is how kids are and so Damian just has to watch while Jon pushes her on the swings and deal with the fact that she just wants to spend time with Jon Kent and not him. Ugh.

[rafesbangs]

hi sweetheart ♡ could you write something with like mean-stepsis!reader & sub-stepbro!rafe? maybe they could be at a family dinner, she’s palming (or jerking) him off underneath the table and edging him while acting all casual, pretending absolutely nothing is going on. i love your work!!

oh i loooove this & uuuu. tysm ml !! <3

req! 𝜗𝜚 mean-stepsis!reader loves teasing sub-stepbro!rafe, but especially publicly

c!w; mdni !! step-cest, desperate sub!rafe, mean/dom!reader, teasing, edging, public masturbation sorta, handjob, rafe cums in his pants tehe. notes; first ever ask !! yaayy, i had sm fun writing this actually who knew i liked sub!rafe sm <333

to celebrate the family's recent unity, ward wanted to have a huge family dinner. no one was really thrilled but ward and your mom, his new wife. it had been a while since the wedding and you and rafe had found yourselves... getting to know each other, often.

actually right before the dinner had begun, you and rafe had been in his room, his hips snapping against you as he drove his cock deep into your weeping hole, kissing your cervix. you'd already came a few times but rafe was just about to spill into you when ward called from downstairs. the two of you hurriedly gotten re-dressed for dinner and come down as if you hadn't even seen each other all day.

now the whole family was sat around this huge expensive dining room table your mother had gotten as a wedding gift, it was ugly. extravagantly so. you and rafe were seated next to each other and after a while you could tell his cock was still aching in his pants. the way your incredibly short white dress would ride up drove him insane, and he had been peaking at your thighs hoping for a glance of your sweet pussy, he knew you hadn't bothered to put your panties back on earlier.

you grinned when he caught you looking at his bulge, it was huge and unforgiving the way it so obviously rose out of his pants. his cheeks went flush, and he kept trying to re-adjust his cock but all he was doing was creating more and more friction that kept the boner up.

everyone was immersed in conversation, too busy to notice you sneaking your hand over to your step brother's lap. his eyes went wide when you started stroking the bulge through his pants. he had to stop himself from groaning at how good the feeling of your dainty hand felt on his throbbing cock.

after a few painful minutes, reality hit him like a truck, you were sitting eating dinner together. family dinner. your hand was on his cock at family dinner. he gently put one hand over yours, looking at you with nervous eyes, you could see him begging for a release but also knew he was scared of coming undone at the dining room table.

a wicked smile spread across your lips and you just swatted his hand away, he let you, swallowing hard. your hand now slid over his cock again, rough, and you found the button and zipper of his khakis.

he clenched his jaw, feeling exactly what you were doing and had to grip the table without anyone noticing to compose himself when you slowly dragged the zipper down. you knew it would be painful now, having a boner this hard for this long, but you didn't care. you loved to watch him writhe beneath your touch.

you rolled his cock under your palm again, slowly but making sure to give extra attention to his red tip, pre-cum had already seeped through his boxers. he grabbed at your wrist and let out a little whimper, turning his head away from the table and towards you, hoping no one would notice. heat pooling in your lower stomach at the sound.

you started testing how close he was, tapping at his tip, he twitched with every tiny touch, giving you a desperate look with his eyebrows permanently cinched together. you couldn't tell if he was begging you to stop or begging you to let him cum, he couldn't either.

after toying with his clothed cock for a while, you drew your hand back with a grin, getting into a conversation with ward about wanting to learn how to handle the druthers. rafe couldn't believe you'd leave him like that, he started trying to adjust himself again, but to no avail. only after the slightly long conversation had ended and ward wasn't paying attention to you did you look at rafe again. he was in agony.

his hips were ever so slightly bucking every few breaths, a stressed hand ran through his hair, slightly greasy from sweat. your hand snaked into his lap again and his eyes lit up, but you didnt do anything. just sat your hand on top of his swollen cock, grinning.

he just stared at you as you looked forward, eating politely. when you finally met his eyes again he mouthed a little 'please', the word coming out in a very soft whisper. your tongue darted out at your lips, he was begging now.

in a swift movement your once resting hand pulled his aching dick from his boxers, and you were now slowly jerking him off. his hips were instinctively bucking at every movement, a small giggle left your lips and you could hear him heavily breathe out in exasperation.

finally you thought you might as well give him the satisfaction after so long, the way one of his hands was desperately holding your wrist as you played with his cock was too convincing. knowing what would happen, you pull his boxers back over his cock but start jerking him off vigorously. he moaned into his hand, eventually biting down on his wrist to suppress his pleasure when he finally came. thick white cum coating his lap, even going through his boxers and onto your hand a little.

you smirk at him as his eyes go wide, alarm bells ringing in his head. with all the cum on your hand everywhere you pretended to drop a napkin, leaning down to pick it up. you made sure rafe was watching when you licked your hand clean, even dragging your fingers over his lap to lick up whatever else you could.

"good boy" you cooed, he got impossibly hard all over again.

[xyfanficarchive]

headcanons: calling up your mouthwashing bf to come over when you’re sick <3

because i’m sick.

ft. curly, jimmy, and daisuke

its my first time writing daisuke… idk brother but i had ideas for him so

Curly:

-this sweet, loving man is on the scene to come to your aid asap. like it’s his destiny to be your sicknurse. he loves being there to care for you

-he shows up with everything: warm blankets, hes got cold and flu medicine, he brought your favourite sweater of his for you to wear, little snacks, a thermometer to take your temperature

-if you’re lucky, he asked his mum to make soup, and he brought a serving or two. the man can’t really cook. he had a lovely mother who fed him and then spent way too much time in space eating prepackaged meals and slop assembled from gelatin water and sweetener.

-but her soup is not something you can just whip up really fast; so if not, he’ll try cooking anyways - an easy recipe. pre made broth cartons and all that. might even go for the pre packaged dry soup sachets. he’s aware of his culinary shortcomings. but it’s made with the utmost love.

-he does make a great cup of tea. nice, warm, and sweet to soothe your sore throat.

-he’s typically a well dressed man but he shows up in comfy clothes. he’s ready to lock down and cuddle with you for as long as you need, on the bed, or on the couch watching a movie, something lighthearted and low stakes. he’s a furnace, theres no better man to lie with when you’re shivering from the fever and cant get warm.

-he’ll gently massage your achey body, the man has magic hands, you feel so much better.

-when the fever breaks and you’re sweaty and flushed he’s there to help strip you out of the thick layers and dab cool water on your face and neck and chest

-he knows he’s gonna get sick. but he doesn’t mind that much, its all worth it to be there and to show you how much he cares <3

Jimmy:

-not gonna lie, his first thought is “what the fuck, i don’t wanna get sick, i can’t afford that shit.” he almost doesn’t want to come. cause when he gets sick, he always has to weather the sickness all alone.

-he doesn’t eat that well on earth. so maybe he’s a lil malnourished, his immune system isn’t the strongest. when he gets sick he’s fucking down for the count.

-but he zips it up, and thinking for a second more he realizes that he was the first one you called for help and comfort and he just. pauses and pinches the bridge of his nose, sighs. “…just hang on, I’ll be right there.” he does care about you, when it comes down to it.

-and imagine your surprise when you amble weakly to the door and he’s there, with a bottle of nyquil and, a bag of vegetables, some pasta, and is that a whole uncooked chicken?! he dug deep into his coffers to get ingredients to make you real chicken soup. if that doesnt show you how much jimmy loves you idk what will.

-he’s no 5 star chef, but he can cook pretty well. he can follow a recipe no problem. there were a lot of “fend for yourself” nights growing up. sometimes he’d even save his own money as a kid to buy ingredients to make a real proper meal.

-(and also slaving away over the stove for hours gives him an excuse to keep his distance as much as possible, man does not want to get infected.)

-he’s still gonna sit with you, let you lay your head on his lap while he waits for the soup to all simmer together. stroking your hair while you’re under a pile of blankets, both watching nothing tv just to pass the time and fill the silence. you can kinda smell the soup, what you can smell is rich and delicious

-you both eat his incredible hearty nourishing soothing soup and cuddle on the couch when you start getting cold. and when he starts thinking it’s time to leave he realizes you fell asleep on his chest. fuck, i guess he’s stuck now.

-he really, really hopes you’ll return the favour in a week’s time when he’s sick as a dog. (you better go nurse that man and make him feel so cared for)

Daisuke:

-the man is thrilled. hes like AWWW YEAH DAISUKE TO THE RESCUE COMING TO NURSE MY BOO BACK TO HEALTH. he’s so happy you asked him for help. he’s determined to make you feel better.

-he really does the absolute most. he pulls up with like, several different kinds of medicine, he’s got games and movies to pass the time, he’s got so many snacks and junk food. he was at the store thinking, what food always makes me feel better? and filled his cart. there was a get well soon balloon at the checkout line so you know he bought it last second.

-he’s a little. much. he’s just enthusiastic about making you feel better. he’s going through the whole laundry list of everything he brought while your sluggish sick brain is in circles trying to keep up. and not gonna lie, you’re a little too fatigued to play video games.

-so you’re lying there next to him under the blankets watching him play video games and munching on like. chips and candy and stuff. coughing and dripping from your nose. kinda drifting in and out of sleep. he’s doing his very best to keep it down. but just being near him is so comforting.

-eventually. the junk food just is not cutting it. and your mouth kinda hurts from the hard salty snacks and your tongue is coated from the candy. “daisuke, baby… did you bring any real food?” and you sound all weak and hoarse and youre aching all over. he’s like. OH, shit. yah i guess chips arent the most nourishing food for when youre sick huh…. he sits there thinking for a moment and then the lightbulb goes off

-“hold on babe, i know just the thing, i’ll be right back!!” and he rushes out. on the way to the grocery store again he’s calling up his mom like MAMA how do you make that soup you gave me when i was sick as a kid???

-he comes back and whips up estrellita soup in no time, because its just like, chicken broth and some salt and little star pasta. and he looks so damn pleased handing you the bowl. how the fuck can you feel bad when he’s smiling like that over this bowl of tiny little stars.

-he’s so happy watching you eat his childhood sick soup. he spends the night, all he wants is to make you feel better, he doesnt even think once about getting sick himself.

[anas-basilgaza]

🎄✨ A Christmas Appeal from Gaza ✨🎄

For many, Christmas is a time of magic, love, and hope. But here in Gaza, where my family and I live, it’s a reminder of all we’ve lost.

This December, as the world celebrates with 🎁 decorations and gifts, my brother Ahmad and I dream of something simpler—a chance to live, learn, and heal.

While others gather around 🍽️ festive tables, my family struggles to find even basic food. While stockings are hung with care 🧦, our shoes are worn from fleeing destruction. And while carols fill the air 🎶, silence hangs heavy in our hearts, broken only by the memories of what we’ve lost.

But we haven’t given up hope. 🌟 Hope is all we have. Ahmad and I have started a campaign to escape to Egypt, continue our education, and rebuild our lives. We need your help to make that dream possible.

This Christmas, I invite you to remember families like mine, who are not asking for gifts 🎁, but for a chance—a chance to learn, thrive, and survive.

👉 Support our campaign: https://gofund.me/32e5e95e

📤 Share our story: Every share helps us reach someone who might lend a hand.

Let’s remind the world that true joy comes not from what we receive, but from what we give. ❤️ Together, we can light a candle of hope 🕯️ in a place that has known only darkness.

✅ Our Fundraiser Vetted by ✅ 🔍 @gazavetters, on the list is (#83) 🔍 @90-ghost here 🔍 by association in this post

[cxrsed-angel]

Once Bitten and Twice Shy

Jackson!Joel Miller x fem!Reader, 18+

summary: Joel is uninterested in holdiday festitvies until he reunites with a familiar face who loves to spread the holiday spirit. Alternatively, Joel the Grinch is reunited with his Martha May Whohiver.

wc: 4k

warnings: Jackson!Joel, unspecified big age gap, smut (unprotected piv sex), fingering, a bit angsty, (sad and lonely old man Joel) the timeline kinda doesn't make sense but its not that important so just ignore it.

a/n: Here's a holiday fic for my last fic of 2024 <3.

Joe hated this time of year. The twinkling of Christmas lights decorated on almost every home and roof in Jackson, lights decorated around light poles, bows around the light poles. The community hosts holiday events for the children, people putting up their homemade holiday decor, and the whole town covered in snow, making it look like a scene from a Christmas movie. It's a time that’s supposed to be joyful, cheerful, and merry, but it was never that for Joel. Not since ‘03, Christmas hasn't felt happy around this time of year. It was always filled with pain, regret, memories he couldn't seem to forget, and mourning the things he’d never experienced.

At first, Christmas and the holiday season, in general, were hard for him after he had lost Sarah. He couldn’t help but think about all the times he had gotten her letters to Santa she had written when she was 3 and 4 or when she was “subtly” hinting at something for Christmas when she got too old for Santa. Or the time she saved up money to buy him a cologne and a new tool belt with the help of Tommy.

After that day, the day he lost her, he ignored anything having to do with the holiday, and this time of year, which wasn't hard to do in QZ, there’s barely any holiday spirit or festive decor, but that was increasingly difficult until he met you. You had gotten paired together for a run because Tess was sick, and ever since then, you were something he couldn’t shake, and you grew closer. For the two and half years he knew you, you had made the Grinch’s heart grow three sizes. He’d never say it, but you'd had let him allow himself to enjoy this time of year.  

You always hung up whatever festive Christmas decorations and winter decor you could find all over your shitty FEDRA apartment. Joel tried too hard to fight it, but the more time he spent with you, the harder that was. He often joked you were one of Santa’s last remaining elves on earth. He spent two Christmases with you. He remembers helping you hang up whatever you couldn’t reach.

“Joel… can you help me hang this nail.. it won't go into this shitty door!… he sees you holding the red, green, and white wreath you had found somewhere, trying to mount it on the shitty, broken, falling apart apartment door. “well I think you need might wreath hanger sweetheart…” he sees confusion flash across your face but only momentarily,” I can't just hang it on a nail…” Joel sighs before taking the wreath and hanging it up. He pretends he doesn’t enjoy your holiday spirit like he doesn't get happy when he hears the records and CDs of whatever holiday music you could scrounge up, like he doesn’t look forward to seeing your festive apartment every time he visits you. 

But that was before. Now, he can't stand the music, the smell of holiday baking, and warm homemade candles. Ellie would joke and call him the Grinch or Scrouge, but that was when Ellie talked to him. Now, he’s lucky if Ellie glances in his direction. But he had no one now, and he could spend time with Tommy and Maria, but since the baby had arrived, it had been hard for him to see Tommy as a dad. Luckily, Tommy knows his brother and tends to give him things to work on to distract himself, especially after he and Elie drifted apart. 

Tommy comes into Joel’s workshop. He sees Joel working, an old Linda Ronstadt CD playing barely audible due to the sound of Joel's woodcutter. Tommy bangs on another table lightly, grabbing Joel’s attention. He stops the woodcutter, looking up at his brother. 

“If it’s about the broken window for Mrs Anderson, I'm working on it,” Joel mutters from behind the woodcutter, starting it again but stopping when Tommy speaks again. 

“No...no, it's not about the window. I need you to do me a favor. Can you show someone to her place? She just got here; it's house #40. I would, but Maria is doing some town stuff, and I gotta watch the baby.” 

Joel sighs, taking off his protective glasses and trading them for his regular black-framed corrective lenses. He moves away from his woodworking table, looking at his younger brother with an unsatisfied stare.

“Now?” Joel grumbles under his breath, obviously annoyed.

“Yes, Joel, now... please,” Tommy asks, begging. He knows that asking Joel to do anything he didn’t want to do after November was a challenge. But Tommy really didn’t have anyone else, and Joel happened to be the closest person to ask for help. 

Joel once again lets out a sigh, once again showing his reaction to being unconvinced. Usually, he wouldn’t care, but now, whenever he's near the front gates, near the most decorated parts of Jackson, it gets hard to breathe. He gets the aching feeling in his heart. He thinks of you more and more, and he wonders if he made a mistake. He starts getting up to follow Tommy out of his shed.

 “Wow got a lady waiting in the snow? Such a gentleman, Tommy.” His voice full of sarcasm as he looks at his brother. 

Tommy lets out a small chuckle, rolling his eyes at Joel’s sarcasm, choosing to ignore it. “After this, you can go back to your woodworking hole for the rest of the day, I promise. It's just one girl; she should be waiting by the front gate. It should take a few minutes. Just be nice and welcoming, and then I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the month.”

“Rest of the damn year,” Joel mutters under his breath, putting on his brown jacket, hat, and gloves, preparing to brace the snow and cold weather. “Gotta be a damn welcoming committee in fucking below 30-something-degree weather,” he mumbles as he walks out of the shed.

Tommy rolls his eyes yet again, hearing Joel's comment, before going in the opposite direction towards his house. As Joel walks down towards the entrance, he sees the decorations filled along Jackson's main road. His thoughts immediately go to you. 

I keep my distance, but you still catch my eye. 

Joel tried his best not to fall for you. He couldn’t love you. Not just because he was afraid of losing you but because you were too young and didn't need his baggage. But that got harder the more time he spent with you, and it worsened around December. Your cheerful smile was contagious. Hope gave him something he hadn’t felt since before the outbreak. Hope. Hope for a future with you. Even if it was in the QZ, you made it look brighter and more positive than it was. It made him love you; if he loves you, it's only a matter of time before he fails you.

One way or another, he can't lose you. Losing Sarah still felt fresh and recent, not 20 years ago. He doesn’t know if he could handle losing you, too, especially because of him. But Joel knows he can't hope, not in this world. It's easier to push you away and make you hate him. When Joel felt these feelings, he did the one thing he knew how to do: create distance. He went from seeing you multiple times a day to maybe once a week. Barely talking to you, he stopped kissing your lips and touched you less, but you still found a way to be around him. You still held his hand, sleeping in the bed next to him. 

“This…ain’t working.” Joel sighs, looking down still. Your back is turned, trying to warm hot chocolate; you managed to persuade him to get on one of his smuggling runs, up on the shitty stove in the QZ. An Ella Fitzgerald Christmas album playing on a CD occasionally having to skip a song cause of its skipping. 

“It's a paper snowflake, Joel. What are you talking about? How hard can it be? If you don’t want to do it, you don’t.” You sound confused but are still focusing on the stove.

 Joel sighed again before looking up at your back. “I ain’t talking about the damn snowflake.” 

It's the tone of his voice that causes you to turn around, the sense of dread in his words, the way he seems almost scared to say them. You turn, looking at him, and he can't even look up to make eye contact.

 “Then what are you talking about, Joel.” 

Joel finally looked up at you, and you knew exactly what he meant wasn't working, "Us. This. Whatever this is, it ain't working.” He got up from the small round wooden dining table.

What do you mean this isn't working? It's been working fine for almost two years, Joel!” 

“Well, it's not working anymore.” 

You look at him before taking the attempt at hot chocolate off the stove, last thing you needed was a fire, but you go back to looking at him for any explanation or further clarification about why this wasn’t working out for him when it felt so right for you. But he never offered one. 

“I can't. It's not….working,” he says slowly, tired. Joel pinches the bridge of his nose. He knows this isn’t easy, but Joel cannot do this anymore. He can't let himself get attached to you. He convinced himself it would be easier in the long run.

He never said anything else. All he did was leave you in your apartment. Leaving you speechless and heartbroken. After that, Joel avoided you, or you were avoiding him, but each day, he saw you less and less until around the first week of January, when he noticed he hadn't seen you around at all. He asked around, even bribing FEDRA guards, and finally, one told him that you had escaped and left town with a group of a few other women. Joel had the realization that he’d probably never see you again. He knew you were strong and capable, especially if you had a group. He wasn't worried about you dying, but he had to kill you off in his brain to move on. Because if you weren't dead, then it gave him hope. 

Losing Sarah felt like strike one for him. The first time he felt his heart became cold and isolated, he lost the ability to smile, laugh, and even care. Until he met you at the QZ, it was hard not to smile around you. For the first time, he felt genuinely happy near you. He enjoyed your presence, the jokes you’d make about his age, and the warmth you brought back into his life. Then he ruined it and messed it up again like he failed Sarah. He failed you and lost it all again. Then Ellie brought it back with her jokes and outlook on life. Then again, he lost it. After that, he decided to give up and live the rest of his life in Jackson, mainly alone. 

Joel finally reached the front gate but didn't see anybody waiting. He looked around until he saw a figure in the barns, near the horses.

 “Tommy’s bright idea of leaving a girl out damn in the cold. Forcing me to be the goddamn welcoming committee, Jackson is small, but it ain't that small. Tommy could've found someone to do this…” He mutters to himself as he approaches the barn. 

Snow crunching under his boots causes you to jump at the sound, accidentally scaring you. He sees the girl turn around and instantly recognizes you before you remember him. He sees your eyes still shining, still young, still….hopeful. Not much has changed physically, but at the same time, he can tell something changed. 

Tell me, baby, do you recognize me?.”

It has been 3 years since you left the QZ since he had broken your heart and made his own even colder. He doesn't know what to say and realizes you don't even recognize him. His hair is longer and grayer now than it was. He has more wrinkles and glasses now. Probably put on more pounds now, having access to meals more consistently, not going on runs,  and having to walk miles every day. He can only imagine your thoughts on why this old man was looking at you in such a way, almost on the verge of tears. 

You reach a hand out to greet him and introduce yourself, hearing your name for the first time outside of his head in years, but he doesn't speak. He knew his voice would give away who he was, and he was scared of your reaction. He didn't know if you would be happy to be reunited or slap him because of the last time you spoke. He takes a deep breath before looking at your hand and then back at your face. Three years later, you didn't change much. You still looked just as beautiful to him as you did those years ago. 

“We…um... have met before.” He speaks slowly, knowing that once you hear his voice, you’ll recognize him. 

The second you hear his voice, you suddenly recognize the man in front of you, and shortly after, all the memories return. Memories of sleeping in Joel’s apartment in the QZ when you would get nightmares, memories of him teaching you how to properly shoot in the woods, memories of the first time you had kissed him. Memories of him ending whatever you two had back in the QZ. It all came back flooding your mind. You didn’t know what to say, react, or feel. You look at him for a bit, unsure what to say, so you say the first thing that comes to mind.

“Joel? You have….um, you have glasses... Now. .” Those were the only words that came out of your mouth, the only sentence your brain could make. He let out a small laugh, happy you didn't slap him and cuss him out. He reaches for the frames. “Yea. It got hard to read tiny fonts, so… found a pair of readers, and there's an old eye doctor here,” Joel says painfully awkwardly, unsure of what to say or do next. A part of him wants to pull you into his arms and apologize for being an idiot all those years ago. More than anything, he wants to kiss you and tell you that he loved you then and never really stopped. 

“Well, um, I can show you to your new place.” He walks you over to the smaller houses since it's just you. 

“So, how long have you been here.” You ask as the two of you continue to walk in the snow. “About not that long, El- um, I had a girl I had to look after, but she’s an adult now and doesn't need me anymore, but it's safe, so I decided to stay.” Joel walks down, noticing the holiday decor. He can't help but point it out. 

“Bet you’d fit right in here and come at the perfect time.” You nod, agreeing, taking in the town's scenery, the lights, the homemade decor, and the children’s drawings, and you smile a bit. 

“Wow, it’s really pretty, much nicer than the QZ. You must be like a Grinch up on top of the mountain around here, huh? " Your joke makes Joel feel at ease. He laughs, looking at you, feeling like no time has passed. He walks further, approaching his house, snow covering the roof, absent of any lights or holiday decorations that the other houses in Jackson have.  

“No, I…join in…occasionally.”  Joel replies very unconvincingly, which makes you laugh as he opens the door, letting you in. 

“Sure, I bet you join all the festivities, Joel.” He leads you into his house, which looks how you would imagine a middle-aged man living alone to look.  You stand a bit awkwardly in his living room, unsure what to do or say, and find it hard to believe Joel was in front of you after all these years. “But if you kissed me now, I know you’d fool me again.”

You don’t know who started it, who leaned in first, who kissed who first. It feels like both lips were drawn to each other like magnets. Joel places his hands around your lower back as you close your eyes. His kiss immediately feels like home, safe and warm. Joel pulls away softly. He looks at you, afraid, like he was dreaming. You look back at him, just unsure. You were half expecting him to say something similar to what he said all those years ago, that he couldn’t do this again, yet your lips clash against each other, messily and desperate for each other. Your hands came to his face, holding his greying beard and pulling him as close as possible. 

He lays you down on his bed, hovering over you, kissing down your neck, pulling your shirt over your head, temporarily removing his lips from yours to take off your shirt. You shift, taking off your old sports bra you’ve had since God knows when. Joel feels what you’re attempting to do. He pulls off it, over your head, before his lips return to yours again. Your hands reach, grabbing up to his brown and grey curls.

“Joel….” you moan on his lips. His hands travel up your chest grabbing, squeezing your boobs, making another moan slip. His hand runs down to your stomach, down to your clothed core, rubbing it slowly.

“Joel, I've missed you so much.” He looks down, nods, and softly raises his hand to your face. He looks at you, and you can still tell he’s hesitated, nervous, even scared. 

“I've missed you too, more than you could know.” He kisses you again, but you pull away, sitting up a bit. He takes off his jacket, tossing it somewhere. His green flannel is next. You start unbuttoning it, but you feel his hands on your wrist, stopping you. Your eyes meet his.

“What…” You look confused as to why he stopped you. He had taken your pants off and wanted to have sex, or so you thought. You look at him, waiting for him to say something, but he never does.

“What, Joel? do you not want to-?” Your eyebrows frown, anxious, worried you had read into something. You had misunderstood. But he cut you off before you could finish your sentence. 

“No, I do. I do. Believe me, I do. It's just been a while since we’ve…since you’ve seen me?” Joel tries to explain, but you still don’t see the problem.

“Okay, but we did have sex back at the QZ….many times, so.. I did see you shirtless. What's wrong?” You sit up fully in his bed. Joel sighs, moving off from on top of you and sitting beside you.

“Yeah, well, that was years ago…when I was probably a few pounds lighter, sweetheart.” You suddenly realize what’s wrong. 

You raise your eyebrows, confused. “Seriously, Joel… you really think I’d judge your body because you're actually getting hot meals daily?” Joel looks at you, and your hands go back to the buttons on his flannel. This time, he lets you. 

“I'm serious, Joel. I really don't give a shit…about any of that.” You reassure him as you push his flannel off his shoulders, seeing the white t-shirt underneath it. Your hands go to the bottom of the shirt. 

“I'm just glad I found you again, and you’re not injured or…” You take a deep breath, thinking about the worst-case scenario. You lift the bottom of his shirt, and he helps you remove it.

He nods as you take his shirt off and kiss his chest. “Just glad you're safe, Joel. I don’t really give a shit if you look a bit different.” 

He lays on his bed, pulling you down on top of him, kissing you, his arm around your waist, pulling you closer against him.

“Glad you’re safe too, babygirl,” he speaks softly in between kisses, his voice is deep.

He reaches between your two bodies, unbuckling his belt and tossing it aside. Your hands goes to his jeans, unzipping them and tugging them off. Joel kicks the jeans off the bed. You feel his cock through his boxer shorts against you. You look down seeing the sizable bulge, you can’t remember if he’s always been this big, but he looks very big. Borderline massive, honestly. 

“Did your dick..grow, or is my memory just that bad?” you ask Joel. He laughs a bit, thinking you’re joking. But you’re not trying to rack your brain to remember if he’s always been this…thick.

 You hear him chuckle a bit. “Last I checked, it was the same, sweetheart.” you reach your hand on the waistband, slowly pulling his boxers down his thighs, watching his hard cock spring onto his stomach.  

Joel's larger hand reaches over yours, guiding it to his cock to jerk him off. You kiss his lips as you move your hand a bit faster. Joel moans against your lips before he moves away. Joel slowly tugs your underwear down your legs, and you kick them off, watching him grab the fabric off, tossing it with the gathering piles of clothes forming onto his bedroom floor.  Joel moves his hand off of his cock 

“Sweetheart, can I fuck you? Please, honey, I gotta be inside you.”

Joel slowly inserts his fingers inside you, feeling the wetness. His fingers curl up, fucking his fingers deep inside. Your head goes back against his pillow, feeling his finger's pleasure in ways yours haven't been able to, reaching places that you haven't been able to reach since you left. His fingers are larger and thicker than yours, making your eyes roll back. You moan out his name, missing the feeling of his name on your lips. You nod repeatedly. 

“ Please. Please. Joel. Please fuck me. I need you.” You moan, grabbing his arm as he thrusts his fingers deeper inside you. 

“Yea? Want me to fuck you.” His fingers slow down, and he presses his nose against your neck. You nod again, letting a moan slip out as he kisses down your neck. 

He moves his fingers, moving you closer and slowly pushing his thick cock inside of you. Slowly pushing the tip of his dick further inside.

You've slept with Joel numerous times in the QZ, he’s fucked you more than he can count, but this was different. You feel him slowly thrusting deeper inside you. Your nails dig into his back as you he fucks you, his cock reaching deeper inside you. This was passionate and slow. The making love you’ve read about. 

” Joel.. Joel. You feel so good.” you moan, feeling him fuck you deep and hard but still slow, like he was savoring, enjoying this moment.

“Missed you, baby. Missed you so fucking much thought I… 'd never see you again.” he looks at you watching your face frown, scrunching up in pleasure. Your eyes close, but he can’t take his eyes off of you. He doesn’t want to miss a moment, miss any more time of being with you, seeing you, touching you. It feels like no time has passed. He still knows your body like the back of his hand. Your moans fill the room. He’s memorized by you. he feels as if he closes his eyes, he’ll open them, and you’ll be gone, that this was a dream.

Your eyes flutter open, and you look up at Joel, pulling him closer. He looks down at you fucking deeper inside, and you feel the pleasure building up until you reach your release gripping onto his shoulders, your moans grow louder. 

“So close. Please, Joel, wanna come. Wanna come with you.” You whine, pleading with Joel as he fucks you deeper, nodding.

“Can tell you’re close, baby. Look so pretty like this full my cock.”

 He reaches between the two of you, rubbing your clit until you cum, moaning, crying out his name loudly. Joel is glad he didn't have any neighbors close enough to hear.

“Joel! Joel!” Fuck!” Joel watches are you come undone on his dick, the prettiest sight he’s ever seen. His thrusts speed up, not far behind you. Surprised he even lasted this long, considering he can't remember the last time he had fucked anything that wasn't his hand. “Where you want it darling,” he grunts between his moans. You barely register what he’s asking you properly fucked out. You whine at the overstimulating sensation of his cock fucking your sensitive hole. You open your eyes, looking up at him. 

“Inside…please, Joel want it inside me.” Joel uses every inch of his restraint to not come to the sound of your words, your begging. He shakes his head no. He had no intention of becoming a father of a newborn again in this lifetime, especially at this age. 

“You know I can't.” You whine, disappointed a bit, minds still a bit foggy from your orgasms. You look at Joel. 

“Don’t care, Joel.” He nods again, thrusting a few more times, moaning more before pulling out, cumming onto your stomach. He breathes heavily, looking at you, and he slowly moves from on top of you going to his bathroom. He grabs a towel, cleaning you off before joining you back in his bed. You instantly move closer, laying against his chest, and he puts an arm around you, kissing your lips once again. He looks at you for a bit before breaking the silence. 

“I love you.” The second he says those three words, you feel the air come out of your lungs. You didn’t know what to say or how to respond. You look at Joel, seeing the vulnerability in his eyes. He was telling the truth. You look back at him, trying to start your brain back up. You smile, nodding, knowing how hard it must’ve been for him to say those words. God knows it’s probably been 20 years since, yet here he was saying it to you.

“I love you too, Joel. I always have. I have never stopped.” You look back at him. He softly kisses your lips.

“I think they’re having hot chocolate and cookies or something in the square, " Joel says nonchalantly, sounding uninterested. Looking at you, he pauses before continuing. Maybe even an old holiday movie or…something like that.”

You can't help but smile widely as he mentions the holiday activity going on in Jackson. Was Joel actually mentioning something holiday-related?

You look at him, still smiling. “If you want to ask me, old man, you gotta say it.” You tease. All he manages is an eye roll before sighing. 

“Would. You like to. get hot chocolate and watch an holiday movie sweetheart.” joel asks cracking a smile as his hands rubs your back softly. 

“I'll give it to someone special.” 

[usomads]

Under the Mistletoe // Jimmy Uso x Jey Uso x Reader

Author’s Note -> Strap in folks, this is a long one 😅 I may have gone a little overboard with this one but hey, it’s the holidays and I’m in a giving mood 😂 anyways, I hope y’all enjoy this and as always happy reading!!! 

Plot -> A holiday tradition puts you in an interesting position with your future brother-in-law Jey, and your fiancé, Jimmy. Will the three of you brush past it like it’s nothing, or will the tension consume you?

Pairings -> Jimmy Uso x Jey Uso x Fem!Reader

Warnings -> Cursing, Fingering, Spanking, Oral Sex (M!Receiving, F!Receiving), P in V, Double Penetration, Threesome (M/M/F), Creampie, Not Proofread, MDNI

Word Count -> 4.0k

Holiday parties were a specialty in the Fatu/Anoa’i household. Every year, the Samoan Dynasty threw an extravagant party on Christmas Eve to celebrate with their closest family and friends, and you being engaged to Jonathan meant you would be there no matter what. Most people would dread the amount of time they spent with their future in-laws but you loved the get-togethers the family would put on, especially the annual Christmas party, being that this was your third year in attendance. You loved it so much, in fact, that you bought yourself a brand new dress just for this occasion: a red corset-style bodycon dress, made in velvet, with a plunge neckline and a thigh-high slit to match. You paired your new dress with gold jewelry and a matching pair of red velvet heels, your hair falling down your back in wavy curls. You looked elegant and classy with a dash of seductiveness, not enough to bare everything to all of the other attendants but just enough to turn heads in the right way. Adjusting the strap of your heel and grabbing a handbag from your closet, you made your way downstairs to Jonathan, who had been patiently waiting for you to get ready. He adjusted his watch and smoothed out his all black suit before watching you descend down the stairs, a look of adoration and desire evident in his eyes.

“Damn, baby…” he walked over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist, “you sure we have to go? ‘Cuz I’d have a much better time here at home.” He moved a curl to the side and pressed kisses to the side of your neck, making your eyes flutter shut before lightly pushing his chest.

“Babe, no! We have to be there tonight, we don’t need your mama and Kishi gettin’ all mad at us because you can’t keep it in your pants, mister.” You teased, shooting him a wink as he pouts. 

“But-”

“But nothing! We’re going, and if you’re good maybe we can resume this when we get home,” you bite your lip, holding back a smile as his eyes light up- his hopes of getting some tonight going up with your words. “Now c’mon, we gotta go before we end up bein’ late.” He then rushes to grab your coat, making you giggle as you put on the fabric over your dress and heading outside to the car.

The party had now been in full swing for about an hour now, and you spent that time sipping on a glass of champagne and socializing with friends and family about your upcoming wedding, life updates, and all the usual small talk that was had at these types of events. Eventually, though, your glass of champagne was empty and you needed another. A waiter came by offering to refill it for you but you declined, wanting to move around a little bit so you walked to the kitchen yourself to refill your glass. After pouring yourself another flute of champagne you decided to make your way back, nearly bumping into Joshua, Jonathan’s twin brother, in the entryway of the kitchen. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I totally wasn’t paying attention.” You stammered, trying to apologize.

“Don’t worry about it, Y/N, it’s gonna take a lot more than you to knock me on my ass.” You laugh in response, relaxing a bit in his presence as his eyes wander down your body. There was no denying you looked incredible tonight, and your ensemble had his mind racing like so many times before. He would take those thoughts with him to the grave because if anyone found out, if Jon found out, about how bad he wanted to rip Y/N’s dress off of her body and fuck her against the nearest wall… well, he’s not entirely sure what would happen. So instead of falling deeper into his imagination he focuses his attention back on her face, engaging in simple conversation and definitely not thinking about something else. 

The two of you talk for a while about random things, letting the conversation take y’all away for a while until you’re interrupted by Jonathan walking from the living room into the kitchen.

“Y’all gonna head in here for the gift exchange or- oh, what do we have here?” He looks above you two then smirks, his eyes darkening slightly. Both yours and Josh’s eyes follow and notice something hanging above you- mistletoe. Your eyes grow wide and Josh holds his hands up in surrender, taking a step back.

“Aye uce, we were just talkin’. Ain’t nothin’ goin’ on here, bro.” 

“Jon, I-” you stuttered, still in shock, “it’s really not what it looks like, like he said, we were talking and…”

“I know, I know,” he laughs, leaning against the wall, “but… it is tradition. So you know what that means…” Josh and you stand in shock, still not quite sure if Jon was joking or not. You make eye contact, feeling heavy tension between you and him as you both remain standing under the hanging plant.

“Um… uce, are you saying that we should, you know…”

“Why not? It’s tradition, you can’t break that shit. Especially in this household? That shit would never fly, uce. I’m not stoppin’ y’all, might as well.” Jon shrugs, his eyes dark with lust and a hint of excitement, and that’s when you realize- he’s dead serious. You swallow hard and turn to Josh, who’s already eyeing you closely. You shake out a breath, your voice only finding a whisper.

“A-are you okay with this? W-we don’t h-have to if you d-don’t want to..” your hands fidget with your dress as you look down, embarrassed. 

“Are you?”

“I- yeah, I mean it’s just a kiss… right?”

“Yeah…” Josh trails off, “just a kiss…”

“Y’all just gonna stand there or are we doin’ this?” You snap your head back, finding his eyes for permission as he looks at you. “Y/N, baby, it’s okay, I promise. I’m not gonna be mad or anything. I just wanna see somethin’...” Your brows furrow in response as you feel Josh reach for your hand, turning your attention back to him. 

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to, it’s entirely up to you, Y/N… your move.”

“I-,” you breathe out, “I’ll do it. It’s just a kiss…” You notice Josh’s eyes flicker with an emotion you hadn’t really seen on him before. Disappointment, maybe? The thought leaves your mind as quickly as it comes in, his hand reaching for your waist and gently pulling you closer to him- almost hesitant, like he’s still unsure if he’s crossing the line or not. You look up at him, your heart racing as he stares down at you. Are we really about to do this? 

Josh leans down as your eyes close, leaning into him as his lips brush yours. They’re soft as they touch yours, lightly hovering before pressing onto your own. He’s a great kisser, his lips massaging yours gently but passionately until you sense him holding back- like he wants to kiss you harder, deeper, but knows he can’t. After a few seconds he pulls away, your eyes remaining closed as you take in deep breaths, still trying to grasp the fact that you just kissed your fiancé’s brother. You open your eyes to Josh’s staring into your own, his now intense gaze staring right back at you. You bite your lip as you look at him, trying not to crumble under his gaze.

“That’s all you got?” Jonathan breaks the silence, as you both turn to look at him. “Y’all can do better than that. Don’t act like y’all don’t feel that shit too. I been seein’ the way look at each other, you don’t gotta hide it. Go ‘head, try it again but this time do it like you mean it. And after that, we can see how far we wanna go.”

“Uce, you sayin’ that…”

“Josh, I’m not stupid. You don’t do a great job of hiding it at all. Shit, when I first came in here you looked like you was wantin’ to bend her over the counter and drill her shit in front of everybody,” you gasped, a rosy blush rising to your cheeks. “And don’t give me that look either, Y/N, I saw you lookin’ him up and down earlier. You want him too. So let’s make this interesting, hmm?” He paused, walking over to you two. “Honestly? I can’t lie and say I’ve never thought about it. So if you two want it, and I want it, then why don’t we just go all the way?” You and Josh stand frozen, eyes wide as you stare at Jon. Jon’s lips turn to a devilish smirk, looking at you both. “Do it again, and what happens afterward happens. I wanna see where this goes, and I know y’all do too.”

You bite your lip, looking back at Josh as he watches you take your lip between your teeth. Josh and Jon make eye contact, having a silent conversation before Jon nods at him. With the confirmation he needed Josh pulls you to his chest, tucking a hair behind your ear. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this, Y/N.”

“M-me too.” You blush as his hand brushes your cheek, sending sparks through you as he pulls you in and kisses you hard. This time, he’s more desperate. Your head spins as his lips massage yours with desperation, hunger, like he’s been starved his entire life. You kiss him back with the same urgency, wrapping your arms around his neck and tangling your fingers in his curls as the kiss deepens. Suddenly the both of you pull away, gasping for air as your lips tingle from the sensation- wanting more, needing more.

“There we go, now that-” Jon is cut off by someone yelling into the kitchen, letting the three of you know the gift exchange was about to begin. “We’ll come back to this later, yeah? As much as I’d love to stay here, we got gifts to open. C’mon, y’all.” He walks back into the living room as you join his side, looking behind you at Josh who gives you a wink before the three of you rejoin the festivities.

The gift exchange went without a hitch, only some occasional glances shared between the three of you that the others were too distracted to notice. Usually that would be the end of it but someone suggested watching a Christmas movie to end the night, which had you sharing the couch between Jon and Josh. You were anxious, but also excited? It wasn’t out of the ordinary to share a couch with them but after the events that unfolded, you were looking at this completely differently. Blankets were passed around to everyone which meant the three of you were sharing one, only fueling your jitteriness. The lights were turned off and the movie started, the only thing illuminating the living room being the large TV.

About halfway through the movie Josh had adjusted himself to where his thigh was now touching yours, and Jon’s hand was sitting on your other thigh. You glanced at Josh out of the corner of your eye, his eyes glazed over as he stared down at you and smirked. Jon picked up on this, making eye contact with Josh and slowly sliding his hand down and in between your thighs. You shuddered at the movement as you felt another hand, Josh’s, do the same. 

“Focus on the movie, baby,” Jon whispered in your ear, “gotta be good for us if you wanna get what you want. I need you quiet, got it?” You nodded eagerly, adjusting to spread your legs for them- resting a leg on each of them. Josh swallowed, suppressing the groan that wanted to escape his throat as the twins inched their hands closer to your aching core. The two cursed under their breath, realizing you werent wearing any panties underneath your dress as you felt their fingers graze your wetness. Jon found your clit first, rubbing slow circles while Josh’s teased your entrance, sliding a digit in as your head fell back and rested on the back of the couch. Jon’s free hand moved the blanket to shield any prying eyes, although no one could see due to the darkness in the room, as the two men played with your pussy underneath it. You were biting onto your lip hard enough to draw blood, trying desperately not to cry out in pleasure and draw attention to the three of you as they continued. 

“Fuck Y/N, you’re so tight… can only imagine how you feel squeezin’ my dick, baby.” Josh mutters in your ear, his tone making you gasp quietly. He chuckles at your response, moving his fingers faster and watching your face contort at his and Jon’s actions.

“Whatchu think, ma, should he come home with us tonight?” Jon whispered loud enough for only you three to hear and you nodded, looking at the two with pleading eyes. 

“Don’t worry, baby girl, imma be there. Promise.” You sigh in content at Josh’s words, your eyes flickering back to the screen as the ending scene begins to play. The other two notice, sharing a look then removing their hands but not before tasting your juices on their fingers. You watch as they bring their digits to their lips, winking at you as the lights turn on and the guests begin to depart- the three of you doing the same.

The car ride was silent, Jon occasionally sneaking glances in your direction as you desperately pressed your thighs together. You continuously looked in the rearview mirror, watching as Josh’s car followed you home. Finally you had made it, pulling into the driveway with Josh pulling in behind you. The three of you got out of your vehicles at the same time, trying to remain calm and not rush to the front door as Jonathan punched in the code to unlock it. The door was opened, as the three of you tumbled inside. You removed your coat and the men their suit jackets as Josh gripped you from behind, latching his lips to your neck as Jon kissed your lips full of fervor. Josh had unzipped your dress from behind, allowing it to fall to the floor as you stood completely exposed to the twins. Both groaned at the sight, their hands searching your skin desperately for relief. You felt Josh’s hard-on press into your backside as you leaned into him, pushing back on him enough to elicit moans from the man’s lips. Your fingers fidgeted with the buttons on Jon’s shirt and removed the material from his torso, your hands gliding along his chest as you continued to kiss him. 

“Go upstairs and get on the bed, me and Josh will be up in a second.” You nodded excitedly as you rushed up the steps, Josh smacking your ass as you moved past him. You yelped in excitement as he chuckled, watching you ascend up the stairs. You made it to yours and Jon’s room and did as you were told, laying down on the bed and anxiously waiting for them to get there. Finally you heard them coming up, their voices low as they discussed what you assumed were ground rules for this. They entered the room, both now only in their boxers as you waited patiently for them to join you. You sat up as they got onto the bed, laying down on either side with you in between them. You went to Jon first, removing his hard cock from his boxers and spitting on it before wrapping your lips around the tip. As you swirled your tongue on him and bobbed your head you also took Josh’s cock in your hand and stroked him, Josh hissing as your hand wrapped around his shaft. You alternated between the two, taking turns sucking both men and making sure both got equal attention. 

“Shit, ma, you’re takin’ us so fuckin’ well,” Josh moaned, his head resting on the headboard.

“Fuck, baby, look at you takin’ us both…” Jon moaned in agreement. “She deserves a reward, don’t she, uce?” Josh nodded in agreement as you looked up at him, his eyes glazed as you took as much of him as you could down your throat. He lifted your head up from his cock, his fingers resting under your chin. 

“Go ‘head and lay back, baby. It’s our turn to take care of you.” You obliged, laying on your back as the two men stood up, stroking themselves. 

“You want Josh to eat you, ma? Should we let him taste you?” You whined in response.

“P-please…” Jon nodded at Josh who kneeled down between your legs, planting wet kisses along the inside of your thighs. Jon brought his cock back to your lips, you opening them for him to slide his cock along your tongue as Josh placed a kiss on your throbbing clit. You arch your back, moaning around Jon’s dick as you continued to suck him. Josh moaned into your pussy, his tongue lapping at your folds as he brought a hand to your breast, kneading it in his palm.

“Tastes so fuckin’ sweet, fuck, could eat you all the time,” Josh muttered against you as you bucked your hips, eager for more. He chuckled, bringing his free hand to your folds and rubbing the skin.

“Be patient, Y/N, imma give you what you want..” You moaned once more, Jon now thrusting himself inside your mouth as Josh wrapped his lips around your clit and pushed two fingers past your entrance. You cried out as they stretched you, pumping inside you at a fast pace as he continued biting and sucking on your clit. You were already close to cumming, your walls tightening around his fingers as you moaned profusely around Jon’s cock, him knowing you were close.

“You gonna cum for Josh, baby? Gonna let him see how pretty you look cumming all over his face?” You whined, now bucking your hips to match Josh’s movements. “Atta girl, you can cum, baby. Let him see you.” Your eyes shot open and looked at Josh, watching as he ate you like he hadn’t eaten in days. That was enough to send you over the edge, releasing Jon’s cock from your mouth as you moaned Josh’s name and came for him. He cleaned you up as you came down, lifting his head to reveal your juices all over his face and beard. 

“Goddamn, uce, you wasn’t lyin’... she’s fuckin’ incredible.”

“And you haven’t even felt her pussy wrapped ‘round your shit yet,” Jon looked down at you, still breathing heavily but aching for more. “You wanna let him feel you, baby?”

“Fuck yes, please, baby…”

“You heard her, you got first. Remember what I told you though…”

“Yeah, yeah, no cumming inside her, I know…” you unconsciously pouted hearing that, feeling a little bit of disappointment.

“But- but I’m on birth control… please? Just this once? I just…”

“You what?” Josh asked, Jon now staring intensely at the two of you. “What, you want us both to fill that pretty pussy of yours? Hmm?”

“Well… that would be nice but I kinda had something else in mind…” 

“And what’s that?” Jon asked you gently, playing with your hair.

“I, um, I saw something a few days ago but I was thinking… I know we don’t do, uh- anal that often but… in this video she was getting fucked by two guys at the same time… like one was doing it normally and the other was, um…”

Josh wore a shocked expression, 1. not expecting you to watch double penetration videos and 2. definitely not expecting you to want that. Jon, on the other hand, was intrigued.

“You sure you can handle that, princess? That’s some pretty intense stuff… I-”

“Fuck yes,” you responded, a little too fast. “I mean, yeah, I think so. I just wanna try it, you know, see what it’s like…”

“That good with you, uce?”

“Yeah, I mean- shit, if y’all are down then I am…” Josh replied, “You wanna lead the way, princess?” You sat up quickly, the excitement and adrenaline taking over as you pushed Josh by his chest to lay on his back so you could straddle him. You took his cock in your hands, guiding it to your entrance and sinking down slowly. You gasped at the size, feeling your walls mold around his shaft and wrap around him tightly as you sat completely on him. Josh moaned loudly, his hands immediately finding your hips as you began to grind on him. He guided your movements and helped you find rhythm, allowing you to pick up your speed and bounce on him. Your thighs connected with his over and over, him now bringing his hands to your ass. He kneaded the flesh in his hands before smacking your ass, moans falling from your lips as each slap filled you with a mix of pain and pleasure. Behind you, Jon was applying lubricant and stroking himself at the sight before him. He had imagined a scenario like this many times before, but none of them compared to what was happening now. Seeing you handle them both so well only turned him on more as he situated himself behind you, teasing you with his tip from behind.

“You’re sure about this, baby? It’s not gonna be too much?”

“N-no please, n-need you both.” You stammered out in between moans as he groaned at your response, his tip at your entrance before pushing himself inside your ass. You cried out, tears brimming your eyes as he pushed his way inside, not used to the feeling. Josh pulled you down to his chest, peppering you with kisses to help you through it as Jon fully entered you. He gave you a few moments to adjust, working at your pace, but eventually the initial pain subsided and you were nodding at the two of them to move.

You had no words to describe how this felt, only loud moans as the two men fucked both of your holes- their moans combining with yours and filling the room. Both of them picked up their pace and were drilling into you, using you as their personal fuck toy, and you loved every second of it.

“O-oh my g-god, fuck, p-please d-don’t stop…” you cried out, “s-so fuckin’ g-good…”

“Yeah, you like that, baby?” Jon grunted. “You love it, don’t you? Being fucked stupid by both of us at the same time? You’re taking us so well, baby…”

“Mmm, I- I l-love it…”

“S-shit, ma, look so pretty all fucked out f’us,” Josh moaned in your ear as he kissed your neck, “you gonna cum for us, baby girl? I feel you squeezin’ me, I know you’re close…”

“I- I-”

“I know, baby, I know,” Jon moaned, “I’m there too, mama, cum for us, princess. Let go all over his dick like a good girl.”

You convulse between them, your orgasm coming at you in full force as your pussy tightens around Josh, urging him to follow suit. Both men cum inside you with loud moans, filling you completely with their seed. All three of you ride out your orgasms, finding your sense of reality and coming back down as you catch your breath. After a few moments they both pull out, the three of you laying side by side as their cum drips out of you and onto the sheets.

“How you feelin’, baby? You good?” Jon asks, turning over and brushing your hair out of your face.

“Never better,” you breathed out.

“Shit, uce, I’m standin’ under every damn mistletoe I can find to get that shit again,” Josh laughed, you and Jon laughing with him as the three of you slowly drifted off to sleep.

[rafesbabygirlx]

6 𝑫𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔 🎄 𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒆 𝑪𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒐𝒏

𝙳𝚊𝚢 3 - 𝚂𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚍 𝙸𝚗 - 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙿𝚘𝚐𝚞𝚎!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝚂𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚜𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚖, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚏𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚗, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚖 𝚑𝚘𝚠𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎. 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚢-𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚌𝚘𝚊 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚐𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚏 "𝚃𝚛𝚞𝚝𝚑 𝚘𝚛 𝙳𝚊𝚛𝚎" 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚒𝚡 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚒𝚌𝚢 𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝙰𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚍𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚖 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚊 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚍𝚛𝚘𝚙 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚗 𝚞𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚗𝚎𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐.

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚕 (𝚖 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐) 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚛𝚢, 𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚠𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕, 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚝 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢

𝙰/𝙽- 𝙸 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚊𝚝 3𝚊𝚖 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚜𝚘 𝙸'𝚖 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚏 𝚒𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚕

The wind howled outside, shaking the cabin as snow piled higher against the windows. The storm had come in fast, trapping you and Rafe inside while Sarah, Topper, and Kelce were still out, struggling to make their way back. The thought of being stuck here alone with Rafe Cameron hadn’t been on your list of plans for the weekend.  

Rafe made it abundantly clear he wasn’t thrilled about your presence, brushing off your attempts at conversation with snide comments. You’d only come because Sarah begged you to, not wanting to be the only girl on a trip with her brother and his friends. Now, the storm has forced you into an unexpected standoff with the Kook prince himself. You had known them since you were little. Despite being a Pogue from the cut, your dad played an important role in Cameron Development. He just refused to move from where he and your mom were raised. You’d learn more life lessons on the cut, you’d learn the importance of work, and you’d learn how to take care of yourself. You were more well off than your friends, but just from your location alone, the title and the reputation still stook.

The power had gone out hours ago, leaving the cabin cloaked in shadows. You had spent most of your time alone avoiding each. But since the only light and warmth now came from the flickering fire in the family room, casting golden glow across the room, you two ended up sitting together on the couch. Heavy blankets were draped over both of you as you sat on opposite ends of the couch, nursing mugs of whiskey-laced hot cocoa.  

The silence between you was uneasy, filled only by the crackle of the fire and the relentless wind outside. The tension was thick, though whether it stemmed from genuine animosity or something else entirely, you couldn’t quite tell.  

Rafe glanced at you over the rim of his mug, his expression unreadable. “Looks like it’s just you and me tonight,” he said finally, his tone edged with something you couldn’t place. Looking down at your phone, you noticed Sarah had texted you and Rafe that the group was just going to stay at a motel closer to town. It was impossible for them to make it back to the remote cabin. 

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the way his voice sent a shiver down your spine. “Lucky me,” you muttered, taking a sip of your drink. The corner of his mouth twitched, and for a moment, the storm outside seemed to quiet, as if the real storm was brewing between the two of you.  

“Truth or Dare?” Rafe had proposed after a long stretch of silence,, his voice carrying that infuriatingly smug tone he always seemed to use around you. You agreed reluctantly, suspecting he’d use the game to tease you. 

It started out innocent enough. Although it’s truth or dare, all you keep throwing at each other is truth. “What’s your favorite food?” “What’s your favorite color?” 

The fire crackled softly in the quiet cabin, the golden glow of the flames flickering against the walls. Outside, the storm continued to rage, wind howling as snow battered the windows. Rafe stretched his legs out lazily, his eyes fixed on you with a smirk as he swirled the whiskey in his mug.  

“Alright,” he said, breaking the silence, “truth or dare?”  

You raised a brow, sipping your cocoa. “Truth. I’m not about to trust you with a dare.”  

Rafe chuckled, the sound low and almost taunting. “Fair enough. What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done?”  

You thought for a moment, biting your lip. “Probably sneaking into the country club with Sarah one night to swim in the pool. Security almost caught us.”  

Rafe leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Not bad for a pogue,” he teased. “Your turn.”  

You smirked. “Truth or dare?”  

“Truth,” he replied easily, his gaze not wavering from yours.  

“What’s the most trouble you’ve ever gotten into?”  

Rafe tilted his head, pretending to think. “Define trouble,” he said with a smirk.  

“Something that could’ve actually gotten you locked up,” you clarified, rolling your eyes.  

“Fine,” he said, his tone growing more serious. “Got into it with some guy at a party. Things got... messy. Cops came, but my dad made it all go away.” He leaned back, his expression unreadable. “Your turn. Truth or dare?”  

“Truth,” you answered quickly, wary of what he might come up with.  

“What’s the kinkiest thing you’ve ever done?” he asked, his smirk returning, but this time it felt heavier, more charged.  

You felt your cheeks heat up, the firelight only making it worse. “Bold question,” you muttered.  

“I’m waiting,” he said, leaning back and giving you a look that was both smug and daring.  

You crossed your arms. “Skinny dipping counts, right?”  

Rafe laughed, shaking his head. “Weak answer.”  

“Alright, your turn,” you said, ignoring his jab. “Truth or dare?”  

“Truth,” he said again, his voice dropping slightly.  

“What would you do right now if no one could stop you?”  

His eyes locked onto yours, the tension thick enough to cut. He leaned forward again, his elbows resting on his knees as he let the question hang in the air. “You really want to know, princess?”  

You nodded, holding your ground despite the flutter in your chest.  

“I’d warm you up, for starters,” he said, his voice low and deliberate, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips, as he reaches for your hand, stroking it gently.. Your heart skipped. His challenge hung in the air, and the storm outside seemed to intensify as if it sensed the shift between you. He began to tug on the hand he was rubbing.  

“Fine,” you said, trying to sound unaffected, though your voice wavered slightly. You moved over to his side of the couch and hesitated for a moment before settling yourself across his lap.  

His hands immediately found your hips, steadying you. “Comfortable?” he asked, his tone laced with mockery, though his grip was firm and grounding.  

You glared at him. “Your turn,” you said quickly. “I dare you to kiss me.”  

“You didn’t ask me truth or dare,” Rafe’s smirk returned, but there was something softer beneath it this time. He leaned in, his breath brushing your cheek before his lips met yours. The kiss started slow, almost tentative, but it deepened quickly, the heat between you burning away any remaining tension.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his voice a low rasp. “I dare you to suck my cock.”  

You wasted no time sinking to the floor in front of him. Your hands on each of his thighs, moving up to reach the button of his jeans. You open them and tug his pants down his legs. You sit in between his wide spread legs and palm him through his boxers. You can’t believe how big he feels. You really never pictured him in that way and now your mouth is watering at the thought of it. Before you can do anything else, Rafe grabs your chin and leans over you. 

“Open,” commanding as he runs his thumb over your bottom lip. 

You comply and he spits onto your tongue. “Just making sure you know your place here, sweetheart. Swallow.” He leans back and you move to pull his boxers down.

You take his base in your hand and kiss his tip. Using your lips to smear his precum down his length. He’s already shifting above you, throwing his head back on the couch. He grabs a handful of your hair, squeezing it tightly when you move your head lower taking in all of him. 

“Shit that’s fucking good. Taking in all of me like a good little slut. Keep your eyes on me.” He looks down at you with a hazy look and you stare straight into his eyes as you begin to bob your head. 

As you continue to slowly take him all the way again, he starts to breathe heavily, his chest rising and falling rapidly. His grip on your hair tightens, and he pulls your head back, exposing your neck. He leans forward, his lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

"Fuck," Rafe whispers, his voice husky with desire. "Your mouth feels amazing."

You look up at him, your eyes locked onto his, and whisper, "I'm just getting started."

Rafe's eyes flash with excitement, and he pulls your head back down, his hips thrusting gently against your mouth. You feel his warm breath on your skin as he whispers, "Deeper, please. Take me deeper."

You oblige, moving your lips and tongue in sync with his movements, creating a sensual rhythm. His precum mixes with your saliva, creating a slippery texture that allows your lips to glide effortlessly up and down his length.

"Ah, yeah," Rafe groans, his body tensing. "Just like that. Don't stop."

You feel his muscles coiling with anticipation, as he struggles to maintain control. His hand in your hair pulls you closer, deepening the connection between you. You feel his tip hitting the back of your throat, and you relax, allowing him to slide in further.

Rafe's groans grow louder, and his body starts to tremble, signaling that he's on the edge, teetering between pleasure and release. He pulls you off of him, "I...I don't want to come yet," he whispers, his voice strained. "I want to savor this moment, feel your mouth on me for just a little longer."

You look up at him, your eyes sparkling with amusement, and whisper, "We'll see about that."

You continue to tease Rafe, your lips and tongue working in tandem to drive him closer to the edge. He's panting heavily now, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggles to maintain control.

"Please…" he whispers, his voice barely audible. "...J-Just a little longer."

You slow down your movements, taking your time to savor the moment. Rafe's eyes flash with frustration, and he tries to thrust his hips forward, seeking more friction. He knows what he asked but your mouth just feels too good to stop. But you're ready for him, and you hold him back, your hands grasping his hips to keep him in place.

"Patience," you whisper, your breath hot against his skin. "This is what you wanted, just a little more time feeling me."

Rafe groans, his body trembling with anticipation. You can feel his muscles coiling, you can feel the internal battle he’s having with this moment. He wants to give in so bad. 

And then, in a flash of movement, you take him deep, your lips wrapping around his length as you swallow him whole. Rafe's eyes go wide, and he lets out a loud groan, his body shuddering as he loses control. You continue to deep throat him as he squirms beneath you. 

"I'm...I'm coming," he whispers, his voice strained.

You feel his release building, his body tensing as he prepares to let go. And then, in a burst of heat and sensation, he's coming, his length pulsing as he empties himself into your mouth.

You swallow, feeling his warmth spread through you. Rafe's body relaxes, those muscles uncoiling as he collapses back onto the couch. He's panting heavily, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggles to catch his breath.

You pull back, your lips releasing his length as you look up at him. Rafe's eyes are closed, his face relaxed in a mask of satisfaction. You smile to yourself, feeling a sense of pride and accomplishment.

"Wow," Rafe whispers, his voice barely audible. "That was...wow."

You lean forward, your lips brushing against his ear. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," you whisper.

Rafe's eyes flicker open, and he looks at you. "I more than enjoyed it," he whispers. "I needed that. I’ve been dying for you to do that."

You smile, feeling a sense of connection with him. "I'm also glad I could finally give it to you," you whisper.

Rafe's gaze holds yours, and for a moment, you just look at each other, the only sound is the heavy breathing and the beating of your hearts. And then, without a word, Rafe reaches out, his arms wrapping around you as he pulls you close.

You feel his warmth, his body heat radiating into you as he holds you tight. You wrap your arms around him, holding him close as you both just breathe.

He takes a deep breath, and then, without warning, he stands up, lifting you with him. You feel a rush of excitement as he spins you around.

You feel his fingers tracing down the sides of your body, sending shivers down it. He reaches the hem of your shirt and lifts it up, pulling it over your head. You feel a rush of cool air on your skin as he discards it, and then his hands are on your breasts, grasping them firmly.

Rafe's fingers squeeze your nipples, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. He leans forward, his lips closing around one of your nipples, sucking gently. Your legs go weak and you feel a moan building in your throat as he teases your nipple, his tongue flicking back and forth.

His hands move to your pants, unbuttoning them and pulling them down. You feel his fingers tracing down your thighs, sending shivers down your legs. He kicks off his own pants, and you feel his cock pressing against your ass.

Rafe spins you around, pulling you down to the couch with him. His hands grasping your hips as he turns you to face away from him. You feel his cock pressing against your entrance, and then he's lifting you up, sinking you down onto his length. You feel a rush of pleasure as he fills you, his cock stretching you wide.

As you settle onto his cock, Rafe's hands move to your hips, grasping them firmly. He starts to move you, lifting you up and down as you ride him reverse cowgirl style. You feel his cock sliding in and out of you, the friction building a fire in your belly.

You start to move on your own, your hips rocking back and forth as you ride Rafe's cock. His hands guide you, helping you find a rhythm that drives you both wild. You feel his cock hitting your g-spot, sending waves of pleasure through you.

As you ride him, Rafe's lips are on your back, his tongue tracing up and down your spine. You feel his breath hot against your skin. His hands are on your breasts, squeezing your nipples and sending jolts of pleasure through you.

You're lost in the sensation, your body moving on its own as you ride Rafe's cock. The room around you fades away, leaving only the two of you, lost in the intensity of the moment. You feel your orgasm building, a fire that's burning out of control.

You lean back on to Rafe’s chest and place a foot on the couch and begin to move your hips up and down. “Touch me,” you desperately plead and Rafe swiftly moves the one hand from your breast and swirls rough circles into your clit.

As soon as that pressure is applied, you're coming, your body shuddering. You feel his cock pulsing inside you, his body tensing as he comes right after you. The two of you are lost in the moment, your bodies entwined as you ride out the waves of pleasure.

You don’t get a second to recover before Rafe is lifting you up and laying you back onto the couch and settling in between your legs. You don’t mind though, you're not ready for this to end either.

He strokes his cock a few times to get hard again and as soon as he does he’s plunging right back into you.

As Rafe begins his harsh thrusts, he leans down and kisses you deeply, his tongue probing your mouth. You feel his warm breath on your skin, and his chest pressing against yours. He pulls back, looking into your eyes, and says, "I love being on top of you, feeling your body underneath me, I fucking own you now."

You smile, feeling a rush of excitement, and reply in between breaths, "You feel so good inside me, fucking me like the dirty little whore I am."

Rafe's eyes widen with desire, he honestly didn’t expect those words to come from you. You feel his cock filling you, stretching you, and you arch your back, moving your hips in sync with his, trying to take him deeper. "You're so tight, so wet," he growls. "I love feeling your cunt grip my cock."

As he moves, Rafe leans down and spits into your mouth again, his saliva mixing with yours. You feel a surge of excitement, and you swallow, tasting the salty sweetness of his spit. Rafe groans, his eyes closing in pleasure, and he says, "You're so fucking sexy. I love fucking you like this, making you mine, making you come all over my cock."

You feel his hips move even faster, his thrusts becoming more intense, and you wrap your legs around him, pulling him closer. Rafe's hands are on your breasts, squeezing and kneading, feeling his fingers pinch your nipples.

 "You like it rough, don't you, baby?" he asks, his voice low and husky. "You like it when I fuck you hard and deep, making you scream my name." You nod stupidly, not able to form a sentence right now.

As he fucks you, Rafe leans down and whispers, "I'm going to come soon, baby. I'm going to fill you up with more of my cum, make you feel like a dirty little slut." You feel his cock swelling, his movements becoming more erratic, and you know he's close. Those words make your back arch and make you come, your pussy clenching around his cock, milking him for every last drop of his seed.

"Oh, fuck yeah," Rafe groans, his voice husky with desire, "I can feel you coming, baby, I can feel your hot little cunt squeezing my cock, begging for my cum."

You look up at him, your eyes locking onto his, and you say, "Come inside me. Please. I want to feel you explode, feel your hot cum filling me up." Rafe's eyes flash with excitement, and he thrusts into you one last time, his body tensing, his cock pulsing with his release.

You feel his cum filling you, warming you, and you smile, feeling satisfied, feeling complete. Rafe collapses on top of you, his chest heaving, his breath hot on your skin. You wrap your arms around him, holding him close, and you whisper, "I love being your dirty little slut."

Rafe's eyes open, and he looks at you, his gaze soft, his expression tender. He says, “I love making you mine." You feel his lips on yours, his kiss gentle, complete opposite of how passionate everything just was. You now realize, this wasn’t something done out of boredom. Rafe likes his sister’s pogue friend.

Tags- @maybankslover @eringaitskill @luissa266 @lolll505 @dayyzlol @calaryssia @eg-dr3amer3 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @rafestar @writtenbyhollywood @leilanizcals @rafestoothbrush @weluvwbb @itsforeverandalwayz @butterfly-ibuki @percysley @siredbtches @bigenergy777 @aupernatural-teenwolflover @slut4you @skywalker0809 @whytheylosttheirminds @starkeysprincess @rafeyscurtainbangs @cameronsprincess @httpsdrewstarkey @angelicameron @littlelamy @kieeslove @snowtargaryen @etheraltides @starkeysprincess @cooper8224 @hockeybabe87 @xdaughterofpersephonex @leather-n-velvet @mima116 @urbrunettebombshell @pogueprincesa @purplerose291 @frankoceanluvr11 @ivysprophecy @starsmoonn @akobx @rafestify @drwstarkeys

[devilith]

idk dawg if you think that mammon "doesnt feel cared for" then you probably just dont understand the themes of the game or dont ever pay attention to literally anything that the characters do or say ever

because "the brothers fight a lot but despite bickering they love each other more than anything and would protect their family at all costs" is literally the core theme of the entire obey me franchise

they kind of rub it directly in your face that the brothers all love each other. yeah, including mammon. lucifer CONSTANTLY bails mammon out whenever hes in trouble. mammon never faces any consequences for the objectively horrible shit he does to other people because his brothers ALWAYS forgive him. and no, the "tied up on the ceiling" thing doesnt count because it is painfully obvious that its supposed to be a joke (you know, exaggerated physical humor thats so popular in japanese media) and is never played seriously. plus mammon is literally a masochist and they have explicitly said in the game that he enjoys punishments. oh also they have said multiple times in both games that mammon is literally lucifers favorite brother

levi is constantly lending mammon money even though he KNOWS mammon will never pay it back. theres like a billion chats where levi and mammon are talking about watching the same series or playing the same games together. satan has literally gotten mammon jobs before because mammon needed money. asmo goes partying with mammon all the time and compliments mammons fashion and magazine photoshoots and praises mammon a lot. beel looks up to mammon and relies on him as an older brother. like they literally could not make it any more obvious that all the brothers love each other

if the only reason you think that the brothers treat mammon "badly" is because they call him stupid or dumb (when he does objectively stupid things, btw) then sorry but you either dont have siblings yourself or you have such an insanely skewed view of what it means to be treated badly. singlings bicker and argue, thats normal for every family ever. and these are DEMONS. demons who canonically kill other demons for fun (yeah the brothers literally do that) so no actually, calling each other names is not cruel or abusive or whatever

also he literally CAN "physically help himself" and control himself, he just actively chooses not to. this is LITERALLY CANON and you see it in the games dozens of times. i am begging the obey me fandom to learn how to fucking read, my god

If you think about it, the twins are the ones who suffer the most with their sins. The other brothers know how to control their sins well, especially Satan, he can keep his wrath at bay, or calm himself: because they can control their emotions, since their sins are mostly related/correlated to one or to a feeling, not to a physical need, like the twins. Beel is hungry all the time, and Belphie is tired most of it. It’s not like Beel can supress his hunger, he can try, but it wouldn’t work. He will eventually have to eat; same thing happens with Belphie, he can’t help but feel sleepy, and the only solution to it is to sleep. For example, Mammon isn’t greedy all the time, his sin is “activated” when something triggers it - opportunity makes the thief - but we cannot say the same for the twins. Thoughts? :c

[bumblesimagines]

Imagine:

Comforting Prince Aemond

Request: Yes or No

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

CW/TW: Typical GoT/HOTD warnings, mentions of Luke's death, Aemond being vulnerable

~~~

Aemond's strides were quick and long, covering the distance across hallways with a swiftness that implied he had somewhere important to be. His eye remained trained forward and his hands remained balled fists at his side, posture erect and poised; everything his mind wasn't.

Lucerys was dead. One minute they'd both been soaring the skies in an albeit cruel game of chase and then the next Aemond watched in horror as bits and pieces of Arrax descended into the bay below.

His stomach churned. He'd never killed anyone before, much less thought his first 'victory' would include spilling the blood of his own kin. He knew with the prospect of war the time for him to face his childhood bullies would arise but he'd never intended to do it so soon, much less during such a crucial time.

"Mother have mercy on us all." His mother had whispered in horror when he delivered the news, still dripping wet from the storm and suppressing shivers.

"You only lost one eye," His grandsire went next, nearly seething with rage and disappointment. "How could you be so blind?

His older brother's glee had fully cemented he'd only caused further stride, further issues for their house and his brother's reign. No amount of promises of a great feast to celebrate his actions soothed his mind.

Sharply turning onto one hallway, he noted the lack of guards and felt a semblance of relief. He'd debated taking the secret passageways he'd studied about during his lessons but his legs had automatically taken him in the direction of (Y/N)'s room the moment he stepped out of the Small Council room.

He cracked the door open and stepped inside the bedchambers, quietly closing the door behind him before silently approaching the bed on the opposite side of the room. Dawn began making its presence known, the sky outside brightening in color as the sun began rising.

His eye remained trained on the slumbering figure, studying the young man's features as if he were a book with all the answers. Aemond reached out to him, fingertips grazing his cheek with a light touch.

"(Y/N)," Aemond murmured, the ache in his chest subsiding when (Y/N) stirred. "(Y/N)."

"Mm..." (Y/N)'s features scrunched up, his body briefly curling into itself before stretching out on the bed. His hand appeared from underneath the covers to rub at his eye, the start of a pout forming on his lips. "What?" He exhaled, still half-asleep.

"It's me." Aemond responded, shedding the cold leather of his riding coat and draping it over the nearest chair.

The bed creaked softly when (Y/N) propped himself up onto his elbows, his brows remaining knitted together but bleary eyes softening. "Has something happened?" He asked, voice hoarse.

Aemond tugged on the laces of his riding boots, dragging them off his feet and setting them beside the chair. His lips pressed together into a taut line before he spoke, "Prince Lucerys is.. dead."

(Y/N) stared at him, his brows slowly softening with realization. "I see." He muttered and reached out toward him, warm hand wrapping around his wrist and tugging him toward the bed.

Immediately, Aemond complied, slipping beneath the warm covers and savoring the feeling against his cold skin. (Y/N) tugged the covers up to their shoulders and reached for him, delicately tugging the eye patch off and setting it aside.

"What happened?" He asked quietly, his thumb dragging lightly over the scar embedded in his skin.

"I lost control of Vhagar." Aemond felt foolish. Vhagar was his dragon, his to command; yet at the same time, it all felt so complicated. Vhagar had proven she was willing to do whatever it took to protect them both. She still had some fight in her despite her age.

(Y/N) hummed softly and treaded his fingers through Aemond's silky strands, bringing his head to his chest and scraping his fingertips against his scalp. Aemond melted against him with ease, tangling their legs together and wrapping his arms around him. He released a heavy breath.

"Mother wouldn't look at me." He mumbled into the fabric of (Y/N)'s shirt, inhaling the faint smell of soap clinging to him. "It was an accident. I only wished to frighten him."

"I know." (Y/N) cooed reassuringly, his lips pressing against Aemond's hair. "She will come to terms with it in time."

"I-"

"Rest, Aemond.. you are shivering and exhausted. We may speak later." (Y/N) spoke gently, the heel of his hand pressing into Aemond's temple and tilting his head upward. Aemond's eyes fluttered shut and he savored (Y/N)'s lips pressing into his.

Tightening his hold, Aemond buried his face in the crook of his neck. "Thank you." He sighed and allowed slumber to overcome him.

[choerypetal]

Home. / Steve Harrington

summary: Once you became Billy's partner, you always knew you'd face the grief of his passing. But with your curse tied to Vecna, enduring those dark times felt even heavier. Unexpectedly, Steve stepped in, becoming a source of solace and shelter for both you and your fractured heart.

ps; english isn't my first language so i truly apologize for some grammar errors or syntax in play. enjoy!

Seeing Billy’s lifeless body at Starcourt Mall was the cruel finale to it all.

An enemy, a friend, and finally a lover—your relationship with Billy had always puzzled those around you, Steve included. Maxine could hardly fathom how her brother and you had ended up together. It was like a cliché from a romance story, and Billy had no qualms about flaunting it, much to the disgust of those who couldn’t stomach your connection.

But amidst the chaos, something beautiful had blossomed. Until the moment of Billy’s last breath—leaving you adrift, unable to find solace or sanity in his absence.

You were certain Vecna wouldn’t come for you—or so you hoped after witnessing Billy’s transformation into something whole and purified. Yet, during those days, you and Billy had grown distant. His job at the Hawkins pool didn’t help; his good looks naturally drew attention, stirring a mix of unease and concern within you. Deep down, you worried about his health—and you had every reason to.

Today marked the first anniversary of his death. Maxine had invited you to visit his grave that morning. The dark circles under your eyes betrayed the restless night you’d had, while your messy hair and the way your fingers clung tightly to Billy’s jacket spoke volumes.

Steve and the others were invited to come along. Since the cemetery was hours away from Hawkins, walking wasn’t an option, and Steve had offered to drive everyone. It wasn’t just for Maxine, or even to pay respect to Billy, despite the fact that Steve had never forgiven him for being an unapologetic jerk. Steve did it, above all, for you.

Steve had seen the changes in you—how you had transformed after being cursed by Vecna. Your body was different, your voice carried a detached tone, and a numbness seemed to cling to you. Neither of you could figure out how to mend what was broken. In his concern, Steve even asked Robin to check in on you once, though you refused her presence. He wasn’t surprised but had hoped for some flicker of the person you used to be. Yet, those glimpses weren’t enough for him. He needed more—needed to hold you, to wrap you in his arms and assure you that you could trust him.

But trust was a fragile thing, especially when you were already struggling with feelings for someone new.

You appreciated Steve’s efforts. From the cookies he brought for Maxine and Susan, courtesy of his mother, to his insistence on staying overnight just to make sure you were okay. It was on one of those nights—one where sleep seemed like an impossible luxury—that his presence felt especially grounding.

The nightmares, however, refused to be silenced. “Y/N...” Billy’s voice echoed endlessly in your mind, haunting you. There were moments you convinced yourself he wasn’t truly gone, that he was somehow alive. And in your mind, he was—always there, just out of reach.

“Y/N…” His voice kept calling you. No, you weren’t going to fall for it. Not this time.

“Y/N!”

Your eyes snapped open, your back jolting upright from the sudden shock. As your breathing steadied, you realized it wasn’t him—it was your mother. She stood at the edge of your bed, her expression etched with concern. A sigh escaped your lips as you placed a hand over your chest, grounding yourself in the reality that it had all been just another nightmare.

“Yes, Mother? What’s the urgency?” you asked groggily, a yawn escaping as you rubbed at your tired eyes. “It’s only…” Your gaze flickered to the clock. “8:00 AM on a Saturday?”

Your mother chuckled softly at your confusion, a hint of amusement in her calm demeanor. Yet there was something more, something hopeful in her expression. “Silly, your father and I are going out for dinner tonight to celebrate our anniversary. You’ll be okay on your own, won’t you? I know things haven’t been the easiest…”

The mention of it—a veiled reference to everything you’d been through—stung, but you masked it with a small, practiced smile. “Of course, don’t worry. I’ll lock the doors and—”

But that wasn’t what she meant, and you both knew it. Her smile faded, replaced by a gentle seriousness. “You know what I mean, sweetie,” she said softly, sitting on the edge of your bed. You lowered your gaze to your hands, fingers nervously picking at each other. A silent sigh escaped your lips. You understood her concern—it was impossible to ignore.

“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.” 

Clearly, you weren’t okay, but it was the only way you knew how to cope. As the hours passed, you found solace in the pages of a good book, letting the world around you blur into the background.

Then came a knock at the door.

You hesitated, debating whether you should even bother answering. Deep down, you hoped it was just the postman with a routine delivery. But the knock came again, a little more insistent this time. “Coming!” you called out, irritation slipping into your tone as you set the book aside on your mattress and got up. Descending the stairs, you heard another knock, louder and more impatient.

“Coming! Geez,” you muttered under your breath, annoyance growing as you reached for the doorknob. Whoever thought it was appropriate to knock this insistently at this hour had better have a damn good reason, you thought. When you finally swung the door open, Steve’s silhouette greeted you, framed by the golden rays of the early morning sun. He stood there, a tray of familiar cookies balanced in his arms, a sheepish grin tugging at his face.

“Took you long enough,” he teased lightly.

“You better have a good reason for dragging me out of bed at...” you trailed off, leaning back to glance at the clock hanging on the wall. “At 9:00 AM? Not that I don’t appreciate your—”

“Just wanted to bring these cookies,” Steve said, the lie hanging in the air. It wasn’t convincing—because, of course, Steve didn’t just show up with cookies for no reason. Especially not when you could have been peacefully reading your book. But he didn’t seem to care about the timing, and your unconvinced expression only deepened his hesitation.

“Fine,” he relented, scratching the back of his neck. “I didn’t come over just for the cookies. But…” His words trailed off as he struggled to find the right way to explain. Finally, he continued, “I overheard your mom talking to mine this morning while I was giving Dustin a ride to the arcade. I couldn’t—”

You sighed, cutting him off as realization dawned on you. Of course your mother had called Steve’s mother. Not only were they neighbors, living just a few blocks apart, but they’d also been close friends since high school. A good mother had every right to worry, but that didn’t make it any less frustrating.

Gently, you took the tray from Steve’s hands, the weight of it grounding you in the moment. Without saying a word, you stepped aside, silently inviting him in. “Fine… I guess your presence doesn’t hurt anybody,” you said, your tone resigned.

Steve exhaled in relief, doing his best to mask how thrilled he felt at your approval. He couldn’t deny how glad he was to see you—even with everything you’d been through, even with the weight you carried.

As he followed you to your room, his gaze flickered over the space. He noticed them immediately: the remnants of Billy still lingering, tucked into corners, sitting on shelves, woven into your world. A jacket draped over a chair. A photo resting on your nightstand.

It was something you’d once explained to him—it was your way of coping. Billy had been a part of your life for nearly a year, a year in which you’d shared so much with him. Secrets. Fears. Dreams. You had been the only person Billy had trusted enough to tell about his father, about the real reason they moved to Hawkins, about why he acted the way he did. You had been his calm amidst the chaos, his anchor in a storm.

But now, what is home when the one you love is… gone?

“Loving the new David Bowie poster,” Steve remarked, trying to lighten the mood. You appreciated the attempt, but instead of responding, you buried yourself back into your book. Noticing this, he leaned forward, reaching toward it as if to snatch it from your hands.

“No, no, no reading, miss,” he teased, pulling his hand back with a grin.

Your lips formed a pout as you furrowed your brows in mock irritation. “I said you could stay here, but that doesn’t mean you get to do anything either,” you shot back, earning a scoff from him.

Arms now crossed, he slumped onto the corner of your bed with a dramatic sigh. “Then what am I supposed to do?” You glanced around the room before your lips curled into a smug smirk. Without a word, you tossed a book in his direction, and it landed squarely on his chest with a dull thud. The impact made him flinch, his eyes closing briefly in exaggerated pain.

“Shit, Y/N. A book? Really?” he grumbled, glaring at you as you chuckled at his expense.

“Books are a great way to learn things,” you retorted with a playful shrug. “Maybe you could figure out how to leave people alone when they want some peace.”

Steve’s glare deepened, his brows knitting together in mock annoyance. “Haha, very funny,” he muttered, his fingers brushing reluctantly over the pages. It was exactly the type of book he’d normally ignore—or toss aside entirely. Why read so many words on a page when you could just watch something instead?

Still, as he sat there, he noticed how engrossed you were in your own book, completely tuned out of his presence. Sighing, he realized he had no choice but to play along. He wasn’t about to leave, not now, and certainly not when he’d already figured out your little game. You glanced up toward Steve, hoping he might finally give up and leave. But to your surprise, you had to blink a few times to confirm what you were seeing. Steve was actually reading? He was completely fixated on the plot, his brow furrowed in concentration. Suddenly, a gasp escaped his mouth, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

Hearing you, Steve glanced over with one brow arched. “What? Now you don’t want me to read?” he asked, feigning an almost-offended look and exaggerating it for effect. “I dare you to even mention to the kids—or my mom—that you made me read.” Another chuckle slipped from your lips. “Oh, Steve. Your secret is safe with me,” you replied with a teasing grin.

By the time evening rolled around, the two of you were both drained, the unexpected task of reading proving more exhausting than either of you expected. Steve let out a soft yawn, stretching his arms after hours of sitting still. At some point, without realizing it, you found yourself nestled in his arms. A soft snore escaped from his lips as he shifted slightly in his sleep, his grip tightening around you. You stirred awake, only to realize where you were—and more importantly, how close you were. Steve’s head was nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his warm breath brushing against your skin.

Your cheeks flushed a soft shade of pink as you became acutely aware of the situation. “St-Steve…” you whispered, attempting to wiggle free from his hold.

But Steve, even in his sleep, seemed to have other plans. His grip refused to loosen, and you let out a flustered sigh, realizing he might be more aware than he appeared.

“No…” he murmured softly, his voice low and insistent. “I need you… Y/N.”

His words made your heart skip a beat. It was then you began to piece it all together—the reason for Steve’s frequent visits, his unwavering presence. The realization hit you like a wave: Steve had feelings for you, and somewhere along the way, you had grown feelings for him too.

Though he had always respected your relationship with Billy, there was something undeniable about the connection you shared with Steve. It was a quiet truth you couldn’t ignore—your heart had spoken, and it told you what you’d been too afraid to admit. That feeling of home you thought you’d lost? It was right here.

“Stay with me…” Steve mumbled in his half-asleep state, his words slurring slightly as he pressed a gentle, sleepy kiss to your neck.

Your lips curved into a soft smile as you whispered, “I will…”

“Forever.”

[thewertsearch]

pipefan413: The children pledged to each other that one day they would run away together. pipefan413: They followed in the footsteps of the dear colonel, in defiance of the old batterwitch. They studied his every jape, and practiced them in secret!

She could have left, then. Planned to leave, even. Grandpa didn’t abandon her, like I'd originally assumed – he always intended to flee alongside her.

pipefan413: But as they grew older, their interests drifted apart. The boy developed a passion for adventure and put aside his study of practical jokes. He dreamed of wealth and fame and discovery and swore he would wander the world. pipefan413: One day he decided to run away with the loyal dog he inherited from their father. He asked the girl if she would come along, but she was too scared of the retribution that might follow.

But I guess the adolescent Nanna didn’t have Grandpa’s confidence, nor his fearlessness. Left alone with a witch of a woman, her childhood was probably not dissimilar to many other children in this sad saga.

pipefan413: The boy scoffed at the danger, and assured his sister there was nothing to worry about. But he had not seen first hand what the baroness was capable of!

It sounds like Nanna directly witnessed some specific evil act. The woman did run a corporation, though, so that was probably just a typical Tuesday for Betty Crocker.

pipefan413: He told his sister that he believed in her, and that she could handle whatever the witch could throw at her. [...]

Those are some pretty harsh words for a girl destined for a lifetime of abuse - but at the same time, he did openly ask her to run away with him, and she couldn't do it. What was he meant to do, kidnap her?

I don't blame him for leaving alone, either. Grandpa was also an abused child, and it would be asking a lot of him to remain in an abusive household to defend another child. He needed to leave that situation for his sake, just as Nanna needed to leave it for hers.

Pipefan413: [...] And with that, he was off, and she would never see him again.

But, all that said, he should have come back eventually. He didn’t need to abandon her for an entire lifetime.

Whatever extenuating circumstances there may have been, it can't be denied that he started his life as an adventurer the same way he ended it - by leaving someone who loved him behind.

pipefan413: One day, the girl was able to gather enough bravery to mention her brother to the baroness, and her desire to see him again. With contempt, she guaranteed that this could never happen. When the girl asked why, that is when the baroness began to reveal to her more than just her baking secrets. pipefan413: [...] The colonel was not their father, nor was the baroness their mother. They in fact had no father or mother at all, nor were they ever actually born. They had both fallen from the sky! They were not actually brother and sister as they had been told either. Again like in many fairy tales, the truth was that they were always destined to become married one day. They were to have two children, a son and a daughter, and these children were meant to save the world! […]

Wait, what? Betty Crocker knew Sburb lore?

...I think it says quite a lot about the Homestuck experience that I'm not even particularly surprised. Of course Betty Crocker knew Sburb lore.

It’s clear that she didn't know everything, though. She was aware that John and Jade would eventually happen, but assumed they’d be born naturally - which makes it sound like she was just getting fragments of future events, much like a Prospit dreamer’s visions.

...or, like a wielder of the Cueball, which we already know was in her family’s possession. It’s sounding a lot like even Betty fucking Crocker was a Scratch pawn all along.

[waynes-multiverse]

“You can’t really call yourself a civilian though, can you?” Colter pointed out.  Russell shot him a look. “Yeah well, neither can you, Colt.”

Ooooh, snappy 😆 I've been diving into the books a bit and I do think they still have some tough things to talk out. The show's making it look way too easy lol

But I loved all the kindergarten teasing and bantering between them. Such a fun moment! 🤍

“Well, he’s not the most upstanding citizen,” Bobby said. “He’s a cocaine dealer by trade. Other fun items on his rap sheet include illegal gun possession, theft, and domestic violence.”

Read this fully in Bobby's voice. You totally nailed his cadence too! You're killing it here, Alex!! 👏👏

Rookie fucking move. Should’ve made sure she got home safe, he thought. Better yet, should’ve kept her with me.

Ahaha knew it! Right on time too 😂

He really cares for her a lot after such a short amount of time already 🥹❤️

Oh, he knew he’d find you eventually, and your brother. He just didn’t want to think about how he might find you.

You're a hopeless romantic. You wouldn't do this to me, right? Right, Alex???? 😭

“Fuck off, Timberlake.”

They do share similarities 🤣🤣

A few minutes went by before the back doors of the bar opened to Pete and his gaggle of delinquent friends. As Colter suspected, one of them made a call. It lasted no more than a couple of minutes. Then, they piled into Pete’s car and pulled out of the parking lot.

I do love how resourceful he always is 🤓👏

You’d suspected the truth, but it was different from being faced with the reality. Charlie was the one who stole from the museum. He’d likely been doing a lot worse for the past few months. And somehow, Feinman had gotten in between. He’d also paid the price.

Like the reader, I'm not surprised but was hoping it wouldn't be this bad. Geez, Charlie, you call this getting your shit together? 🙄

“In the national forest, less than an hour out,” Charlie replied. “But you won’t find it without me.”

Why? No, not the woods!! 😂 (Being lost in a forest is one of my worst nightmares lol)

He aimed his .45 caliber M1911 at their friend Pete, who had Cheeto stains on his shirt.  “How about you, Pete. You finally wanna share with the class, before I blow your fucking face off?!” Russell shouted. 

Russell's dark side is doing things to me... 🫠🫠

“He was my dealer,” he admitted, though his gaze was heavy. “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t bring myself to tell you, but…a few weeks after I left rehab, I slipped. I never really did quit. Just got better at hiding it.” 

Figured something like this happened. I do feel for him, though. It's called addiction for a reason ❤️‍🩹

His argument for stealing was hilarious, however. Like, boo, really? Don't pretend you care about the Native Americans now. I think he knows his sister too well and figured this might work 😂

“I love you, you know that?” he whispered. Your brows furrowed. You opened your mouth to reply, but you found the look in his eyes suspicious. Like he was saying goodbye. 

You did it, too!!!! The "I love you" goodbye!! 🤣

Oh, I can't fucking wait to read the next part!!! 😁👏

Every Second Counts - Part 3

Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader

Summary: One date with your best friend’s brother leaves you wanting more, even though his questionable job and vagabond lifestyle make you want to guard your heart. When your brother falls into trouble, however, Russell is the one you trust to help you find him. 

AN: *Deep breaths* Are you ready? 😉

Word Count: 4.4K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, protective Russell, perilous situations, violence, character death, and another (literal) cliffhanger…

💜 Series Masterlist

Part 3: "Timer Starts Now"

As he drove away from the museum, Colter could see it even more clearly. 

“You like her,” he said, giving his older brother a smile. 

Russell glanced at him, then rolled his eyes. 

“Focus on the road,” he said. 

“Just admit it. You like her,” Colter smirked. “And the fact that she called you for help isn’t a coincidence.”

Russell made a sound of annoyance and shook his head. At this point, he knew Colter wasn’t going to drop the subject.

“All right, we went out on one date,” Russell held up a finger. “It was fun, but we agreed that I’m just not relationship material.”

Colter sobered at that, at the wry tone of his voice. It sounded like Russell liked you even more than he was willing to admit.

“Do you have a timeline on that brewery?” Colter asked.

Russell chuckled humorlessly. “Yeah, I’m just a few dollars short on that one.”

He stared out the window for a while, but he eventually turned back to his brother.

“She called me because her brother’s a vet. Because I know what it’s like to deal with the assimilation process, coming back to civilian life. Trying to figure out where you belong, you know?” he said.

“You think you’ve assimilated?” Colter asked.

Russell shrugged. “Best I know how, anyway.”

“You can’t really call yourself a civilian though, can you?” Colter pointed out. 

Russell shot him a look. “Yeah well, neither can you, Colt.”

That created a kind of tension in the car. A call from Bobby, Colter’s analyst, mercifully broke the silence. He’d gotten some useful information on Eddie Mendez, the man Charlie was supposedly working with, or for.

“Well, he’s not the most upstanding citizen,” Bobby said. “He’s a cocaine dealer by trade. Other fun items on his rap sheet include illegal gun possession, theft, and domestic violence.”

“All right, thanks, Bobby,” Colter said.

Great, Russell shook his head. Just what had your brother gotten himself into?

They were getting closer to the bar, and it mentally brought him back to his date with you.

Okay, maybe he did like you. But he also respected and understood your reasons for cutting things short that night. Usually, he was okay with being in a new town every other week, the occasional one-night stands, the skeevy motel rooms and the fast food. It was all with a goal in mind, and that made the hustle easier.

He’d started to wonder though, what it would be like to set down roots somewhere. Doug made it work with his wife and still did his contract work, even if there were some major pros and cons to that too…

Russell was only broken out of his thoughts when he got a call himself, from Dory. He answered it and held the phone to his ear.

“Hey, D. What’s up?” he asked.

“Russell, something’s wrong,” she said. Her voice was panicked.

He frowned, his brows furrowing. “What? What happened?”

The more he listened, the more his eyes widened in shock. He looked to his brother.

“Colter, turn around. Now.”

Russell and Colter arrived back at your house, where Dory was parked out front. She came out of the safety of her car when she saw them. Russell got to her first. He laid a hand on her shoulder in the driveway.

“What happened?” he asked. 

She tearfully explained that she found your purse in the bushes, but your phone was missing. She had just picked up your call when it suddenly cut off. 

“But I heard her scream,” Dory said, with a stifled breath.

Russell’s mood darkened in response, and the longer he took in the scene. He looked over at Colter, who also wore a frown. 

The tracker examined your car and driveway first. Already he found signs of struggle. He noticed a couple pieces of dark glass on the pavement, and when he scrutinized his surroundings further, he picked your broken phone out of the grass. The screen was cracked beyond repair.

Next, he climbed the three short steps of the porch, up to the front door of the house. There were marks on the doorknob, likely scratched by a key. He spotted the Ring Camera next.

Good. He took it right off the wall.  

“Do you have her keys there?” he asked his sister. Dory handed them to him and he let himself in. “Let’s see what we’re dealing with.”

The three of them entered your house and found it dark and empty. Colter switched the lights on and got to work, after going back to grab his laptop from the car.

Russell stayed with his sister on the couch, a supportive hand on her back. He tried to shove his anger and upset deeper below the surface.

Meanwhile, Colter had Bobby retrieve the data from the camera. Within a few minutes, he sent Colter a video file, which Colter then played on his laptop. The three of them watched you approach the door.

Someone with a man’s build grabbed you from behind, wearing dark clothes and a mask that obscured his face. You screamed and tried to fight, but the man dragged you away as you struggled.

Russell’s frown deepened as his body tensed with anger again, his jaw ticking as it clenched. And then came the self-loathing.

Rookie fucking move. Should’ve made sure she got home safe, he thought. Better yet, should’ve kept her with me.

Dory covered her trembling mouth and dissolved into tears. Russell tucked her against his side, rubbing her arm. Colter laid a hand on her shoulder as well, but he continued to analyze the footage. He couldn’t make out the attacker’s face with the mask he was wearing, but Colter saw a blue sedan in the background. It peeled off after you were hauled off-screen.  

“Why would they take her? What the hell is Charlie into?” Dory said. She sniffled and wiped at her face.

“To keep her quiet after she started digging into his disappearance, possibly. Or for leverage against him,” Colter said, leveling her with honesty. “Someone doesn’t want us to find Charlie. I’m betting it’s whoever he’s working for.”

He thought it was safer if he didn’t tell his sister exactly who Charlie’s employer was.  

Dory shook her head in worry. “We need to call the police.”

Colter shared a grim look with his brother. He knew Russell understood the score here. 

“If we get the police involved, it’s at least a 50% chance that whoever has her and Charlie…will kill both of them,” Colter said. Dory sucked in a trembling breath. 

“Our best bet is to keep digging,” Colter said.

“Let’s go,” Russell said, nodding at him. He stood, parting from his sister with a hand squeezing her shoulder.

“Where are you going?” Dory asked. She got up to her feet along with her brothers.

“Howley’s. It’s our only lead on Charlie’s employer,” Colter replied. 

“Okay, but wait—” Dory reached out for Russell’s arm. It was a reflex as she tried to wrap her mind around all of this. 

Russell grasped her shoulders gently enough, but he made sure she saw the sense of urgency in his eyes.

“We don’t have time,” he said. “From here on out, every second counts.” 

After a beat, Dory nodded in acceptance. She let go of his jacket. 

“Okay, keep me updated.”

“Will do,” he said, and he swiftly followed Colter out the door.

The brothers drove in silence to the bar. Colter noted his brother’s tension, and the grim set to his jaw. 

“Hey,” Colter said, earning Russell’s attention. Colter gave him a reassuring look. “We’re gonna find her. We’ll find both of them.”

Russell exhaled. “Yeah.”  

Oh, he knew he’d find you eventually, and your brother. He just didn’t want to think about how he might find you.

Once they got back to Howley’s, they started by questioning the bartender about Eddie Mendez. 

“He’s not here. But that’s a couple of his friends over there,” the bartender said. He pointed them in the direction of a couple of guys drinking near the back. Three of them were sitting at a table playing cards. 

Russell recognized two of them. One was the same guy who made the mistake of hassling you by the pool table. He’d gotten a bloody nose for his trouble. Russell smirked at the memory. 

“Pete, make a fucking move already,” said one of the guy’s buddies.

Russell caught it as he and Colter approached them. This time, Pete seemed at least somewhat sober, even with his second beer in hand. Another bottle sat empty beside his arm.

“Hey, fellas,” Russell greeted the table. “Little Blackjack, little booze. Looks like a good night you’re having.”

“Do I know you?” Pete asked. His face showed a spark of recognition when he took in Russell. 

“Well, you’re about to. We’re looking for one of your friends, Eddie,” he replied. 

Pete set his beer down on the table. Predictably, he crossed his arms and closed up.

“I don’t know no Eddie.”

Russell resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“I realize it’s hard for you, but don’t be dumb. Eddie Mendez,” he pressed. 

Pete glanced at his friends, then he stood from the table, drawing himself to his full height. He was a bit bigger than Russell, but a beer gut wasn’t everything.  

Russell seized up the man in front of him with an almost lazy grin. By contrast, his eyes were sharp, betraying his true thoughts. 

“Now remember. Whatever you start, I’m gonna damn well finish,” he said. 

That sure ignited Pete’s memory. He seemed to be remembering your smaller fist nearly breaking his nose. His face fell with an angry frown. Russell smirked.

Colter laid a warning hand on his brother’s arm.

“We’re not looking for trouble. We’re just trying to find someone Eddie might know. Charlie,” Colter said. “Do you know him?”

“No, I don’t,” Pete claimed.  

“Like you didn’t know Eddie?” Colter replied, raising a brow. “Where can we find him?”

“Now you are looking for trouble,” Pete spat. “Fuck off, Timberlake.”

Just then, Colter’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He took it out and saw a text from Dory, asking for an update. He ignored the message for now and put his phone away.

Hearing a commotion, he quickly looked up in time to realize that Russell had wrangled Pete into a stronghold with his arm behind his back and had slammed him onto the table. Drinks and bottles rattled and spilled; playing cards fell to the floor. Pete’s friends got up with angry, threatening gaits.

“I think you can point us in the right direction before I break this meaty arm of yours. How about that?” Russell said. 

“Hey! No fighting!” the bartender called from the front. “Take that shit outside.”

Colter internally sighed, but he’d have to roll with this, even though this wasn’t how he’d wanted to play it. 

“I wouldn’t test him,” Colter advised. “That’s gonna be a bad break. You got good health insurance, Pete? You’ll probably need surgery, expensive bills, a little physical therapy, a few months of recovery time.”

Pete seemed to weigh Colter’s logic, albeit with an angry huff. He waved off his friends and caught his breath while pinned against the table. 

“I can’t talk to you,” he said. “I’ll get myself killed.”

“I’d worry more about your odds right now, Pete,” Russell said. He tightened his twisted hold on the man’s arm, earning a strangled sound of pain. 

Colter weighed the options here in record time, and he came to a decision. He grasped Russell’s arm firmly.

“Let him go,” he said.  

Russell gave him a look of disbelief. “Colt?”

Colter implored him with his eyes. Trust me.

After a few more seconds, Russell’s lips pursed, but he let the guy go. 

“Ah, fuck,” Pete muttered. After he was able to straighten up, he rubbed his aching arm and shot them both a red-faced glare. 

Colter steered his brother out of the bar before a real fight could break out. He knew it’d become a bloody mess, and they didn’t have time for a night stay in a county jail cell this time.  

“You better have a damn plan,” Russell whispered, as they neared the front doors of the bar.

“You know I do,” Colter replied.

They later sat in his truck while it was still turned off. Just waiting in silence.

A few minutes went by before the back doors of the bar opened to Pete and his gaggle of delinquent friends. As Colter suspected, one of them made a call. It lasted no more than a couple of minutes. Then, they piled into Pete’s car and pulled out of the parking lot.

Colter started up his own car, and he followed them.

You were led into what sounded like a warehouse. You couldn’t know for sure with this musty bag over your head and your wrists bound together with zip ties, but you clenched your teeth and tried to stop sniffling. Your fear made your heart pump fast and loud in your ears.

Voices echoed around you, arguing, yelling about shipments. You were shoved hard to the ground, and you gasped, instinctively throwing your hands out when your knees hit the hard cement. 

“No…” 

That voice was all too familiar. 

The bag was finally ripped off your head, the edge of it catching in your frizzy hair. You blinked wearily at the florescent lights above, and you wiped at your tears and smudged mascara. Your breath left your lungs when you saw your brother, Charlie. 

He was tied to a chair, shirtless and shoeless, beaten and bloody. Some parts of his skin even looked burned. His jeans remained, at least. But his face was hard to look at. His left eye was swollen, his lip split, his cheek cut and bloody. Both his eyes were red-rimmed, and he was sweaty and dirty, as if they’d been keeping him down here like an animal. He looked thinner too.

He stared back at you in dismay, your name falling from his lips.

You tried to scramble over to him, but someone grabbed you by the hair and yanked you back. You cried out in pain.

“Eddie stop! Don’t hurt her!” he shouted. He drew enough strength to pull at his restraints. Your hands reached back on reflex to grasp at the hand holding your hair. 

“No, you did this,” Eddie said. He clicked the safety off his handgun and pointed the barrel at your head, right between the eyes. You gasped and froze where you sat. 

“You couldn’t make it easy, huh? Well now, I’m making it real simple for you,” he continued. “Even more simple, now that we cut out the middleman.”

Eddie gestured to what looked like a woven potato sack laid behind Charlie’s chair, but really, that was just part of it. As your eyes scanned over, you saw the narrow shoulders of a man with a familiar dark blue blazer. It was stained red with a bloody hole carved through the back. Your breath stilled in your lungs.

Eddie glanced over at you, his lips curving. He walked over to the dead body, turned it over with his boot, and dragged off the potato sack to reveal the lifeless blue eyes of Dr. Feinman.

Your eyes widened.

You let out a blood-curdling scream that startled a pigeon out of the warehouse, from where it had been perching on a high support ledge. You leaned back on your bound hands, but you could go no further as one of Eddie’s men grabbed your shoulder, pinning you on the ground. His annoyed face told you to shut the fuck up.

Charlie grimaced and turned his face from the sight of the body. Both shame and hate filled his eyes when Eddie bent down to face him.

“Tell me where you hid the goddamn weapons,” he demanded.

Your lips trembled as new tears brimmed over and streamed down your cheeks. You’d suspected the truth, but it was different from being faced with the reality. Charlie was the one who stole from the museum. He’d likely been doing a lot worse for the past few months. And somehow, Feinman had gotten in between. He’d also paid the price.

Your brother saw your disappointment, and he accepted it. But lacking an answer, Eddie pistol whipped you in the face, earning a pained cry from you as you fell back onto the ground. You had to blink the stars out of your eyes.

After his shock wore off, Charlie’s face hardened with fury.

“Oh, don’t give me that fucking face,” Eddie said. He grabbed you by the back of the neck, startling another sharp breath from you. “If you don’t tell me what I want to know, what I did to you’ll be child’s play, compared to what I’m gonna do to her. And you’re going to watch.”

Against your will, tears filled your eyes while you stared at your brother. You were terrified, and Charlie knew it. He was scared too, but he also knew then what he had to do.

“I buried them,” he admitted. 

“You buried them?” Eddie repeated. He brushed back his dark hair with the same hand that held his gun. “Ain’t that ironic. All right, where did you bury them?”

“In the national forest, less than an hour out,” Charlie replied. “But you won’t find it without me.” 

Eddie shook his head on a sigh. “Of fucking course.”

He gestured to his men waiting nearby. He wordlessly gave them the order to untie your brother. 

“All right, Charlie. Let’s go for a drive,” he said, and gave you a sleazy smile. “You too, sweetheart.”

He hauled you up onto your feet and kept you close to him, with a hand like a vice around your arm. God, you hated a sweethearting man.

You held your breath. You could only pray that Dory had noticed you were missing…and that Russell and Colter could find you before it was too late.

Please…

It was still dark out, but the sky was beginning to lighten when Colter pulled to the side of the road. The car they followed had stopped in front of a warehouse near an industrial downtown area. Colter spotted the blue sedan from the Ring Camera footage. It was parked out front. 

With a shared nod of understanding, Colter and Russell climbed out of the truck and took the time to arm themselves properly before scoping out the warehouse.

“What does a drug cartel want with museum artifacts?” Russell remarked as they were gearing up. “That’s still not adding up for me.”

“It is odd, but maybe the idea came from Charlie,” Colter said. “He had access. Maybe he saw it as a way to buy their trust.”

“Okay, then what went wrong? Why’d they take her?” Russell replied. “I don’t know, man. Something feels off here.”

Colter nodded in agreement. “We don’t have all the pieces yet.”

But they were about to get them. They moved closer to the warehouse, with Russell heading towards a side door and Colter going around the back. They saw a few men crowded around a TV in the corner of the warehouse. Behind them were crates upon crates of what surely was product. Probably tens of thousands worth of coke.

Jesus, Russell thought. It was nothing he hadn’t seen before, but still. This was a serious operation.

Colter caught sight of a lone chair under a bright corner of the room. It was stained with sweat and blood, and some cut ropes hung from the seat. He alerted Russell to the scene with a subtle gesture of his raised gun. Russell’s face turned grim. He nodded minimally, then pointed with his eyes at the group of unsuspecting men. The brothers drew in closer.

Russell fired a shot directly into the TV screen, making it crash onto the ground. The men startled like rats, but they soon faced Russell and Colter’s guns. When one of them reached for the gun tucked in their pants, Colter aimed directly at him.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Colter warned. 

“Where’s Charlie?” Russell demanded. “And his sister.”

He aimed his .45 caliber M1911 at their friend Pete, who had Cheeto stains on his shirt. 

“How about you, Pete. You finally wanna share with the class, before I blow your fucking face off?!” Russell shouted. 

The depths of his voice reverberated widely in the warehouse. It set the tone for things to come, if he didn’t get some cooperation.

Pete shifted on his feet, betraying his nerves. His forehead was starting to sweat too. 

“They’re not here,” he admitted. “They left a while ago.”

Russell flexed his finger over the trigger of his gun. 

“Tell me where,” he said.

Eddie wasn’t exactly an outdoorsy kind of guy. He kicked his boot against a tree while leaning against it.

“Fucking rock in my shoe,” he muttered angrily.

He was getting more and more frustrated with the uneven terrain (and the mosquitos) the longer the five of you trekked onwards: including you, Charlie, Eddie, and two of his men, Rick and Kevin. Both of them had guns trained on your back and Charlie’s. 

“I’m sorry,” Charlie said quietly to you.

You shook your head. Disappointment didn’t even begin to cover what you were feeling as you looked at him, but at least they’d given him a shirt to cover his beaten torso. His face wasn't so lucky.

He righted you when you struggled on the gravel and loose dirt in your ankle boots. Your hands were still tied together too.

“What the hell happened to you?” you asked, as you caught your breath. 

“I needed the money,” he said, though he knew it wasn’t an excuse. “I was his bodyguard.”

“He’s a drug dealer,” you snapped. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

“He was my dealer,” he admitted, though his gaze was heavy. “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t bring myself to tell you, but…a few weeks after I left rehab, I slipped. I never really did quit. Just got better at hiding it.” 

You let out a sharp breath, and tried to blink past your tears. Another disappointment, another heartbreak for the books.

“But when he offered me a job to pay off what I owed, he wanted insurance that I’d stick around. To prove myself,” Charlie explained. “He came up with the idea to rob the museum.”

“Why was Dr. Feinman involved? Did he find out?” you asked.

Charlie nodded with a sigh. “He caught me the first time I tried to steal the artifacts. I…I lied. Told him we planned to sell them. So instead of turning me in, he wanted to be cut into the deal.”

“What? Why?” you said. Your former boss was many things—a stuffy, self-important man chief among them—but you’d never taken him for a thief.

Charlie gave you a wry look. “Owed his second wife up to his eyeballs. Alimony’s a real bitch.”

You shook your head. That explained why Charlie hadn’t yet been a suspect in the theft. Feinman had probably helped cover Charlie’s tracks. But whatever shortcomings Feinman had, he hadn’t deserved to die like that. A shudder went through your body, remembering his lifeless eyes. You breathed out slowly and tried to rid yourself of the nightmarish image. You managed to push past that to ask your next question.

“And who chose the Native American weapons?”

Charlie’s lips pursed. He glanced over his shoulder. “He did. Thought they looked cool.”

Eddie smirked and waved his gun at him, spurring you both onward. Charlie kept walking and turned his attention back to you. 

“The way I figured it, the museum shouldn’t have them anyway.” 

Your lips pursed at that. You sort of saw his point there, however convoluted his justification, but putting those artifacts in the hands of a drug dealer was even worse.

“And this is so much better for them,” you said pointedly. 

“That’s why I couldn’t go through with it. Tried to get out of the whole damn mess,” he said. “I know what you would’ve said to me. And I knew if I ever saw you again, I wouldn’t be able to look you in the eyes.”

Your tears welled up again, when you saw the sincerity of his gaze.

“Okay, this touching little scene is making my balls itch,” Eddie said. He grabbed Charlie’s shoulder and turned him around. “Where the fuck are we going? If you’re trying to pull something smartass here, Charlie, I promise you, you’re gonna regret it.”

He cocked the safety back on his gun and pointed it at Charlie’s chest. Charlie raised slow, placating hands.

“It’s just a little further,” he promised. 

“If you’re giving me the runaround—” Eddie started.

“Then what? Without me, you’ll never find it,” Charlie barked back. 

Eddie’s face tightened, and he pointed the gun at you instead. You sucked in a breath.

Charlie quickly held up his bound hands again in surrender. After a beat of tension, he pointed up when he heard rushing water. 

“Hear that?” he said. “I buried it on a cliff near a waterfall. We’re getting close.”

Another stretch of silence filled the clearing. 

Eddie weighed Charlie’s words. When he was mollified enough, he lowered his gun away from you. At his command, Rick and Kevin kept you and your brother moving. 

Charlie glanced to his right side. He realized that you all were walking near the edge of a steep hill that careened downward. Taking in a breath to center himself, he turned to you.

“I love you, you know that?” he whispered.

Your brows furrowed. You opened your mouth to reply, but you found the look in his eyes suspicious. Like he was saying goodbye. 

That was when he swiftly turned. He snapped the heel of his hand into Kevin's throat and grabbed his gun while he was choking. Charlie shot him in the chest, then he clipped Rick in the shoulder. 

Just as Eddie began to raise his own weapon, Charlie met your look of shock with his own determination. 

He pushed you down the hill.

AN: I know, I know. Two cliffhangers in a row is cruel, but I promise we're getting to even more fun action and cathartic moments in Part 4! 😘

Next Time:

Russell called your name as he searched through the dense trees. Sunlight was beginning to filter through their leaves in dappled color on the trail. It gave him a better view ahead.

He stopped short when he saw a splatter of blood on the ground, painting the dirt and some dead leaves. A well of unease rose in his gut.

He headed toward the sound of running water, and he soon found another cliff. Just beyond it was a waterfall, and river below. Seeing no signs of life, he pulled back and continued to call your name, and all the while, pushing down his worry.

“Russell?!”

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 4

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[hisfavegirl]

Haven Of Harmony - Daemon Targaryen x Wife!Reader.

Summary : Your marriage with Daemon became more harmonious after the birth of your twin sons, Daemon also decided to bring his family to move to Dragonstone and settle there. Your happiness increases when you share the happy news.

You sat on a carved stone bench overlooking the vast expanse of Dragonstone, the cool breeze carrying with it the sound of roaring dragons and the laughter of your children. Your silver hair shimmered in the sunlight as you watched your five children soar through the skies on their dragons, their figures cutting against the blue heavens.

Your eldest, Maegon, led the group with his fierce determination, his bond with his dragon, Verathor, evident in every dive and turn. Vaelya followed close behind, her graceful dragon, Nyserion, matching her fiery spirit with elegant precision. Aerion, as daring as ever, performed daring maneuvers on his dragon, Aurion, his laughter echoing through the sky.

Below them flew Aelor and Vaegon, the youngest of the brood, though no less skilled. Their dragons, Elyrax and Thalaxion, moved in perfect harmony as they joined their older siblings in an impromptu mock battle against Daemon, who flew on Caraxes.

You couldn’t help but laugh as you saw your husband struggling to keep up with the coordinated attacks of his children. Caraxes let out an annoyed roar when Vaelya and Nyserion swooped low and nipped at his tail, causing Daemon to grumble in irritation.

“Is this how you treat your father, you little wretches?!” Daemon bellowed, though his voice carried no real anger.

Maegon grinned triumphantly from atop Verathor, pointing his blade toward Daemon in mock challenge. “You taught us too well, Father!”

Aerion joined in the teasing, circling Caraxes with a wide grin. “Looks like you’re getting old, Father! Maybe it’s time you retired to the ground!”

Daemon’s face twisted into a comically exaggerated scowl, making you laugh even harder. “Insolent brats,” he muttered, though his smirk betrayed his pride.

Just then, Vaelya swooped low beside Caraxes, her long silver braid whipping in the wind. “Leave Father alone!” she called to her brothers, her voice indignant. “He’s still the best dragonrider!”

Her brothers groaned in playful annoyance, teasing her for being their father’s favorite. “Of course, she’d say that,” Aerion quipped, rolling his eyes dramatically.

As you watched the exchange, your heart swelled with pride. Your children were not only strong and fearless but deeply bonded to one another. Despite their teasing, their love and respect for Daemon — and for each other — were undeniable.

When the battle ended and the dragons began their descent, your children landed one by one, their faces flushed with excitement. Daemon was the last to dismount, shaking his head as he approached you. “They’re insufferable,” he muttered, though his smirk revealed his amusement.

You chuckled, reaching out to smooth his windswept hair. “They’re just like you,” you said, smiling fondly.

Daemon grunted, pulling you closer as your children ran toward you, their laughter filling the air. Vaelya threw her arms around Daemon, while Maegon and Aerion excitedly recounted their victory. Aelor and Vaegon tugged at your sleeves, eager to tell you about their dragons’ latest feats.

Surrounded by your family, you felt a deep sense of contentment. These were the moments you cherished most — the laughter, the love, and the unbreakable bond that tied you all together.

You gazed at your family seated around the long, grand table in the hall of Dragonstone, the warm glow of the torches casting flickering light upon their faces. Daemon sat at the head of the table, his silver hair catching the firelight as he leaned back in his chair, laughing at something Maegon had said.

Maegon, ever the confident eldest, was recounting his latest dragonriding exploits, his hands gesturing animatedly as he described how Verathor had outmaneuvered Caraxes in the skies. Vaelya, seated beside him, rolled her eyes playfully, a smirk on her lips as she cut into her roasted lamb.

“You only won because Father let you,” she quipped, her silver braid swinging as she turned to Daemon for confirmation.

Daemon chuckled, raising his goblet. “I’d never let any of you win. If Maegon bested me, it’s because I trained him too well,” he said, winking at his eldest son.

Aerion, sitting next to Vaelya, grinned mischievously. “Maybe next time we’ll team up, Vaelya. Even Caraxes wouldn’t stand a chance against the two of us.”

Vaelya narrowed her eyes at him. “You’d just slow me down, Aerion.”

Across the table, Aelor and Vaegon were engrossed in their own conversation, their young faces alight with excitement as they talked about their dragons. Elyrax and Thalaxion were already developing distinct personalities, and their bond with the youngest twins was clear.

You watched them all with a soft smile, your hands resting on your rounded belly. The twins within you kicked gently, as if sensing the joy in the room. Daemon caught your eye and raised his goblet toward you, his expression softening.

“To the Lady of Dragonstone,” he said, his voice warm and full of affection. “The one who holds us all together.”

The children joined in the toast, their voices overlapping as they cheered. You smiled, feeling a deep warmth in your chest as you looked around the table at the family you and Daemon had built together.

This was your sanctuary, your joy. The laughter, the teasing, the love—it was all you had ever hoped for. And as you listened to the lively chatter and felt the gentle movements of the twins you carried, you knew the future would hold even more of these cherished moments.

As the lively chatter at the table quieted, you cleared your throat softly, drawing everyone’s attention. All eyes turned toward you, and you suddenly felt the weight of your unspoken news. Daemon, seated beside you, tilted his head in curiosity, his sharp gaze locking onto yours.

“What is it, my love?” he asked, his voice laced with concern and intrigue.

The children, scattered along the grand table, paused their conversations. Vaelya arched an eyebrow, Maegon leaned forward slightly, and Aerion exchanged a curious glance with the twins, Aelor and Vaegon.

You hesitated, your hands instinctively moving to rest on your stomach, hidden beneath the soft fabric of your gown. The secret you had kept for months felt heavier now that you were about to speak it aloud. But the love and trust of your family gave you strength.

“I have something important to share with all of you,” you began, your voice steady but soft. You glanced briefly at Daemon, who was now watching you intently, his expression unreadable. “It’s news I’ve kept to myself for a little while, but I think it’s time you all know.”

The children exchanged glances, their curiosity growing.

“What is it, Mother?” Vaelya asked, her tone eager yet calm.

Taking a deep breath, you finally said the words. “I’m expecting another child.”

For a moment, silence filled the hall as your words settled over them. Daemon blinked, his eyes widening in shock. “Another… child?” he repeated, his voice almost a whisper, as if trying to confirm what he had just heard.

“Yes,” you said with a small, nervous smile. “We’re going to have another baby.”

The children erupted into cheers and exclamations.

“A new sibling!” Aerion grinned. “That’s incredible!”

“We’ll have to prepare the nursery again!” Maegon added, his initial shock giving way to excitement. Even the twins, usually more reserved, looked genuinely thrilled, their identical smiles lighting up the room.

Vaelya leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms with a teasing smile. “If it’s another brother, I’ll have to teach him some manners. I’m already outnumbered as it is.”

Daemon, however, remained quiet for a moment, his gaze fixed on you. Then, without a word, he rose from his seat and crossed the distance between you. Gently, he cupped your face in his hands, his eyes searching yours before a wide grin spread across his lips. “You kept this from me?” he asked, his tone half-amused, half-incredulous.

“I wanted to surprise you,” you admitted sheepishly.

He laughed, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “You’ve certainly done that, my love.”

As the children continued to celebrate, Daemon pulled you into a warm embrace, his hand resting protectively over your stomach. The warmth and joy that filled the hall were palpable, and for the first time in months, you felt completely at ease. This was your family, your strength, and your greatest happiness.

You stood by the window of your chamber, gazing out at the vast, dark sea stretching endlessly before you. The soft whisper of the waves blended with the cool night breeze, brushing gently against your face. The moonlight bathed the room in a silvery glow, casting shadows that danced across the walls.

Lost in thought, you barely noticed the sound of footsteps behind you until a familiar warmth enveloped you. Daemon’s arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you gently against him. His hand rested lightly on your growing belly, his touch both tender and protective.

He pressed a soft kiss to the crown of your head, his breath warm against your hair. “You shouldn’t be standing so long,” he murmured, his voice low and full of quiet affection.

You leaned back against his chest, finding solace in his steady presence. “I couldn’t sleep,” you admitted, your voice soft. “The sea… it calms me.”

He chuckled lightly, the vibration of his laugh rumbling in his chest. “And here I thought you might be admiring something else,” he teased, his tone playful but his embrace tightening ever so slightly.

A small smile tugged at your lips. “Perhaps I was,” you replied, tilting your head to glance up at him. His silver hair gleamed in the moonlight, and his sharp features softened as he looked down at you with a rare, unguarded expression.

Daemon leaned down, his lips brushing your temple as his hand gently caressed the curve of your belly. “Our child grows strong,” he whispered, pride evident in his voice. “And you—you’re remarkable, carrying them.”

You closed your eyes, letting the moment sink in. The weight of his words, the warmth of his touch, and the rhythmic sound of the waves all melded into a perfect harmony. For a fleeting moment, it was just the two of you and the life you were bringing into the world, wrapped in the quiet serenity of the night.

You walked slowly through the garden, your hand resting gently on your growing belly. The warm sunlight bathed the blooming flowers around you, and the gentle breeze carried the scent of jasmine and roses.

Above, the thunderous roars of dragons echoed through the sky, mingling with the bright laughter of your five children. You stopped for a moment, tilting your head back to take in the breathtaking sight.

Their dragons darted through the clouds, weaving intricate patterns as they chased one another. Maegon led the playful pursuit, his determined shouts urging the others to keep up. Vaelya, ever the fierce competitor, followed closely, her dragon’s wings cutting through the air with precision. Aerion, with his clever tactics, swooped around to intercept them, his laughter carrying down to you.

Your youngest twins, on their slightly smaller dragons, joined the game with enthusiastic squeals, their dragons roaring proudly despite their size.

A soft smile spread across your face as you watched them, your heart swelling with pride and joy. They were so free, so full of life, their bond with their dragons and each other unbreakable.

Your hand moved gently over your belly, feeling the faint but certain movements of the new life within you. “They’ll be waiting for you,” you murmured softly. “And I’m sure you’ll join them up there one day.”

Lost in the moment, you barely noticed Daemon approaching until you felt his arm slide around your waist. He followed your gaze to the sky, his lips curving into a smirk.

“They’re a pack of wildlings,” he teased, though his voice was full of affection.

“And you love it,” you replied, leaning into him.

He chuckled, placing a protective hand over yours on your belly. “Maybe one day, there’ll be even more dragons up there.”

You smiled at the thought, your gaze still fixed on your children as their laughter and the roars of dragons filled the sky. It was a moment of pure peace, a reminder of everything you had built together.

You walked alongside Daemon toward the lair where Caraxes rested. The sound of your footsteps echoed softly against the stone path as the faint roar of dragons filled the air.

When Caraxes saw you approach, the great red dragon lifted his elongated neck and moved forward with surprising gentleness. His sharp, intelligent eyes locked onto you, and instead of focusing on Daemon, he lowered his head and began to sniff curiously at your belly.

You couldn’t help but smile as Caraxes let out a low, rumbling growl of recognition, as if he understood the new life growing within you.

Daemon crossed his arms and let out an exaggerated huff. “Traitor,” he muttered, narrowing his eyes at his dragon.

You laughed softly, reaching out to pat Caraxes’ snout. “It seems he knows before anyone else, my love,” you teased, your hand brushing over your belly. “Perhaps he’s just more in tune with me than you are.”

Caraxes nudged you gently, a surprising act of care for such a fearsome creature, and you giggled at his affectionate gesture.

Daemon rolled his eyes, though the corners of his lips twitched with amusement. “I’m the one who rides him, feeds him, and yet here he is, fawning over you.”

You turned to him with a playful smile. “Perhaps he’s simply acknowledging the mother of your children—and his future rider’s parent.”

Daemon smirked and stepped closer to you, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Or perhaps he’s just testing my patience,” he quipped, though his voice was filled with warmth.

Caraxes let out a low, satisfied rumble as though he had won some unspoken contest. Daemon shook his head but pulled you closer, his protective gaze shifting between you and his loyal dragon.

You turned your head toward a dark cave not far from where Caraxes rested. A strange feeling prickled at the back of your neck, and you tilted your head slightly, as though straining to catch a faint sound.

Daemon frowned, his brows furrowing as he noticed your sudden distraction. “What is it?” he asked, his voice tinged with concern.

You hesitated for a moment, your eyes scanning the mouth of the cave. “I… I thought I heard something,” you murmured, your hand unconsciously moving to your belly. “Like someone calling my name.”

Daemon’s gaze followed yours to the cave, his expression turning skeptical. “There’s no one there,” he said firmly, stepping protectively closer to you. “Are you certain it wasn’t just the wind?”

You shook your head slowly, unsure. “It didn’t sound like the wind. It was…” You paused, struggling to find the words. “It was faint, but… familiar.”

Caraxes let out a low growl, his head snapping toward the cave, as though he, too, sensed something.

Daemon’s hand moved to the hilt of his sword instinctively. “Stay here,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“No, Daemon,” you said quickly, grabbing his arm. “If it’s nothing, there’s no need for you to risk yourself.”

He hesitated, glancing back at you, then toward the cave. “You’ve been restless of late,” he said softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “Perhaps it’s just your mind playing tricks on you.”

You nodded reluctantly, though you couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling creeping through you. Daemon led you away from the cave, his arm wrapped protectively around you, but your gaze lingered on the dark entrance, wondering what—or who—you might have heard.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. The quiet, soft whisper calling your name seemed to grow louder, more insistent, despite the absence of any visible source. You turned back towards the cave, your heart pounding in your chest. It was as if the very air around you had thickened, filled with a sense of foreboding that you couldn’t ignore. The wind had shifted, but it wasn’t the change in temperature or breeze that unsettled you. It was the call.

Daemon, still standing by your side, noticed the subtle shift in your demeanor. His sharp eyes followed your gaze towards the cave, then back at you, reading the unease in your posture. He knew you too well, and he could sense that something wasn’t right. But when he glanced back at the entrance to the cave, he saw nothing that could explain the anxiety that seemed to settle in your bones. “What is it?” he asked again, his voice tinged with concern but still a hint of uncertainty. “What’s wrong?”

You swallowed hard, trying to push the mounting anxiety down, but it was no use. “Daemon,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly, “do you hear it? The calling… it’s still there.”

Daemon furrowed his brow, shaking his head. “I don’t hear anything. It’s just the wind.”

But as you spoke, Caraxes, the great dragon, shifted his position. His massive body, usually so relaxed and calm, became tense, his eyes narrowing, his nostrils flaring. The dragon, a creature so in tune with his surroundings, seemed to sense something you couldn’t. The silence that hung in the air grew thicker, almost oppressive, and Caraxes let out a low, guttural growl, his massive head turning toward the cave, his wings flexing in readiness.

You instinctively took a step closer to Daemon, your breath shallow. “Caraxes… he’s acting strange,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, but there was no mistaking the concern in your tone. The dragon had never acted like this before, his movements sharp and watchful, his attention fixed on the cave, as though waiting for something to emerge.

Daemon turned back to the dragon, his expression hardening. He was no stranger to the instincts of his dragon, but this felt different, more urgent. He glanced at you, eyes searching your face, trying to read the fear that had crept into your expression. “We should go back to the castle,” Daemon said firmly, his hand reaching out to guide you. There was no hesitation in his voice, no argument. He had seen enough to know that something was wrong. He didn’t need to be convinced.

“I don’t like this, Daemon,” you muttered, still unable to shake the unease in your chest. You could feel your heart racing, the thumping echoing in your ears, the voice still faintly calling your name, but growing more distant with every passing second. It felt like something was waiting, something watching from the depths of the cave.

Daemon’s grip on your arm tightened, pulling you back towards the path leading away from the cave. He wasn’t taking any chances. “We’ll deal with it later, if necessary. Let’s go back now, before anything happens,” he said, his tone firm, almost protective.

You didn’t argue. The last thing you wanted was to be close to that cave any longer. You felt the presence of something lurking, something ancient, that you couldn’t fully understand, and it was pulling at your very soul. Daemon’s protective instincts had already kicked in, and you couldn’t deny that you felt safer with him by your side.

As you turned to leave, you glanced one last time at Caraxes, still poised and alert, his eyes watching the cave as if he too were waiting for something, or someone. The dragon’s unease mirrored your own, and it made your pulse quicken. What was it that lingered in the shadows of that cave?

But Daemon urged you forward, guiding you back towards the castle. The call faded with each step, the heavy presence lifting from the air, though the feeling of something unresolved still weighed on you. You weren’t sure what had just happened, or if it would come to anything, but you knew that something was out there. You could feel it deep in your bones.

As you returned to the safety of the castle, you could only hope that the strange pull from the cave was nothing more than a fleeting moment. But in the back of your mind, something told you that this wouldn’t be the last time you heard the whisper.

You sat with your daughter, Vaelya, in her room, gently brushing and braiding her silver hair. The soft glow of the afternoon light filtered through the windows, casting a warm hue over the room. She sat quietly, her hands resting on her lap, but her eyes sparkled with excitement as she handed you a small piece of fabric.

“I finished this today,” she said proudly, showing off her neat stitching. The design was simple, but her careful work and attention to detail were evident.

You smiled warmly, running your fingers over the stitches. “This is beautiful, Vaelya. You’ve done such a wonderful job.”

Her cheeks flushed at the compliment, but she beamed with pride. “I want to learn how to make clothes,” she said, turning to look at you with a determined expression. “So I can sew something for the new baby when they arrive.”

Your heart swelled at her words, and you placed a gentle kiss on the top of her head. “That’s very thoughtful of you, sweet girl. I’m sure your new sibling will cherish anything you make for them. And I’ll help you, if you’d like."

Vaelya nodded enthusiastically, her small hands gripping the fabric tightly. “I want it to be perfect. Something they can wear when they’re little and keep forever.”

You couldn’t help but smile, pride and love filling your chest as you looked at your daughter. She was growing up to be such a kind and caring soul, and moments like this reminded you of just how special she was. “It will be perfect, Vaelya, because it will be made with love.”

Vaelya looked up at you with her big, earnest eyes, her fingers toying with the edge of her fabric. “I hope the baby is a girl,” she said softly, almost shyly. “Sometimes, I feel lonely when my brothers go off to train with Father. They’re always together, and… it’s just me.”

You paused for a moment, your heart aching for your little girl. Setting down the comb, you leaned forward and cupped her face gently in your hands. “Oh, sweet one,” you said tenderly, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “I know it’s hard sometimes, but your brothers love you so much. And they’re never too far away.”

Vaelya nodded, her gaze dropping to her lap. “I know. But it would be nice to have someone to stay with me—someone like me.”

You smiled warmly and pulled her into a comforting embrace, stroking her hair as you whispered, “Perhaps the gods will hear your wish, my love. If they will it, then you may just get the sister you dream of. But even if the baby is another brother, he’ll still be a part of our family and love you just as much.”

She rested her head against your shoulder, her small arms wrapping around you. “I’ll love them either way,” she murmured, her voice muffled. “But I hope the gods are listening.”

You chuckled softly, kissing the top of her head. “We’ll have to wait and see. But no matter what, you’ll never be alone, Vaelya. You have a family that loves you more than anything, and that will never change.”

You leaned back slightly, looking into Vaelya’s eyes with a playful smile. “You know, my sweet girl, there’s something special about being the only daughter in this family.”

She tilted her head, curiosity lighting up her silver eyes. “What’s that, Mother?”

You brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear and said with a grin, “It means you’re the one who gets spoiled the most. Your father can never say no to you, can he? And your brothers? They’d move mountains just to see you smile.”

Vaelya giggled, her mood lifting. “That’s true! Father always lets me ride with him on Caraxes, even when my brothers have to wait.”

“Exactly,” you said, laughing along with her. “And when you want something, who’s the first to come running? It’s always your brothers, trying to outdo each other to make you happy. Don’t tell them, but I think you’ve got all of them wrapped around your little finger.”

She beamed, a spark of pride in her expression. “Maybe being the only girl isn’t so bad after all.”

You kissed her cheek and added, “It’s not bad at all. You’re their princess, Vaelya, and they’ll always treat you as such. No matter what, you’re cherished and loved beyond measure.”

Vaelya hugged you tightly, her arms wrapping around your waist. “Thank you, Mother. I feel much better now.”

You stroked her hair and whispered, “Good. Never forget how special you are, my darling. You’re the heart of this family, and nothing will ever change that.”

You jolted awake, your breaths coming in uneven gasps. The room was bathed in the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the window, casting long shadows on the walls. You instinctively turned to your side, finding Daemon still deep in slumber, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. He looked so peaceful, oblivious to the torment that plagued your mind.

You ran a trembling hand over your face, trying to steady your breathing. The voice—no, the thing—had followed you even into your dreams. This time, it wasn’t just the echo of your name whispered in a way that sent chills down your spine. No, this time, it was accompanied by the piercing gaze of two glowing yellow eyes, their stare burning into you as if they saw through every layer of your being.

Your hand instinctively moved to your belly, seeking the comfort of the life growing within you. The faint fluttering movements of your unborn child eased you slightly but did little to dispel the unease that had taken root.

You exhaled slowly, trying not to wake Daemon as you swung your legs over the edge of the bed. The cold stone floor against your bare feet sent a jolt through your body, grounding you momentarily. You paced quietly, your mind racing. Was this a warning? A sign? Or simply your imagination conjuring something from the depths of your fear?

Your gaze flicked to the window, the same one you had stared through earlier that day. The ocean beyond looked endless, and for a moment, you thought you saw something moving just beneath the surface of the moonlit waves. You shook your head, dismissing it as a trick of your exhausted mind.

A soft sound from the bed startled you, and you turned to see Daemon stirring. His hand reached out, searching for you in his sleep. His brow furrowed when he found the space beside him empty.

“Love?” he mumbled groggily, his voice thick with sleep. He sat up slightly, rubbing his eyes before his gaze found you standing near the window. “What are you doing? Come back to bed.”

You hesitated, debating whether to tell him what you had seen—what you had felt. But the weight of it was too much to carry alone. Slowly, you crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed, your back to him.

“The voice,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “It was in my dreams tonight. But this time, it wasn’t just a voice. There were eyes—yellow eyes—staring at me. Watching me.”

Daemon sat up fully now, his concern evident in the way he placed a firm hand on your shoulder. “Yellow eyes?” he repeated, his tone sharpening. “What else?”

You shook your head, clutching his hand for strength. “That’s all. But it felt so… real, Daemon. I can still feel them, as if they’re watching me even now.”

Daemon’s grip tightened protectively. “Whatever it is, I won’t let it come near you or our children,” he said firmly, his voice laced with determination. “I’ll find out what’s behind this, I swear it.”

You nodded, leaning into his embrace. Yet, even as his arms wrapped around you, shielding you from the world, the memory of those yellow eyes lingered, a haunting reminder that something—or someone—was waiting in the shadows.

You woke up to the warmth of sunlight streaming into your chamber, bathing the room in golden hues. Your hand instinctively reached out to the space beside you, only to find it empty. Daemon’s absence was unusual. You turned your gaze to the window, noting that the sun was already high in the sky—a clear sign you had slept in later than usual.

Quickly, you rose from the bed, your movements a little slower due to the weight of your pregnancy. After a moment of washing and dressing with the help of your maidservants, you made your way toward the Great Hall, curious as to where your husband might be.

As you approached, the lively chatter of your children reached your ears, bringing a small smile to your face. Entering the hall, you saw all five of them gathered together, their silver hair gleaming in the sunlight as they talked animatedly. Each of them was full of life, their bond as siblings evident in their laughter and shared smiles.

“Good morning, my darlings,” you greeted, your voice warm. They all turned toward you, their faces lighting up at the sight of you. Vaelya was the first to rush over, wrapping her small arms around you as she glanced at your growing belly.

“Good morning, Mother,” she said sweetly. “We were just talking about dragons.”

“Of course you were,” you replied with a chuckle, brushing her hair back affectionately. The boys approached next, all of them brimming with energy as they greeted you.

Despite the joy of seeing your children, your eyes scanned the hall for Daemon. “And where is your father this morning?” you asked.

The children exchanged glances before Maegon, the eldest of your triplets, answered, “He left early. He said he had something to handle with Caraxes.”

“Something important,” Vaelya added, frowning slightly. “But he wouldn’t tell us what.”

You nodded, trying to hide your concern. It wasn’t unusual for Daemon to disappear for a time, especially when it came to matters involving Caraxes, but his absence felt different today. Something about it unsettled you.

“Did he say when he’d return?” you pressed gently.

Aerion shrugged. “No, but he told us to take care of you.”

Your heart warmed at their father’s thoughtfulness. “Well, I suppose we’ll see him when he returns,” you said, smoothing over your worry with a smile. “Now, tell me more about these dragons you’ve been discussing.”

For the moment, you decided to focus on your children, listening as they excitedly shared their thoughts on dragon lore and their dreams of flying. But in the back of your mind, the question lingered: where had Daemon gone, and why hadn’t he told you?

You watching your older triplets—Maegon, Vaelya, and Aerion—engaged in their Valyrian lessons. Their voices rose and fell rhythmically, perfectly mimicking the fluid cadence of the ancient tongue. They had taken to the language naturally, their silver-haired heads bent over their scrolls as they recited lines of poetry and prose with pride and precision. You couldn’t help but smile, a deep sense of pride swelling within you.

Not far away, your two youngest children sat on a soft rug, their giggles and cheerful chatter filling the room. They weren’t yet old enough for formal lessons like their elder siblings, but their curiosity had already begun to bloom. The maester patiently read to them from a large tome, recounting tales of your family’s storied history, while they listened with wide, fascinated eyes. Occasionally, their little hands darted out to point at the illustrations, followed by an excited string of questions.

You leaned against the wall, your hand instinctively resting on your growing belly. The faint movements within reminded you of the life you were nurturing, the next addition to your family. Your children, your legacy, were everything to you. Watching them thrive—both in their studies and their play—filled you with an overwhelming sense of fulfillment.

A soft knock at the door pulled you from your thoughts. Turning, you found one of your trusted handmaidens waiting. “My lady, everything is ready for your midday meal,” she said with a bow.

You nodded, glancing back at your children one last time before you stepped into the room. “Come now, my little dragons,” you said warmly, your voice drawing their attention. “It’s time to eat.”

Your older children exchanged a quick look before closing their scrolls, standing to join you with polite smiles. The younger two bounded toward you, their excitement spilling into laughter as they took your hands. The maester rose as well, bowing respectfully before excusing himself.

As you walked with your children, you felt a deep sense of contentment. Whatever challenges lay ahead, you knew you had built something truly special—a family bound not only by blood but by love, trust, and the indomitable strength of your shared lineage.

You sat at the head of the table, your five children surrounding you, their laughter and lively chatter filling the room. Maegon, as usual, was up to his tricks, teasing Aerion by slipping a piece of fruit onto his plate when he wasn’t looking. Aerion caught on quickly, retaliating with a playful shove that almost knocked over a goblet.

“Careful, boys,” you said with a laugh, shaking your head. Vaelya rolled her eyes dramatically at her brothers, muttering something about how they were always so loud during meals, which only made the twins laugh harder. The younger two watched with wide, amused eyes, their small hands clutching at their cups as they giggled at their older siblings’ antics.

Despite the warmth and joy around you, your eyes kept drifting toward the door. Daemon had been gone since early morning, and his absence weighed heavily on you. He was rarely away from meals, especially when the whole family was gathered. A seed of worry had taken root in your chest, and no matter how hard you tried to ignore it, the feeling lingered.

“Mother, are you all right?” Vaelya’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. Her sharp, observant gaze was fixed on you, her silver brows slightly furrowed in concern.

You smiled softly and reached out to squeeze her hand. “I’m fine, my love. Just a little distracted.”

Maegon leaned back in his chair, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. “Father’s probably off somewhere brooding over his sword. Or maybe Caraxes is keeping him company.”

Aerion snorted, but it was Vaelya who scolded her brother. “You shouldn’t say such things. Father will be here soon.”

Her words, though confident, didn’t entirely reassure you. You forced yourself to smile again, hoping it was enough to ease their concerns. “I’m sure he’ll join us shortly,” you said, though you weren’t entirely convinced yourself.

As the meal continued, you did your best to focus on your children, laughing at their jokes and encouraging their conversations. But every so often, your gaze would flicker back to the door, your heart silently willing Daemon to walk through it and ease the growing unease within you.

The soft crunch of gravel beneath your feet echoed through the serene garden, the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze offering a soothing accompaniment. Yet, despite the tranquil surroundings, your thoughts were anything but calm. Daemon’s prolonged absence gnawed at your mind, an unwelcome companion to the unease that had lingered since the strange dream.

You stopped by the edge of the fountain, its crystal-clear water reflecting the late afternoon sun. Your hand instinctively rested on your growing belly, seeking comfort in the steady rhythm of life stirring within you. The memory of those piercing yellow eyes from your dream resurfaced, sending a shiver down your spine.

Was it just a dream? Or something more?

You tried to push the thought aside, telling yourself it was nothing more than your imagination playing tricks on you. Yet, the way Caraxes had reacted near the caves, the whispers you’d heard… it all felt too coincidental.

The garden, usually a place of peace and joy, now felt slightly different—like the air itself was heavier, the shadows longer. You glanced around, your sharp instincts picking up on the faintest rustling in the bushes nearby.

“Daemon,” you murmured under your breath, your voice filled with a mixture of longing and worry.

But no one answered.

You continued to walk, your hands tracing the blooms of the roses you passed, their soft petals grounding you for the moment. Yet, your mind remained restless, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on you. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was coming, something just beyond your understanding.

For now, all you could do was wait—and hope that Daemon returned soon to ease the storm inside your heart.

The dim light of the late afternoon barely penetrated the entrance of the cave as you stood there, frozen in a mix of awe and apprehension. The cool, damp air from the cave brushed against your skin, carrying with it the unmistakable scent of earth and something more—something ancient, something powerful.

Your heartbeat quickened, a steady drum in your chest, as your eyes adjusted to the darkness. You took a tentative step forward, then another, the sound of your soft footfalls echoing faintly against the stone walls.

And then, you saw them.

Two glowing yellow eyes pierced the shadows, the very same eyes that had haunted your dreams. They watched you, unblinking, radiating an intelligence and intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

A low, rumbling growl filled the cavern, deep and resonant, reverberating through your bones. It wasn’t a sound of anger, but one of acknowledgement—a call, an answer, a connection.

As you stepped closer, the massive form of the dragon began to take shape in the dim light. Its scales were a deep shade of black, glistening faintly like polished obsidian, with streaks of gold running along its massive body. Its wings were folded close to its sides, but even so, you could sense the sheer power they held.

This was the creature that had been calling you. The voice you’d heard in your dreams, the presence you’d felt lingering in your thoughts—it was this dragon.

You took another step forward, your hand instinctively resting on your belly as if to shield the life growing within you. The dragon’s eyes shifted briefly to your hand, and you could feel a strange, almost protective energy emanating from it.

It lowered its massive head, bringing its snout closer to you, and let out a soft huff of warm air. The gesture felt like a test, as if it were gauging your courage, your resolve.

You reached out with trembling fingers, your heart pounding in your chest. As your hand made contact with the dragon’s scaled snout, a surge of warmth and energy coursed through you. It wasn’t just the touch of a dragon—it was a bond forming, a connection being forged.

This dragon had been waiting for you.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself as you whispered softly, “You’ve been calling me, haven’t you?”

The dragon let out a low rumble in response, its eyes closing briefly as if in agreement. This was no ordinary creature—it was a dragon of destiny, one that had chosen you, not just as its rider, but as its equal.

For the first time in days, the unease that had plagued you lifted. In its place was a sense of purpose, a sense of belonging. Whatever challenges lay ahead, you knew you wouldn’t face them alone.

You stepped out of the dark cave, the sunlight momentarily blinding you as the dragon followed closely behind. The ground beneath you vibrated faintly with each heavy step the massive creature took. Its obsidian scales glinted in the light, making it appear both menacing and magnificent.

As you lifted your gaze, your eyes met Daemon’s. He stood a short distance away, his sword still sheathed, his chest rising and falling as though he’d run to find you. His expression was a mixture of shock, concern, and something else—awe.

His sharp eyes left yours and shifted to the beast that loomed behind you, its golden eyes meeting his for a moment before it let out a low, rumbling growl that reverberated through the air. Caraxes, perched on a ridge not far away, responded with a hiss, his long neck stretching out as if to assert his dominance.

“Gods,” Daemon finally breathed, his voice rough with emotion. He took a step toward you, his eyes darting between you and the dragon. “You’ve bonded with it.”

You nodded, your hand instinctively moving to rest on your swollen belly. “It has been calling me, Daemon,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions. “In my dreams, in my thoughts. It was waiting for me.”

Daemon’s gaze flicked to the dragon again, his jaw tightening. “You entered the cave alone?” His voice held a hint of reproach, but it was overshadowed by the amazement in his tone.

“I had to,” you replied firmly. “This bond… it was meant to be.”

The dragon behind you lowered its massive head, releasing a deep, resonating growl as if to agree. Daemon’s lips parted slightly, and he shook his head in disbelief. He took another step closer, now standing directly in front of you.

“You never cease to surprise me,” he murmured, his hand brushing your cheek briefly before sliding down to rest on your belly. His other hand gestured toward the dragon. “What do you plan to name this beast?”

You turned, looking back at the dragon whose glowing golden eyes still watched you intently. A name formed in your mind, as if it had been waiting there all along.

“Aryx,” you said softly, the name feeling like a perfect match for the creature’s power and grace.

Daemon tilted his head, considering the name before nodding approvingly. “Aryx,” he echoed. “Fitting for one as formidable as this.”

You smiled faintly and looked back at him. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

Daemon smirked faintly, his usual arrogance returning to his expression. “Worry me? You’ll be the death of me one day, woman.” His tone was teasing, but the way his hand lingered on you spoke volumes of his relief.

With one last glance at Aryx, Daemon turned back to you. “Come. You’ll have to explain all of this to the children. And I suppose you’ll want them to meet your new companion.”

You chuckled softly, feeling the weight of his arm wrap protectively around your shoulders as he led you back toward the keep. Behind you, Aryx released a mighty roar, the sound echoing across the cliffs, declaring its presence to the world.

As you walked alongside Daemon toward the training grounds, you could already hear the excited chatter of your children and the occasional roars of their dragons. The sight before you warmed your heart: Maegon, Vaelya, Aerion, and the twins were bustling around, preparing their saddles and checking their dragons. The bond they shared with their mighty companions was unbreakable, and it showed in every gesture and movement.

Daemon glanced at you with a knowing smirk. “They’ve grown so much,” he said, pride lacing his tone. “Soon they’ll rival even the best riders in the Seven Kingdoms.”

You nodded, your gaze never leaving your children. “They are remarkable,” you said softly. “But that is no surprise—they take after their father."

Daemon chuckled, his arm brushing against yours. “And their mother, who seems determined to keep surprising me.”

As the children mounted their dragons, Daemon turned to you with a playful glint in his eyes. “Come, let us join them. You shouldn’t just watch from the ground.”

You shook your head with a smile, placing a hand on his arm. “Not yet. Go with them, Daemon. I’ll follow soon enough.”

He raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued, but he didn’t press further. “As you wish,” he said with a shrug, leaning in to kiss your temple before walking toward Caraxes.

You watched as your family took to the skies, their dragons soaring into the clouds with powerful wingbeats. Their laughter and cheers echoed down to you, filling the air with a sense of joy and freedom.

Once they were high above, you turned back toward the path leading to Aryx’s cave. The dragon waited for you, his golden eyes watching your every move. With steady determination, you approached and climbed onto his back, feeling the surge of power beneath you as he rose to his full height.

“Let’s give them a surprise,” you murmured to Aryx, and with a mighty roar, he took off.

The wind rushed past you, and the exhilaration of flying filled your chest. As you ascended higher, you spotted your family in the distance. Your children were the first to notice, their astonished faces turning toward you. Vaelya’s delighted laugh rang out, and Maegon pointed, shouting something to Aerion.

Daemon turned, his eyes widening in disbelief as Aryx flew closer. His smirk grew into a full grin as he shook his head, clearly impressed.

You and Aryx joined the formation, gliding gracefully alongside your family. The children circled you, cheering and calling out to Aryx, who responded with a roar of his own. Daemon guided Caraxes closer, his voice carrying over the wind.

“You’ve outdone yourself this time, my love!” he shouted, his grin unrelenting.

You laughed, your heart swelling with pride and happiness. For a moment, as you soared through the skies with your family, all was perfect, and the world felt entirely yours.

As the wind rushed past your face, you couldn’t help but feel a familiar exhilaration coursing through your veins. This wasn’t your first time in the skies; you had flown before, though on Caraxes, with Daemon close behind to guide you. Those moments had been thrilling but restrained, as you were a guest on his dragon, not its rider.

But this—this was different. Sitting atop Aryx, feeling the immense power beneath you, was a completely new sensation. His every movement responded to your unspoken commands, the bond between you forming as if it had always been there.

You recalled Daemon’s words from years ago, the first time you’d mounted Caraxes. “You have the blood of the dragon in your veins,” he’d said, his voice steady with confidence. “It’s time you learned what that means.”

At the time, you’d been nervous but determined. Riding Caraxes had been a test, one that you had passed. Even then, you had felt the connection, the sense of belonging that came with being a Targaryen, a child of fire and blood. But riding another’s dragon, no matter how trusted, was nothing like this.

Aryx was yours. His golden eyes mirrored the fire that burned within you, and his roars seemed to echo the strength you had always carried. It was as if he had been waiting for you all along, waiting for the right moment to be claimed.

Now, as you soared alongside your family, you understood what it truly meant to be a dragonrider. Your mother’s legacy, the Targaryen blood that coursed through your veins, had made this moment possible.

Your children’s cheers and laughter brought you back to the present. Vaelya waved enthusiastically, her silver hair whipping in the wind. “Mother, you look magnificent!” she called out, her voice brimming with excitement.

Daemon, ever the watchful husband, guided Caraxes closer. His eyes gleamed with pride as he glanced at Aryx, then back at you. “I should have known you wouldn’t settle for anything less than your own dragon,” he teased, his voice warm.

You smirked, feeling more confident than ever. “I am a Targaryen, after all,” you replied, your tone playful but resolute.

The skies were alive with the sound of dragons and laughter, and for the first time in a long while, you felt utterly complete. This was your family, your legacy, and your destiny. The dragon within you had awakened, and there was no turning back.

As your feet touched the ground, the adrenaline of the flight still coursing through you, your children came running toward you with wide smiles and eyes alight with excitement.

“Mother, you were incredible!” Maegon exclaimed, his face flushed with admiration. Vaelya nodded vigorously, her silver hair shimmering in the sunlight. “You looked so powerful, flying alongside us!”

Aerion smirked, crossing his arms. “I think Aryx suits you better than Caraxes ever did,” he teased, earning a chuckle from his siblings.

You smiled warmly at them, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “It seems I’ve made the right choice,” you said, glancing back at Aryx, who settled on the ground behind you with a proud huff.

Daemon approached you then, his expression softer than usual, though his eyes still carried that glint of mischief. He placed a hand gently on your stomach, his touch warm and familiar. “The blood of the dragon runs strong in you,” he murmured, his voice laced with pride.

You chuckled softly, resting your hand over his. “And in them too,” you replied, glancing at your children, who were now animatedly talking about your flight.

Daemon leaned closer, his voice low so only you could hear. “You continue to surprise me, my love. First, you claim a dragon, and now you carry another part of our legacy.”

You met his gaze, your smile softening. “This is only the beginning, Daemon,” you whispered, a sense of quiet determination in your tone.

The moment was filled with the warmth of family, the strength of your bond, and the unyielding pride of being part of the Targaryen legacy. Together, as the dragons roared softly in the background, you felt unstoppable.

Time seemed to move swiftly, and now you were in the final months of your pregnancy. Your growing belly made every movement more deliberate, yet you couldn’t help but feel restless under the watchful eyes of Daemon, Maegon, and Aerion.

They had practically barricaded you in your chambers, determined to ensure you rested properly. “Mother, you need to think of the babies,” Maegon would say, his tone a perfect echo of Daemon’s sternness. Aerion, equally protective, would add, “You promised to stay in bed. Don’t make us get Father involved.”

Even Vaelya, your usually gentle daughter, seemed to side with her brothers, albeit with a softer touch. “It’s only a few more weeks, Mother,” she’d plead, her silver hair cascading over her shoulders as she helped adjust your pillows. “You’ll see your dragon again soon.”

The restriction stung most when you thought of Aryx. The bond you had formed with your dragon was unlike anything else, and the thought of not visiting him made your heart ache. Yet every time you mentioned it, Daemon would shoot you a look that left no room for argument.

“I’ll not risk you or our children,” he declared one evening as he sat beside you, his hand resting protectively on your swollen belly. “Aryx will wait, but these little dragons need you here.”

You sighed, leaning back against the pillows. “I’m surrounded by dragons,” you teased lightly, though the frustration lingered in your voice.

Daemon smirked, leaning closer. “Indeed, and they all take after me,” he replied, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

Despite their protectiveness, you couldn’t deny the love and care surrounding you. Even if it meant enduring the confinement for a while longer, you knew it was born of their devotion to you and the new life growing inside you.

Despite the strict orders from Daemon and your sons, you rarely followed them to the letter. You valued your moments of freedom, however small, and the garden became your secret escape.

Whenever Daemon and the children flew together with their dragons, you took the opportunity to slip away from your chambers. With the help of your most trusted handmaidens and guards, you ensured no word of your little excursions ever reached your overprotective family.

Clad in a simple cloak to conceal yourself, you carefully made your way to the garden. The fresh air and the vibrant colors of the flowers felt like a reprieve from the monotony of your confinement. You would sit beneath the shade of a tree, your hand gently resting on your swollen belly as you gazed up at the sky.

Above, the sight of your children soaring through the air on their dragons filled you with pride and joy. You could hear their laughter echoing through the clouds as they raced one another or practiced aerial maneuvers. Aryx’s occasional roar would mix with the sounds of the other dragons, a reminder of the bond you had with him, even if you couldn’t be by his side.

You often whispered to the babies in your belly, “One day, you’ll fly too. Your siblings will teach you everything.”

When their flights ended and they descended back to the ground, you made sure to return to your chambers before anyone noticed your absence. The guards and servants who had kept your secret offered you subtle smiles, understanding the importance of these small moments of peace.

But you knew it was only a matter of time before Daemon or one of your children caught on to your little rebellion. And when that day came, you were sure there would be a lecture—likely from all of them. Until then, you relished these fleeting moments of freedom under the open sky.

As you sat beneath your favorite tree, the soothing breeze ruffling your hair, a familiar voice broke the peaceful silence.

“Mother!” Maegon’s voice echoed through the garden, firm and laced with disapproval. “Why are you not in bed?”

You flinched slightly and turned to see your eldest son striding toward you, his silver hair shining under the sunlight. Aerion followed close behind, his arms crossed, wearing an expression that mirrored his brother’s irritation. Vaelya trailed behind them, her lips pressed into a thin line, clearly torn between supporting her brothers and sympathizing with you.

“I needed some fresh air,” you replied, trying to sound casual as you adjusted your position under the tree. “I promise I’m being careful.”

“That’s not the point, Mother,” Aerion said, his tone exasperated. “You’re supposed to be resting. Father specifically said—”

“Oh, your father,” you interrupted with a soft laugh. “He’ll scold me enough when he finds out. Do you really have to add to it?”

Vaelya stepped forward, her expression softening as she knelt beside you. “Mother, we’re just worried. You’re in your last months, and we don’t want anything to happen to you or the babies.”

Her gentle words tugged at your heart, and you reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “I know, my darling. But I promise I’m not doing anything reckless.”

Maegon knelt in front of you, his hands resting on his knees. “At least let us bring you back to your chambers,” he insisted, his voice softer now but still firm.

“And what of your flight practice?” you asked, tilting your head playfully.

Aerion shook his head. “We’ll return to it after we make sure you’re safely back where you belong.”

You sighed, knowing there was no arguing with them. “Fine,” you relented with a small smile. “But you’ll have to help me up. Your little siblings are making it quite difficult for me to move around these days.”

All three of them immediately moved to assist you, their concern evident in their careful movements. As Maegon and Aerion supported you on either side, Vaelya stayed close, keeping an eye on you as if to ensure you didn’t try to escape their watchful care again.

As you walked back toward the castle, you chuckled softly to yourself. “You’re all so much like your father,” you murmured, earning a collective groan from your children.

“Someone has to be,” Maegon replied with a smirk, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

As you walked back to your chambers with Maegon, Aerion, and Vaelya, you felt the sharp pangs of contraction intensify. Your hand instinctively went to your swollen belly, your breathing becoming shallow as you tried to hide the pain from your children.

“Mother, are you alright?” Vaelya asked, her brows furrowing in concern as she stayed close to you.

“I’m fine, sweet girl,” you replied, offering her a reassuring smile despite the discomfort. “Just help me get to my chambers.”

Once inside, you eased yourself onto the bed, your breaths coming heavier. “Maegon, Aerion,” you said, your voice calm but firm. “Go find your father and bring him here. Tell him it’s urgent.”

Both boys nodded, though worry was evident in their expressions. “We’ll bring him right away,” Maegon assured you before he and Aerion quickly left the room.

Vaelya stayed by your side, her small hands reaching out to hold yours. “Is it time, Mother?” she asked softly, her voice a mix of excitement and nervousness.

“It seems so,” you said, stroking her silver hair to calm her. “But don’t worry, my darling. Everything will be alright.”

She nodded, though her grip on your hand tightened as another contraction hit you. You closed your eyes, taking deep breaths to steady yourself.

“Shall I fetch the maester?” Vaelya offered, her tone eager to help.

“Not yet,” you said, squeezing her hand gently. “Stay with me for a moment. Your brothers and father will be back soon.”

The two of you sat together, the room filled with a quiet tension as you braced yourself for what was to come. Despite the pain, you found comfort in Vaelya’s presence, her strength reminding you of how much she was growing into her own.

You exhaled shakily, gripping Vaelya’s hand as another wave of contractions rippled through you. “Vaelya,” you said softly but firmly, “go now and fetch the maester—”

Before she could respond, the door swung open. Daemon strode in, his expression a mix of worry and urgency, followed closely by Maegon, Aerion, and your younger sons, each looking equally anxious. Behind them came the maester and a group of midwives, already prepared for what lay ahead.

Daemon’s violet eyes locked onto you immediately as he crossed the room in quick strides. “I told you to rest,” he said, though his tone was less scolding and more laced with concern. He knelt beside the bed, gently taking your free hand. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you managed, though your voice wavered. “It’s time, Daemon.”

Vaelya stepped aside as the maester and midwives moved to your side, their practiced hands beginning preparations. Your sons stood awkwardly by the door, unsure whether to stay or leave, until Daemon turned to them with a commanding but gentle tone.

“Take your sister to the other chamber,” he said, glancing back at Vaelya, who hesitated for a moment. “Stay together and wait for news. I’ll come for you when it’s over.”

Vaelya nodded, her lip trembling slightly as she cast one last glance at you. “Be strong, Mother,” she whispered before Maegon gently guided her out, his arm protectively around her shoulders.

Once the door closed behind them, Daemon turned back to you, his hands moving to steady you as another contraction surged through your body. “You’ll be alright,” he said softly, his voice steady and reassuring. “I’m here. We’re doing this together.”

You gripped his hand tightly, drawing strength from his presence as the maester gave quiet instructions to the midwives. The room filled with focused energy, and despite the pain, you felt a surge of determination. Soon, your family would grow once more.

You screamed as another wave of pain tore through you, your grip on Daemon’s hand tightening until your knuckles turned white. The maester and midwives moved swiftly around you, preparing for the imminent birth, but your focus was entirely on the searing discomfort and the man at your side.

Daemon leaned in closer, his voice low and soothing as he murmured, “You’re strong, my love. You’ve done this before, and you’ll do it again. Breathe with me—”

You shot him a glare sharp enough to rival the edge of Dark Sister. “Easy for you to say,” you snapped through gritted teeth, your tone biting despite the exhaustion. “You’re not the one pushing out your insufferable offspring.”

Daemon smirked faintly, though there was a flicker of guilt in his violet eyes. “Fair enough,” he murmured, brushing damp strands of hair away from your face. “But you’ve always been stronger than me. You’ll survive this, as you always do, and I’ll be here every step of the way.”

Another contraction tore through you, cutting off any retort you might have had. Instead, you groaned loudly, your head falling back against the pillows. Daemon tightened his hold on your hand, his face now entirely serious. “You’re almost there,” he said firmly, his voice unwavering. “Focus. You can do this.”

Despite your irritation, his presence grounded you. As much as you wanted to yell at him for being infuriatingly calm, his unwavering support gave you a sliver of comfort amidst the chaos.

With a guttural scream, you pushed with every ounce of strength you had, your cries echoing through the chamber. Tears streamed down your face as the pain overwhelmed you, but you didn’t stop. The maester’s voice was a distant murmur, urging you to keep going, but all you could focus on was the burning pressure and the sound of your own labored breathing.

From outside, a deep, resonant roar cut through the night—a sound that sent shivers down the spine of everyone in the castle. Your dragon’s call was filled with raw emotion, almost as if it mirrored your pain, your struggle. It was a bond deeper than words, one that transcended distance.

Daemon’s hand was in yours, his grip firm yet reassuring. His voice, usually so confident and commanding, was filled with worry as he whispered, “Almost there, my love. Just a little more. You’ve got this.”

The roar of your dragon grew louder, shaking the very walls, as if demanding your triumph. It was a primal connection—beast and rider, enduring the agony together. The sound gave you strength, a reminder of the power that ran through your veins.

You cried out, gripping the sheets with trembling hands as the maester urged you to push once more. The pain was overwhelming, your body strained beyond its limits, but you knew you were close. Tears streamed down your face as you screamed again, the sound of your agony echoing through the room.

Outside, the roar of your dragon reverberated through the castle walls, a deep, mournful sound that seemed to resonate with your very soul. It was as if the creature could feel every ounce of your pain, sharing in your struggle even from a distance.

“One more push, my lady,” the maester’s voice broke through the haze. “You can do this.”

With every ounce of strength left in you, you pushed, your cries blending with the primal roar of your dragon. And then, suddenly, the tension broke, and the room filled with the sound of a baby’s cry.

Tears of relief and joy blurred your vision as you collapsed back onto the bed, trembling and breathless. Daemon’s grip on your hand tightened, his own eyes shining with unshed tears.

“It’s a girl,” the maester announced with a small smile, carefully wrapping your daughter in a soft cloth before placing her in your arms.

You gazed down at the tiny, wriggling bundle, her silver hair already glinting faintly in the dim candlelight. Her cries quieted as she felt your warmth, her little fists opening and closing as if reaching for you.

Daemon leaned closer, his hand brushing gently against the baby’s head. “A daughter,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “She’s perfect.”

Outside, your dragon’s roar softened, almost as if it, too, was calming down now that the ordeal was over. You smiled weakly, kissing your daughter’s forehead as you whispered, “Welcome to the world, little one.”

You cradled your newborn daughter gently in your arms, her tiny fingers curling around your thumb. Her soft cries had subsided, and now she rested peacefully against your chest. A smile spread across your face as you admired her delicate features. She was perfect in every way.

The door creaked open, and you turned your head to see Vaelya standing there, her silver hair glinting in the candlelight and her violet eyes wide with joy. Her small hands were clasped together, trembling slightly as if she couldn’t contain her excitement.

“She’s here,” Vaelya whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “My sister…”

You beckoned her closer, and she hesitated only a moment before rushing to your side. She gazed down at the baby in awe, her eyes shimmering with tears. “She’s so small,” she murmured, brushing a finger gently across her sister’s tiny hand. “She’s beautiful.”

Before you could respond, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the corridor. Moments later, the door burst open, and your four sons came rushing in, their laughter and voices filling the room.

“Where is she?” Maegon demanded, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on the bundle in your arms. Aerion followed closely behind, shushing his younger brothers even though his own excitement was barely contained.

Vaelya stepped aside reluctantly to give them room, though her protective stance didn’t go unnoticed. Each of the boys took turns peering at their new sister, their expressions a mixture of fascination and pride.

“She’s tiny,” Aerion observed with a grin, his tone teasing. “Like a hatchling."

“She’s a princess,” Maegon corrected him, his voice firm. “And she’ll grow into a dragon, just like us.”

“She already has,” Vaelya interjected, her voice soft but unwavering. “She’s my sister.”

You watched the scene with tears in your eyes, your heart swelling as your children gathered around you. They bickered playfully over who would protect her the most, but their love for their new sibling was already evident.

As the noise subsided, Daemon stepped back into the room, his gaze falling on the six of you. He didn’t say a word but crossed the room to stand by your side, his hand resting on your shoulder.

“She’s ours,” you whispered, looking up at him with a smile. “All of them are.”

“And they’re perfect,” Daemon replied, his voice low with pride as he leaned down to press a kiss to your temple.

Vaelya turned to Daemon with wide, pleading eyes, her excitement almost tangible. “May I name her, Father? Please?” she asked, her voice soft but filled with hope.

Daemon raised an eyebrow, glancing at you with a small smirk. “Do you think you’re ready for such a responsibility, little dragon?” he teased, though his tone was warm.

Vaelya straightened her shoulders, her expression determined. “I am. I’ve been waiting for this moment.”

He chuckled, nodding. “Very well, then. Let’s hear it.”

Vaelya hesitated only for a moment before stepping closer to you, her gaze fixed on her baby sister. “Her name is Nyelarys,” she announced proudly, her voice steady. “It means ‘radiant one’ in High Valyrian. She will shine brighter than the stars, and her fire will be as strong as any dragon.”

The room fell silent as everyone absorbed the name. Daemon tilted his head, a rare softness in his expression as he repeated the name quietly to himself. “Nyelarys,” he said, testing the sound. Then, he nodded in approval. “A fitting name. You’ve done well, Vaelya.”

Your sons, standing nearby, each murmured their agreement, though they couldn’t resist throwing in a few playful comments about who would teach Nyelarys to ride a dragon or wield a sword.

You smiled at Vaelya, your heart swelling with pride. “It’s perfect,” you said softly, stroking her hair. “Just like you.”

Vaelya’s cheeks flushed with happiness, and she looked down at her sister with a radiant smile. “Welcome to the family, Nyelarys,” she whispered.

You smiled warmly at Vaelya as she gazed at her baby sister, her silver hair shining in the soft light of the chamber. “Would you like to hold her?” you asked gently.

Vaelya’s eyes widened, and she looked at you, almost hesitant. “May I?” she asked softly, her voice filled with wonder.

You nodded, adjusting Nyelarys in your arms before carefully passing her to Vaelya. “Of course. Just be gentle.”

Vaelya sat on the edge of the bed, her movements careful and precise. She cradled Nyelarys in her arms, her hands supporting the baby’s head the way you had shown her. For a moment, she simply stared at her little sister, her expression a mixture of awe and adoration.

“She’s so tiny,” Vaelya whispered, a smile tugging at her lips. “And beautiful.”

You watched the tender moment, your heart swelling with pride. “She’s lucky to have a sister like you, Vaelya,” you said softly.

Vaelya looked up at you, her eyes shining. “I’ll protect her. Always. Just like you and Father protect us.”

Your throat tightened at her words, and you leaned forward to kiss her temple. “I know you will,” you murmured.

Nyelarys let out a soft coo, and Vaelya laughed quietly, brushing a finger against the baby’s cheek. “I’ll teach her everything I know,” she said, her voice filled with determination.

The sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway, and you both turned toward the door just as Daemon and your sons returned. Each of them held a cloth-covered bundle, their faces alight with excitement.

“We’ve chosen the perfect egg,” Maegon announced proudly, his voice echoing in the room. Aerion added with a grin, “Father made us climb the hardest path to find it.”

Daemon smirked, holding up the egg he’d chosen. “Only the best for our little princess,” he said, his tone teasing as he walked over to you and Vaelya.

Vaelya glanced down at her sister, then back at the egg. “It will hatch,” she said with confidence. “It has to. She’s one of us.”

You exchanged a knowing look with Daemon as the boys gathered around, their excitement filling the room. It was a moment that reminded you of the strength and love within your family, one that would endure for generations.

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