jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

[jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels]

I was helping my Mom get her Christmas decor out of the attic and came across an old popcorn tin that was full of these ornaments. Some belonged to my parents, they haven’t been used since I was a child, but the rest were my grandfathers. I can’t help but wonder how many Christmases these have seen. How many trees they’ve hung on. If they could talk, I’d listen whole heartedly to the stories of all the holidays before.

[jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels]

Rabbits

Rabbits Rabbits

I hope you all have a very Happy Holiday season!

[jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels]

Rabbits Rabbits Rabbits

[jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels]

Rabbits Rabbits Rabbits

Happy Spooky Season!

[jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels]

Written Between the Lines

Chapter I - In Between These Lines

Summary: Aemond had been avoiding you all day, and you were determined to get some answers, and maybe comfort him when he needed you to.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Word count: 2,4k

Warnings: canon-typical incest (uncle-niece)

Notes: Hello hello! It's the day of the (official) release of the season 2 finale of HotD and I thought it was the perfect time to publish this. I have been meaning to write for this fandom for quite some time now, and this one had been on my mind for quite some time now and I decided to write it down and see where it went, and I’m quite proud of how it turned out.

Just to clear some things up: reader is Rhaenyra’s eldest child (yes, I went for that trope), being one or two years younger than Aemond and one or two years older than Jace (so she and Aemond are more or less the same age). This first chapter is set on the same day of the Pink Dread incident (season 1, episode 6), which means they are children. (Also, I don't understand anything of palm reading, but that's kinda the whole point)

I really hope you, dear reader, enjoy this and have fun while reading it. If you spot any mistakes, please feel free to warn me and I'll correct it right away, and feedback is always welcome and appreciated. I hope you truly enjoy this story.

Reader is female, but no physical descriptions provided

Next chapter | Masterlist | Read on AO3

He had been ignoring you all day. The only time you even managed to catch a glimpse of him was on the courtyard during his training lessons with Ser Criston, accompanied by both your brothers and his own. It was pretty boring, really, watching from afar as it would be considered ‘improper’ for you to join them, even though both your father and Ser Harwin had taken upon themselves to teach you the ways of the steel in secret (even though you had a strong suspicion your mother was well aware of it). At least you got some free entertainment for the day, watching Ser Harwin beat the absolute shit out of Cole.

Serves him right for being cunt to my brothers, you had thought.

You’d normally prefer to spend your afternoons with Helaena, truly enjoying the girl’s company, her fascination with bugs and beetles and her clever mind never failing to make you smile. However, you’d later have to apologize to your aunt for skipping on your daily meeting as you ventured around the keep in search of her brother. You were supposed to meet at the weirwood tree after he got back from going to the pit with the boys so you could work on your high valyrian lessons together, but as the minutes passed you began to worry and set out to find him. 

You thoroughly believed he wasn’t even going to show up at supper, his mother smiling softly albeit crookedly upon your questioning, claiming he was feeling indisposed, but to your surprise he did come in if only a little late. He wasn’t acting like himself, however, choosing to sit in the seat furthest away from you, where he would normally sit right by your side, leaving the seat vacant for Aegon to sit next to you, his abhorrent manners at the table almost making you physically recoil. He didn’t look at anyone, nor did he speak to anyone unless spoken to and he seemed way more interested in poking around his food than actually eating it. And once the meal was over and everyone was excused he practically vanished, rushing out of the hall before you could even rise to your feet.

Now, as night had fallen, you were determined to find him and get some answers. Goosebumps formed on your skin as you ventured deeper in the hidden passages of the Keep where your sword lessons were held, the chilly air of King’s Landing biting at your exposed arms. You walked with confidence, knowing for a fact both your chambers were connected through these halls. You just hoped to the Old Gods and the New that you did in fact know where you were going and that you didn’t accidentally walk in on Aegon doing something very morally questionable with one of the servants.

Please let it be this one, you prayed as your fingers pressed against a loose panel on the wall.

And it seemed you had to look no further. Aemond was half submerged in a bath arranged in the middle of the room (confirming these were, indeed, his chambers), the ends of his hair sticking to his skin as water clung to the strands. Upon hearing the wall moving he startled, his eyes widening as he desperately scrambled to try and cover some of his modesty, even though you could barely see anything below the waterline.

“B-by the Gods!” he squirmed, clearly not expecting visitors at this hour, and you felt an amused smirk building on your lips at his attempts at covering up.

“Worry not, uncle.” you jested walking closer to the tub after closing the secret door behind you “You seem to forget I have three younger brothers. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

His cheeks tinged with a bright shade of pink.

“What in the Seven Hells are you doing here?!” he tried once again to cover up, trying to look anywhere but at you standing in the middle of his chambers in only your nightclothes.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” you asked, the smirk promptly slipping from your face.

He seemed momentarily taken aback by such a question, looking away almost… ashamed?

“I have done no such thing, I have just been busy?” he tried, though his words lacked any conviction and ended up sounding more like a question.

“You promised to meet me after going to the Dragonpit.” you spoke softly “But you never came.”

At this he didn’t have a rebuttal, not one that wouldn’t give too much away, so he simply shrugged, his gaze cast down into the water. But you could tell from the way he shrunk under your gaze that there was something more to it.

“Did something happen in the Dragonpit?” you asked, taking a couple of slow and careful steps closer to him. When he stayed silent, only scrunching his eyes as if it physically pained him to think about it, you tried again “Aemond… what happened at the Dragonpit?”

“Nothing happened!” he snapped, his eyes brimming with unshed tears, before his voice acquired a venomous tone “Now if you could excuse me, little niece, I find myself quite occupied at the moment and don’t have the time to entertain you right now. Go meddle on somebody else’s business.”

Had you been anybody else you’d have left by now, with your tail between your legs and tears dripping down your face over the lashing of his tongue. And although his words did sting and left you feeling slightly humiliated, you stood your ground. You’d like to think that after all these years, having grown up together in the Red Keep, you’d come to know your uncle, your friend, better than anyone by now. You knew he, very much like yourself, was more reserved in his feelings, keeping them to himself, but once they finally bubbled over they tended to burn everything in their path. Aemond, like you, was the blood of the dragon after all. And you had come to learn that when he was hurting he tended to lash out at anyone and everyone around him, intending to inflict the same hurt onto others so he wasn’t left alone in his misery.

So, taking a steadying breath, you closed the distance between the two of you, carefully climbing inside the tub with him. The water was lukewarm, and given the propensities of the members of the Targaryen family to enjoy their baths scalding hot, it told you that he’d probably been here for quite a while now, sulking alone.

As you lowered yourself into the water, he pressed himself further into the side of the wooden tub, trying to stay as further away from you as possible. 

“T-this is hardly appropriate, niece.” he stammered, trying not to let his eyes curiously wander down to your now soaked nightgown.

You stayed silent for a moment, contemplating the situation you found yourself in, but you’d gone too far now to back down without the answers you seek.

“So, are you going to tell me what the matter is?”

He didn’t answer, but even though he refused to look directly at you, you spotted a lone tear escaping down his cheek.

“Aemond-”

“They gave me a pig.” he whispered, his gaze once again cast down.

“What?”

He swallowed thickly, his eyes finally meeting yours, and you could see the weight of the anger and the shame he’d been caring throughout the entire day.

“After Jacaerys finished his training with Vermax, he, Aegon and Lucerys mentioned they had found a dragon for me.” his voice wavered slightly as he recounted the event “I should not have believed them, I was such a fool… they brought a pig, decorated with wings and all.” more tears escaped his eyes, your heart clenching in your chest at the sight “‘The Pink Dread’ they called it.”

“Oh, Aemond-”

“I don’t want your pity, niece!” he lashed out once again, and you had to remind yourself it wasn’t personal “If that is all you came here for you can see yourself out.”

You pursed your lips, a frown etched on your face. You knew how much it pained him to remain dragonless. He had shared his thoughts with you once in the library after your lessons in high valyrian, way past the time you should have retired to your respective chambers. How he thought himself a disgrace to the Targaryen name, ashamed at not having a dragon for himself when even your younger brother Luke already had Arrax. You tried to console him but he was having none of it, too caught up in his self-loathing to listen. So you knew nothing you said could comfort him how he deserved.

An idea struck you. It was a stupid one, and you didn’t even know if it would work, but you had to try even if it backfired spectacularly. So you scooted closer to him in the tub, fitting between his spread legs without touching him, and extended your palm out.

“What are you doing?” he asked, eyes wide and confused.

“Give me your hand.”

“What?”

“Just give me your hand.” you coaxed, making come-hither with your extended fingers.

Once he realized you weren’t going to give him any further explanation, he did as he was told, laying his hand over your own, his palm facing down, which you quickly turned around. You started tracing the lines on his palm gently with your other hand, so concentrated you barely noticed the goosebumps forming on his skin from your ministrations.

“What-?” he started but you were quick to cut him off with a gentle ‘shhh’, which promptly shut him up, only slightly offended.

“See here?” you pointed at one of the lines in his palm, tracing it with your finger “It is your line of life. See how long it is? It means you shall live a long and fulfilling life.”

He glanced at you, still not understanding a word you were saying, and you gave him a soft, encouraging smile. 

“And see this one?” you pointed to another line “This is your line of heart. It turns upwards, which means you will be wed to a nice lady one day, and that you will love eachother very deeply and rejoice in your happiness together.”

You don’t know why saying that made your heart ache only slightly, but the sight of a smile slowly but surely curling on his lips made it all worth it, as it meant your plan was working. 

“And here,” you curled your fingers, closing his hand inside your own, and pointing to the lines that formed on the outer side “two deep lines and one shallow, meaning you’ll have three children when you grow older, two daughters and a son. And from how deep these two lines are, the girls will be very beautiful, they will probably give you a headache from how many suitors they will have.”

To this he chuckled, his tears long forgotten, and you giggled along with him.

“And here…” you opened his hand once again, and pointed to a long vertical line that crossed almost the entirety of his palm “is your line of the dragon. Only those of Targaryen descent have this one on their palms, see?” you pointed to your own hand which showed a similar line, different only in length “It means you will have a dragon one day.”

At this his face fell and he tried to rip his hand from you, but you held onto it firmly.

“The lines don’t lie.” you rushed to explain, now focused on his eyes as they softened at your words “You can check for yourself. Your brother and sister both have it on their hands, my own brothers have it. Seven Hells, you can even check Princess Rhaenys hands, she has one as well.”

You searched his eyes for any trace of doubt and found none.

“You will have a dragon one day, Aemond.” you squeezed his hand to emphasize our point “I’m sure of it.”

His smile grew on his face, sheepish but sincere, only a flick of his lips away from becoming a smirk.

“You just came up with all that, didn’t you?” he asked, and you gasped in mock offense, pushing against his shoulder.

“You wound me, uncle!” you pressed your hand against your heart “Why would I do such a thing?”

A beat passed before both of you burst out laughing, not one bit concerned the guards stationed just outside his door could probably hear you. You were glad you could make him smile again and give him some comfort, knowing you had succeeded on your mission.

As you both calmed down you looked at him once again, truly looked at him. He was quite beautiful when he smiled, and oh, how you wished he would do it more often around you. In that moment only the two of you existed, together. When asked later you wouldn’t be able to tell what came over you in that very moment, but once you realized what you were doing you had surged forward, pressing your lips against his in the gentlest, softest of kisses.

No sooner had your lips come in contact with his own, you were pulling back, eyes widening in panic. His own were blown wide as well, surprised by your actions. You didn’t waste a second climbing out of the tub, almost toppling over the side in your rush, your drenched nightclothes making your task all the more difficult.

“Wait!” he tried to hold onto you but you were quicker “Please, don’t go, I-!”

But you were already making your way to the hidden passage on the wall and disappearing from his chambers. He would have thought he had fallen asleep in the bath and dreamed the whole thing had it not been for the dark trail left behind going from the tub all the way to the wall from where water had dripped from your body in your haste to get away. 

And if, come the next morrow, he forcefully grabbed his mother’s hand and flip it to look at her palms, much to her protests, and notice a line present on the exact place where you had pointed the so called ‘line of the dragon’ the night before, his smile gave away the gratitude he felt for you at that moment.

[jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels]

NHTK - Masterlist

summary: You’d always been warned by your older brother about the bad boys. The ones with the long hair, tattooed arms, and played in a band. Especially the one that is his best friend.

pairing: brother's best friend! Eddie Munson x fem! Reader, reader is Reefer Rick’s little sister.

trope/themes: forbidden love, friends to lovers

warnings: angst, mention of cheating (technically not reader), mentions of anxiety, brief mention of unwanted touching, underage drinking/smoking, eventual smut. Will add warnings to each chapter.

Request to be added to tag list 🖤

The Chapters

Chapter One

[jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels]

Rabbits Rabbits Rabbits

Happy September!

[jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels]

Rabbits Rabbits Rabbits

It’s almost that time! Back to

school! Are you ready?

[jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels]

Rabbits Rabbits Rabbits

[jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels]

Rabbits

Rabbits

Rabbits

[jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels]

Rabbits Rabbits Rabbits

[jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels]

Rabbits Rabbits Rabbits

[jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels]

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: “You will be trapped by the obligations of love and duty, unable to escape the web of expectations others have woven around you," the witch said....

Daenera Velaryon returns to King's Landing with the intention of bolstering her mother's position and reminding both the Greens and nobility that Rhaenyra is the rightful heir to the throne. She has a specific goal in mind: to be a constant source of annoyance to the Greens and is willing to play the political game without hesitation.

However, what catches her off guard is the way Aemond gazes at her and seems to relish in her suffering. He openly expresses his desire to bring about her downfall, her ruination.

This situation leads to a tense game of cat and mouse, with each move escalating the already high stakes. Will their precarious situation crumble as the dragons soar above, or will fate intervene?

After all, love often demands the sacrifice of duty, just as duty can sometimes lead to the demise of love.

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X OC, HOTD characters.

Chapter 1: A prophecy foretold

AO3

“Be careful, princess,” Ser Harwin warned as Daenera slipped on the leafy ground of the Kingswoods, her arms flailing in an attempt to stabilize her. She quickly waved him off, eyes focused on the bush of dark berries. She trotted towards the bush and began to pick the berries, brows furrowed in concentration, the apple of her cheeks bright pink in the fresh cool air. 

“Are you my true father?” Daenera asked suddenly, the question thrown out into the world as if it weren’t a loaded, dangerous question. 

Ser Harwin froze against the tree he was leaning on, his eyes scanning over the little princess and her dark hair that was so much like his own, curling around her chubby face and spilling down over her shoulders and back. The princess seemed wholly unbothered by the question. 

“Why would you ask such a thing?” Ser Harwin questioned back, trying to gauge the princess's reaction. 

Daenera shrugged, the frown deepening and the pace with which she was picking berries slowing. “I am not stupid. I don’t look like Laenor nor do I look much like my mother, but one cannot deny that she birthed me, so the only reasonable conclusion is that Laenor isn’t my true father… And… I look more like you.” 

The rationality with which she spoke astonished Ser Harwin. Yet, it was clear that the reason behind the questions was a soft prayer to understand and to have explained why she was different from her uncles or cousins. 

She was far too perceptive for a girl her age.

“Would it disappoint you?” Ser Harwin asked, his voice gentle and warm. 

Daenera pursed her lips in thought, trying to put words to her thoughts. It wasn’t easy to be faced with the possibility of being a bastard. “Do you love my mother?”

“I do,” Ser Harwin answered without a question, the devotion he held for Rhaenyra evident in his voice and burning in his eyes. He looked at Daenera with fatherly devotion. 

“Then no, I should think not. If you love each other, then I don't see a reason to be disappointed… But Laenor is still my father.” Daenera said, finally looking up at the Commander of the City Watch. 

Ser Harwin smiled. “Of course. I can never replace your father.”

It was true in multiple ways. He could never replace Laenor. The truth could never be revealed. 

Daenera went back to picking berries, the tip of her fingers painted burgundy. “I would like you to be my father as well.”

“You know I can’t really be your father, right?” Ser Harwin pushed off the tree to kneel down by the princess, placing his hands on her shoulders to make her look directly at him. Her big blue eyes blinked up at him. “You cannot tell anyone this. Not even your brothers. It will put you all in a dangerous position.”

“I know.”

“You can’t treat me any different. Laenor is your father, in name and blood, do you understand?”

“I do, I know.” The princess grumbled, pouting a little. “I can’t tell my brothers. I can’t tell anyone. And I can’t acknowledge you as my father.”

“It is a secret that will protect everyone you love.” Ser Harwin said, making sure she knew. 

“Try these.” Daenera handed him a handful of berries, before walking back to pluck some more. 

Ser Harwin inspected the berries. “Are they poisonous?” 

“No,” Daenera answered. Ser Harwin propped the handful into his mouth, the taste sweet. “I don’t think so, although I cannot be sure, they look like blueberries but they could also be nightshade.”

Ser Harwin choked, coughing on the juices and spat out, trying to catch his breath. It was only then he noticed the sly, mischievous smile on Daenera’s lips. “Are you sure you do not wish me dead?”

“I’m only teasing, they’re regular blueberries.” She answered, putting a few berries into her mouth for emphasis. A big grin split across her face.

Ser Harwin shook his head. “You could have killed me.” 

“I took the chance.”

“You’re a wicked little princess,” he chided, beating on his chest to try and loosen whatever lingered in his chest after choking. He glanced towards the sky, looking past the green rustling leaves of the trees to the blue expanse of sky. “We should head back to the Keep.”

“Must we?” Daenera whined, shoving the remaining berries she had picked into a tiny satchel by her hips. 

Ser Harwin held out a hand for her to take.

Wiping her hands on the skirt of her dress, she smeared the purple juices onto the fabric, staining it irrevocably. It wasn’t an expensive dress, but Joyce wouldn’t be happy with her. She took Ser Harwins big hand, finding comfort in his warmth. 

They walked across the forest floor, the sun streaming through the trees as morning became noon, warming the air. There was a sudden shift in temperature then, the sun seemingly unable to pierce through the thick growth of trees, casting everything below it in cool shadows. Among those trees was a wagon, one of those used to live in as one traveled across the land. 

Daenera slowed her pace, eyes stuck on the red and purple painted wagon, the same color the tip of her fingers were. Along the roof of the wagon hung clusters of talismans and trinkets. The sight of it made the hairs on the back of her neck rise. 

Ser Harwin tried to pull the princess along with him, uneasy by the whole thing, but Daenera wouldn’t budge, eyes fixed on the dark-haired woman with kohl smeared around her eyes, a deep red that seemed almost black. Ser Harwin’s hand found the hilt of his sword. 

“Are you a witch?” Daenera asked. 

“Come princess.” Ser Harwin beckoned her. She pulled her hand from his grasp as she turned fully to the woman. 

“Some may call me a witch, others will claim me a fraud, and a few a priestess. It is all in the eye of the beholder.” 

“I don’t understand.”

The witch smiled. “I tell people their futures… if they’re willing to pay the price.”

Daenera’s eyes widened in intrigue. Who wouldn’t want to know their future? “Can you tell me mine?”

Ser Harwin was less intrigued by the woman. “Daenera. We really should get back to the Keep, your mother awaits you.”

“But I wish to know my future,” Daenera said stubbornly. 

“Whatever she may tell you, it will only serve to sow doubt and discord. We are not meant to know our futures.”

“If you’re afraid you can stay out here and keep guard, but I’m going in,” Daenera told him in all her princessly authority. She picked up her skirts and made her way towards the woman, who smiled slyly. 

The witch led the princess through a ruffled veil of string and glass beads, into the darkness of the wagon. It was only when she had entered that her heart began to drum in her chest as the shadows crept over her skin making a shiver go down her spine. Doubt and uncertainty seeded themselves in her chest. 

What if her future was boring? What if she were to marry some ugly, old, fat man? What if she were told she’d never have children? or find true love?

The witch sat behind a round table. The only candle in the room was unable to light up the entirety of the space, only serving to deepen the shadows and make them dance with each flicker, almost mockingly. Daenera clutched her hands nervously. 

“So you wish to know your future, little princess,” In this lighting, the kohl around the woman's eyes only served to make them seem hollow, the flame dancing in the darkness of irises. Something else looked back at Daenera from the depths. “Knowing one's future comes with a prince.”

“I have money,” Daenera answered, trying to unfasten the pouch of coins at her hip. 

The witch laughed, coldly. “It is not money that I want.”

Daenera looked at the woman in confusion. 

“The price of knowing your future is one of blood.”

Fear gripped Daenera and she anxiously took a step back, wondering whether she should call for Ser Harwin. “Blood?”

“One drop and I will give you a prophecy of your future. You will be able to ask three questions, no more.” The witch removed a long thin hairpin from her hair. At one end there was a red ruby, gleaming like fire, while the other end was thin like a needle. Something in the back of her mind told her to turn around, to heed Ser Harwin’s warning, to go back to the castle and forget it all. 

But like a moth to a flame, she could not turn back.

She was rooted to the floor, the shadows clawing at her, tugging her forward like a puppet on a string. 

The witch's grin widened. She held out her hand for Daenera to place her own in. Once she had the princess's hand in hers, she pressed the hairpin down on her finger, breaking the skin. A drop of blood welled up as she squeezed the finger, the same deep red as the ruby, the flame of the candlelight flickering in it. 

Daenera was shocked when the witch brought her finger to her mouth, sucking the blood off her finger. She tried to pull her hand to her but found the witch's grip on her wrist unyielding. It wasn’t until Daenera used all her force that she was able to break free, gripping her wrist and holding it to her chest. 

The woman closed her eyes and breathed in through her nose, leaning back in the chair. When she opened her eyes again, they seemed black. They fixed Daenera to her spot, unable to break free of their spell. Her heart hammered in her chest, like a little bird trying to break free. 

“I see your future being woven, black and green, red and blue, a grand tapestry. Your future is one of great trials and tribulations. You will be tested by fire and betrayal as those around you seek to use you for their own gain.  So many threads, so many possibilities.” The witch's voice was low and melodic, like a hymn echoing in the dark of a crypt. It crept over Daenera’s skin, burrowed into her bones and settled there, forever a part of her. “The Dragons will dance and fire shall rain from above. Terror rides the wind. The Stranger will visit you many times, he follows you and you will see some of those you love in his care. Some you will pass over to him yourself.” 

Her bones felt like ice, and she shivered, wanting nothing more than to warm herself by the candlelight. 

“You will be trapped by the obligations of love and duty, unable to escape the web of expectations others have woven around you.” The witch hummed, closing her eyes again as she ran her tongue over her lips, licking at the traces of the princess's blood. “Blood will play a significant role in your life, with debts made and paid in equal measure. Pain will be your constant companion as the cursed power in your blood will be wielded with the precision of poison. But remember, poisoned cups may be turned around on yourself, and the power of curses always has a price.”

“Mmm,” the witch hummed, eyes rolling as she searched her mind. “Love will come to you, a double-edged sword. Your first marriage will be loveless and your second cloaked in betrayal. Who will you be able to trust?” 

The witch laughed at Daenera’s crestfallen face. “But through both of these unions, you will find love that burns bright and fierce.”

The witch tapped on the table, a rhythmic tempo, like the beating of a heart. Her eyes opened again. “What is your first question, princess of flowers?”

Daenera let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. Her mouth had gone dry and she glanced down at her hand, finding red crescents littering her skin from where her nails had dug into it. Her mind whired with thoughts. “Who is this love of mine?”

It was such a childish question, but Daenera was just a child. She still dreamed of knights and boundless love. 

“The boy with the stars in his eyes will capture your heart, but be wary of the danger that he represents. Twin flames, one soul. This is the love that awaits you. You will be torn between the desire for love and the fear of being consumed by it. What is your second question, princess of poison?”

It was hard to choose one. There were so many. She could ask more about this love, about the marriages, about whether she would be happy. Or she could ask the more foreboding questions. 

“Who will betray me?”

The witch laughed, roared with it. “Betrayal will come from all sides, from enemies and loved ones alike. Even your own heart and blood will betray you. Ultimately, the choice will be yours. Will you succumb to the fire and the betrayal, or will you rise above it and find power? The path ahead is fraught with danger, but there is hope for a brighter tomorrow if you are willing to fight for it.”

It had been a mistake entering the witches' wagon. A big mistake indeed. She did not wish to know any more from this witch. Fear had sunk its claws into her, uprooting her from the spot in the wagon. Daenera took a step back, tears stinging in her eyes. Why did her future sound so horrible? This isn’t what she wanted to hear. 

“What is your final question, princess of curses?” 

“I don’t want to know anymore.” Daenera answered, voice quivering and breaking. 

The witches' eyes sharpened. “You started this. The deal is not done yet.”

“I don’t want to know more!” Daenera yelled at the witch, loud enough to summon Ser Harwin. He bound into the wagon, far too big for its size, and yet he stood there, between Daenera and the witch, hand threateningly on the hilt of his sword. The witches' eyes narrowed at him. 

“We are not done yet.” She insisted, a feral look in her eyes. “You must ask the final question.”

“I don’t have one!�� Daenera yelped, hiding behind Ser Harwin. 

“The princess is ready to leave, so you will allow her to.” 

The witch flicked the hairpin at Ser Harwin, the sharp end of it grazing the hand that gripped the hilt of the sword before it embedded itself in the wood of a cabinet. The witch took a deep breath, her dark eyes burning into Ser Harwin, who slowly backed away while she followed, the princess being pushed out of the wagon. 

“The fireflies will burn your future to the ground. Leave that landing of kings and you shall not return.” Despite the clear threat of Ser Harwin’s hand on his sword, the witch remained unbothered, following them out into the fresh air, the sun having yet to penetrate the crown of the trees. “All strong men shall fall. Even the strongest. Even the cleverest. Even the small, the first, the sweet. And it shall all begin with you. So beware the fireflies and their ambition.” 

Daenera ran a little way away before turning, waiting for Ser Harwin as he walked backward towards her, never losing sight of the witch. 

“If you do not ask your question now, princess, you will leave the contract unfulfilled.” The witch said forebodingly. Reaching up to one of the trinkets, she grabbed on, tugging at a few branches and rope to release the golden coin held in suspension in the middle. She looked back at the princess and flicked the coin at her. It flew in an arch and landed at the feet of the princess. 

Daenera picked up the coin. On one side a spiral had been carved into it, while an eye ordained the other side. She looked back up at the witch with confusion written all over her face. 

“When you are finally ready to ask that question of yours, bury this in the woods and come back when there’s no moon in the sky.” The witch said in a foreboding tone. “But know this, the question will haunt you until you ask it.” 

Ser Harwin turned around and picked Daenera up. He wanted her out of the forest. Daenera watched as the witch smiled and waved at her before disappearing into the wagon. 

Daenera remained quiet until they were sitting on the horse, crossing the treeline out into the open field, with Kingslanding in sight. It was comforting. Only then did she give voice to the thoughts in her head. 

“Do you think what the witch said was true?”

“What did she say to you?” Ser Harwin asked gently, not wanting to frighten the princess anymore than she already was. For he knew the encounter had shaken her. 

“She said that my future would be one of betrayal and fire. That… that blood will play a role and that mine is cursed.” It was hard to put words to. Her mind skipped parts and sowed others together. How could she explain it all? “I will find love, but he will betray me. Everyone will. And that the Stranger follows me… I don’t want to die. I don’t want anyone to die.”

“The Stranger follows us all,” Ser Harwin spoke, trying to calm the child in his arms. She may act grown and be perceptive for her age, but she was a child still. The notion of death was a far out concept one didn’t think much of at that age. “Everything that lives must die in the end. That is what makes us mortal.” 

Daenera went quiet, trying to blink the tears away.

“We must all die. Did the witch tell you when and how people died?”

“No.”

“Then it could be when we’re all old and in bed for all you know. Death is what lets us know we’re living. Don’t put too much thought into what the witch said. Things like these are vague for a reason. You’ll find that it can be fitted onto most people. She just wanted to scare you.”

But the witch hadn’t been all vague, had she?

“But she also said that I’d be betrayed.”

“By who?”

“Everyone.”

“People like the witch make a game out of telling the future, they tell you riddles and let those haunt all your future actions. You can’t trust anything she said for the future isn’t set in stone,” Ser Harwin explained. “To know the future is to tie a noose and hang oneself with it. Forget what the witch told you, don’t let her riddles tie you a noose.”

“To know the future is to tie a noose and hang oneself with it,” Daenera repeated his words back to him in a musing, thoughtful tone. “So you don’t believe what she said to you?”

“Fireflies cannot start fires,” Ser Harwin dismissed the witches' prediction. He wouldn’t give it any more thought, just as he told her not to. His future was with the city watch and the royal family, however, they needed him. There weren’t even any fireflies in King's Landing. 

“If you do not believe her, then I won’t either.” 

The Red Keep has always been a great big thing looming over King's Landing with its high, towering walls built upon the highest hill. Daenera had often wondered how they had managed to build it so tall. Her and Ser Harwin rode through the gate into the tiltyard. Ser Harwin swung down from the horse and then helped Daenera down, the girl brushing out her dirty and crumbled skirts, hair in a tissy around her face. She was handed her bigger satchel and the few books she had taken with her before Ser Harwin led the horse towards the stables. 

Daenera didn’t wait for him and began up the steps to the keep, following behind Aemond who had been sparring alone in the tiltyard, trying to improve his skill. They silently fell into step with each other. 

“Out foraging in the forest again?” Aemond questioned. 

“Out training alone again?” Daenera questioned right back. 

“Training alone is better than training with your brothers. They seem to lessen my skill rather than improve it.”

“Maybe that’s because they’re better than you, and if so, then you should keep at it.” 

Aemond narrowed his eyes at her as they turned the corner, beginning the long journey up the steps towards Maegor's holdfast where both of their rooms were. 

“I would have thought that the Commander of the City Watch would have better things to do than to babysit you,” Aemond argued. “Like commanding the City Watch for example.”

“And I would think Ser Criston Cole would pay more attention to teaching you, but I suppose not, given that you’re training alone,” Daenera mused back with narrowed eyes. 

“I don’t need a babysitter.”

“And as for Ser Harwin babysitting me, it is a great honor to be entrusted with a princess is it not?”

“That is what we have the Kingsguard for,” Aemond pointed out. “Strange that you won’t be entrusted to them, but are with the Commander.”

Daenera swallowed, eyes darting over Aemond to try and see what he was thinking. At the moment he was a stone wall with hair standing in tots around his head and dirt on his red cheeks. No, she would not reveal anything either. “I like Ser Harwin. He’s a good man and if it wasn’t because he was the heir to Harrenhall, he too would be a Kingsguard.”

“I see, so it’s because he’s to have kids he’s not wearing the white cloak,” Aemond hummed, his words sharp and prodding. “I suppose he didn’t want to be an oathbreaker…”

“Besides, could you imagine Ser Criston with me in the woods?” Daenera continued, trying to conjure up the image of Ser Criston standing among the trees in his white cloak, glaring at her and sneering at her to hurry up, the embodiment of ‘I don't want to be here’. He always hated her and her brothers. Daenera didn’t understand why.  “He treats us badly and without respect.”

“He treats you badly and without respect.”

“I like Ser Harwin much better,” Daenera said. 

“Hm, you’d have to, wouldn’t you?” Aemond muttered under his breath. 

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“I suppose you wouldn’t know what it's like to like someone and be liked back,” Daenera shot at him. They had come to a standstill outside her mothers rooms. They regarded one another. 

“You smell of sweat,” Daenera told him. 

“You smell of horse,” Aemond answered right back. A smile grew on both their lips, the tension in the air dispelled immediately. “Are you coming to the dancing lessons later?”

“Of course, are you?”

“Unfortunately,” Aemond grumbled, waving as he walked away.

 Daenera had often wondered when things had changed between them. When they were younger all of them were friends and played with one another, but slowly Aegon and Aemond had withdrawn, beginning to shoot snide comments towards her and her brothers. It was as if a chism had opened up between them. She didn’t understand it, but she had learned that people grew apart. And she wasn’t really that upset over not being good friends with Aegon. He had turned into quite the asshole, always ready with a malicious jape or prank. And her brothers, her stupid and naive brothers, fell for Aegon's scheming every time. 

Between her and Aemond there was either constant war or truce. They constantly jeered one another, constantly poked at each other's weak points, sparred with words, and yet, they could smile at each other and call it a day. It was a strange sort of rivalry. And maybe it stemmed from a silent understanding of one another, second borns, dragonless, buried in books and duties. 

Daenera entered her mothers rooms finding Laenor sprawled out over the chamise, an arm over his eyes, boots still on his feet, quietly snoring. Rhaenyra was buried in a book in front of the fireplace, hand on the swell of her stomach. It wouldn’t be long before Daenera got another sibling. Rhaenyra looked up from her book, smiling softly at her only daughter. 

“How was the woods?”

“Enlightening,” Daenera answered, feeling the grip of those shadows linger on her soul like a bruise. She shook the feeling off and hurried to her mother, opening the bag to reveal her treasures and findings, which all looked like shrubs and weed to Rhaenyra. “I got some Dandelions, Musk Mallow, Pennyroyal and some Thistle. And some herbs and mushrooms, though I didn’t pick a lot of those because I’m not entirely sure of them yet. I also got some blackberries, which I fed Ser Harwin.”

“And told me they were nightshades,” Ser Harwin recalled, sliding into the rooms. His eyes went soft at the sight of Rhaenyra, her hand cradling her stomach, while her other gripped Daenera’s hands. His child and their mother. Rhaenyra raised a brow at her mischievous daughter. 

“They weren’t,” Daenera reminded him. “Or you’d be dead.”

“I could have died choking on the berries you gave me.”

“It was a harmless prank, don’t take it to heart Ser Harwin,” Daenera told him. Ser Harwin tried to hold back his smile, the corners of his eyes wrinkling. 

“Forgive her, Ser Harwin, it seems my daughter has quite the mischievous side,” Rhaenyra said, shaking her head at her daughter, a smile on her lips, knowing it was all in good fun.

“Already forgiven.”

Rhaenyra’s water broke a fortnight after Daenera’s adventure in the woods. When Luke was born Daenera was there, sitting quietly in one of the chairs, trying to understand what was happening while Laenor held her mothers hand, trying to calm both his daughter and his wife at once. Rhaenyra had waved him off then, sending him to the teary eyed Daenera to comfort her. Now she had a bigger role to play. 

With her interest in healing and medical practices, she stood beside her mother, steeling herself for what was to come, trying to be as brave as a dragon, despite the fear clawing in her chest.

Rhaenyra was covered in a sheen of sweat, trying to breathe through the pain of labor, hair sticking to her skin, made wavey by the salt of sweat and the humidity of the room. One of the midwives kept patting her forehead with a wet cloth, the constant touch and fussing beginning to irritate the heir to the throne. 

Rhaenyra swatted the midwife's hand away. “Stop patting my head as if I were a sick child.”

“The wet cloth will help with the heat of childbirth and will calm you,” The midwife explained, wetting the cloth again and bringing it back to pat at Rhaenyra’s chest.

Another contraction went through her, body tensing up with pain, a guttural groan ripping through her throat. She again swatted the nurses hand away, this time growling. “Stop it you cunt!”

The oldest midwife gestured for the other to leave, not wanting to add to the tension and irritability that childbirth often brought upon women. 

“Is it awfully painful?” Daenera asked, her voice low and filled with concern.

Rhaenyra turned her head to the side and forced a smile, looking at her daughter. She extended her hand and pushed aside a strand of dark hair falling into her daughter's face. Her hand rested on the curve of her daughter’s cheek, and her thumb brushed gently over the skin. 

 “It is. Awful and painful.”

“Then why do you do it?” Daenera asked, confused. Why would anyone willingly go through that sort of pain? It seemed like an awful lot of trouble, and an awful lot of blood, sweat and tears. Daenera couldn’t imagine wanting to go through that. The concept was so strange to her. 

“Because it is worth it. You and your brothers are worth every second of pain,” Rhaenyra told her. Another wave of contractions rushed over her and she pulled back from her daughter, gripping the bed sheets with enough force to turn her knuckles white. 

“Do not push yet, my lady,” the midwife ordered, looking under the fabric of her mothers dress.

There were no Maesters present, she didn’t trust them after what happened to her mother, she saw them as rats. Instead she put her trust in her midwives, the ones who had helped her through the birth of her first three children and had served as her maids for years. She trusted them. 

“Why did the gods make us like this?” Daenera asked. “Why couldn’t we just lay eggs like the dragons?”

Rhaenyra chuckled at her daughter's words, as did the midwives. “Laying an egg doesn’t seem all that fun either, Dae. They are about the same size as a newborn baby, the pain would be the same.”

“Hm… I suppose it would be boring having to keep the egg warm until it hatched. I just think the gods are cruel to put us through that much pain.”

“The gods give us this pain so that we know we can endure,” Rhaenyra said. 

“But not all endures,” Daenera whispered. 

“No, not all can endure it. But I will. Do not worry for me, my flower,” Rhaenyra comforted her daughter, who squared her shoulders and straightened her back, determination edging her otherwise soft features. She might not look all that much like Rhaenyra but the shape of her eyes, but she possessed the same fire that all Targaryens had.

“You don’t need to comfort me, mother, I do not doubt that you shall survive. I should be the one to comfort you.”

“Give me your hand, sweet child.”

Daenera gave her her hand, holding it tight as another contraction hit. This time Rhaenyra was told to push. And she did. She breathed in deeply, Daenera following her mothers lead, and pushed as hard as she could.

The fat midwife came up behind Rhaenyra for support, holding her other hand and helping her to sit in the right position on the bed . Pain and effort flashed across Daenera’s mothers face, contorting it and making grimaces, and yet, in the pain of birth, Daenera thought her mother the most beautiful woman in the world, even when her face turned red.

There was a sound Daenera hadn’t heard before, of dripping water, soaking into the sheets. Childbirth was terribly messy. 

“You are doing great, mother,” Daenera encouraged once her mother breathed a little easier after the contraction. Rhaenyra smiled at her daughter, proud that she hadn’t turned away. 

It felt like forever before the baby came, water and blood squirting everywhere on the bed as the child slid out, her mother falling back into the bed, body wrecked by exhaustion.

Rhaenyra half cried, half laughed, relieved that the child had come rather easy. Daenera’s eyes were big and focused on the grimy baby in the midwife's hands. 

“A boy, princess,” the fat midwife announced. 

Daenera grinned widely at her mother. “A brother. I’ve got another brother.”

Rhaenyra smiled, relieved to see that there wasn't a hint of disappointment on her daughter's face. Instead she beamed like the sun, excited at the prospect of a new family member. The newborn let out a strong cry, taking in air for the first time, as Rhaenyra released her daughter's hand to welcome the baby into her arms. “Healthy?”

“Kicking like a goat, princess,” the midwife answered, just as happy as the rest of them. 

Rhaenyra cried with relief and happiness, the babe squirming in her arms, crying its heart out with life. Daenera looked over her shoulders at the baby. It looked like a baby should, she supposed, but she couldn’t yet tell all its features. What she could tell was that Laenor wasn't likely to be the father. 

“Look at his tiny hands!” Daenera gushed, reaching to touch it. The baby wrapped its hand around her finger. “It's so strong.”

The midwife that had disappeared out the doors to bring the tidings forth came back, worry evident on her face. “Princess…the-the queen has requested that the child should be brought to her… immediately.”

Daenera’s face fell in confusion and Rhaenyra’s in apprehension and suspicion. They both echoed at the same time. “Why?” 

The midwife held no answer. 

Rhaenyra pushed herself to her feet, the movement labored and painful, a groan falling from her lips. It was wrong. She shouldn’t be standing, she had only just given birth. Why would the queen send for the baby the moment it was born? What was so important? Why was she so impatient? Daenera felt anger on the behalf of her mother. The baby was still attached to Rhaenyra by the umbilical cord. 

“It’s not right,” Daenera said, unable to hide her dissatisfaction. “You’ve just given birth, can the queen not wait?”

“Evidently not,” Rhaenyra uttered, she wasn’t ready to hand over her newborn just yet. “I’ll take him myself.”

“You should remain abed, princess-,”

“Yes, I should! Bring me my dress!” Rhaenyra yelled in aggravation. It was egregious to force her to let go of the child she had only just given birth to, and even more so to expect her to just hand it over for some sort of inspection. Bitterness and anger burned within Rhaenyra’s chest. It wasn’t right what Alicent was doing. It was humiliating and demeaning.

The midwives fussed around Rhaenyra as Daenera watched with big, concerned eyes. The sounds her mother made were the same as when she was giving birth. Was there another? Rhaenyra reluctantly handed over the baby to a midwife.

Daenera tried to get the excitement back, but the worry overshadowed the feeling.

The midwives peeled off Rhaenyra’s underdress she had worn throughout the birth, the wet fabric clinging to her skin, coloured by blood and the water of the womb. Every movement seemed a great effort and very painful. Her baby brother cried for his mothers loving warmth. 

They then helped Rhaenyra into a blue underdress before putting another dress over it, the bodice loose and of a different fashion than what she usually wore. She tried to calm the child with shushing, all the while feeling the painful contractions pull at her insides. “Mhmm, mm, it’s coming.”

Daenera watched her mother fold over in pain as the midwives sunk to their knees, pushing the princesses skirts up. “The afterbirth!” 

This time water drippled to the floor as Rhaenyra pushed, trying to get the thing over with. Daenera’s eyes had gone wide. “Are you giving birth again?”

“No, no, no,” Rhaenyra groaned, licking her lips as her face contorted in pain with another push. “It’s… the afterbirth. It’s like a protective sack for the child.”

“You give birth twice?!” Daenera exclaimed in exasperation and disbelief. Did all women give birth twice for one baby?! The gods are truly cruel. 

Rhaenyra laughed through the pain, though the laughter got as distorted as her face. Blood ran down her legs with each push. 

“Here it comes,” Rhaenyra hissed through clenched teeth. 

Once the afterbirth had come out, one of the midwives examined it to ensure that nothing was left inside the princess, while the other two servants assisted in lacing up the dress. Only then, the baby was carefully placed in its mothers arms, wrapped in a soft silk blanket, with gold embroidery at the edges. 

Rhaenyra waddled though her rooms, heading towards the doors when they were suddenly swung open by Laenor, his face revealing his excitement. 

“A boy. I’ve just heard,” he greeted them, relief joying the excitement on his face. 

“Yes.” 

“Well done… Where are you going?” Lanor asked, confused at his wife's persistent walk. 

“ She wants to see him,” Rhaenyra bit out.

Daenera was the one to elaborate. “The queen wants to see the baby immediately, she said.”

“What, now?” Laenor asked in the same disbelief as Daenera felt. “I’m coming.”

“I should hope so.”

“I’m coming as well,” Daenera joined in. 

Rhaenyra came to a halt, casting her gaze down at her second born, a daughter who adored her and would be at her side wherever she went. However, this time she could not accompany her. 

“No, you’ll stay right here,” Rhaenyra told her. 

“Why?! I want-,”

“Stay, Daenera. This isn’t a child's game,” her mother cut her off. Trying to quell the anger she drew in a deep breath, then looked upon her daughter. “It is best if you stay. Go find your brothers and tell them the news.” 

Daenera knew she wouldn’t make any difference in arguing, so she instead nodded and ran down the halls, picking up the skirts so as to not fall in them. Jace and Luke had just arrived at the tiltyard with Ser Harwin following suit, two dragon keepers carrying a brazier between them, the heat of which distorted the air around it. 

Daenera huffed and puffed, cheeks red. “Its-it’s a boy.” 

Jace and Luke jumped with excitement, gripping onto one another as they jumped around in a celebratory circle. Ser Harwin’s eyes were beaming, though the smile on his face was small. 

“Come on, let’s get back to mothers chambers!” Jace yelled, gripping Luke’s arm, pulling the younger with him. “Let’s see who’s fastest!”

Jace ran off, Luke right at his heels, yelling about how unfair it was because he had a headstart and longer legs. 

“Please, Ser Harwin, would you join us in our celebration?”

“I would like that very much, Princess Daenera.”

The two of them walked up the steps and into the hall once more, meeting a fleet of people, all congratulating the princess on her new brother. Daenera accepted their congratulations with a smile and a nod. It was only when the halls were less crowded she began speaking again. “The queen sent for the child immediately after he was born. Mother refused to let him go, so she went along with him.”

“Your mother walked all the way to the queen's chambers?” Ser Harwin asked. He knew of the animosity between the queen and the princess, knew of the bad blood and the rivalry, but he had not thought that the queen would force a woman who had just given birth to walk all the way through the castle to see the child. 

If anything, as a woman herself, she should have let the princess heal or come to her herself.

Ser Harwin found it vile, and he couldn’t blame Rhaenyra for the spite that seemed to course through her veins. 

“Yes,” Daenera’s voice quivered with the single word.

“Your mother is strong. Stronger than any woman I’ve ever met, do not worry for her,” Ser Harwin told the young princess. 

“How can I not, when she was still bleeding when she left,” Daenera said. She would never forget this slight, nor would she forgive it. 

By the time Daenera and Ser Harwin entered Rhaenyra’s apartments, the brothers had resumed their play with their toys. Each had two lines of wooden soldiers marching against one another. Luke was flying a wooden dragon in the air, attacking Jace’s troops. Ser Harwin knelt down to observe the game while Daenera sat on the settee, one leg bouncing in impatience, not listening to her brother's play.

“And he sees a big, scary dragon!” Jace told Luke, holding up the biggest dragon to combat the one Luke had. 

It was then when the doors opened again, letting in Rhaenyra and Laenor. Ser Harwin was the first on his feet, then Daenera, Jace and Luke. Jace hurried over to the brazier containing the dragon egg that he, Daenera and Luke had chosen for their new sibling. 

“Look!” Jace presented for their mother. 

“We chose an egg for the baby,” Luke elaborated, looking down at the big, copper coloured egg. 

“Ah, that looks like the perfect one,” their mother told them, allowing Ser Harwin to help her sit down. She sounded exhausted. 

“I let Luke choose,” Jace told their parents. 

“Thank you, Jace,” Luke thanked his brother. Jace had after all chosen both Daenera’s egg and Lukes. It was only fair that he too should choose one for his sibling. 

“It’s not everyday an egg leaves the dragonpit, princess,” Ser Harwin began, slowly walking towards Laenor and the baby. “I thought it best to escort the lads.”

Ser Harwin looked down at princess Rhaenyra, who in turn looked up at him. They gave each other a look that Daenera didn’t fully understand, it was the look of a shared secret, a look of devotion, loyalty and love. One not easily replaced or forgotten. It was subtle, but it was there. 

And Daenera couldn’t understand it. 

“Laenor and I thank you, Commander,” Rhaenyra replied. 

“Another boy, I was told,” Ser Harwin said. Rhaenyra flashed the father of her children a smile, hand brushing over the deflating swell of her stomach, trying to alleviate the pain within. 

“What a fine knight you’re going to make, eh?” Laenor mused at the baby, gently rocking it. 

“Might I?” Ser Harwin asked. He knew it was overstepping his bounds, but he wished to hold the child he helped make. Daenera looked at her mother, who was watching the two fathers, one in name and one in blood. Laenor had to know, and if he knew, then they all had some sort of silent agreement. 

“Ser Harwin wishes to be introduced to Joffrey,” Rhaenyra spoke, her voice smooth and quiet, not at all the same as when she was straining with pain. 

“Of course,” Laenor said, handing over the baby. 

“Joffrey, is it?”

“Mhm.”

“Father, please may I hold Joffrey?” Luke asked, reaching for his brother, no longer able to stand the wait. Laenor dismissed the notion, guiding the two boys out of the rooms. 

Daenera remained for a moment, looking from a smitten Commander of the City Watch, to her loving mother. Their eyes med and Rhaenyra gestured with her head for Daenera to follow the boys out. Daenera nodded in agreement and headed out. 

The boys went ahead of Daenera and Laenor, even in their reluctance of leaving their newborn brother, they still felt excitement at their lessons at the dragonpit. Daenera was less excited only because she herself didn’t have a dragon. 

“Can I skip today's lesson at the Dragonpit?” Daenera asked her father. 

“Why?”

“I don’t have a dragon to train with for one,” Daenera argued the same point she had used so many times before. Being at the Dragonpit, having lessons in dragons, how to train them and how to speak to them and eventually ride them, were a continuous reminder of what she did not have. It always left a bitter taste in her mouth. What good are dragon lessons when you don't have a dragon? 

“Neither do Aemond and he’s still there,” Laenor reminded her.

“He doesn’t want to be there either,” Daenera argued back. 

“You are a Targaryen and Velaryon both, it is part of our traditions and you should take part in them, even when you do not see the point,” Laenor told his daughter. “My sister-,”

“Didn’t have a dragon either,” Daenera finished his sentence, knowing it by heart. “And now she rides the biggest and mightiest dragon of them all, Vhagar. I know, I know. But perhaps I’m not meant to ride dragons! Perhaps it’s all a waste.”

“I don’t think that, Daenera,” Laenor said, holding out a hand in front of her, stopping her in her tracks. He knelt down on her level, his face not at all reflected in her own. “I think you’ll ride a dragon one day, and to do that you’ll need the lessons. Being a dragonrider is in your blood.”

“Can I just… skip today, please? I promise I’ll go next time and the time after that,” Daenera pleaded. 

“You’ll promise not to make it a habit?” Laenor caved, unable to fully refuse his daughter. 

“I promise,” Daenera answered. 

“You know you’ll have to keep your promises. You need to be a lady of her words.”

“I am.”

“Good. What will you spend the time on then?”

“I’ll go see Helaena,” Daenera told him, wrapping her arms around his neck in a big hug. She kissed his cheek and turned on her heel, running towards the library to pick up the book she had been thinking about, before heading towards the queens chambers where she knew Helaena would be. 

Daenera knocked on the door of the queen chambers, cradling her book in her arms, rolling back and forth on her feet as she waited for it to be opened. The heavy wooden door, so finely carved, creaked open to reveal the queen in her fine green dress, a deep emerald, curls of hair pinned up with ringlets falling down her back like a waterfall. Daenera smiled politely, leaning a bit forward to peek inside, catching a glimpse of silver hair.

“Princess Daenera shouldn’t you be at the Dragonpit?” Alicent asked, lips pursed in disapproval. 

Daenera would mirror the queen's face, if it wasn’t for the fact that it would make it unlikely that she’d be allowed to stay with Helaena. She also had to bite back sour words that were filling her mouth as she wished to give out a tongue lashing to the queen for her treatment of her mother. It wouldn’t do any good either. 

“I’ve been allowed not to attend today and thought I’d instead spend my time with Helaena,” Daenera answered, eyes shifting back to Alicent trying to convey innocence and sincerity. “I’ve brought a book that I wish to read to her.”

“And what book might that be?” 

“It’s about the warrior princess Nymeria and her life,” Daenera told the queen. There was a flicker of emotion flashing across the queen's face before she was able to conceal it beneath her carefully crafted mask. Alicent smiled shortly and stepped aside allowing Daenera to enter. 

Daenera hurried over to Helaena and positioned herself in the chair beside the settee, legs inches off the ground, the thick volume of Nymeria’s life heavy on her lap. Helaena didn’t acknowledge her friend's presence, eyes transfixed on the centipede climbing from one hand to another, its many legs tickling across her pale skin. Daenera didn’t mind the lack of acknowledgement, she was used to it. Helaena might be in her own world most of the time, but she knew of her presence, Daenera was sure of it. 

“This one has sixty rings and two pairs of legs on each. That’s two hundred and forty,” Helaena told no one in particular. Alicent at sat down beside her daughter, looking at the girl with a wistful look in her eyes. “It has eyes, though… I don’t believe it can see.”

“Why is that so, do you think?” Alicent asked her daughter, with a wish of understanding edged upon her face, softening her otherwise hardened features. 

“It is beyond our understanding.”

“I suppose you’re right, some things just are.”

Daenera flipped through the pages of the book, the scent of old paper wafting up from the pages. Some of them were painted with images. She stopped at the page where they had left off the last time and Daenera picked up from there, beginning to read out loud. 

“What is this?” Daenera suddenly said, frown tugging at her brows, her hand turning from one page to another, trying to figure out what had just happened in the story. “A page is missing.”

“ A love irrefutably torn, a path not taken, yet still fondly remembered ,” Helaena mused, her last words being nearly cut off by the abrupt opening of the doors. 

Alicent got up, her heels clicking over the stone floor, while Daenera continued to try and figure out how she was to piece the story together without all of the pages. Who would do such a thing? It was obscene, that was what it was. In her wonderings, Daenera vaguely heard the guard speak. 

“Your grace.”

“Aemond? What have you done?” Alicent breathed aghast at the sight of her second son, hair mussed up, dirtied and rumpled, with a sad look upon his face. Daenera glanced up to catch sight of him and his miserable expression. 

“He did it again,” Helaena responded, her eyes suddenly present and looking upon her brother. Aemond’s presence always seemed to bring Helaena back down to earth, an anchor keeping her present. Sometimes it annoyed Daenera that she couldn’t always do that. 

“After how many times you’ve been warned, must I have you confined to your chambers?” Alicent chastised. 

Daenera pursed her lips, split between feeling elated of the chastisement and bad for the boy. It was an odd, conflicting emotion. She didn’t want him in trouble, that was why she hadn’t told her mother about his jeerings, the veiled accusation of her bastardry. But she couldn’t deny the contentment she also felt when he finally got chastised for something. 

“They made me do it!” Aemond argued, miserable and angry. Hurt . Bullied .

“As if you needed encouragement,” Alicent asserted, knowing well how many times Aemond had snuck down into the depths of the Dragonpit and how many times the dragon keepers had to save him. By now it was a common occurrence. “Your obsession with those beasts goes beyond understanding.”

“They gave me a pig!” Aemond blurted, tears in his eyes. Helaena looked back at Daenera, her eyes dimming as she disappeared into her own world again, flickering down to the centipede in her hands, tiny legs drilling over her skin as it tried to escape. Daenera made a confused grimace and too forced her eyes back to the book, though ears keenly listened in. 

“A what?”

“They said they found me a dragon,” Aemond continued distressed, the hurt and anger pitching his voice high, face scowling. Daenera pressed her lips together, keeping the words from tumbling out. They had pranked him. Mocked him. And he so willingly jumped in with both feet. While Daenera had resigned to her lack of a dragon, Aemond had not. It was his greatest wish. He already felt lesser than and with Aegon’s cruelty and emasculation, the anger that he didn’t have a dragon, burned spitefully and wrongly in his veins. 

Daenera pitied him. 

“The last ring has no legs at all,” Helaena mused quietly to herself.

“But it was a pig.”

“You will have a dragon one day,” Alicent assured her son. “I know it.”

“ He’ll have to close an eye ,” Helaena continued musing, eyes fixed on the many legs moving in tandem. Daenera looked up at the girl confused, but shrugged it off for one of her many oddities. 

Daenera leaned in, voice low. “What will I have to do to get a dragon?”

Helaena looked like she pondered the question, head tilting, though eyes still focused on the insect. “I do not know yet… But fire will take your blood soon. Fire set by the fireflies.”

Daenera felt her heart sink into her stomach. 

“...They all laughed,” Aemond said barely above a whisper. “They called it the pink dread.”

Daenera couldn’t contain the snort, the sound cutting through the room and striking an already wounded Aemond, who glared over at her in fury. A boy wronged. Daenera laughed though. “I’m sorry, but the pink dread is funny! It’s a brilliant name.”

“It’s not funny,” Aemond growled at her, indignant and annoyed. He stepped out of his mothers arms, angrily stomping the ground as he seethed. 

“Did you really believe Aegon found you a dragon?”

“It wasn’t just Aegon! Jace and Luke were in on it as well. They strapped wings and a tale on a pig-,”

“Must have been a fight,” Daenera interrupted with her musings, flipping the page, unbothered by Aemonds deadly glare. 

“They made you one as well,” Aemond sneered, his words bringing her eyes back on him, a brow lifting, the perfect picture of being unbothered by it all. It infuriated him even more. How could she be so dismissive? So unbothered? Was it because she was a bastard? “The white terror.”

A flash of disappointment crossed her face, nose scrunching up sourly. “Not as good a name as the pink dread.”

The Terror was an unclaimed dragon that was spotted anywhere from the North to Dorne to Essos. It was a wanderer, and an absolute menace of a Dragon. It was said to have been ridden by a Targaryen bastard, but nothing much was known about them. It had not been claimed since and was mostly feral. The pink dread was better though. Balerion had been the biggest and oldest dragon, ridden by Aegon the first himself. 

“They’re mocking us-,”

“They were mocking you!”

“That is enough, Daenera,” Alicent chastised Daenera. 

“Don’t let them bother you,” Daenera shrugged. “If you don’t take the bait, if you don't show that it bothers you, they’ll eventually grow bored.”

“How can you be so dismissive?! We’re Targaryens without dragons! Everyone laughs at us.”

“They may be laughing at you, Aemond, but they’re not laughing at me,” Daenera snapped the book shut, getting to her feet. She looked down at Helaena placing a quick kiss on her head, before bowing shortly at the queen. She passed between the table and the settee, heading up the few steps and towards the doors, meaning to pass Aemond by, when she paused. “If they laughed at me, I’d make them regret it.” 

Aemond’s hands balled into fists at his sides. He felt his mothers hand on his shoulder, a silent command not to lose his temper at the princess once again. He watched her go, grinding his teeth in effort not to spew out his misgivings and grievances. She was so stupid and annoying . A bastard girl . Did she think she was better than him?

[jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels]

Rabbits

Rabbits

Rabbits

Happy Spring!

[jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels]

Show Me Pt.2 | Older!Neighbour!Eddie X Reader

Summary: Eddie finds your little treasure chest and decides to have some fun with you.

Cw: established relationship, age gap, use of sex toys on reader, oral, p in v, breeding kink? (Reader is on birth control but not disclosed in fic), creampie, dirty talk, daddy kink, pussy slapping, orgasm denial, anal play, possessive Eddie, soft!Dom Eddie x f!sub reader.

WC 3.2k

Read part 1

“Sunshine, can you come up here?” your boyfriend calls out from your loft.

He had run up to take a shower not too long ago after coming home from a long day at the shop. He won’t admit it but he much prefers your sweet smelling expensive soaps and lotions to his off brand 2 in 1.

“What is it baby?” You ask as you walk up the stairs to see your boyfriend clad in a low hanging towel, reminding you of the first time you had met him six months ago. His wet happy trail lead to that delicious bulge he is packing.

He was standing in front of your bed like he was trying to hide something with his wide frame.

“I don’t know you tell me?” He shrugged.

You could tell he was up to something. You give him a pointed look before he continues.

“I thought we were good, Sugar? I thought that we had trust? but now I don’t know who you are anymore?”

“Eddie, baby what are you talking about?” Now you were worried. What did he think you did?

“We have such a strong relationship, and you think you could hide this from me?” He steps to the side, revealing what is on your bed.

Your eyes widen as your multiple vibrators, dildos, and other play toys are splayed across the floral duvet.

“Eddie!” You rush over, trying to cover them up, mildly embarrassed. Eddie was the only one you’d been with; you didn’t want to scare him away with your collection.

Eddie stops you before you can do anything.

“Nuh-uh, I don’t think so, missy; you can’t just pretend that you have all these tools and not think I’m not going to play, do you?”

A wave of arousal washed over your core at his words. Eddie using your toys on you? That’s something you never dreamed of. However, it’s your most desired need right now.

“I-I-“

“Now, you’ve been a naughty girl, keeping this from me.”

“No! I’ve been so good!” You counter back, only knowing it would rile Eddie up even more, and you could feel his stiffening cock on your thigh.

“I think we should start off slow… tease you until you’re begging for it. How’s that sound?” Eddie’s hot breath fanned across your ear and neck, sending a shiver up your spine.

“Oh-okay,” you stuttered.

“Good girl,” he tapped your ass before telling you to strip.

Your clothes came off instantly, and Eddie’s towel had been hung up on the bathroom door to dry.

His half-hard cock bounced as he walked over to the bed before picking up a small pink vibrator, one of your favourites, and sat down in the middle of the bed up against the pillows. He patted his thick, hairy thigh as he instructed you to come sit between his legs. You crawled up to him before turning around, resting your back against him, and letting your head fall on his shoulder.

“Lean back and open your legs for me, Sugar, yea that’s it.” His rough, thick hands explored your inner thighs as he made sure you were sitting and as widely spread as possible.

He kissed the side of your neck as his hands travelled up and across your stomach, around to your breasts, making sure to pinch your nipples as his mouth explored your delicate skin.

He let his hands roam your soft body a little bit more before picking up the vibrator and turning it on.

A low buzzing filled the silent room before you let out a breathy moan as Eddie gently teased you. He let the little silicone toy glide across your arms, down your cleavage all the way past your belly button to your little thatch of hair that covered your mound, then back up again. You quivered as the vibrator tickled your nipples.

“More please.” Your hand gripped Eddie’s wrist.

“Not yet.” He mumbled in your ear.

“Please”

“No, Princess. You have been naughty. This is your punishment.”

“I’m sorry,” you pleaded. You would do anything for him, your touch, your already-soaked pussy. You could feel your slick, cool against the air of the room, but he kept building up the anticipation of finally touching you where you wanted it most.

“Oh, now you’re sorry,” he tutted.

“Yes,” you gasp.

Eddie’s free hand found your nipple, tweaking and pinching it to his desire. This only flooded your pussy once more with arousal. You could feel it start to run down your thighs as you tried to close your legs for any sense of friction.

“No,” Eddie growled once again, unlatching his fingertips from your nipple and vibrator to wrench your legs open once again.

“You’re going to keep your pretty legs open so Daddy can play.” his hot lip brushed against your exposed throat.

A wet slap filled the bedroom as a sharp sting struck your clit when Eddie’s fingers slapped your swollen clit.

“Fuck!” You jerk your body back further into your boyfriend, only pushing his stiff cock into your back. You’re sure there will probably be a penis-head-shaped bruise there in a few hours, and the thought made you giggle.

“Oh, you like that baby girl?” His condescending tone only made you wetter.

His thick tattooed fingers came down on your pussy once again before pinching your clit between his thumb and forefinger.

You grip his forearms needing something to dig your fingers into, and let out a breathy moan, and Eddie’s cock twitches at your shaky voice.

“I think you’re enjoying this a little too much” he picked up the vibrator again, clicked it on the second strongest level and finally placed it on your clit.

Your hips automatically started gyrating into you as your orgasm quickly built.

“You going to cum?”

“Mmhm,” you nod your head.

“Not yet,” he growled.

“Okay” you whined as you tried your hardest to stay still, you hold on but Eddie was teasing you so good you couldn’t help but feel the need to cum right now-

“Good girl,” he swirled the vibrator around and around.

“I wanna cum, please!”

“I decide when.”

But you couldn’t hold on any longer. “Daddy, I’m cumming!”

Eddie ripped the toy away from you the second the words left your lips, denying you your pleasure.

“This one doesn’t seem to be working,” he clicked it off and threw it to the side.

“No, no, please,” you cried.

“Don’t be a brat” he slapped your throbbing pussy once more before pushing you up off of him so he could crawl to the end of the bed and get a fresh toy.

“No! I was so close-”

“Let’s try this one.” He plucked up your rabbit, and you stopped arguing.

You frantically nod your head as you crawl back, splaying your legs wide open for Eddie. His eyes zoned in on your glistening pussy lips. They were puffy and swollen and the prettiest shade. You watched as his eyes glazed over with lust; you knew he wanted to dive in.

“I know you wanna, Daddy,” you teased, slipping your middle finger through your folds.

“No, mine.” Eddie pushed your hand away and replaced it with his own.

You let your head fall back as his thick fingers ran through your folds, collecting your slick before he pushed it up inside of you.

A throaty moan left your lips and your overly sensitive pussy clenched down on Eddie’s finger.

“Your pussy is so tight, baby, I can’t wait to stuff it full with my cock”

“I need you!”

“Greedy, greedy girl, so greedy for my cock”

“Only yours!”

“That’s right, baby girl, this pussy is mine, mine, mine,” he worked his fingers inside your pussy as he spoke.

“Can I cum, now?” Your eyes watered; you needed it so badly.

“No, Sunshine. We haven’t even started.” He smirked and removed his fingers and sucked them clean before he reached over for the rabbit you had forgotten about.

Eddie ran the tip of the toy through your puffy folds before breaching your tight hole. Once it was fully submerged and the ears were pushed against your clit is when he turned it on.

A throaty growl left your mouth when he started up the toy.

“This one your favourite princess?”

You nod your head frantically, not able to speak. The vibrations on your clit mixed with the thrusting in the dildo made your head spin.

“Tell me how you use it.”

“Wh-what?” You were fucked out already, and you hadn’t cum once yet.

“When you’re all alone, dreaming about me, needy for my touch. What. Do. You. Do?”

“Eddie! Eddie! Eddie!” You chant his name like a mantra as he pumps the purple toy in and out of your needy cunt.

“That’s what I like to hear, but I prefer Daddy. You know that princess” he slipped it out fully, and you cried out again. Your orgasm was so close, just ripped away from you once again.

“Daddy, please!” You slam your fists in that bed with frustration.

“I’m sorry, baby girl.” He wasn’t sorry at all.

His cock was throbbing. This was the longest foreplay he’d ever put you through, and you’d yet to touch him.

“I think it’s Daddy’s turn for a little fun.” He sat up, crawling up your body to kiss you for the first time since this little punishment started. He was only a man; he could only hold out for so long.

Your lips were hungry as your tongue slipped past his lips. You needed any kind of comfort and contact from your boyfriend.

You let out a whimper as his large tattooed frame pulled away.

“Now, now, Sunshine, you get to have fun too.” He laid back beside you, and you quickly shuffled your way down to rest between his legs.

You lay flat on your stomach, aligning your mouth with his bright pink cock.

His cock lay flat against his trim stomach aligning with the happy trail covering his belly button. His clean dark hair surrounding the base of his shaft and his full round balls only made his cock more tempting.

Your mouth watered as you grasped it in your hand. Your fingers hardly touch as his girth was so wide. You waisted not another moment as you brought the tip up to your lips. Eddie’s eyes found yours as he gazed down at you lovingly; he couldn’t hold back his smile as his good girl took his cock so well.

“Yes, that’s it, baby, good girl,” he praised as your mouth took him further. His usual briny, salty taste was replaced by floral sweetness as he used your soaps and shampoos not an hour ago.

You hummed as he hit the back of your throat, and it sent a wave of pleasure through Eddie. Your hair was pulled taut from Eddie’s fingers, gripping it in his fist.

As you gripped the base of his cock in one hand, your other travelled under to fondle his balls; your mouth worked its way up and down the long thick shaft before your mouth found his balls. You continued jerking him while you kissed and sucked his perfect balls.

“Fuck Princess, you’re so good at that, my perfect girl. My good girl” his lean stomach clenched as he tried to hold off his orgasm.

“But I thought I was naughty, Daddy?” You pout innocently. You knew what you were doing.

“You were, but I think you’ve shown me you’re sorry.” He shifted his weight to crawl back to the end of the bed where the toys were still gathered. You scanned the options, excited for what he would choose for you next.

“Now, Princess. There is something that we haven’t tried yet. Now you are in control with this, so you can tell me no, but-” he reaches down on the bed, and your eyes widen when you spot the toy he fondles.

“Yes,” you don’t hesitate. Your pussy floods once again as Eddie brings up the silver bejewelled butt plug to view.

“You sure?”

Before Eddie could finish speaking, you’re already on your hands and knees, arching your back and presenting yourself to your boyfriend. You eagerly wiggled your cheeks at Eddie, and he just about came right then and there.

“Fuck” Eddie fucks his fist as he watches his girl spread herself for him with all the confidence and need. “What did I do on God's green earth to deserve you?”

“Probably something realllllly good,” you smirk over your shoulder, biting your lip as you watch Eddie watch you. “Lube is in the same drawer,” you motion to the nightstand.

Quickly, Eddie hops off the bed and gets the lube before he busts a nut by just looking at you.

You hear the hard plastic of the lid snap and the lewd, wet sound of the lube being squirted out of the bottle. The cold liquid hits your puckered hole, and you flinch a little at the temperature shock, but Eddie quickly warms it up with his fingers, and he circles your tight hole with his fingers before slowly pushing them inside.

You breathe in sharply as Eddie’s thick fingers spread you open. You feel so full as he pumps them in and out, slowly spreading you open.

“Good girl, just like that. Relax for me, Sunshine.”

“So good,” you whisper, pushing your ass further into Eddie’s penetration.

“I think you’re ready, princess.”

“Yes,” you agree.

Eddie twirls the little jewel in his hand, admiring it before he gently pushes it into your ass.

“Fuck” you both breathe out as it enters you.

Eddie can’t help but stroke his cock in his fist again as he takes a mental picture. There was no way he was ever forgetting this moment; this spank bank material would last him a lifetime.

“Daddy, please,” You wiggled your ass once more, and you swear you heard Eddie whimper behind you.

Your glistening pussy was so inviting, especially with the little silver jewel perched right atop your needy hole, only making it more pleasurable for both of you.

“Gunna mark my pussy, gonna fill it with so much cum” Eddie finally slipped his cock into your dripping cunt.

You let out a guttural moan as his thick cock splits you open.

“Fuck me, you’re so tight,” Eddie grits through his teeth; he can feel the butt plug inside you as he pushes through your wet canal.

You felt so full, so good, and so fucked out as Eddie started to pump himself in and out of you. He couldn’t believe how fucking sexy you were. He couldn’t be that you let him play with you like this. He could use his own little doll to his pleasure.

He snapped his hips into your wet pussy, and his balls slapped against your clit, only aiding your pleasure. The sounds of wet slaps and moans of pleasure filled the quiet loft. Eddie grazed against your g spot on each snap, and Eddie could see the creamy ring collect at the bottom of his cock. Your slick coated his thick thatch of hair at the base of his shaft, but he didn’t care; he wanted you to mark him.

“God, your pussy is so good, so tight, so perfect, my perfect little princess”

“Eddie!” You cry your orgasm building and building. You prayed he would let you fall apart this time.

“I can feel you, baby; your pussy is clenching my cock so good.” He slapped your plush ass cheek, and that made you quiver. Your elbows give out, and your head falls into the bed below you, only making your ass stick out further.

You feel Eddie grip each cheek in both hands, his whole palm covers most of your ass, and he spreads you open even wider. He loves watching as his cock disappears as you suck him in.

“Fuck, you’re being so good for Daddy.”

“More,” you whimper.

Eddie reaches over at your request and finds the pink vibrator, and flicks it on to the highest setting before placing it in your swollen clit.

You can’t hold off for ten seconds, and your body convulses under Eddie’s touch.

“I’m cuming!!” Your body washes over with a bolt of pleasure rippling through you.

“Fuck, such a good girl, fuckin’ gripping my cock so tight. You want this cum so badly, don’t you? Squeezing me so good, you make sure that I’m going to pump you so full”

Eddie’s hips only worked faster; the vibrator was still latched to your clit, you were overly sensitive, but Eddie didn’t care you were going to cum on his cock again.

“Eddie, please, too much.” You were vibrating along with the toy attached to your cunt.

“You wanted more, Princess, I’m giving you more.”

That condescending motherfuck-“DADDY!” You scream out as your second orgasm takes over your senses. This time, your knees gave out, and you fell flat against the bed.

“Oh, I fucked you that good baby?” He chuckles.

You can only moan in reply.

The new angle tightened on Eddie's cock, and he couldn’t hold off any longer.

“You’re going to take all this cum, baby; you’re going to let me pump you so full it will be dripping out of you for days. Your little belly is going to swell; you're going to carry my baby. Do you want that? Want me to fuck a baby into you?”

“YES,” you cry; his cock gets so good you can’t think about anything else than how Eddie made you feel. You wanted his cum so bad you clamp down on his cock again, and Eddie can’t take it.

Hot ropes of white seed are shooting into your cunt as Eddie continues to pump his cock deep into you, making sure he fills you.

Reluctantly, Eddie pulls out of you as his cock starts softening within you. All you can do is lay there as your body still tingles.

“Let me see you, pretty girl” Eddie takes your leg and flips your effortlessly so you’re on your back and spread open for him to see his hot cum leaking out of your used cunt onto the butt plug that’s still fully submerged in your ass.

“So fucking pretty” Eddie squeezed the fatty meat of your inner thigh before placing a kiss on your clit, making you jerk.

“Oh, she’s so sensitive,” he smirks before placing two more kisses on your pussy before sitting up to help clean you up.

“You okay, Sunshine?” He returned with a warm cloth to clean up the big mess he made of you.

“More than okay” you’re in heaven. You haven’t experienced sex like that before. It was fun, it was hot, it was tense, it was exciting, it was everything you needed.

“Good girl,” he grins as he places a gentle kiss on your lips. You couldn’t believe how good he was to you, and you moaned at the praise.

“Don’t tell me you’re ready to go again?” He chuckles.

“How could I not when you’re so sexy? You turn me on so bad” You roll on top of him, spreading your still-wet pussy over his soft bush and starting to grind down on his crotch.

“Fuck you can’t say things like that. Eddie sits up so he can kiss you.

“I think it’s your turn, Mr.Munson.” You reach over to your toys and click on the vibrator.

“You minx” he smacks your ass, and you get ready for round two.

tags: @edge-just-edge @skyline4446 @nailbatanddungeon @reidsbtch @snowflowersstars246 @eldermayfield @eddies-puppet @blue-slushy22 @birdysaturne @babyexpertlampskeleton @gri959 @starksbabie @bl00d-puppy @xxhellfirebunnyxx @amira0303 @ali-r3n @lavendermunson @fairykissesaresweet @minorlystuck13 @feral-pumpkin-energy @asimpforthe80s s @flawiette @munsoneightysixx @localemofreak @babybimbo777 @elegantkolalapaper @stayonmars @harringtonxkeery @hellfiremunsonn @eddiestans-blog @sp1dyb0y1008 @shadyhologrambanana @babygorewhore

[jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels]

Let Me Be Your Goodnight | Rockstar!Eddie x Reader

CW: angst, rough sex, possessive Eddie, female fingering, p in v (protected and unprotected) , creampie, biting, light choking, pet names, Eddie and Reader are fuck buddies, but Reader isn't necessarily a groupie? Mutual pining but Eddie is a fuckboi, heavily inspired by Temporary Fix by 1D lol. Not a happy ending?

WC: 4K

For my 1D babes this is for you 😏

His eyes were transfixed on you. There you were, front and centre, first row, directly in Eddie’s line of sight. Perfect. You were perfect. He wanted you the second he laid his eyes on you. Your cherry red lips are perfectly in sync with the lyrics falling off his lips. He knew he needed to have you.

He tried to find you after the show, but you were gone before security could reach you. You had slipped through his fingers.

Eddie couldn’t believe his luck when he saw you hours later during the after-party. There you were, across the bar, standing with somebody, but it was clear he didn’t know what you liked, but Eddie knew; he read you like a book. Your body language was not inviting, and the eye roll you gave when the guy leaned in and whispered something in your ear. He knew you didn’t want to talk to this guy any longer.

Remembering how your eyes trailed his sweaty muscles as he performed for the crowd. How you were making his leather pants tighter than when they put them earlier that night.

You watched as Eddie sauntered over to you, pushing the countless bodies, including the guy who was trying to take you home, to get to you.

“Hey gorgeous, what’s a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?” He leans on the bar, so close you’re almost touching.

“I’m sorry? who are you?” You twirl the straw in your cocktail.

“Feeling bratty tonight, aren’t we?”

You turn your back on him, flipping your hair over your shoulder, Eddie gets a whiff of your sultry perfume as you do. His eyes scanned your back, stopping at the hem of the tight, shiny black mini-skirt.

You feel Eddie walk up closer behind you, his breath cascading down your collarbone, his body heat radiating off of him like a furnace. You couldn’t help but react as his deep, raspy voice whispered in your ear.

“You know what I think, baby? I think you’re getting real tired of running that mouth of yours… maybe I can show you another way to use it.”

“Excuse you?” You snap.

“You know I saw you looking at me first.” He smirked.

“Who do-”

“And when I was on that stage, all I could think about was you waking up in nothing but my shirt, in my bed.” His hand trailed up the side of your leg and around to the hem of your skirt.

A small gasp leaves your lips as you let Eddie’s hand travel further towards your inner thighs that were clenched.

“You don’t have to tell me anything; I don’t have to read your mind… You’re soaked for me, and you have been since you saw me on stage; why else would you be front and centre, hmmm?”

The cocky prick knew your weakness, and your weakness was him.

“Eddie,” your body relaxes into him, and he removes his hand so it’s in a less compromising position.

“Oh, so the Princess does know who I am?”

“Shut up.” You were not very convincing; you were transfixed by him.

“If you're not hooked on anything right now, I can be your vice.” his plush lips grazed that spot on your neck he knew all too well.

Now, this was not the first time you let Eddie touch you. Any time he was in town, you ended up being pulled together like two magnets. You couldn’t help yourselves; you were addicted. But every time you say it’s the last, that it won’t happen again. That’s why you turned your back to him; if you saw those eyes, you knew you would, in fact, be waking up in his t-shirt.

A moan leaves your ruby-red lips as you feel his hand interlace with your own. Before you know it, you’re willingly being pulled by Eddie, and your lips are attached to his neck as he pulls you out of the club, trying to call a taxi.

A million lights flash as you exit the club, and paps and car headlights flash as he surprisingly doesn't cover your face like he usually would. You’ve seen him paps with dozens of other women; he’s always covering their faces, not wanting to show them off… but not you. Not tonight.

Lipstick is tattooed on Eddie’s throat, claiming him as your own. You couldn’t help it; there was something about Eddie that made you act like an animal. It wasn't the fame or the glitz or the glam or even the money, for that matter. It was Eddie, how he commanded the stage, how he carried himself, how he knew exactly what made you tic.

Eddie could hardly get into the car before he felt your body climb on top of him. Your skirt hiked up, and you straddled him in the back seat. Your hips ground into Eddie’s already hardening cock, and Eddie's hands shot up to your ass to keep you from moving.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Need you.”

“Did my baby miss me?”

You didn’t reply, how could you? Truthfully, Eddie was everything you wanted, but he wasn’t cut out for settling down. You knew there was another version of you in each city, and you couldn’t take the heartbreak.

Your lips latched on his neck once again, only this time you sucked the skin until it was black and blue. That could be his problem for his next girl tomorrow, but for right now, he will be yours tonight.

The ride to the hotel in NYC took as long as expected at two in the morning. The paps tried to follow you, but the taxi driver surprisingly lost their tail. Eddie let out a sigh of relief as he pulled you into the hallways off the elevator. Finally, he was back in the hotel room. He wanted you so bad, even if it was temporary; he was desperate for you. You were his favourite; you could actually be someone to him if he would let you, but Eddie was stubborn. Love didn’t exist for Eddie; he knew that.

“Tell me what you want, gorgeous.”

“I need you.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” he ruts his hips into you, pressing you further into the hotel room wall. His lips found your neck, and his hips ground onto you.

You needed Eddie’s hands; his talented fingers were pinning your hands down, but you wanted him to touch you; you needed him to touch you. You squirm under Eddie’s grasp, and he has you right where he wants you. Needy.

“Eddie, touch me already.” You were done with these games; you both were here for one reason. There is no need to beat around the bush or be timid or embarrassed about getting what you want. You wanted him to make you cum, and you were going to get it.

“There’s my girl, knows what she wants”

“Not your girl,” you moan as his fingers trail up your inner thigh.

“No?” Eddie cocks his head because in his mind, you were his favourite.

“Please, I know you, Eds.” You locked eyes. “Tell me to my face I’m the only girl you want... like you were balls deep in someone else yesterday.”

You were right; he couldn’t give you the answer he wanted, but he didn’t want it to be true.

“That’s what I thou-”

“You can own me,” Eddie quickly cut you off, “and we'll call this what you like.” His hands slipped under your panties and across your wet slit finding your swollen clit.

“Eddie!” You moan as your head falls back.

“Good girl, scream my name.” his thick, tattooed, ringed fingers slip past your folds and sink into your walls.

He watched your pretty red lips part as he worked his fingers up inside you, finding that spot deep inside you with ease. He knew your body, studied it, and now he was going to own it, even if it was just tonight.

You trembled below Eddie as his fingers pleasured you like no others could. This is why you keep coming back to Eddie. He knew how to work you, how to please you; he owned you; there was no denying.

“I’m coming!” You gripped his shoulders to brace yourself. It had been a while since Eddie, and you last got together, and he always could get you there quickly.

You needed to wipe that smug look off his face, so you kissed him so you didn’t have to look at him any longer. You push yourself off the wall and walk you and Eddie over to the bed.

Eddie fell back as you climbed on top of him. You needed to feel him under you, you wanted control, you wanted to be the one to give him the most mind-blowing sex of his life that any time he’s inside another girl, you’re the one he’s thinking of. No more temporary.

Grinding your hips down in Eddie's hard cock he lets out a whimper. The squeak of his leather pants against your core, heavy sighs and moans were the only sounds filling the room.

“You want me, Eddie?” You never used pet names with Eddie; it made things too real, and you couldn’t play into the fantasy that he was yours.

“Always, baby.” his chest rose and fell as he lay, and your fingers trailed down his stomach to the waistband of his pants.

“I don’t believe you.” You play with the happy trail leading toward what you want most.

“I’d say otherwise” Eddie cupped his hard cock, gesturing to how much he did in fact need you. You were the one, always.

You take his waistband between your fingers and yank his pants down. Unsurprisingly, he isn’t wearing underwear. His cock sprang free of the tight confines of his pants, and he breathed a sigh of relief. It looked painfully hard, and he looked desperate, needy, and beautiful.

“Tell me what you want, Eddie.”

“Already told you babygirl”

“Tell me again.”

“I want your sweet mouth on my cock; I want you to call me when you’re lonely when you can’t sleep,” he smirked, “You control me, baby, even if it’s just tonight.”

“Shut up” You gripped his hard cock in your hand and rolled your tongue over the tip before taking him as far as you could go. You didn’t let up, you didn’t slow down, you went for it, all in.

You knew he was full of shit, and you wanted to prove to him that he truly was missing out on the best thing that could happen to him.

“Shit, shit, shit, just like that, fuck, that mouth of yours is too good” he gripped your soft hair in his hands.

You worked him to his breaking point, his cock twitched, and you pulled off immediately,

“What the” Eddie stopped mid-sentence as he watched you slowly strip in front of him. His chocolate doe eyes widen as he watches your clothing come off piece by piece. Your exposed skin was calling him; he needed to feel your soft thighs warming his ears, your perfect tits cupped in his hands.

Your last article of clothing fell to the floor, and Eddie's eyes burned into you. He watched as you bent down to pick up his pants. He watched as you found his wallet, pulled it out, and opened it up to find the sealed golden foil he kept inside for times such as these.

You toss his wallet to the side and slowly crawl back to him.

Teasingly, you slowly unwrap the condom, watching Eddie drool as you do. You smirk, knowing you’re making him wait and squirm beneath you.

“Hurry up, baby girl.” He wants to grab the condom from your hand and do it himself so he can throw you around how he likes, but he also wants you to do it; he likes not having to be in control the whole time.

Unlike the others, you knew how Eddie wanted you and how he needed you.

“Patients Ed’s,” you cooed in his ear as your swollen lips trailed down his neck before you sat up to roll the condom on finally. His cock was leaking precum, so you dipped your head down one last time so you could lick it up. Once it was cleaned and clear, you swiftly rolled it down onto his throbbing member and positioned yourself over it so you could sink down.

Riding Eddie was always your favourite pastime; the way he filled you and brushed up against your walls, nothing could compare to that feeling he gave you.

You both let out a moan as you fully enveloped him. Eddie reaches up to grasp your hips to help you move with him. Sure, he loved you on top, in control, but he's only a man; he can't help but fulfill the need to thrust up into you.

Your thighs were burning, but you didn't care. The way Eddie was making you feel was all-consuming. His long hard cock hit that perfect spot every time you bounced down onto him. Skin slapping skin, your breasts bouncing in his face, your pretty mouth left agape in pleasure.

"That's it, bunny. Do you like being my little bunny, bouncing in my cock? This is the only cock that can make you feel this good isn't it?"

You didn't reply; you were too focused on the burning in your thighs and the pleasure building in your core.

Your hand slinked down between you and Eddie so you could rub your clit, giving you enough so your second orgasm of the night could build and build until Edie swatted your hand away.

"Answer me, Bunny," Eddie gritted through his teeth.

"Not your bunny, not yours." You didn't slow down; you only picked up speed.

"Wrong answer," Eddie was annoyed you never played into his little games like the others do.

You felt Eddie steady your waist, stopping you from bouncing, and flip you backwards so you were flat on your back, head almost falling off the foot of the bed.

You let out a startled yelp as Eddie yanks you by your ankles so you are closer to him.

He waists not another second to thrust back into your wet cunt.

"Fuck Eddie!" you cried as he roughly fucks into you. He had your legs pinned by your ears; you didn't even know you were that flexible.

"What was that gorgeous? You're not mine? I think you are, even if it's just tonight." he sneered.

A chain of curses left your mouth as Eddie pounded into you over and over and over again. His large hand travelled up to your chest, surprisingly not resting on your swollen breast but where your heart was.

You were slipping; you were feeling the weakness of your judgment unfold as your impending orgasm grew.

"You're so tight, baby girl; you're so tight for me; I can feel how close you are. You're gripping my cock so good." Eddie spoke as he stroked your hair out of your face. His actions were such a contradiction to how he was abusing your cunt.

"More, Eddie!" you pant.

"No, you know my cock is good enough to make you cum. You've been naughty. This is all you're getting unless you tell me you're mine." His hand slid up from where it was resting on your chest up to your throat, squeezing it hard enough that you still could breathe, but his fingers dug into you so hard there might be a mark left tomorrow.

Fuck him.

"No!" you spit.

"Then this is all you get. He leaned back, releasing your throat from his hands and replaced it with each of your ankles. He steadied himself before jackhammering into your cunt.

You let out a cry, and Eddie's hips slapped hard into you, his heavy balls hitting your ass with each thrust. The tip of his tick-long cock grazing your spot.

Eddie was right; his cock was all that you needed because you were coming in seconds, and he wasn't too far behind. Your body felt like it was dripping fire as your orgasm took over your mind and body.

Eddie fucking loved the way your cunt squeezed down on him every time he made you cum with his cock alone. He knew it was a rarity; he was so proud of himself each time.

He fell on top of you after that marathon of sex you both participated in. He pulled out, discarded the condom, and then went to crawl back into bed with you, but you were already up and halfway dressed.

"Where do you think you are going?" he blocks the door with his lean, naked frame.

"Home to sleep, it's three thirty. I'm tired."

"You think I'm letting you go out by yourself in the middle of the night? Looking like that?" He raises his brow.

Suddenly, the euphoria of the sex you just had completely drains out of you.

"What the fuck is that suppose to mean?"

"It means I'm not letting you, the most beautiful woman I've ever met, go out onto the streets where who knows what is out there so you can get snatched up. No way, you're spending the night; I'll sleep on the floor for all I care. It's not safe right now."

What the fuck was happening? Eddie always threw you out once you were done? And did he call you beautiful? Maybe you did, in fact, fuck his brains out?

"Uh, are you feeling okay?" You hold the back of your hand up to feel if he has a fever because what?

"I'm fine but won't be if you leave." He took your wrist off his head and looked you in the eyes.

"Fine, but you promised me a t-shirt." You decided to cave based on your better judgment. "And you don't have to sleep on the floor. I think we are way past that." You turned to walk back to the bed, slowly stripping for Eddie once more.

Eddie made his way over to the closet and pulled out his favourite shirt to give to you.

"Thanks." You caught it when he tossed it to you. You slip over your head before you turn to the bathroom to get unready the best you can.

Thankfully, the hotel came with a fresh toothbrush, and Eddie had cleanser and moisturizer you could borrow. You didn't bother brushing your hair. You just fixed it with your fingers and then exited the bathroom.

Eddie had just come in from the balcony after having a cigarette when you walked back out.

He drank you in; his shirt hugged you in all the right places. Your face was bare and fresh, but the hickeys he had left on your neck were raw; to him, you had never been more beautiful.

You watched him take you in, then hesitated before getting into the bed.

"Uh, what side do you want me to take?" suddenly nervous about sleeping in the same bed as him.

"I usually sleep on the right,"

"Good, I'm more of a left girl myself." God, that was lame.

"Meant to be," Eddie smirked before turning down the bed.

You tried not to read too much into that comment as you crawled in, lying down and facing away from him. You were stiff and didn't understand what had changed between now and all the other one-night stands.

"If you wanted to be the little spoon, all you had to do was ask baby." His strong arm wrapped around your middle and pulled your back flush to his chest.

Was Eddie Munson cuddling you? What kind of twilight zone have you entered?

"Um, Eddie?"

"Yeah, gorgeous?" He spoke as he nuzzled his face into your hair. You could feel his cock hardening against your ass, and there goes your train of thought. All semblance of a sentence was gone from your lips because Eddie's dick was pressed up against your backside.

You can't help it when your pussy floods itself all over again. You can't help it when your ass starts to grind into him.

"Greedy girl, you wanna go again?"

"You started it," You point out.

"Can't get enough of ol'Eddie, can ya, babygril?"

You let out a whine of frustration. You were supposed to be on your way home, but instead, here you are, begging for Eddie's cock once again because you're weak when it comes to him.

"I'll take that as a yes."

You don't let Eddie speak anymore before you take his cock and align it when your dripping entrance.

"Wait, are you sure?" Eddie asked; you never fucked without a condom before.

You didn't give him a verbal response; you only dragged his tip through your wet folds, confirming that this was what you wanted.

You opened your legs a bit wider to let Eddie glide in easily. Another wave of wetness pulsed out of your pussy as the velvety skin of Eddi's cock brushed up inside of you.

You feel Eddie's teeth sink into your shoulder as his hips slowly thrust into you. Your ass pressing into his bush with each thrust.

"Oh, Eddie!" You cried at the pain of his teeth marking you but also the euphoria that his bare cock was giving you. Eddie pulled you in closer, his hand wrapped around your middle, tweaking your hardened nipple under the sift you were wearing.

"Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, " Eddie spoke with each thrust.

"Yours, yours, yours yours," You agreed, fianllly you gave in.

He then gave in and finally played with your clit as he trusted in you again and again. It was slow and sloppy; he fell out a few times, but it was sex like you hadn't had with Eddie before.

Before, it was always rough and hard, a temporary fix to get off and go. But this was different. This was like he was fucking you as if he cared for you as a person. Not just another one in his little black book

Your mouth hung open as silent screams tried to come out of your lungs. You were speechless.

Eddie didn't say much either, which wasn't normal for him, but it didn't feel right at the moment. He wanted to endure the way your body wrapped around him. The way your cunt tightened when the pad of his finger grazed your swollen clit.

Before you knew it, you were coming undone all over Eddie once again. Your cum flooded over Eddie in a warm wet embrace, and that had him trying to pull out, but he wasn't fast enough. His cum was spurting up into you as his cock spasmed inside of you.

"Holly shit," He panted. Never had Eddie had such intimate sex before, and he didn't want to go back.

"Wow," you said when you started coming back to reality. You could feel Eddie's seed leaking out of you, and you needed to go get cleaned up, but you didn't think you could move.

Eddie peppered soft kisses along your neck and over your cheek before falling back exhausted.

"Good night, gorgeous." He wrapped his arms around you and fell asleep instantly.

The next afternoon, Eddie woke up to find he was alone. A pang of disappointment filled his chest before he spotted the note on your pillow.

"We need to talk."

That was all it said, followed by your phone number.

Eddie's stomach dropped while reading it, and he wasn't sure why, so he chose to ignore it and move on with his day...

You hadn't heard from Eddie for about a month, and it was killing you. Had he not seen the note?

You refused to be the one to reach out; you would not be that girl. So it surprised you when Eddie called five weeks later when he was back in New York.

"Hey gorgeous"

"Eddie, we need to talk."

"Don't think we will be doing much talking with your lips wrapped around my dick" You could practically see the smirk on his face. In any other instance, that probably would have made you roll your eyes and give in, but this was too important to skim over.

"Eddie, I'm pregnant."

Eddie doesn't respond, and you hear the disconnected tone on the other end of the line.

Tagging those who seemed interested:

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[jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels]

Eddie has a mindless habit of picking at his ripped jeans. When he catches Steve staring, he doesn’t think much of it, his flashy rings draw attention easily. He teases Steve, “You like shiny things, huh?”

It’s a joke, but Steve doesn’t laugh. He looks away quickly, like he’d been caught staring at something he wasn’t supposed to. That confuses Eddie, especially when it keeps happening. It doesn’t feel like a curious look anymore, Steve seems mesmerized by Eddie’s fingers toying with the strips of denim.

Eddie finds himself doing it on purpose when he’s around Steve. He lets his hand wander to the ripped denim, pretending not to notice when Steve looks, because he doesn’t want Steve to look away.

The realization slams through his chest. Eddie likes Steve’s attention on him. Steve’s gaze makes warmth simmer under his skin. Eddie’s never felt that before, not just from a look, and especially not from a guy.

It terrifies him a little, he doesn’t know if it’s attraction he feels for Steve, but it’s new and dangerous. He chases the feeling, twisting his jeans to shreds just so Steve will look at him.

Steve comes over to smoke once, sitting next to Eddie on the couch. They’re close enough that when Eddie reaches down for his knee, his knuckles brush Steve’s leg. Close enough that Eddie feels Steve’s breath catch when the threadbare denim snaps, revealing more skin underneath.

Eddie wonders if Steve wants to slide his fingers inside too. He wouldn’t mind. The quiet thought strikes into a burning desire when he realizes he wants Steve to touch him. It flusters him to an insane degree when he dares to think Steve might want that too.

An awkward laugh rushes, finding Steve’s heavy gaze on him when he looks over. “Stare any harder and I’ll start thinking you wanna rip my clothes off, Harrington.”

He goes blank when Steve replies quickly, like it’s something he’s been holding back saying for a while.

“If you keep doing that, I might.”