#my baby girl my sweet little Alice

[wewontbesleeping]

guys llewyn peed on Alice I have never been so upset in my LIFE

[cowgirlcherrie]

florist! abby Headcanons ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა

a/n: something quick n sweet you knowwwww got this random thought and had to write it I couldn’t resist I couldn’t. I also saw that no one done florist! abby(?) so I wanted to be the first to hop on! plus I missed writing for Abs — my baby, so enjoy ♡

warnings: 18+, MDNI, some fluff, gets smuttier halfway in, strap, blowjob (strap), eating you out, mentions of obsessive behaviors, polaroid nudes-ish, fingering, edging, public-sex-ishh, soft dom! Abby, tatted! Abby. Hinted at smoker Abby if you squint, petnames, fingers in mouth, masturbation, use of the word mommy, use of the word pussy, fem reader.

divider creds here

ೀ florist! Abby wears a basic white cropped t-shirt and black dickies under her beige apron. Her apron has a rainbow flag pin, with black pliers in one pocket. Doc Martins on her feet, tied miserably into a bow, it’s a miracle she doesn’t trip around the flower shop. She has a carabiner on her belt loop that jingles every time she walks. 

– apart from smelling like the flowers (obvi bc of where she works) smells like heavy pine and fresh soap, like forget the additives – just clean if ykyk

ೀ florist! Abby gets little patchwork tattoos in random places: a dainty lavender tattoo on her wrist, a little crescent moon behind her ear, paw prints on her bicep for her late dog Alice, a ‘gentle artist’ in bolded times new roman font – but dainty on her forearm. Her knuckles are tatted spelling out “FUCK YOU”.

ೀ florist! Abby that has a ‘Save the Bees!’ sticker on the back of her phone case. Super Bee activist.

ೀ florist! Abby who spends all day in the floral shop, playing music from her playlist on the shop’s aux, slightly swaying to the music as she works on a bouquet. She works with such prestige, god her hands work so quickly at building arrangements but the outcome is so beautiful and that’s why she has many customers. She definitely uses any leftover flowers as bookmarks for her books.

ೀ florist! Abby who’s aux will go from Lauryn Hill to Boy Genius to Mac Miller — she gets compliments on her music taste by customers all the time.

ೀ florist! Abby stops working on a bouquet when you walk into the store because of how confused you look. Wanting to save a damsel in distress. Abby moves from her place at the counter walking over to where you stood looking at the different types of flowers, creeping behind you. You smell divine to her, driving her head crazy knowing that your scent alone will be stuck in her head all day. The floral shop is a slow yet steady business, so Abby definitely doesn’t forget a face or a smell. The form-fitting dress you wore that day, the way your hands bunched at the fabric in confusion had her head spinning!

“Beautiful aren’t they?” Abby whispers from behind you,

Actually scares the living shit out of you when you see her standing behind you, but the way the sun was hitting her face from the big window panels made you less nervous. Rather in awe at the beauty in front of you. Her sunkissed skin, and silky blonde mane, were raveled in a delicate braid with wispies around her face. The raspiness from her voice – which honestly sounded like a smoker's voice now that you thought about it. 

ೀ florist! Abby who makes small talk with you while making your boquette for you (taking her slow sweet time), asking you where you’re from and what you’re doing in town? Absolutely praying that the flowers aren’t for some significant other of yours, Abby letting out an exhale when you say that they’re for your mom who you are visiting for dinner. When you mention you are unsure of what flowers to get don’t worry Abby will help you!

“So pretty girl, are you more minimalistic, talking Lilies, Gardenia’s, Jasmine – which is over there...or colorful? Which I think your beautiful self enjoys a nice Orchid, Camellia, or Begonia?”

Definitely shocks you with how well she knows her stuff

ೀ florist! Abby zones out when you are speaking and stares at your lips for far too long, looking at the way your pink gloss shines wondering how your pretty lips would look taking her strap. Percase covered in spit, from your saliva that has built up from blowing her off. Abby wanted to do nothing more than take the pretty little fabric ribbon from your hair and tie it around your hands as she went down on you while you beg her to touch you in all the right places – it was all a dream to her. Wet dreaming with you right in front of her.

Undeniably horny and touch deprived…she spends so much time in the floral shop she doesn’t have time for dating apps and finds shit like Tinder CORNY LOL. 

Meanwhile, you are trying your hardest not to stare at the way her arms are flexing or how her fingers are paying delicate attention to your bouquet, mentally laughing at the “FUCK YOU” on her knuckles, it contrasted her soft nature so much.

ೀ florist! Abby who slips in a little note into your tote back when you’re not looking, with her number on it, hoping that you would find it and call her soon, Which you do find when you are scrambling for your keys on your way back to the car. Deciding it wouldn’t hurt to give the overly, steaming attractive florist a call. 

ೀ florist! Abby when the two of you start dating, she would teach you how to make a bouquet, standing closely behind you – her body right up against your back as you feel her breath tickling your ear as she whispers to you what to do

“Atta girl, look at that my sweet girl – woah! watch your hand there’s a thorn baby.”

Will definitely put her hands over yours as she works with the knife to make sure there isn’t any thorns so you don’t prick yourself. 

ೀ florist! Abby fucking you in the flower shop, when the shop is closed. Having her head in between your thighs, as her jaw slacks – the sound of your juices sloshing against her mouth as she sends hums into your pussy making you let out low mewls. Bringing a hand up to cover your mouth but she slaps it away so that she can see you

“Don’t hide from me baby, I wanna see you…look at how beautiful you look whining for me doll”

ೀ florist! Abby who kept your lace underwear in her pocket after she fucked you in the floral shop keeping it for safe-keeping (pft…we all know what she is doing with that)

ೀ florist! Abby who shows you her small pocket-sized notebook full of different flowers and arrangement ideas she had. Even the sketches of a flower bouquet that she made inspired by you and all your favorite flowers.

ೀ florist! Abby definitely tucks flowers behind your ears, specifically a white or light-pink Carnation. Especially loves putting one behind your ear as she fucks you with her strap, missionary style so she can see your face – just loves your face honestly. Bending down to kiss your lips, her cheeks dusted red with the pressure she applies.

Tucking her head into your neck swiftly smelling the carnation that she put behind your ear driving her even further insane as she drills into you — makes her go faster.

ೀ When she starts teaching you more about flowers, Definitely uses sexual enforcement to get you to remember it. Will have you sat on her counter as she stands in between your legs – locking you in as she lunges two fingers into you, edging you and not letting you cum until you say the right name of the flower that she taught you. But you could hardly focus staring at her inked knuckles as they pump in and out of you which only makes you reach your climax even further. 

“You wanna come don’t you my sweet girl? I know you want to…just say the name– awh don’t whine at me…I know you know it dollface, I don’t buy that you don’t.”

Sometimes she’ll give you a hint if the flower starts with one of the letters on her knuckles she will stick the corresponding finger into you, working at getting you just about there as her finger curls into you. Your vision is blurry as you can hardly tell what the letter is, moaning out as you try to focus on the order of the letters on her knuckles to catch the hint.

“C’mon baby I’m giving you a hint…pay attention sweetheart– focus!”

ೀ florist! Abby when you get it wrong and she finally lets you come — is fake-mad at you, shoving the lettered finger down your throat as you gag on her fingers covered in your juices.

“Baby the hinted letter was C, and the other finger was U, flower: Curcuma. You’ll get it right next time right sweetheart? You won’t let mommy down hmm?”

ೀ florist! Abby is definitely a soft dom just saying… soft as hell, loves when you hold her – kiss her, and skin-to-skin contact is important as hell she just wants to feel you and loves when you baby her. 

ೀ Definitely keeps a Polaroid of you holding flowers in pink floral lingerie in her beige apron and another one of you in her wallet, that way she has you on her at all times (honestly probably touched herself to blow off some steam after a hard shift while looking at it)

ೀ Depending on how far the relationship goes, especially if y’all start talking marriage will get your favorite flower tatted and not tell you until you see a dainty tattoo of your favorite flower on her collarbone slightly above her heart as she is filling you up, you questioning her in between moans about it.

“Mmhm…fuck is that new? Shit..abbyplease – wait is that my favorite flower?” You ask, as she grinds into you – your finger dragging against the tattoo

“Yes baby, you’re all mine. Mine…mine…mine” As she pounds harder into to you each time she says mine. Obsessive, possessive + territorial, let’s talk about it 

ೀ florist! Abby is overall just a sweetheart who loves you so much and just wants you to be her pretty flower – her muse, you definitely inspire most of her bouquets and she is so happy you ran into her shop looking for flowers that day.

[ellecdc]

hi! so i was wondering if i could make a request of poly!jegulus x reader fic where the reader goes out to maybe a bachelorette party or smth and gets drunk and james and regulus takes care of her afterwards? if not then no worries! hope you have an amazing day!

thanks so much darling! I love our little Jegulus fics <3

please note: my requests are currently closed as I finish exams and work through the requests that I currently have.

poly!Jegulus x fem!reader who they pick up from a bachelorette

Regulus tried to ignore the strobe lights and the booming bass that currently accosted his senses as he pushed through the masses of sweaty bodies and drunk people “dancing” in his mission to find you.

Fortunately he needn’t search long.

Unfortunately, his and James’ appearance elicited blood curdling squealing from the bachelorette party you were currently attending.

The bride (Alice) and maid of honour (Lily) started wolf whistling at the two boys and Regulus was certain it was Marlene who started the chant “take it off!”

Much to Regulus’ chagrin and to everyone else's joy, James actually started lifting his shirt before Regulus pinched him harshly in the side.

“James Fleamont Potter, you keep your sodding clothes on!” Regulus hissed before his eyes finally landed on you.

He ignored what sounded like a petulant “I was only giving the ladies what they wanted” from James as he crouched in front of you.

Regulus tried (and failed) to control his love sick smile as your foggy gaze cleared when you realised who was suddenly situated in front of you.

“Regulus!” You cheered, your mouth hanging open in a permanent smile as if you couldn’t possibly believe he was truly here.

“And James!” James added as he sat beside you on the pleather settee and roughly pulled you into his side. 

“What are you guys doing here?” You slurred slightly as you looked lovingly between your two boyfriends. 

Regulus felt his eyebrows pinch, but James - ever the master of nonchalance - simply pressed a kiss to your hair. “You asked us to come for you, angel.” He explained plainly.

Your eyebrows pinched to match Regulus’ as you let out a quiet “oh.” 

“Well, that was ver-very smart of me.” You declared through a hiccup. 

“Yeah? Why’s that?” James asked as he rubbed your arm and Regulus confirmed that all of your belongings were safely stored within your purse.

“I was just thinking how much I, how much I would like to be home with my boys now.” You admitted in a sigh, letting your head - which seemed to weigh far too much for your neck - fall onto James’ all-too-willing shoulder.

“Awe, you’re such a sweetheart, aren’t you?” James murmured, earning him a snort from Dorcas. 

“Right, you’ve got yourself a real sweetheart there Potter - which one of you taught her how to play poker?” Dorcas sneered, causing James to bark a laugh, you to hide shyly into his shoulder, and Regulus to grin proudly.

“Did you take them for all they’re worth, amour?” He whispered as he encouraged your face from its sanctuary in James with a gentle hand on your chin.

“Of course she did.” James answered for you, blowing a cheeky raspberry over your head at your friends. “She’s an all-star.”

Dorcas laughed good naturedly as Lily rolled her eyes fondly. “That may be; but she’s officially banned from playing with us.”

“Fair enough.” Regulus admitted as he smiled at your petulant pout and helped you stand like a baby fawn in your heels. 

“How’s everyone else getting home?” James asked the other girls as he supported you with a gentle arm around your waist.

Dorcas, Marlene, and Pandora were getting a ride from Barty and Evan, and Lily, Mary, and Alice were getting picked up by Frank.

After far too many hugs and cheek kisses and what looked like the beginning of tears on Pandora’s part as Regulus finally pried you away from the group, you clumsily made your way into the back of Regulus’ waiting car with James. 

“Did you have fun tonight, sweets?” James asked as he ensured your buckle was properly clasped. 

“Oh, yes.” You declared breathlessly; as if being chaperoned to the car, basically lifted in and buckled up was exhausting work. 

The streets were quiet at this time of night and Regulus enjoyed the comfortable silence that came over the three of you as he stole sneaky glances over his shoulder, sharing soft smiles with James at having their girl back.

“What time is it?” You asked urgently; you tone and words suddenly sounding half-sober as you interrupted the serenity of the car.

“It’s almost three, amour.” Regulus answered, peaking in the rearview mirror to see you staring straight ahead and James looking at the side of your face concernedly as Regulus navigated the quiet, lamp lit streets. 

“In the morning!?” You shrilled, causing James to snort a laugh and rub at your hairline with his thumb as he rested his hand at the nape of your neck. 

“Yes, baby. In the morning; that’s usually when the party’s over, yeah?”

“Did I wake you guys up?” You asked far too shyly for Regulus’ liking.

“Of course not, amour.” Regulus responded quickly, which was followed up with a “we stayed up waiting for you” from James.

Regulus heard a disbelieving breath escape your lips, the sound of James pressing a kiss to your hair, and then nothing but the sound of the tires on the road beneath you for a few moments.

Suddenly, disturbingly, upsettingly; he heard a sniffle.

Regulus immediately took his foot off the gas as he looked at you through the mirror to find your face pointed down in your lap and James leaning forward in an attempt to see your face.

“What’s the matter, angel?”

“Do you feel okay?” Regulus asked quickly, worrying you may be sick.

“I feel fine.” You cried quietly; Regulus could just make out what looked like the fall of a fat tear from your eyes where your head was lowered.

“What are the tears for, sweetheart?” James asked again, trying to encourage you to face him which you stubbornly refused.

“Why is she crying, Jamie?” Regulus asked desperately.

He pretended he didn’t see James shoot him an unimpressed look in the rearview mirror.

“Amour?” He whispered which elicited a quiet sob from you.

Regulus - only slightly unsafely - hastily pulled onto a side street and parked the car before he moved out of his seat, opened your door and crouched beside you.

“Amour, please darling. What’s wrong?”

“Do you feel sick?” James asked, still rubbing affectionately at the nape of your neck. You quickly shook your head no.

Regulus was at least a little relieved you weren’t about to sick up on him.

“Why are you crying, mon cheri?” He whispered, moving a lock of your hair behind your ear and tracing his thumb across your cheekbone.

“You guys are so lovely.” You admitted miserably.

“Angel.” James cooed as he roughly rubbed between your shoulders as if trying to ‘shake you out of it’. “You’re crying because your boyfriends are lovely?”

“Yes.” You sobbed and hid your face in your hands.

“Okay, that’s it.” Regulus demanded as he stood and closed your door gently before walking around the car and opening up James’.

“You’re fired. Get out.” He barked simply.

James let out a disbelieving laugh and looked at Regulus strangely. 

“I beg your pardon?”

“You have our sweet girl sobbing back here.” He explained (overdramatically) as he flung a hand in your direction. “So, you’re fired; you have to drive now.”

James couldn’t help the fond grin that took over his face (the kind Regulus loved the most; the kind that resulted in two dimples instead of just the usual one) as he shook his head in exasperation and acquiesced to his new role as chauffeur. 

“Okay amour, that’s enough now, yeah? You had a good night? Lot’s of fun with the girls? And two boys who love you a lot?” Regulus cooed as he took James’ recently vacated seat.

“I know!” You cried and flung your hands into your lap. “I’m so lucky!”

Regulus made an embarrassingly gooey ‘tsking’ sound as James laughed.

“Thank you, but we’re the lucky ones, angel.”

This just caused you to cry harder.

Regulus could have killed James right then and there if he didn’t look so sodding good behind the wheel of his car.

He’d deal with him later, though; for now, he had a sweet drunk lovie to snuggle.

[queers-gambit]

Daddy Takes Care

prompt: ( requested ) in comparison, your first pregnancy was a cakewalk. this time around? not so much. good thing Daemon's there to help where he can.

pairing: Daemon Targaryen x female!reader no specified House or race

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

word count: 6.4k+

warnings: cursing, daughter named Visenya, angst 'cause pregnancy isn't all sunshine and glow and rainbows, hurt and comfort 'cause happy (but abrupt) ending, author has never been pregnant so please forgive inaccuracies, not edited.

"My Prince! My Prince! Prince Daemon!"

Daemon purposefully ignored the errand-boy, hoisting his daughter higher on his hip. "Easy, little dragon," he spoke in High Valyrian, "Caraxes is not known for his patience."

Visenya giggled, "Caraxes likes me, Daddy."

The dragon rumbled as if in agreement, blinking his eye as Visenya laid her head on his snout; half-way out of Daemon's arms, but still maintaining a vice grip. "My Prince, please," the servant pleaded, "i-it is your wife."

Daemon whipped around, Visenya being rightened in his arms when her father glared at the young man who panted from his sprinting. "What?" Daemon demanded.

"Sh-She is with the Maesters now, my Prince, and your brother, His Grace, and the Queen Alicent, too, The baby started - "

But the lad gasped when Caraxes gave a harrowing growl as Daemon charged forward; Visenya in his arms as his dragon's breath seemingly propelled his stride forward. Visenya whimpered when Caraxes stalked out of the Dragon Pit with Daemon, only stopping when he could go no further; but he thundered his displeasure and suspicion in a grumble that made the little girl wince into Daemon's chest. "It's okay, love," Daemon told her gently in their Mothers Tongue, approaching the Royal wheelhouse they used when traveling with Visenya. He spoke softly, "We're going to see Mummy, Caraxes is just worried."

"What's wrong with Mummy?" Visenya asked in the Common Speech when they boarded.

"Go! Do not stop until we get to the Keep!" Daemon barked at the coachmen before settling his daughter down. He saw the big tears swelling in his daughter's eyes and sighed, telling her softly, "I am sorry, my sweet dragon. Daddy doesn't know what's wrong with Mummy, that scares Daddy sometimes, and when Daddy's scared, he gets a little mean."

"That's okay, Daddy," she nodded at him, looking sheepish. "I get scared, too."

"It's okay to be afraid, fear is natural," Daemon told her softly, "but it's important we do not let it define us."

Her little legs swung, "Like Lord Larys."

Daemon snickered, "Oh, you naughty girl, I told you not to repeat that."

She grinned, looking far too innocent to be Daemon's spawn. "Mummy says we should be nice to Lord Larys."

"She does?"

"Mhm," Visenya nodded, "she said 'cause he knows too much."

His head cocked, "Little Dragon, has Lord Larys ever approached Mummy? Spoken to her?"

"He tries," Visenya nodded, "but Mummy walks away, she doesn't like him." The little girl lowered her voice, telling Daemon a secret, "Mummy said his breath smells like poo."

Daemon smirked, whispering back, "I know."

When they arrived at the Red Keep, the wheelhouse was barely slowed before Daemon was scooping Visenya into his arms and getting ready to disembark. When they stopped, he didn't wait for anyone to open his doors, announce his name; he just surged out, charging for where he knew the Maester's chambers were.

However, Otto Hightower was waiting for him in the foyer, greeting, "Prince Daemon, Princess Visenya."

"Hi," Visenya waved, holding onto her father's neck shyly.

"Where is she? Where's my wife?" Daemon demanded.

"Resting in your chambers, my Prince," Otto answered, not being offended when Daemon turned heel to change direction and left him in the dust.

Nobody intercepted Daemon, but it wasn't like any tried. He didn't look at anyone, they never met his eyes; but most took note of the way he all but galloped to get to his chambers. When the shoulder that wasn't holding his daughter barged through the door, he didn't slow, just demanded, "What is this? What has happened?"

"Daemon," Viserys sighed in reprimand.

"What is the matter?" He charged forward to reach the bed. "Give Daddy a second with Mummy," he told his daughter in Valyrian as he set the little girl down and took the spot beside you instantly. You had a knowing smirk on your lips, hand taken by both of his, not even blinking when he barked, "Well? What has happened!?"

"When you take a breath, we will tell you," You told him softly, squeezing his hand and smiling with closed lips. "The Maester's have only just left, you did not miss much."

He shook his head, "I should've been here none the less."

"And deprive our little dragon rider the opportunity to bond with her favorite mate?" You teased, looking to Visenya and opening your arm (after pulling yours from Daemon's clutches), "C'mere, little one. Come to Mummy."

She was careful and slow in her movements, curling up beside you; shimmying under the covers to cuddle into your side. She pet your belly, "Does it hurt?"

"No, not right now," you answered honestly, never wanting to lie to her. It would do no good in the long run, being truthful and honest were traits you can teach (not always) and you and Daemon took it very seriously.

This was a cruel world, why sugarcoat it? So your daughter would depend on some man - some man like Larys Strong? Nope. Not on your watches. She'd be the belle of the ball with the meanest right hook in the Seven Kingdoms.

"Daemon," Viserys spoke with a calm tone, earning the attention of the room, "you must know, these sort of things can happen at anytime."

"Is it The Curse? I-Is it The Curse? Does it prevail?" He asked in desperation, looking distraught.

"No," you assured, taking your only free hand to lay one of his on your swollen belly.

"No...? No?" He repeated, then scoffed, "So, why is it I was - "

"False labor," Alicent cut him off, making his jaw steel as he glared at her. "It can occur, the mind tricks the body into thinking and reacting that it's time to deliver the babe."

"But it's too soon," he pointed out, "she's still, what? Two, maybe three months left?"

"It can happen," Alicent nodded.

He frowned, glancing at his brother, then to you. "I was with the Queen when I got this terrible pain," you explained to Daemon. "There was fluid and some blood under my skirt, we thought it couldn't be right, so, she brought me to the Maesters and sent for you."

Daemon looked vaguely surprised, leaning down to press his lips to your belly. With a sigh, his forehead rested on your bump, lifting to peck another kiss, then righten his spine, asking, "And now?"

"All was clear, I was brought back here, and your brother did not wish to leave me alone - but nothing else was able to be said before you arrived," you chuckled, caressing his cheek.

"Thank you," he told Viserys, sniffling as his eyes lifted to Alicent, "both of you, truly, thank you."

"We are family," Viserys assured, "we would not want to be elsewhere."

"There's a whole Realm to - "

"Sometimes, politics can wait and family cannot," the King spoke wisely. "We are simply relieved the Lady is feeling better and all is well. The babe will stay in her womb until the end, should she remain in bed."

"Oh, Gods, Viserys," you groaned, "we agreed not to tell him that!"

"You agreed, I did not," he shot back at you.

"What do you mean, brother?"

The King answered, "She is to remain in bed until the end of her term - with natural limitations."

"Which means?"

"She may move around the room, but not much farther; she may use the privy, keep her blood circulating, but she is to remain down for most of the time as it will help keep the babe in place."

He nodded rapidly, "Of course."

"We'll let you rest," Alicent told you both softly. "I'm sure you want time with your family."

"Actually," you sighed, "might I ask for one more favor?"

"Anything, name it," Viserys agreed.

"Take Visenya for an hour? Daemon and I need to speak privately."

"Of course," Alicent nodded, stepping up to the bed. She waited as you and Daemon promised Visenya you'd be with her soon, that you needed an adult conversation, and after giving you both a kiss on the cheek, she marched off the bed to take Alicent's hand. Viserys hobbled out after them, and when the doors shut, Daemon deflated.

"Oh, Seven fucking Hells," he muttered in a muffle against your belly. He let your hands rake into his long strands of hair, pulling any knots, just soothing him with the scrape of your nails. "I was so worried," he admitted quietly, "I just - I did not think. I have feared this possibility so much, I think I tricked myself into thinking it was reality."

"What's that, my love?"

"The Curse... The Targaryen Curse."

"Daemon - "

"We were so lucky with Visenya," his tearful eyes lifted to meet yours, "and half of the pregnancy was wasted on our worry that something would go wrong. I might've created this reality."

"You did nothing," you promised. "Neither of us caused this, it's just what happens."

"But you've suffered for months," he whispered, eyes reddening by the second. "You had endless nausea, you threw up daily, my love, you developed night terrors, and you cannot say it was anything but ideal."

"Perhaps not ideal, but so perfectly us," you answered, watching him stand with a frown. "Daemon - where are you - "

"I only mean to change," he promised, already shedding his clothing and boots and weapons belt. When he joined you in bed again, he laid off your legs but beside them, head on your belly to hold and letting your hands rake through his platinum white locks again. It was quiet for minutes longer, just enjoying the other, but he whispered, "I should've been here."

"We did not know."

"Still," he frowned, kissing your bump tenderly, whispering, "I'm so sorry, I wasn't here, but do not take it out on Mummy. She's so brave," another kiss, "so very brave to take the time and give you the most perfect place to live for now. We can't take it out on her. Not Mummy, anyone else, but not Mummy."

You felt yourself dozing off, humming in contentment when Daemon took note and started a conversation with the babe - just simply detailing his day. He said there was soon to be another clutch of dragon eggs and their sister would choose the most perfect egg for them; being all Visenya's spoken of for weeks. He told the babe how excited they all were to meet them, but when he noticed you were asleep, he hated himself for getting out of bed.

It was only to pull a dressing robe on and locate his daughter; being easy as she was in Alicent's arms two halls over - both admiring the tapestries. "Daddy said this was a big fight," Visenya was heard, pointing at the drape.

"He's right," Alicent nodded, "this depicts Aegon's Conquest."

"Big dragons," she sighed dreamily, looking at the stitching. "That's Balerion, Vhagar, and Meraxes. Cousin Laena rides Vhagar now."

"Very good, sweetheart," Alicent praised.

"My Queen," Daemon called, approaching almost stiffly.

"Daddy!"

"C'mere," he grunted, accepting his daughter as she lunged for his embrace. "Thank you," he told Alicent.

"Is everything all right?"

"She's resting," Daemon nodded, trying to hide his fear from his voice but Alicent saw it in his eyes.

"The Maester's know how to help, my Prince," she assured softly. "She might fight against the limitations, but it's for everyone's health. She'll be okay, Daemon," her hand reached out to gently touch his forearm, "her body just needs time to adjust."

With her words thrumming in his mind, Daemon spent the next several weeks at your bedside. He was everything and more: he got you water, tea, anything to eat; always making sure you ate even a little SOMETHING three times a day. He made sure you took your medicine, wiped your flushed skin with cold cloths, braided your hair to keep it off your flesh. He read to you, rubbed your ankles and feet to help any circulation of clots, held your trembling form when you threw up. Daemon remained strong where you felt weak, doing whatever he could to assure you that your predicament wasn't a burden to him.

"You're not listening!"

"All I do is listen!"

"Daemon!" You snapped, "For weeks now, you've been at my every beck and call - catering to my whims. You are not canceling flying with Visenya, she'll be crushed."

"But you're closer to your birthing," He pointed out sharply.

"And I have not moved from this bed in days," you snapped back. "I will endure another day of this if it means you go take Caraxes out, I hear he's been a right menace."

Daemon shook his head, but something in his posture fell from defense. It made you sit up a little and beckon to him, his hand reaching for yours as he dropped to the place beside you; leaning against your mountain of pillows. "I do not know how to do this," he whispered, leaning his head to the crook of your neck in a vulnerable show of emotion. "And I know we are learning together, but I feel pulled apart - that I will disappoint one of you while catering to the other."

"My sweet husband," you whispered against the crown of his head. "You worry for nought."

"I worry for all," he whispered. "Visenya needs me, Viserys needs me, Caraxes needs me, the bloody White Cloaks need me, you need me - "

"Do not stress yourself further about this," you insisted. "Viserys has other advisors. Visenya has her aunts, uncles, cousins, anyone she could play with. Caraxes does need you, yes," you chuckled, "but he's also violently independent so I would not worry about him. And I am under the care of the Maesters, so I'd argue only the White Cloaks need you - you are their Lord Commander, after all."

"No," he refused, "I am a husband and father first, brother second, Prince of the City third, and Lord Commander fourth. I will be where I am needed, I just do not have enough hours in the day to do it all."

"You do not need to do it all," you whispered.

"You all need me."

"Visenya and I, yes," you agreed, "your job is important, too... Fuck the rest. 'S just noise."

He chuckled, you felt the pull of his lips on your neck. He hummed into your flesh, licking gently before pulling back to mutter, "I wish you could come with us."

"I do, too," you smiled softly. "But I'll be right here for you both to come back to - tell me all about it."

Daemon chuckled, "Surely."

Speak of the Devil, and He will appear.

"MUMMY!"

"Vizzy!" You half-scolded, laughing when the door burst open to reveal your daughter in her dragon-riding gear. Not a moment later, your usual handmaid, Carlee, appeared out of breath, sighing with relief when she located Visenya. "I'm so sorry, Carlee, she's just like her father and avoids all authority," you laughed when the little girl climbed onto her father's lap.

"No, I apologize, Lady," Carlee panted, "I-I tried - but she - she's very fast."

"I've got her," Daemon dismissed stiffly, your glare doing nothing to him.

"Thank you, Carlee, we've got it from here," you amended to the kind, portly woman with greying red hair. She bowed out as you reached over to tickle Visenya, "And you, my little monster! Didn't I tell you to stop giving the nice ladies a hard time. Hmm? Yes?"

She laughed happily, squirming in Daemon's arms. He 'saved' her by snuggling his nose in her neck; the squealing continuing as she shouted, "He's tickling me, Mummy! Mummy! Mummy! Help me, Mummy!"

"Mummy can't help you," Daemon playfully growl, gnawing into her neck as she flailed in his grip.

"Daddy! Stop it!"

He sighed dramatically, "Oh, I suppose I could... If a certain princess promises to behave from now on."

"Of course, Daddy, it's riding day!" She exclaimed, settling more in his lap now that he stopped tickling her. Because it wasn't often that Daemon took her riding, she was usually always on her best behavior to ensure her favorite day actually occurred - but that didn't mean it was an exact science.

"Visenya, be good for Daddy, yes?" You directed, puckering your lips for her. She pecked them quickly, promising to be good, and then rushing away when Daemon told her to go get her gloves and boots. When alone again, he looked at you almost sadly.

"One day, we'll fly as a family," he promised, forehead to your own. "Do you need anything, love?"

"I'm good, thank you, though," you whispered. Then, your hands caressed your belly, sighing, "Not long now, huh?"

"It's both the longest and shortest time of my life," he laughed lightly. "But soon, we'll pray for the quiet of your womb again."

You laughed, bringing him in for a kiss. He reciprocated before you pulled back, insisting, "Go, before she burns the Keep down. You know Caraxes would do it, too, that beastie would do anything she says."

"So would we," he winced.

"We might wanna work on that..."

"In time," he teased, kissing you again. "Stay put."

"Yes, sir." He gave you a look, making you amend, "Yes, Daddy."

He chuckled, kissed you a final time, and then rose. Just as he was exiting the door, you heard him yelp your daughters name before a small bang - making you think Visenya had run full sprint at him and knocked him back a step or two.

Another few days dragged by. You were agitated, you were stir crazy, you were on the shortest fuse known to man. Visenya liked reading to you, working on her writing skills with you in bed; she even got to practice her hair braiding skills. When you snapped at servants and maids, Visenya was always chiding, "Mummy, that's mean."

She kept you level-headed.

Daemon was a wreck, however.

He was only one person and the fact that he needed to be several was far too stressful than he was ever willing to admit. "Daemon, my love," you called sternly, "stop your pacing and come here. Lay with me, please."

"I do not get that luxury - "

"It is not a luxury to nurture your seed in my body," you deflected. "Now, come here. Now."

Daemon glared, "Do not think you command me, woman."

"The vows we took certainly think I do. Armor off, boots off, hair down, get the fuck over here - now, Daemon."

He sighed and grumbled, grunting as he did what you told but made it known he wasn't happy about it. When he was dressed in nothing but linen trousers, he laid beside you. "Now what?" He snapped.

"Now hold your wife and child and just fucking breathe," you shot back, readjusting so you cuddled into him. "You reek tonight."

"Your list of demands did not include bathing, excuse me, Princess," he sneered in a condescending tone.

"Daemon, I just want you to take a pause," you bit. "You've been runnin' 'round with your head chopped off since finding out about this... This complication."

"I have much to do."

"I know, and that is why it's important to just slow down and simply breathe. Please, just breathe with me, Daemon, I need us both to be as okay as we can be for when this babe finally comes."

"There's no time - "

"We make our time,' you insisted. "Please, just pause."

He did, Daemon actually paused to just take a deep breath. After one, he took another... Then another, and another until he was doing it with ease and confidence. "I'm sorry," he whispered against your forehead, bringing you in closer. "I do not mean to take it out on you, pet, I am just... Well, you know."

"I know you're worried," you sighed. "Which is why we need this. Tell me of your day, today?"

Daemon didn't want to at first, but then relented and started on a snowball tangent that explained his foul mood. You listened, ear pressed to his pectoral; hands tracing absent patterns on the contours of his abdomen. Daemon usually tried his best to restrain himself with you, but you actively encouraged him and the more he talked, the more words that spewed from his mouth in a messy jumble. One arm remained wrapped around you, keeping you close, and his free one moved about in exaggeration.

"And to top the day off, you know what the bloody Septa told me? The one Alicent insisted was worth utilizing?"

"Septa Amelia?"

"Whatever," he huffed.

"What'd she say to you, my Prince?"

He sighed at the endearing tone you used for his title, knowing it wasn't a reference to his real station but instead, a pet name you had for him. Daemon sighed, "That Visenya might need shipped off to Dorne to attend that grueling, military school."

"She's only just turned five - "

"I am aware," Daemon cut you off. "I cursed at her before taking Visenya."

"Good, then I shall know who to yell at, too," your voice hardened. "Why do they complain about her so? 'S all I bloody hear, how our daughter's wild and untamed - saying we are unfit parents by the looks of her."

"She's fire in her blood because she is the Dragon's Seed, just as this one is, too," His hand laid over your belly. "And yet, I cannot understand why others voice their opinions on our family, which they are not entitled to an opinion on. Visenya grows within the Red Keep, she is not some wild animal, but perhaps, she lacks stimuli."

"How could we remedy that?"

"A tutor... Or a few, perhaps. From across the Narrow Sea," he told you, already sounding like he wasn't as angry as before. "Find us proper tutors who will take her on as a student to guide her where we cannot - and where others give up. What kind of a man would I be to ignore what someone blatantly needs that I can easily provide?"

You offered a small smirk, taking a fond note, "This isn't just 'someone', Daemon, you speak of our daughter. You're so good at this, you know... Taking care of us. Daddy takes care."

He tightened his hold, "I always will, my sweet."

It was quiet again, your stomach churning with discomfort; questioning, "Though I am wondering what she did today to prompt such a comment?"

He scoffed, "So, she set fire to some curtains, who bloody cares - "

You gasped shrilly as you sat bolt upright, "Visenya did what!?"

"No, hey, no," he reached for you, "no stress, no - "

But you were hobbling out of the bed before he could stop you, grumbling the entire time; yet the moment your feet hit the floor, you paused to heave for breath, stood, and felt the trickle of fluids from between your legs. "What?" You gasped, realizing what just happened, begging, "What? No, no, no, no, not now, little one, please, stay in there!"

Daemon vaulted himself over the bed and was at your side in an instant, guiding you to sit once more and promising, "I will get the Maesters. Just ease yourself, no stress, no worries, I'll get help - I'll get the Maester's." He meant to move away.

"No," you insisted, reaching for his tunic's collar to grip, yank, and hold him close, "I need you with me. We all do, please, do not leave me to do this life alone. D-Daemon, please, I'm so scared, do not leave me, I can't do this without you."

"I'm not going anywhere," he promised, taking your hand to hold, "but I need to get you help. Please, my love, you need the help."

You whimpered and got back on the bed by yourself as Daemon raced for the chamber door. He only took half a step, then shouted, "YOU! HEY, YOU! GET THE BLOODY MAESTERS! NOW! YOUR PRINCE DEMANDS IT!"

Ignoring whatever else he shouted, you got comfortable as the cramps began to twist in your lower gut - shooting pains down your legs, up your back, even tingling into your fingers. Sweat took hold of you like a bad fever, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew something couldn't be completely right. This sensation was strange, it wasn't at all a feeling you had when pregnant with Visenya.

Hours drug by as if sap dripping from a tree.

Your pain increased; sweating, grunting, moaning, groaning with displeasure. Daemon was stoic and quiet, just watching you writhe in pain as his heart cemented in his chest to sink into his feet and anchor him there. Visenya wasn't anything like this; he'd been present for that birth, too, and remember thinking how easy it appeared since the baby practically fell out of you.

This was much different.

"My Prince," the Maester approached him with a deep frown, "a word?"

"What?" He snapped, watching the Maester step to the side. Daemon sighed and followed, glaring, arms crossing as he demanded, "What is it?"

"My Prince, the babe will not come. I do not wish to beat around this bush, so I will tell you plainly. Sometimes, when the fetus is in a compromising position, a decision must be made: either the babe is cut from the womb and it survives or they both die or only the babe dies - there was a way to remove the baby surgically if that's the case. But you need to choose."

"Why do I have to choose? It's her decision - her body, her life, her choice."

"She is delirious with pain," the Maester deflected, "and if the babe is a boy, wouldn't you rather know and have him?"

"And lose my wife?" Daemon growled. "I think the fuck not. You will not put this decision on me, it is for her to decide."

He pushed past everyone to take the spot beside you and instantly pick up your hand. "Daemon," you sobbed, "for fuck's sake, please, please, just let this be over. Get the babe out."

"You're almost there, sweetheart."

But one of the Septas assisting the Maesters squeaked in mild alarm, and when Daemon looked, there was a significant amount of blood blooming under you. "She's bleeding, could be a hemorrhage," the Maester rushed, lifting your thin gown to judge the birthing canal.

"What's wrong?" You asked in a half-slur.

"Nothing, you're okay," Daemon assured softly, kissing your hand.

Your screams through labor echoed through empty stone halls. Your pain was tangible, your fear paramount. "What's wrong!?" You begged the room, "Why aren't they coming? Why won't our baby come?"

"We're trying, Princess," A Septa spoke softly.

You only cried until your exhaustion outweighed your consciousness; your mind going blank, eyes rolling back, and slipping into the weighted darkness from the blood loss. Daemon frantically shook your shoulder, begging, "My love, please! Wake up! Wake up now! What's going on!?"

"There's too much blood!"

"I told you to choose!" The Maester snapped at Daemon. "Now they will both lose their lives!"

Daemon felt his chest hallow - figuring the words were true enough. He couldn't decide, he refused to, and now you suffered and the possibility of losing your child was larger than before. "My Prince," a Septa approached, "you need to wait outside."

"No - "

"They need to operate, you cannot linger here," she insisted. "You will be called for."

He steeled his jaw, pointing a warning finger at the Maester, "Don't make the cut else your loved ones will only see you on a spike around the Red Keep."

Prince Daemon waited outside for another few hours. He paced, he refused food and drink, he simply wanted to be in there with you but had to begrudgingly put faith into the medical team working on you. He smirked when he saw his daughter, Visenya, round the distant corner and sprint up to him - Carlee chasing her.

"Are you skipping lessons, again, Little Dragon?" Daemon grunted as he caught his daughter - swinging her onto his hip by using the momentum from catching her.

"Where's Mummy and the baby?" She demanded.

Daemon sighed, "The baby doesn't want to come out, yet, love, so we can't see them yet."

"But it's been a day, Daddy!" She whined.

"I know, pet," he sighed with a frown, glancing at the closed door. "It's all right," he told the maid, "she can remain here with us."

"My Prince, she'd miss - "

"Lessons? You dare try to say lessons are more important?" He snapped.

"Daemon," Viserys frowned from his wheelchair. "Your anger is misplaced."

He hummed, readjusting his daughter on his hip as Alicent dismissed Carlee; letting Daemon begin to pace again. When the door opened, he whipped around, but only an in-training Maester slipped out of the room - giving no time to peer inside. "Well?" Daemon demanded.

"We are still working, My Prince, but I am to fetch more material," he answered, nodding once, then dashing away. It did nothing to settle his nerves, in fact, they tripled when the lad returned with a procession of aids - all carrying different material. They reentered the room, and Daemon felt his heart snap.

"Stay with Uncle, Little Dragon," Daemon told his daughter, approaching Viserys, offering him the child to which he accepted. "Stay here, do not move, Daddy has to check on Mummy. Yes?"

"Is she sick?" Visenya frowned.

"I'll check, my love."

"I can go, too, Daddy."

Daemon sighed through his nose, his daughter making him melt into a pile of nothingness - but reminded himself to stay firm. "No, love, you just stay here and Daddy will check," he assured softly as Viserys lifted his hands to keep hold of the young girl and ensuring she did not follow Daemon when he nodded, turned, and shoved through the door into the birthing chamber.

"My Prince!"

But Daemon couldn't move.

There was blood everywhere. Soiled linens, a drenched nightgown, scattered puddles of splattered life source across the floor. You looked delirious, confused; not fully present in your mind, and when he noted the Milk of the Poppy, he understood your pain was trying to be managed. Blood painted up and down your thighs; blood pooling under your cunt, but there was a baby's head visible.

Startled, he rushed for your side and knelt to take your hand. "My love," he breathed, "can you hear me? Are you with me? Please. Please, sweet wife, open your eyes and look at me."

When you did, he could tell you were unfocused and unsure who he was before realization dawned over your facial expression. "Daemon," you whispered, squeezing his hand slightly.

"I'm here, love," he promised. "Right here - I'm with you."

"The baby?"

"Almost," he promised, watching your eyes flutter.

"She needs to push, my Prince," the birthing maester instructed. "C'mon, c'mon, now's the time - push! Push, Princess, push!"

"C'mon, love!" Daemon encouraged, watching sweat glisten over every exposed surface of skin; jaw clenching, bearing down and pushing with might.

The screams echoed through the Keep, only drowned out when a storm rolled in that evening. The thunder masked the profanities shouted, lightning accompanied by each scream of pain as birth split you in half. Daemon did not leave your side, encouraging you through the entire ordeal, his trousers saturating with your blood as more dripped to the floor as you pushed, pushed, pushed, and pushed with all the strength you had.

"You gotta keep goin', love," Daemon would tell you, "gotta keep fightin' for this - don't stop now. I need you with us, our children will need us, this is not something I can do alone. Please," he begged, "do not make me say goodbye. Not until we're fat and old, remember? Huh? My precious love, you're almost done, but you have to keep fighting. It'll be worth it, soon. Just keep going!"

By the following morning, a babe was being pulled from your cunt with a gushing wave of fluid and blood - reminding the Maester very briefly of cattle birth. However, while relief colored your system, the medical attendants felt panic flood theirs - muttering, hushing, consulting the baby to the side as the Maester saw you through the afterbirth. "W-Wait," you slurred, "wh-where are they? Where? Daemon, wh-what is it? Girl or boy?"

He frowned, Septas, Silent Sisters, and other maids all huddled together without your child in sight. "I-I do not know, yet, sweetheart, but remain calm. The worst is over..." But when he looked down at you, he noticed how still you laid and felt his panic skyrocket. He begged your name several times, demanding you wake up, but you remained silent and still - skin even turning clammy as sweat dried. Daemon was actually pulled out of the way, two Maesters attending to your side, and he felt impossibly in the middle.

To his left, his child. To his right, his wife. Both of whom appear in distress, both of whom hold his worry. "She's clots again," he heard from the Maesters. "Not breathing," he heard from the Septas.

So, this is what Hell was like...

A shrill cry pierced the air, adrenaline draining from Daemon's blood as he realized this only meant the babe was okay. When he was approached with the bundle, he worried, "She should be the first to hold them."

"It's all right, my Prince," the Septa spoke softly, "you may hold her now, and later, you can lay her on your wife's chest."

Daemon nodded, taking the baby. He blinked, "Did you say, 'she'?"

"A girl, my Prince, healthy, strong, full-term."

"What's wrong with her?" He demanded. "Why does my wife not wake?"

"The blood loss," a Maester muttered, "'s gotta be the blood loss."

He couldn't move or breathe. His daughter screamed, still, but he was terrified by the sight of the Maesters flocking over your still-body. Daemon protested, but once more, he was asked to leave the chamber and had to be escorted - but he wanted to remain. He wanted to linger, to watch you, to ensure you were taken care of... Yet the bundle in his arms wriggled and sobbed, reminding him that he had a responsibility to his daughter that needed his attention.

"Daemon," Alicent perked up when the door opened, eyes widening at the sight of the Targaryen swaddle.

"Brother?" Viserys worried, eyes glistening as he assumed the worst.

"She's... She's not waking up," He spoke without emotion, "the Maesters are still working."

Viserys nodded, holding a sleeping Visenya on his lap still. "You need rest," he recommended.

"No, I think I will stay," Daemon refused.

"You can't function this way," Alicent tacked on. "The Maesters will still be at work, and even after, she will not be awake for hours. Milk of the Poppy is potent, and with her exhaustion, it's sure to be an intense combination."

He nodded slowly, "I want to be here."

So, Daemon remained.

He let Visenya sit with him on the stone bench outside the birthing chamber; his brother remaining to offer moral support alongside his wife until royal obligation can calling. He remained stoic, holding his daughter and only passing her off to the wet nurse when a feeding or cleaning needed attended to. He wasn't sure how much time had passed, but when the doors opened, Daemon shot to his feet; leaving his infant daughter in Visenya's lap.

"She's asking for you," the Maester told Daemon, smirking slightly when the Prince charged for the room. He looked around at the disarray and how dwarfed you appeared in the bed; sheets still saturated with blood.

Never before had he felt such relief, dropping to his knees as if in prayer at your bedside; tearfully picking up your hand to kiss the back of it. "You're alive," he whispered in shock, "oh, bless the Seven, you're alive - you're still here with me. With us."

You could only manage a tired, half-smile, "Can't be rid of me that easy."

He snorted his amusement, "Thought I lost you for a moment there..."

"Sorry to scare you," you whispered, "but 's not easy pushing a baby from your cunt, huh?"

"No, definitely not. Especially a Targaryen, born of Fire and Blood," he looked close to tears, "they are known for their harsh entrance into this world."

"I'd endure all of it for our children," you mumbled, taking a long breath. "I'm tired, Daemon."

He looked to a lingering Maester, the one in training, asking, "Can she move back to our chambers?"

"She might not want to walk, yet," the lad advised, "but yes. Perhaps a familiar environment will help the healing process."

Daemon had a Maester carrying his infant daughter and escort Visenya to your living quarters while he brought you. He laid you in bed, ensuring your comfort before taking his daughter back in his arms, dismissing the staff, and telling Visenya to change into her loungewear. They were going to take a nap with Mummy...

"Daemon?" You mumbled.

"I'm here, love," he rushed to your side, "you all right? What do you need?"

"It's hurting," you frowned.

Daemon laid your daughter beside you in bed, furthest into the mattress, so he could prepare your next dose of Milk of the Poppy. Visenya, changed for the lazy day, jumped into bed with you, smiling at her new sister as Daemon changed himself. When he joined you in bed, he kept the baby between the two of you as Visenya deflated on Daemon's chest. She all but instantly fell asleep, both parents allowing for several long minutes to pass; ensuring their slumbering state.

"Did you pick a name?" You asked, tracing your fingertip along your baby's belly in soft, ticklish motions.

"Not yet," he answered. "Thought that should be a decision we agree on."

"I have no preference," you told him softly, "I'm just relieved she's here."

"You and me both," he whispered, leaning over to kiss your forehead. "You did such a good job, sweetheart, to endure this Targaryen Curse for our family - such a good job."

You smiled at him, catching his lips in a full kiss as the poppy released into your bloodstream. "I love you," you promised him.

"I love you," he echoed; the serenity surrounding you both in a warm embrace. Unable to help himself, Daemon teased, "So, when do you want our third child?"

You both had to suppress your humor to protect your sleeping daughters from being rudely woken.

requesting rules and masterlist

HOTD masterlist

[xetswan]

IMAGINES- Jasper x reader

My Star

(This was requested months ago and I’m so sorry I’m just now putting this out 😭)

Twilight Masterlist

In which Jasper lost his “Star” before turning into a vampire and years later spots her with his new vegetarian family.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Carlisle asked Jasper whose eyes were widened already trying to control his thirst around all the humans.

He nodded his head.

Edward and Emmett stood on either side of him.

“If it gets too much let one of us know.” Alice stood in front of Jasper with a sweet smile on her face.

The family thought Alice and Jasper would end up together due to how much he trusted her but Alice knew she wasn’t the one for him.

He mourned for his lover before them.

Before turning.

She knew that was the only woman for him.

And he was glad she understand, not having to speak on it. The pain was too much for him to bare so he kept silent about it.

“Yes, ma’am.” He smiles down at the girl, his hands laid behind him, clasped together.

“Alright, you got this.” She nods at him, getting out of their way and the three men enter together. The rest of the family behind them.

As they entered the loud building the energy switched.

Jasper focused on the music that played, watching the girls that kicked their feet and played with the bottoms of their dresses as they danced.

The men that encourage them, cheering them on.

He scanned the room, observing.

“I want to dance.” Rosalie stated behind them.

“Let’s dance then baby!” Emmett boomed.

Edward furrowed his brows trying to remind them of why they were here.

Alice placed a hand on his shoulder. “Let them have fun.” She nods her head to assure him.

Edward makes eye contact with Carlisle who also allows it, taking Esme’s hand and taking her to dance.

He scoffs, staying sternly next to Jasper.

Jasper still scanned the room, not paying attention to his new family. Alice joined Jasper’s other side and took his hand.

“Want to try to dance too?” She had a lot of hope and confidence in him.

Something he could say the same for.

The blood burning his nose as he tried his hardest to hold it in.

“I don’t know, honestly.” He answers her, his nose flaring but he tries to hold it in.

“You got this, trust me.” She pulls him onto the dance floor as well.

Alice begins to twist her hips, following the rhythm of the music.

“C’mon!” She encourages, now kicking her feet and moving his arms for him.

“I don’t know how to dance.” He begins to smile.

“Just follow my lead.” She gets more into and he finally follows suit, the burning in his nose still there but she distracts him from it.

Edward still stood there, solemnly.

Watching Jasper’s every move, making sure he doesn’t get caught up and switch like a light.

As Jasper dances, he glances around again.

A shine of a light flashes on a man and he stares at the guy for a little bit before moving alone onto the next thing.

This time his eyes spot a lady.

A lady who looks oddly familiar.

Her hair bouncing as she dances and laughs.

Time freezes for him. Alice notices his change in posture. His moves slow down.

“Jasper?” She turns to see what he’s looking at. Edward comes up to them, pulling them off the dance floor.

“What happened?” Edward aggressively questions.

“I- I don’t know.” Alice stammers, Jasper’s eyes don’t leave the girl he saw.

“Jasper, what’s going on?” Edward grabs onto the mans shoulders.

“I see her.” Is all that leaves his lips.

“See who?” Alice asks, gently pushing Edward out of the way.

“My star.” He whispers, shoving past Alice and Edward, the girl left the dance floor and to the bar.

He stays feet away but watch her every movement just like Edward was doing to him.

But for him, he was trying to see if it’s true.

If it’s his star. As she got her drink, Edward grabs onto him once again.

“Jasper, you can’t do that.” Glaring at the man who doesn’t seem to be there. Not paying attention to his “brother.”

She’s on the move once again, a man beside her this time. She’s flirting with him and Jasper feels a pang in his chest.

She laugh and he hears it for a split second. That’s how he knew, it’s her.

It’s his star.

She grabs onto the man’s shirt that she’s flirting with and guides him outside into the back of the building. Jasper realizes he needs to get Edward off of his back.

He looks around trying to find something to do so. Alice watches Jasper’s movements and then she gets a vision.

Holding onto the wall once it’s over.

She grins and goes over to Edward.

“Eddie!” She laughs vibrantly, grabbing onto the boy and spinning him around. “Please dance with me!” She then spins herself with his hand. “Alice, now’s not the time.”

“When ever is there a time, Edward.” She pouts, then glances at Jasper and widens her eyes, telling him to go as she distracts the boy.

He mouths a “thank you” before rushing off. Following who he believes is his lover.

He exits the building, now being quiet.

He looks around for her. Not spotting her as the wind blows in the air. The moon shining down on him and the body of water ahead.

He takes a few steps out, he hears some noises of a man whimpering, gargling his own blood.

The blood smell fills Jasper’s nostrils.

He feels enticed by it, his body moving slowly towards the dying body feet away from him. It’s the man that she came out with.

It’s the same man from before.

And before he can get any closer his body flies to the ground with a thud. Someone pinning him down. “Who are you?” A voice questions, shoving him further into the ground.

The lady not getting a look at him.

He grunts, trying to fight her off. Slowly he stops fighting, trying to get a good look at her face.

“My star.” He huffs out, his hands laid next to him and her strength weakens on him. Pulling her hands back.

“Jasper?” Her voice breaks, this time he flips them over and pins her down. Not harshly.

She laughs loudly.

“My Jasper!” She squeals, not able to do anything but she kicks her feet to the ground as he stares down at her with a grin.

“[Name], I thought you were dead.” He tells her, observing every feature upon her face.

“I thought you were dead.” She lifts her head up to tell him. He lets her arms go but still straddles her waist, slightly hovering above her though.

“You’re one of them too?” He notices the blood that drips from her mouth.

“I was turned after you left, they invaded our home.” She informs him, leaning up on her elbows. He closes his eyes, shaking his head.

“I should’ve been with you.” He mentally beats himself up.

���Hey! Who’s back here?!” A voice shouts and the two scramble up. Jasper grabs her hand, yanking her away from the scene. They hide behind a vehicle as a sheriff flashes a light around the area they were just at.

He finds the body and gasps. [Name] giggles to herself, watching from the window of the car.

She looks down at Jasper with a smile, gripping his hand and she guides him to the lake in a fast movement.

“You eat humans?” He suddenly asks her. She furrows her brows. “What else would I eat, darling?” She bends down, cleaning the blood off of her face. Luckily none of it got onto her dress.

“Animals.” He responds in a quiet tone.

“Your family’s one of the vegetarians?” She sat on her knees but turned her body to his direction.

“Your’s isn’t?” He tilts his head.

“I don’t have one. I’ve been alone since they killed everyone in our village.” She hums, playing with the water.

“Everyone?” He repeats.

She then realizes how insensitive she sounds, that was his family too. “The Volturi, since everyone grew in havoc they deemed us dead. No hope for any of us to be civil enough to live out in the world.” She thinks back to her memories of when it all happened, the fire.

“I escaped without anyone realizing. I’ve been on the run for a while.” She stands up.

“Before the village was turned they told me you died. I had no reason of living. But then I was turned and I couldn’t even kill myself. It was tragic.” She places a hand on his cheek, rubbing it gently.

“Did you ever return home?” She goes to take her hand back but he grabs it, keeping it on his face. Cradling her hand.

“No, she told me you were dead and I couldn’t bare to see your name on a grave.” He spoke softly.

“She?” She furrows her brows.

“Maria. She turned me. Made me her personal soldier after she told me you were dead.” He closes his eyes trying to fight back the memory of him falling to his knees when he found out his star was dead.

“I’ll kill her.” Venom laces in [Name]’s voice but Jasper chuckles.

“She’s dead, my Star.” He shakes his head.

“Good, she’ll never experience my torture.” She half-jokes. Knowing there’s some truth to it.

“Never leave my side again.” He kisses her hand, pulling her into his arms.

“Never again.” She agrees, laying her head on his chest. It was cut off by yelling.

“Jasper!” His siblings were looking for him, he grabbed [Name], holding her close to him as the family found the man.

“Who is this?” Rosalie was the first to question. Esme held Carlisle’s hand. Alice clapped her hands.

“It’s her!” She grinned. Jasper gave the shorter girl an earnest smile.

“Her?” Rosalie gave a dirty look, still confused. “It’s [Name], his passed lover.” Carlisle announces.

Edward then lets it all hit him.

That’s why he was acting weird in the building. Relief also hits him when he doesn’t see blood all over him. Just a little on the girl next to him.

[themotherofhorses]

Does handmain!reader braid Aemond's hair? Does Aemond know how to braid his children's hair? PLS THE FLUFFFF

pairing: aemond targaryen x handmaid!reader

notes: DAD!AEMOND DAD!AEMOND DAD!AEMOND

his handmaid's tales | main masterlist

Three hours after sundown, his mother arrives at his doorway, carrying a reading lamp and two books of faith. “Would you like to sit and pray with me tonight, Aemond?” Alicent asks, but her voice soon trails off when she notices the hairbrush clutched in his hand and the twins at his knees. Both boys toy around with their tiny wooden stick swords, offering their grandmother two toothy little smiles.

“Oh, I see that you’re quite busy tonight…” she then adds, in a tone faint with teasing.

Aemond nods where he sits, gently combing out any tangles and snags in his son’s silver-pale hair. “Their mother easily puts me to shame, as she does with most things…” he mumbles, glancing sidelong at his other son, whose own shines like moonglow in a loose braid, “-but I do believe I’ve done a rather fine job with my boys.”   

Alicent hums. “Where might she be tonight? Did you dismiss her?”

Aemond gestures to his bed, where his handmaid lays fast asleep, cuddling around a pillow. As she slept, she had kicked off the blanket and sheets, and the pretty curve of her swollen belly limned in the soft glow from the hearth.

“The babe’s been stealing away most of her energy these past few days,” he tells Alicent, shaking his head. His fingers part the hair into three splits before looping the first over the second and tugging the third into the middle. “The maesters say the name day is nearing, perhaps in another fortnight.”

He refused any looks at his girl; otherwise, he’d drink in the lovely sight a bit too much like a drunken fool, and he’d prefer his mother not bearing witness to such.

Yet Alicent studies the sleeping handmaid, a shadow of a smile flickering across her lips. This time around, she had grown great with a girl, according to the maesters and midwives alike, as well as Aemond himself. He had pined so much for a daughter of his own, frequenting the sept alongside her, to sink onto his knees and pray to the Mother for a baby girl, one blessed with her mother’s features.

She hopes her son receives his daughter. He deserves it that much.

“Would you like for me to tuck in the boys for the night?”

Aemond smiles. “Ah, if it would be no bother to you, mother. I’d appreciate it…I don’t wish to leave her, not when she’s like this…” but Alicent waves him away, kneeling before the boys. “I’ll have them choose a bedtime story, and they can tell me all about their day.” So he kisses his sons on the nose and forehead before whispering a fond goodnight, sending them away with their grandmother.

And as they leave, hand in hand with Alicent, their little braids bounce with every step. The sight gives him nothing but joy and pride.

The fire in the hearth was quickly burning down to embers, and he hadn’t intended to disturb his resting girl, but he couldn’t stop himself from climbing over her. Sweeter than lemon cakes and more beautiful than all the seasons. He rubs at her bump, where hopefully his daughter sleeps too, and kisses her bare shoulder- then her cheeks and lips- and kisses her again when she murmurs in her sleep.

“You’re all I’ll ever need and more,” he breathes, nestling his head against her breast. I love you. I love you. I love you.

At that, her eyes open, and she smiles, stroking his hair. “Tomorrow, I shall braid it,” she whispers.

But Aemond snatches her hand and lifts it to his lips. “No. I’ll braid your hair, my sweet girl,” he promises, kissing each of her fingers, nipping at the skin, “I need the practice anyways.”

tag list for "his handmaid's tales": @aemondsblog @dc-marvel-girl96 @neobanguniverse @missalycat21 @enchantingcupcakecollectionfan @padfooteyes @alexizodd @avidreader73 @the-common-cowgirl @inlovewithhisblueeyes

[shadowhearts-ponytail]

christmas with abby anderson!

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist ˚୨୧⋆｡˚⋆

a/n: I love winter so so much! and I love abby, so here you go!

warnings: this is just fluffy Christmas activities. there is a bit of a suggestive joke. but nothing too bad. let me know if I missed anything!

words: 1,066

abby is a Christmas girly. for sure. she loves Christmas. it is the most wonderful time of the year for her. by far. her favorite holiday. she goes all out.

abby has one of those mistletoe hats. the ones that hang mistletoe over you and another person. she wears it all the time as an excuse to pull you into a kiss. her hands on your hips as she leans down to plant a long kiss on your lips.

she has mistletoe all over your shared apartment. for extra kisses. in every single doorway. she keeps some mistletoe in her pockets to pull it out when you both are out so she can hold it over your head and pout for a kiss.

making Christmas cookies. she's a sugar cookie girl. simple. easy to make. plus, she likes decorating them with frosting after but will complain that the frosting "makes them overly sweet" when she's the one that drenched it in red and green icing and snowflake sprinkles.

she always makes cookies to give to her dad. she always makes him a big tin full of different kinds. chocolate chip, sugar cookies, oatmeal cookies, snickerdoodles, gingerbread men.

she's actually quite a skilled baker. old family recipes she knows by heart. muscle memory usually kicks in when she kneads the dough. she hums when she bakes. while she waits for the oven, she'll do a little dance if she thinks you aren't looking.

she makes fresh bread and cakes and so many sweets around the holidays. she's not one to eat sweets, but she loves making them for friends or family.

she makes enough to feed a damn army of 5,000 gren men and then sends them with you to work for your coworkers or to your family.

"no, baby. you know I hate cookies and cake. just give it to your family. or I'm sure your boss would love 200 cookies, right?"

"sure, abs. sure. whatever you say." you playfully roll your eyes at your girlfriend as she has once again gone overboard with the Christmas cookies, just like last year and the year before that. it's tradition at this point.

getting custom Christmas stockings with your names on them. the stockings mean a lot to her. getting to fill your stocking with little gifts, candies, and love notes would bring the purest smile to her face. and seeing her stocking next to yours. she loves seeing it. she's always wanted that. wanted someone to make her a stocking with her name on it.

she would get alice one and put it next to both of yours. full it with dog treats and chew toys. she says it makes you three a family.

abby buys alice a new collar every year and gets those doggy Christmas sweaters. she gets alice bones to chew on and toys and clothes to wear. that dog is spoiled rotten.

abby would want to take "family photos" with you and alice. she has alice wear one of the shirts in the photos.

she like hires a photographer, and everything. you go out to some field or somewhere nice to take professional pictures. she hangs them in your apartment and makes a Christmas card with them to send to both her family and yours from "The Anderson Family."

"I hope it's okay I used my last name. I'm sure you'll end up taking it anyway."

when she says this, you about choke on your water. "i-" cough, cough, "Yeah, that's fine, baby. I'm sure you're right." you tease with a little wink.

abby gets you small gifts every day of December up until Christmas. a small bouquet of flowers, a little handwritten note, candies. simple things. she sees it as an extra excuse to spoil you. not that she ever needs one. but she's just a sappy romantic like that.

she always wants to come home to you as soon as she gets off work to cuddle up and watch some Christmas movies, and warm up the apartment by cooking you dinner or baking.

abby probably isn't one of those people who's crazy particular about the ornaments on the tree. like they don't have to be all the same colors and shit. she would like handmade ones more. ones that were passed down in the family. sentimental ones.

she always puts the same star on the tree every year. one her dad got her as a gift. it'd very important to her. she packs it in a metal box wrapped in bubble wrap and blankets to keep it safe.

but she refuses to get on the ladder and out it on the tree. she's too scared of heights. she won't get further than the first step on the ladder.

"abby, cmon. just put the star on the tree. I'll get the ladder."

"No! I can't. what if I fall and break my neck?" she asks with puppy eyes and a big pout.

"abs are you serious? the chances of that are, like, zero!" you argue back to the muscled woman before you, "besides you're taller than me."

instead of arguing back, she picks you up in her massive arms and hoists you to sit on her shoulder.

"abby!"

"there. now you're taller. now you have to do it"

she wears boxers with Christmas prints on them. snowmen, reindeer, santa, snowflakes.

you guys are bickering about something meaningless, and to lighten the mood, she just unbutton her pants and push them down to her knees to reveal boxers with a mistletoe print on them then yell, "kiss it then!"

you can't help but burst into laughter and clutch your stomach as you double over in a fit of laughter.

abby looks at you with a cheeky grin, "still mad at me, baby?"

abby is a fanatic about Christmas lights. she likes going to the park closer to Christmas to see all the lights at night. she'd be so excited. begging to go every night until they take them down.

she brings you to the annual anderson family dinner. the first time she brought you, she was so excited, but you were so nervous.

she was practically bouncing with joy when her dad brought you into a tight hug the moment he met you. he immediately started to talk your ear off. making you feel welcome.

you are definitely invited to next year's dinner.

a/n: feedback is always welcome!

[kiiwiigii]

Table Sex

Emmett x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Emmett make the most of your alone time... unfortunately for Esme's table.

Warnings:

NSFW 18+

Smut

Cuteness

Word Count: 1.7k+

Requested?: For Kinktober!

Playful and happy table sex with Emmet like it'd be so sweet but also definitely result in a broke table 🤣

A/N: That poor, poor table.

I gave a small shriek as I did my best to out maneuver Emmett, which considering how big and burly he was, wasn't all that hard. However, he did have the advantage of speed, which I sorely lacked. I was only human after all. It wasn't long before I felt his giant hands catch me around the middle, swinging me around in a backwards bear hug.

"Okay! Okay! I give!" I giggled.

He twisted me around, lifting me up by my bum as I wrapped my legs around his waist and draped my arms around his neck.

"I told you that you couldn't escape from me." He grinned up at me, nudging my chin with his nose. "Now, what's my prize."

He gave my buns a little squeeze and I wriggled and gasped, pretending to be scandalized.

"Why Mr. Cullen! What makes you think you win anything?"

"Ooh, Mr. Cullen. I like the sound of that." He wriggled his eyebrows at me, to which I just rolled my eyes.

"You know what I like the sound of? Freedom. Now put me down, you heathen."

"Not till you tell me what my prize is."

I looked into his golden eyes, doing my best not to become mesmerized, a battle I was quickly loosing.

"Me." I sniffed, looking away rather snootily and trying not to smile. "What else would you need?"

"Perfect."

He was practically purring and my heart leaped a little in my chest. That purr usually signaled some rather… intimate activities and I looked back at Emmett with narrowed eyes.

"Emmett." I warned.

"Yes?" He replied innocently as he began to walk toward the dining room.

"What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that everyone else is out hunting for the weekend." He began. "And I have my beautiful girl all to myself. Completely alone."

Emmett sat me down on the dining room table, keeping himself wedged between my legs as he wove his hands into my hair and tilted my head back to kiss me. I giggled, letting my hands drop down from his neck to grasp at his shirt. Which I would very much like to see gone. As if reading my mind, Emmett broke the kiss and leaned back for a moment, swiftly removing his shirt. I barely had time to admire his muscled torso before he swooped back in and kissed me again.

His cool tongue swept across my bottom lip before delving into the heat of my mouth, and I couldn't help the moan that bubbled up from inside me. I could feel him grin against my lips, giving me a playful nip. I let my hands wander across his rock hard skin, the iciness sending goosebumps through my body, my nipples tightening and begging for attention. Emmett's hands cupped my neck, his thumbs stroking across my jaw softly before exploring further downwards and cupping my breasts.

I sucked in a breath, whining a little as he gave my nipples a light pinch through the fabric of my shirt and bra.

"I think you are wearing far too many clothes, Y/N." He whispered, nipping at my ear.

"Funny," I breathed. "I was thinking the same of you."

"Hands up, baby. Before I rip your shirt off you."

"You wouldn't dare."

There was a sudden tearing sound, and my mouth popped open to see that my shirt had been ripped right open, exposing my rather lacy bra. Emmett eyed my chest greedily, licking his lips. I just glared up at him as he went to grope my breasts.

"You know Alice is gonna kill you right?"

Emmett stopped, his hands in midair as his eyes went wide in horror.

"I… I obviously did not think this through."

"No. No you did not."

"Maybe I should start running now." He smirked.

"Don't. You. Dare." I hissed at him, grabbing him by the neck so he was eye level with me once more. "You're going to finish what you started. And then you can fuck off into the wild blue yonder, and if you're lucky, you might avoid Alice's wrath."

Emmett snorted, bringing me in for a soft kiss. "I love you."

"I love you, too, baby."

He kissed me deeply, his hands slowly peeling off my shredded top and my bra following along with it. His icy hands kneading my warm flesh before pinching and rolling my nipples between his fingers. I let out a small gasp, my head falling back to expose my neck, which Emmett took full advantage of, his lips latching on and sucking. There would be bruising hickeys there in the morning, and I was certain Emmett was purposely leaving them in places where they could easily be seen.

I dug my nails into his skin softly, and suddenly I wished I was already a vampire, just so I could leave marks along his back, laying my own claim.

I felt his hands finally trail their way to other areas, one around my back and the other to cup my soaked mound through my shorts, rubbing me rather harshly with his thumb. He then kissed his way down my neck, licking and nipping until he found my nipple, sucking it into his mouth with one long swift move.

I gasped, my back arching of its own accord, silently willing Emmett to touch me more. His hand continued to rub my mound, my clit getting just the slightest bit of stimulation from the combination of the jean material and the lace of my panties rubbing against it.

"Fuck." I moaned, threading my fingers through Emmet's hair, letting my hips begin to gyrate against his hand.

Emmett groaned, biting my nipple gently before pulling back and holding his fingers to my mouth. I took them without a second thought, eyes widening when I tasted my arousal on them. I had soaked through not only my panties but my shorts as well. His eyes darkened.

"I don't think I can wait much longer, love." His voice had gone husky with need.

"Then don't," I replied, my tongue snaking out between his fingers.

Emmett growled, lifting my ass off the table and pulling my shorts and panties off swiftly, followed by his own pants and boxers. My eyes widened at the sight of him, hard and erect, just for me. He lifted my legs, pulling me right to the edge of the table. He didn't even bother trying to stretch me out before the home run. He simply slid right into me, and I gasped at the sudden intrusion.

"Emmett!" I groaned, my head falling forward onto his chest.

"Sorry, babe. I can't help it."

"Bullsh-"

I yelped as he thrust into me, setting a pace that was fast and hard. Just the way I liked it. I let out a little gasp with every thrust, the very tip of his cock brushing along that sweet spot that had me seeing stars. Before I could comprehend what was happening, Emmett had me flat on my back against the table, and he leaned all the way forward to nip at my lips and jaw. I shuddered beneath him, letting out a ragged moan as the new position caused the heat in my belly to coil, tighter and tighter with each thrust.

Emmett's hands were everywhere, stroking along my thighs, reaching to pinch and pull at my nipples, and even one hand finding its way to the juncture between my legs, rubbing and swirling around my clit, sending sparks of pleasure straight to my pussy.

I could feel something happening, something building up inside of me and I couldn't hold back the moan when it finally crested. My pussy clamped down on Emmett's cock, grinding down on it as I let the orgasm hit me full force, my body shaking with the intensity of wave after wave of pleasure.

"That's it, baby." He breathed, eyes darkening. "Keep coming for me."

"Emmett." I whined.

My body was almost electric as he continued to pump into me and I could already feel the coil beginning to tighten up again, the warmth turning into an almost unbearable heat as he continued to hit my sweet spot. I panted, pulling his lips to mine.

Emmett's next thrusts were almost brutal, slamming me down onto the table and driving himself even deeper into me.

"Fuck!"

The coil snapped again, and this time Emmett came with me, the coolness of his seed bathing my walls and dripping out of me. Suddenly Emmett was catching himself before he collapsed on top of me.

We both paused, breathing hard, and in that moment we both heard a rather ominous creaking. Emmett had just enough time for his eyes to widen before the poor table collapsed from underneath us, sending us both crashing to the floor, him still buried inside me.

For a moment we were too stunned to move.

And then the laughter set in.

I was honestly surprised it hadn't collapsed sooner.

I was completely red with embarrassment but I couldn't stop giggling. Emmett slid out of me and picked me up, careful of the debris and my delicate skin. He held me in his arms, chuckling as he assessed the damage. The table was completely ruined beyond repair, only halfway standing on the other two legs that hadn't given way to our rather… rigorous love-making.

I finally calmed down a little, my cheeks hurting from the silly grin on my face.

"Forget Alice. Esme is gonna skin you alive."

Emmett immediately stopped laughing, looking at the table with wide eyes.

"Fuck."

Suddenly I was standing alone in the dining room, and not even a second later a fully dressed Emmett was back and helping me dress in some of his clothes, since you know, he ripped mine. I spotted the suitcase next to the door and looked up at Emmett quizzically after he helped me into on of his shirts.

"Are we going somewhere?"

"Yeah." He muttered, genuine fear in his eyes.

I raised my brow at him.

"Esme would actually skin me alive and I'd rather not experience it."

Emmett started ushering me out to his Jeep and I just stared at him.

"You're at least gonna clean it up right?"

{Kinktober} // {Masterlist}

Taglist: @alecvolturi @alecvolturiswifeforever @belladonna-xox @hyperuseless @jana-jaeynneee @itsmytimetoodream @lack-lust-3r @lucansmina @pawspurpaw @pooka167 @rosedpetal @targaryenmoony @twilightlover2007

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[nebulaafterdark]

More Than Anyone Pt. 4

Aegon x Velaryon(Strong)! Reader

Summary: Royal family dinner at the Red Keep is rather interesting.

Porn with heavy plot. MDNI, 18+ Only. Targcest, depictions of labor/childbirth, character death.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Family dinners at the Red Keep are somewhat of a farce. They do not enjoy breaking bread together, content to stick to their separate wings, their separate lives. Alicent and Rhaenyra especially.

Since Y/N and Aegon have wed, the Queen has stopped pushing for the Strong children to be declared illegitimate. Her son would be close enough to a King. He would be safe.

Y/N will make a fine queen. Alicent loves her like her own, but Y/N is stubborn. Aegon’s love has only proved to further spoil her. If she wishes her daughter to be heir, in spite of Alicent’s desires, she would do just that, and she has.

The Princess is seated between Jacaerys and Aegon. The Prince does not tolerate other men being so close to his sweet wife, even her beloved brothers. Or perhaps it was the fact that they are so dear to her that sets him on edge. If they had wed, in the true way of the Dragon, Y/N would’ve been married to Jace instead of Aegon. And the thought alone leaves a foul taste in his mouth.

Y/N keeps her husband’s hand in hers as she laughs, jesting away with her brother.

“Hello, little one. It’s your uncle, Jacaerys. Jace, if you prefer. Your sisters and brother enjoy my company, I hope you will too.” With that he leans away, happily and back to his meal.

My baby, Aegon seethes. The one I fucked into her. Not you.

Y/N brings Aegon’s hand to her belly then, watching with a tender grin as his face softens.

“Perhaps Jacaerys should focus on fathering a child of his own. Hmm, Baela?” Aegon says, directing his attention down the line of bodies. “You have been married a year now.”

“Aegon,” Y/N shakes her head as Jace’s hands ball in fists.

“It fills me with great joy to see you all getting along.” King Viserys tells the children.

“Indeed, Grandsire.” Jacaerys affords a tight lipped grin.

Aegon raises his cup to his father. They are not sure how much time the King has left, they all do their part to keep him happy.

Y/N pats her Grandsire’s hand across the table.

“My girl,” Viserys chokes out. “Mending our family whole.”

Y/N feels tears prickle at the back of her eyes, “I try.” She tries but never quite succeeds.

Luce is sat at the foot of the table, with Aemond at the head, near his wife Helaena. Lucerys chuckles to Rhaena at the way the pig jiggles when placed in front of his uncle.

This sets Aemond off, slamming a fist into the table as he stands. All eyes land on him.

“Aemond,” Alicent whispers.

“I should like to raise a toast, to my niece, Y/N and to my nephews; Jace, Luce and Joffrey. Each of them comely, wise….Strong.” Aemond meets their gaze pointedly. “Let us drain our cups to these Strong-”

“I dare you to say that again.” Jace rises to match him.

Daemon clears his throat, watching the chaos unfold. Rhaenyra shifting uncomfortably beside him, heavy with child.

“Why? ‘Twas only a compliment.” Aemond skirts round the table so they are face to face.

Y/N stands immediately, placing herself between them, facing her brother. “Ignore him.”

At this Rhaenyra, Daemon and Alicent spring to action. Lucerys and his wife not far behind.

Aegon takes his own brother aside, “bite your tongue.”

“Oh relax, brother. It’s all a bit of good fun.” Aemond purses his lips.

Even after they manage to get everyone back in their seats, Aegon cannot shake the image of Jacaerys’ hands upon her. Clasped in Y/N’s as she calms him.

When they are excused, Aegon follows his wife to the children’s rooms. Bidding them goodnight and sweet dreams, he feels a bit less on edge after that.

He helps Y/N out of her dress and into her nightgown once they are finally alone, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. Y/N reaches back, caressing his hair; soft and familiar beneath her fingertips.

“Thank you for what you did…standing up to Aemond couldn’t have been easy, but it moves me, deeply.”

“I will protect you, always.” Aegon tells her.

“You seem unnerved.” She nuzzles against his cheek.

“Jacaerys was quite…close to you this evening.”

“He is my brother.”

“The man you might have been betrothed to.”

“Aegon,” the Princess huffs a laugh. “You mustn’t do this to yourself. I love no one else the way I love you. It does not suit you to be jealous of my baby brother.”

He turns his wife to face him, tracing his thumb along the apple of her cheek. “You are the world to me. The thought of anyone taking you from me is one I cannot bear.”

“Aegon,” she cups his hand with her own, “I am not going anywhere. I’ve no desire to. I want to be with you, my love.”

Aegon nods, still not entirely convinced.

“Come here,” Y/N murmurs. Drawing him in until their lips meet. “I need you, Aegon.”

The Prince groans, the note of desperation rushing directly to his cock. He pulls her closer still, her belly pressed up between them, full of his babe. His child and hers made of love.

“Now, please?” Y/N purrs, stroking him through the fabric of his breeches.

He walks her back toward the bed, until it hits the back of her knee. “Lie down, sweetheart.”

“Here?” She breathes. Upon the short side of the mattress?

“Let your legs hang over the edge.” Aegon nods, removing his own clothes.

Y/N obeys, allowing her thighs to fall open for him.

Aegon runs his finger tips up her calf, to her knee, hitching her leg up past his waist, to his shoulder. “Is this too painful?”

“No.” The Princess quirks a brow.

“Good.” He removes her small clothes before resuming the position. His length poised at her entrance, pressing inside slowly so she feels every inch.

Y/N replies with a sharp intake of breath, accepting him eagerly. Her cunt is hot and tight, sucking greedily at his cock as he pulls out, only to force himself back in.

Aegon allows her a few moments at this pace, working her open as not to cause discomfort. She prefers to keep a bit of modesty about her as she swells with child. Her husband entertains this by allowing her nightgown to remain on during intimacies. Watching her little pebbled nipples strain against the thin fabric.

“Fuck,” Y/N whimpers as he begins moving faster.

“That’s right, sweetheart.” Aegon growls, kissing her inner calf, held up against his shoulder to drive himself deeper. “I love fucking you.”

Y/N reaches out between them, putting a hand to his hips. Her eyes wide as Aegon’s thrusts quicken.

“Use your words, pretty.” He continues battering the sweet spot inside her.

The Princess whines a bit more. “I-”

Aegon takes mercy on his love, finding the worlds for her. “You are so sensitive.”

“Please, Aegon.” Faster. Slower. Harder. Softer. She wanted all of these things at once.

“I know, my dearest love.” He tuts at her.

She fumbles around for his hand. “Need you.”

“You have me, sweet girl. Right in your perfect little cunt,” he cooes. “I’m going to take care of you.”

The Princess nods, rapidly. Face screwed up in unbearable pleasure, fighting for breath as Aegon pushes her higher; until she tumbles over the edge of bliss.

Trembling, sobbing and squeezing his hand. The force of her release threatening to shove him out as she coats his length and thighs in her slick. The poor thing jumps when his forefinger finds her pearl, still swollen and throbbing, coaxing more wetness from her.

“That’s my girl. Let me see you, Y/N. Give me your eyes.” Aegon murmurs.

Her lids peel open, blown pupils meeting his. “I want you to come for me. Please? I need it.”

“You need it?” He chuckles. He’s trained her well.

“Please,” she cries. “I love you, please.”

“I love you too, dearest.” He murmurs against the leg upon his shoulder. And oh how her love was a weapon to wield. Breaking past every obstacle in it’s path; reshaping him into something new. He circles her bundle of nerves faster. “You’re going to have to come again, all over my cock. Then I will give you every last drop. Can you do that for me?”

“Just for you.”

His erection twitches within her warmth. Her words alone threaten to pull him over the edge. Aegon allows her leg to fall back to his waist, her bump is nearing the point where he cannot reach her lips when leaning over. So he takes advantage while he still can.

She tangles her fingers in his hair, content to be full of him, loved by him. To please him and to satisfy his every desire. That is the depth of her love for Aegon…and it terrifies her.

Y/N comes apart again, milking his length for what feels like an eternity as Aegon pumps his release deep within her. Feeling tears come, hot and unbidden against the crook of his wife’s neck.

“What troubles you so, my love?” Y/N wonders, stroking his silver locks, patiently.

How can he explain it? For he does not understand himself.

————————————————————————

“Princess.”

Y/N’s lady in waiting startles her awake, Aegon’s arm still draped over her side, only the bed sheets covering them.

“I am sorry to wake you, but your presence is requested by the Princess Rhaenyra.”

“My mother?” Y/N springs from bed. “Help me dress, please.”

“At once, your grace.” The woman nods, moving dutifully toward the armoire and gathering the first dress her hands stumbling upon.

The closure seems to take longer than usual, perhaps due to nerves, or the fact that they both fumble around in the dim lit room. “Have you any idea what’s happened?”

“I could not say, Princess.”

“Of course,” Y/N takes a steadying breath.

“But…it may be her labors.”

“Her labors?” It is far too soon.

“I cannot say for certain.”

“Very well,” Y/N understands. “Thank you for telling me what you know. If Prince Aegon wakes while I am away, please let him know I will return soon.”

With that Y/N takes leave, down the corridor, fast as her legs will carry her. One hand held to her belly as a side stitch seats itself beneath her ribcage.

Rhaenyra is hunched forward, grasping the windowsill, groaning through her contraction.

“Mama?” Y/N breathes out.

The woman releases a low moan, gathering her strength before she speaks, reaching a hand toward her daughter. “My darling girl, this revelation is a heavy one and I do not wish to burden you with it, but I’m afraid I must.”

“It is alright,” Y/N shakes her head. Taking Rhaenyra’s hand for comfort.

“Your Grandsire Viserys has passed. Few are aware, but the news will soon spread. Ow- fuck.” Rhaenyra falters.

“What can be done?” Y/N squeezes her mother’s fingers.

“With my father dead, the Greens will demand the throne be swiftly claimed. You are my heir. If I do not survive this night, you shall be Queen.”

“I-” I cannot lose you.

“Go. Make your preparations.” Rhaenyra chokes out, “nothing is to be done while I’m abed. Daemon is seeing to that, you needn’t worry.”

“I worry for my mother.” Y/N blinks back tears.

Rhaenyra cups her daughter’s face in hand. “I will not go quietly.” Rhaenyra will fight.

Series Taglist: @sophiexoxosblog @alicentswife @f4ll-for-you @tempt-ress @percyjacksonspeen @zoleea-exultant @midnightrqin @buckystevelove

Part 5

[wewontbesleeping]

I MISS MY CAT

[prythianpages]

🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ imagines inspired by ABBA songs ✩ ♬ ₊.🎧

rainbow divider is by @cafekitsune! I really just wanted an excuse to make a little disco edit so I made this masterlist. There might be more songs added to this if I get new ideas/inspirations. If you have any suggestions for them or would like to talk about any one of them, feel free to send an ask my way ❤

•¨•.¸¸♪ Lay All Your Love On Me | Cassian

summary: Cassian is your best friend and best friend’s don’t thirst after one another. Best friends don’t get jealous. Best friends also don’t fall in love with one another. But you did.

•¨•.¸¸♪ When I Kissed the Teacher | Cas's version

summary: After weeks of shameless flirting and one drunken confession, you decide to finally own up to your feelings for Cassian.

•¨•.¸¸♪ I've Been Waiting For You | Azriel

summary: After centuries of waiting, Azriel finally meets the one he's been longing for. His mate. (this is kinda inspired by Alice & Jasper from twilight.)

•¨•.¸¸♪ Slipping Through My Fingers | Azriel

summary: it's your baby girl's first day of school and Azriel isn't ready to let her go. *this is based on my Az x Witch reader au but can be read as a stand alone.

•¨•.¸¸♪ When I Kissed The Teacher | Az's version

summary: After crushing on Azriel for weeks, Nesta dares you to kiss him during Valkyrie training.

•¨•.¸¸♪ A Man After Midnight | Eris

summary: though engaged to Sawyer Vanserra, you feel utterly and completely alone with only the company of autumn winds, blowing outside your window. that is, until, Eris shows up. Your man after midnight.

•¨•.¸¸♪ 'Cause Somewhere in The Crowd There's You | Lucien

summary:When Tamlin sends Lucien to the Night Court as his emisssary, he stumbles upon a nightclub and finds himself captivated by you. His sweet nightingale.

WIPs

These are in no particular order. I am currently focusing on Rhys's & Cas's next.

•¨•.¸¸♪Sing a New Song, Chiquitita | Rhys's Sis x Azriel (ACOSM AU)

summary: your big brother comforts you after a fight with Azriel.

•¨•.¸¸♪ Can't You Hear Me, S.O.S? | Rhysand

summary: You and Rhysand, your childhood bestfriend, make a promise to each other when teenagers. If you two don't find someone by your 300th birthday, you will marry each other instead. Too bad for Rhysand that you get proposed to just before your birthday.

•¨•.¸¸♪ Honey, Honey | Cassian

summary: Hate. Desire. Anger. You make Cassian feel all of the above but when Azriel assigns him to accompany you on a mission, he finds something even more dangerous. A burning crush on you.

•¨•.¸¸♪ The Winner Takes it All | Lucien

[rhaellatyrell]

Babysitting Duties

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Warnings: so so so much fluff, typical asoiaf stuff tbh (mentions of targcest)

Words: 1.7K

A/n: I feel like Aemond would be such a girl dad and I won’t take criticism on that 🗣️👆🏼

————————————————————————

Giddiness practically radiated off of (Y/N) as she, Aemond, and Queen Alicent made their way to Helaena and Aegon’s chambers. As Helaena’s favourite lady-in-waiting, (Y/N) had been by Helaena’s side throughout her pregnancy, knowing how troubling it had been for the princess of merely four-and-ten years and her reservations around her marriage to her elder brother. She had been the only one who would not only listen to but enjoy her facts about bugs, visions, and dreams - often sharing her own.

“Oh, I do hope she is okay,” (Y/N), although excited, was still concerned for her dear friend’s wellbeing, “I know she was rather nervous.”

Alicent caught up to her in a stride or two and placed a gentle hand on the young girl’s shoulder, “She will be fine, sweetling. She is strong, our Helaena.”

“It is true.” Agreed Aemond, gently taking (Y/N)’s hand in his as they continued to walk.

Alicent smiled warmly at the interaction, dropping her hand and holding it in her other as she lay them in front of her stomach, walking as courteously as ever. Ever since the… incident at Driftmark, Aemond had become more and more reserved, keeping to himself and hiding away in the library. At least he did, until (Y/N) and her father had arrived, the former to serve as Helaena’s companion and the latter to serve on the small council. Slowly, but surely, the two became fast friends, although, Alicent expected it was blossoming into something a little more - she was not blind.

They finally reached Helaena’s and Aegon’s chambers and quietly peaked their heads in as to not wake the newly-made mother, should she find herself resting. A small gasp escaped Alicent’s mouth as she saw the two bundles huddled against her daughter who lay awake and smiling at the sight of her three favourite people.

“Please,” she said in a meek voice, “come in.”

Without needing to be told twice, the three stepped inside and made their way to Helaena’s side. (Y/N) noted Aegon’s absence but refrained from querying upon the matter.

“Are you okay? How are you?” She asked Helaena, brushing a stray piece of platinum hair from her forehead.

Helaena smiled and nodded her head, “I am okay, they are perfect, that’s all that matters.”

“Twins?” Aemond seemed somewhat amazed, “Wow.”

Helaena laughed softly, “Yes, it was not easy.”

Alicent looked down at her daughter with pride, “And their names?” She brushed the back of her hand gently over one of the babe’s cheeks.

“Jaehaerys and Jaehaera.”

(Y/N) beamed and placed a kiss against Helaena’s cheek, “Perfect names for perfect babes.”

Helaena returned the gesture, “Thank you, my dearest friend.”

From that moment forth, Alicent, Aemond, and (Y/N) had all fallen hopelessly in love with the two babes and even more so with the young girl who had birthed them, vowing to do anything for them.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It seems that (Y/N) would grow to regret this vow as she groaned, swinging her legs from her bed and stretching her arms at the sound of a shrill cry from the other side of her chambers, followed by a second only moments later. Although absolutely and entirely exhausted, she couldn’t stop the soft smile that grew on her face as she reached the crib sat beside her bookcase.

“Oh, poor ‘Haerys, what on Earth is the matter?” She cooed, picking up the baby boy who immediately soothed at the sound of (Y/N)’s soft voice and the feeling of her silk nightgown on his skin. Holding him in one arm, (Y/N) then took Jaehaera in the other, who was less willing to calm down.

“Sweet girl, do not cry.” She pressed a kiss to her head and she relented for only a moment before another cry escaped her.

(Y/N) sighed as she reflected on her offer to care for the pair for a while as Helaena rested. Her nurse and midwife had to leave her post for a week or so; (Y/N) had thought this would be a lovely opportunity to spend time with her unofficial niece and nephew, (Helaena had insisted that (Y/N) would be addressed as Aunt when the children learnt to speak). Yet, she was now questioning this offer as she could practically feel the energy drain from her as the day went on.

A knock at the door of her chambers caused her to furrow her brows, yet she knew that the hall’s guard would have intervened if the guest was a danger to her or the royal babes. In a gentle voice so as to not wake a now-sleeping Jaehaerys or further disturb the wailing Jaehaera, she called out a curious, “Enter.”

The door creaked slightly as the lantern beside it flickered at the small draught. She smiled as she recognised the face peering into the room.

“Aemond,” she cocked her head, “what are you doing here?”

“May I come in?” He asked, to which she nodded, “I heard the babe and wanted to check that everything was okay.”

Their rooms were directly besides one and other, at their desperate requests only a moon into the young girl and her father’s arrival, and (Y/N) had completely forgot that Aemond may be disturbed during her care of the twins.

“I am awfully sorry, I didn’t think ab-”

“No, no,” Aemond made his way towards her, sitting on the grand seat besides her and near the slowly dying fireplace, “do not apologise, you are doing a kind thing for my sister, you needn’t be sorry at all.”

She smiled but said nothing, trying to adjust Jaehaera with one arm as she continued to cry, albeit a little quieter. Noticing her lack of free arms, Aemond hesitantly reached out, “Would you like me to take her?”

A look of slight relief graced the girl’s face, “If it would not be too much trouble, I just do not know why she is so restless.”

Carefully, Aemond took the babe and returned to leaning back against the large armchair, Jaehaera now snuggled within his arms - a little warmer now as she was closer to the fire and laid within Aemond’s warm robe. Her cries slowly faded and she closed her eyes, leaning further into her uncle.

“I think she was a little cold, is all.” He whispered, looking down at her with a soft gaze.

(Y/N) stood, the babe still in her arms, and fed the fire a little, just enough to keep it going for the remainder of the night - the little of it that was left, at least. Once satisfied, she moved to sit next to Aemond, also looking down at a now content Jaehaera, the two of them fitting snugly on the chair.

“She is so beautiful.” She whispered, “They both are.” In his slumber, Jaehaerys reached up to take his Aunt’s finger in his palm, which she placed a gentle kiss against with a giggle.

Aemond smirked, “He has you wrapped around his finger.”

“You’re one to speak, she’s enamoured with you, my Prince.” (Y/N) laughed and nodded down at the little babe with her head nuzzled into Aemond’s chest, fast asleep.

He laughed with her, “I suppose so.”

There was a small silence as the four of them sat contently, the crackle of the fire and flutter of curtains against the warm night’s breeze serving to make them aware of their profound exhaustion. With a yawn, (Y/N) subconsciously leant her head against Aemond’s shoulder, as she often did as they sat reading in the library or spoke underneath the trees in the Godswood. A warm blush flushed Aemond’s face as he unintentionally leant into her, too, leading her to hum in comfort.

“The prospect of childbirth, while utterly terrifying, seems so beautiful. I cannot wait.” She confessed in a small voice, only for the four of them to hear.

“Really?” Asked Aemond; most ladies, as far as he was aware, were not so genuinely fond of childbearing. Of course, they recognised it as their duty and an inevitable thing for women of their standing, yet there was a tenderness and excitement in (Y/N)’s voice that was not common amongst the other women of the court - not even his mother.

She nodded with a hum, “Even if I do not marry well, or happily, I will love my children with all my heart.”

He was sure she would, he knew she would, it was just her nature. However, the former part of her words had saddened him. If anyone deserved a happy life, to be loved wholly, it was her. The idea of her being unloved, neglected, or worse troubled him deeply.

“I would not let you marry unhappily, neither would mother. You deserve all the happiness in the world.” He was unsure where such affectionate words had come from, not entirely typical of him as he usually resorted to sarcasm or indirect compliments.

It seems that (Y/N) didn’t note this sudden softness, too wrapped up in her own little bubble of contentedness, her eyes beginning to close as her lack of rest caught up with her.

“I’m only happy when I’m with you.”

Aemond hoped she could not feel the skip in his heart upon her confession. The slight laugh present in her words only made him blush further as she, seemingly, did not understand the gravity of her words. Suddenly, Aemond’s thoughts were flooded of images of her and himself having the life she had spoken of. Until now, he had never had such thoughts, yet the sight of Jaehaerys in her arms and Jaehaera in his, the feeling of her resting against him, and the warmth of her words had him questioning everything. It felt right. They were young, but he knew. He knew this would be the moment he would reflect on in his maturity as he, hopefully, sat alongside her with their own children in their arms. But that would have to wait. Right now, he was more than happy with what was and the prospect of what could be.

The next morning, unsurprisingly, he asked to speak with his mother and (Y/N)’s lord father.

[meraxesmoon]

Modern AU HOTD Yandere HCs

note: idk what possessed me to make this lmao

warnings: yandere content, dark content, toxic relationships, sexual innuendo in aegon's part, college students au, helaena is my sweet baby ily helaena targaryen

┍━━━━━━━ ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗━━━━━━━┑

Aemond Targaryen

☆ He meets his darling in college and is charming enough for them to trust him almost immediately. Aemond is smart, and often offers to tutor his darling in any subjects they're having trouble with, even going as far as renting out a room in the campus library so they can study without being bothered by other students.

☆ There comes a time where Aemond becomes romantically involved with his darling, after careful planning, and he invites them over to his apartment. He's a Targaryen, so he lives lavishly, but his apartment is tasteful, and you wouldn't know that he's rich just by looking at his home. Inside resides his large Maine Coone, Vhagar. She's this huge, extremely old and grumpy cat, who surprisingly takes a liking to Aemond's darling, and is always more active when they come around.

☆ Aemond is smooth with his relationship, yet he's far from perfect. Aemond is jealous, possessive, and obsessive when it comes to his lover, and hates sharing them with anyone else. He's more on the traditional side, as well, and desires to make them his little housewife as soon as possible.

☆ He most definitely tells his mother about his darling! Alicent and Aemond have weekly lunch dates, and she loves (Name) already from just hearing her son talk about them. She wants to meet them so bad, and once she does, she absolutely adores them. Aemond is a mama's boy. Not meeting his mother is out of the question!

Aegon Targaryen II

☆ The resident fuckboy, Aegon desires his darling more than any of his hookups, but she just doesn't seem interested in casual stuff. I can definitely see Aegon going for the nice girl, and he's an absolute menace when it comes to his darling! Aegon is high key annoying, but he's definitely an art student, which makes a lot of sense.

☆ I feel like his darling would be good friends with Helaena, so he asks her to put in a good word for him. Despite his reputation, Aegon is really devoted to his darling and has a hard time with anyone else that he tries to bring into his bed. It's a very toxic situation because while he's in bed with someone else he's thinking of (Name).

☆ Aegon is a bitch, like he'd let a pretty girl walk all over him kind of bitch. Once he does get involved with his darling, he's incredibly good at pleasing them. It doesn't matter what they want. He's there. This isn't just a sexual thing. Either way, he'd literally do anything for their approval.

☆ He's dependent on his darling, as well. He loves his sweet girl so much that he's unable to imagine his life without her! He wants to crawl into her body so she can never be without him, and Aegon recognizes how creepy that is, so he settles for keeping her in his bed as long as humanly possible.

Helaena Targaryen

☆ This sweet girl is an entomology student! She loves her bugs and is so passionate about them that she goes into that kind of career path. She meets her darling through her mother, unsurprisingly. Helaena doesn't have many friends, and so when she finally finds herself a companion, she's very happy!

☆ Helaena's feelings for her darling don't stay platonic, obviously, and she ends up wanting them to be more than friends. I definitely think she's neurodivergent, so Helaena isn't quite sure how to navigate her emotions when it comes to romance, but she knows that she absolutely adores (Name).

☆ She's a stalker. That's the only way to describe Helaena. She loves observing. She always has, but it's different when it comes to (Name). They're very close, and Helaena just loves looking at them! She thinks that her darling is so pretty, the prettiest in the entire world. So, Helaena follows her darling around constantly. When they're not hanging out together, she tries to steal glances of them. She's so sneaky about it, too. You'd never catch her in the act.

☆ Helaena hyperfixates on things, so she really appreciates it when people take in interest in her hobbies or whatever she's into currently. Like, she went through a phase where she was absolutely fixated on doing crochet, and she was making little bugs to give to her family and darling. She blabbers on to Aegon about her darling. I feel like in a modern AU, they would be very close :((((

☆ She has a pet tarantula named Dreamfyre 💕

[why-what-no]

Being Alicent’s Daughter Would Include

Pairing: Alicent x Daughter!Reader

Warnings: Allusions to violence, misogyny

Notes: Alicent is literally my baby. So is Rhaenyra. But right now Alicent gets the spotlight

When Alicent was pregnant with you, there was a slight bitterness when she thought of becoming a mother once more

It wasn’t your fault, she knew that. And she knew that she would love you more than anything, just like she did for her other children.

But the sight of her husband everyday, of the thought of raising another child who looks so much like a young version of her former dearest friend, hurt her in ways that she wouldn’t fully let herself understand.

After all, the crown needed heirs. That was her job. And she fulfilled it best that she could.

When you were born, as she expected, she loved you the moment she laid eyes on you. Used to the birthing process by now, she would normally hand her children over to the maid to be cleaned

But with you, her fourth, she couldn’t resist holding you just a bit longer.

Having another girl filled her with happiness, but also fear. Knowing that you would befall a fate similar to hers. Not everyone can live as Rhaenyra does, she thought bitterly.

One future for you would be to be betrothed to Aemond. Alicent knew he would be a decent husband to you, unlike Aegon to her sweet Helaena.

The other voice in her head, which sounded suspiciously like her father’s, knew that a Targaryen princess would be a good bargaining piece in a political marriage benefiting the crown.

But Alicent ignored all of that. For as long as she could keep you, you were hers. You were the small bit of light in Kings Landing. And she made it her mission to not let that light get extinguished.

She made sure that you had all that you needed and more growing up, keeping you protected from all the darkness and violence in the world outside the walls of the castle.

You were the baby of the family, always having either Alicent or Aemond or one of the very few others that she trusted by your side.

When you began to grow up, you did start realizing that the world wasn’t as godly and fair as your mother had led you to think. And she took this time to be honest with you about the world.

No matter what, you knew she loved you more than anything. As you did with her. Even in moments where your values clashed, like when she turned a blind eye to your eldest brother’s actions, she was your rock. Your anchor, your protector.

She did all she could to raise you into a kind, respectable young woman. And as you grew she was so proud of the woman her daughter was becoming.

She hoped you would live a blessed life. To marry someone you truly loved and have many happy children. To make a friend who knew and loved you more than any husband would and get to stay with them for your whole life.

There was still that sadness when you would look at her and all she would see was Rhaenyra. When she would remember the joy she took thinking about them flying away on dragon back together

The traitorous part of her that wanted to visit Rhaenyra. To show her what you have become. She had thought when she was little that she and Rhaenyra would raise their children together.

But now there was a great invisible wall between the two woman. And it burned Alicent when ever she tried to touch it or even think of it.

So instead, Alicent ignored it. Putting her full energy into you and your siblings. Pretending that it didn’t matter when her husband would talk with pride about Rhaenyra’s sons and say nothing about that amazing daughter that Alicent had given him.

Still, Alicent made sure to love you enough for the two of them.

Taglist: @icravethesmut

[enam3l]

rockstar eddie munson fuckin hates tommy lee

read all rockstar eddie munson stories at lore at #enam3ls rockstar eddie

Before Dave Grohl, Eddie Munson was known as the nicest guy in rock n roll. He approached his career the same way as Alice Cooper did, he was a fairly normal dude who just happens to be a metal god although unlike Alice, Eddie didn't wear a costume - he just looked like that always.

Do you know what Eddie thought was fuckin metal? Having a wife he loved more than anything, a supportive group of friends and things he enjoyed doing that weren't snorting lines off groupies tits like the industry expected him to.

He'd ran into Motley Crue a few times. Corroded Coffin were often seated near them at award shows and various events. The first time they crossed paths was at Corroded Coffin's first ever awards show, their debut album had been nominated. Tommy Lee had sauntered past you and Eddie, looking your fiancé up and down like he was dirt and then proceeding to hit on you with a sleazy comment. That night you both agreed 'Man, Tommy Lee fuckin sucks.'

By the mid-nighties, you, Eddie and rest of Corroded Coffin and their significant others avoided crossing paths with Motley Crue. Finding their behaviour tedious and their antics pretty gross. When you'd seen on a magazine that Tommy Lee had now swept Pamela Anderson off her feet, Eddie noticed your concern. You'd both met her before and thought she was sweet. You knew Eddie had a crush on her from Baywatch and through a mutual friend you'd managed to get her to sign a poster for Eddie. He was mortified but definitely didn't mind you wearing the swimsuit to make up for teasing him.

When the sex tape came out you were both horrified for her. Disgusted by the way she was treated and scared that the same could easily happen to you and Eddie. Whilst minding his business on a day out with your young daughter, Eddie was approached by a paparazzi asking if he'd watch Pamela and Tommy's tape. Eddie's reply was asking the photographer if he was ashamed of himself, swiftly followed by a punch in the jaw. Later that day as you bailed him out, Eddie apologised profusely for losing his cool but he was repulsed at how people were treating a woman for just being with her husband, repulsed at the idea that maybe they could speak about you like that and mostly, repulsed they'd mention it in front of your little girl. You didn't care he'd done it, you'd never been prouder.

Now once Tommy Lee had assaulted Pamela that was it, he was dead to Eddie. You'd also been expecting your second baby together when it happened. The thought that a man could even think about physically harming his wife (pregnant or not), never mind actually doing it and risking his baby's life, knocked Eddie sick. The next concert Corroded Coffin had, Eddie came on stage in a tee reading 'TOMMY LEE FUCKIN SUCKS.' A bouquet of flowers was sent to Pamela along with a gift for her new baby.

By the time Corroded Coffin's third studio album came out in 1999, Eddie had made no secret about his views on toxic behaviour in the rock scene, never afraid to use Tommy as reference. The new album's cover art was a black and white photograph of you, dressed like a pin up vampire stood over an open coffin. Now, no one ever confirmed anything but fans couldn't help but notice how the body in the coffin remarkably resembled one Mr Tommy Lee.

rockstar eddie munson is my ride or die! feel free to request anything (it doesn't have to be rockstar ed)

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Lamb (Daemon Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: Modern Daemon has bad blowjob etiquette. You think you can teach him a lesson.

Warnings: Smut. Rimming. That’s it. That's the fic. Nah, kidding. Cursing, trapped in an elevator, male masturbation. Casual workplace sexism.

A/N: The last two Sundays I decided to be sweet. But since my finals started, we go back to my scheduled period of being unhinged. And then I started my actual period and hated this so much. So if it sucks, sorry.

He is staring at you. Again.

You never understood the point of glass walls. If you owned the building, you would have them all replaced by real, actual walls. Or at least, you would put blinds on. But you don’t own the building.

The man that does is sitting in the office right across from yours, staring towards you. Daemon Targaryen. Board member of Targaryen’s Industries. Your father and he had been at each other’s throats since you had been a little girl. Otto Hightower and Daemon Targaryen hated each other, it was a fact of life. Him choosing the office right across from yours had been taken as nothing more than a taunt to your father.

But you knew better. Daemon was set on driving you to insanity. You scowled, and he smirked at you, closing his laptop and sliding those damn glasses off his face to look at you unashamedly. He looked starving. Like he wanted to eat you whole.

You didn’t actually know what his position was. It was hard to keep track. He had been appointed by the CEO, your godfather Viserys, to more departments than you could count. First, he had been head of marketing, but your father complained he was using too expensive models that were not on the budget. Then, he had overseen PR, which had been an absolute disaster. After that, he had been placed as the CFTO, only to be demoted a few weeks later. Then he had been… Well, you get the idea.

Daemon waves his hand, shaking you out of your contemplation. You quickly close your mouth, noticing you had your lips slightly parted, as if to speak a word that would never come out. He snickers, no doubt amused at what he perceives as a weakness.

He has done this for a month. You have to give it to him, he is a patient man. Daemon sits there every morning and just looks at you. Takes you in, as you flutter around your office, sometimes on the phone, sometimes typing away on your computer. He never gets bored, or tired of it. How could he, when he is a predator waiting to pounce?

You see, Daemon has been waiting weeks for a moment of weakness. Taunting you, looking at you, making you uncomfortable. And it’s fitting, really. That today of all days is the day you break. There is a storm raging outside, the worst winter Westeros has seen in years. Climate change it’s at fault, or so they say. You only know that you despise Daemon, and you despise thunderstorms.

His eyes. Purple and mischievous, meeting yours at every turn. You despise those. His little sideways smirk. That, too, you hate. You hate his entitled, nepo baby attitude, and you are sick of the taunts about your nephews and sister. His handsome face, and how good he looks in glasses. Annoying. You wish someone would put him in his place.

No one had actually expected you to enter corporate life. You see, as the daughter of an old money family, your father was sure you would do just as Alicent did and become the housewife of a rich man. The thing he didn’t take in consideration was that you had inherited none of your mother’s and Alicent’s grace and soft tempers, and all his cunningness.

You had gone to a good school, and had quickly risen through corporate ranks. You had a strong work ethic, but your last name had helped, too. Being the daughter of Otto Hightower had his perks, especially in university, considering you had been able to not worry about paying student debt and only focus on getting good grades. It also helped that you had a sure work once you had graduated, since Viserys Targaryen was not only your brother-in-law, but you were his goddaughter too. That last fact had made for interesting conversations after he married your older sister.

Still, you dedicated yourself to your work, trying to prove you deserved to be there as much as anyone else. It was a male dominated field, and working in the company where your father was CCO, and your sister married to the owner meant many expected you to be either looking for your own rich husband or to be a lazy nepo baby. Just like Daemon was.

The sound of thunder cast you out of your thoughts. You gave a quick glance at the window, noticing that once more, it was pouring. Not a good omen for your meeting. Thunderstorms always made you slightly uneasy.

Too wired to keep working, you shut down your laptop and slid it inside your purse. You had to be at the meeting room in fifteen minutes, which, in reality, meant you had to leave now. As soon as you stepped outside, however, it seemed destiny had other plans.

“Oi, sweetheart!” Daemon called, and you fantasized of strangling him with one of his expensive ties. You knew, without needing him to speak more, that he was about to taunt you. Still, he owned half the company, you couldn’t risk ignoring him. You turned, heels clicking in the hallway. “Bring me a soy latte, no sugar.”

“Mr. Targaryen, I’m sorry, I’m not your secretary. And I’m going to a meeting.” You answered, very politely, and started walking again, this time towards the elevator. Daemon followed, eyeing your ass with delight. You truly worked those dress pants.

“Come on, Hightower. We both know you are not really busy.” He arrived at the elevator first, to your disgrace, and pressed the button. Daemon leaned his arm on the wall, effectively caging you in. You glared at him, trying not to get distracted by how good he smelled. It’s not that you were attracted to him, surely. He just used an expensive cologne, and those always smelt good. Even your nephew Aegon, who was the sleaziest twenty-something you had ever met, could make them work.

“I am, though.” You ducked under his arm and pressed the button insistently, trying to get the elevator to arrive faster. Nothing happened.

“Doing what? Getting the rest of the board coffee?” Daemon snickered at his joke. You turned to look at him, giving him a disdainful once over that turned… Not so disdainful, when you realized he looked good enough to eat in that suit. Whatever, it’s not like it meant anything. All men did. Still, your cheeks heated up, and your next words came out in a mutter.

“Doing my job, Mister Targaryen. Which does not involve serving coffee.”

“Bah, you are a CDO. A made up position if I saw one.”

“I plan the whole company's social media strategy, and oversee our different digital platforms for purchase and devolution.” You glare even more, but quickly avert your eyes when you realize he is looking at you like he wants to eat you. Again. Gods, does he ever tire? “Hardly a made up position.”

“So you direct a bunch of nerds and interns. Big deal. You can still get me coffee, or send your minions to get me one.” Daemon stepped closer, twirling a strand of your hair between his fingers. You batted his hands away, shivering. From the cold, obviously. There was a storm raging outside, it had been one of the harshest winters in a while. It didn’t matter that you were wearing thermal clothes underneath your suit, which was wool. You were not affected by Daemon’s touch. At all.

“Here’s a novel idea.” You were just too angry to avoid insulting him. It was not often you resorted to those petty tactics. You left them to your nephews, Aemond and Aegon. “Why don’t you go bring me coffee? I don’t even know what you are doing in our department, you don’t even have Instagram, old man.”

Daemon laughed.

“Who are you calling old man, little girl? I will have you know, I know all about social media.”

“Oh, really?”

Daemon ignored you, typing something on his phone. You weren’t too bothered by it because the elevator finally got there, and you were able to step inside. Your phone pinged, as you did, so your hand went to the pocket of your blazer to check it. Distracted, you didn’t notice Daemon getting into the elevator with you.

Your phone pinged again. You took it out, checking the notification without unlocking it.

@caraxesrider has started following you

@caraxesrider: U were saying?

At that, you looked up and glared at him, startling a little at finding him inside the elevator.

“You know I will have to report this, right?” You quickly started scrolling through his Instagram, which seemed very… Normal. He followed his official one, and the accounts of his family members and plenty of models and fitness girls. In little clothing. What a pig. “You are not allowed to have an Instagram, apart from the official one that is in the hands of the community manager.”

“Says who?”

“Viserys.”

“Real mature, that you call him by his first name now. Tell me, do you think watching your father’s business partner marry your older sister, who is young enough to be her daughter, traumatized you?”

You ignored his taunt, frowning.

“I will report you to the PR department, they were clear you are not allowed to…”

“Not allowed.” He imitated your voice, mockingly. “Not allowed. Will you tell your daddy, little girl?”

“I’m serious.”

“Whatever. Report me. I don’t care, you are such a kiss ass.” Daemon rolled his eyes. It stung a little. You hated being called that. It was not your fault, truly. You liked following the rules. They were there for a reason. And Daemon’s antics usually made the company stock drop because his last name was attached to it. When Daemon got drunk and insulted a server or was spotted at a strip club, it was not him who suffered, but the company as a whole. He was a PR nightmare. His Instagram, no matter how private, would eventually leak and become another.

But whatever you were going to say, be it either a witty retort, or more talk about what you were going to do, died in your throat when the elevator jerked to an abrupt halt.

“What… What..?” You braced against the wall, the phone falling to the floor in your haste to hold on to something.

“Well, at least we still got power…” Daemon pointed towards one of the security cameras. “They will see us and then…” He didn’t get to finish his sentence because the lights turned off, leaving you both completely in the dark.

“You jinxed it!” You accused, voice shaking. You were not claustrophobic, nor were you afraid of the dark. What did scare you, however, was that you were trapped in an elevator in a building with no power, which as far as you knew, meant you could plummet to your dead anytime.

“Fuck. Never mind. Are you alright? You sound as if you are about to cry, and I can’t deal with crying people.” Daemon complained, switching on his phone, so he could light up the space. He truly looked concerned. He dropped to his knees to search for your phone and handed it to you.

“I’m fine. Just… Do you think we are safe?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Daemon banged on the wall of the elevator, making you let out a tiny yelp at how it shook.

“Don’t do that!”

“When elevators get less power, they jerk to a stop. It’s safe. It was probably the storm.” Daemon is leaning against the wall and starting to scroll through his phone. Like he is bored. And not, you know, terrified out of his mind because he is hanging from a rope in a metal cubicle caught between floors. The thought makes even more panic bubble up in your throat, so you try to think of something else.

“How do you know that?” You narrow your eyes at him, noticing how the light from his phone lighted up his sharp features, giving them an eerie blue glow.

“I read the OSH mail, every once in a while. That was in the winter’s newsletter.” He drawled, in a bored tone. “Come here.”

“Why?”

“Because you look frightened. Come here. I can make you feel better.” And he almost sounds convincing. Were the light on, you would be able to see that he is nearly salivating at the mouth, like the wolf about to pounce on a little lamb.

He has been working on you for a month. Little pretty Hightower, so tightly wound, always doing the right thing. So close to snapping. It’s like you were a present, placed on his lap by Otto himself when he sent him to this godforsaken department.

You gave him a dubious look, but stepped closer.

“Good girl.” Daemon brushed your hair back, gently. You were so close to breaking, he could taste it. “You will be just fine, just match your breathing to mine.

“I’m not having a panic attack, you fool.” You complained, trying to hide the hint of a smile on your lips. What was it about him that was so intoxicating? He had boosted your mood immediately. Oh, you hated feeding his ego.

"Rude.” Daemon muttered. He pulled you into a hug, pressing your bodies close. Chest to chest, hips to hips. Your curves against him, so damn soft, so ready for the taking. “There, there. It will all be fine.”

“I pity your kids.” Still, you melted into the hug regardless. Daemon took the chance to nuzzle your hair, hands trailing dangerously lower on your back.

“You are so rude and cunty. I can see the family resemblance.”

“Shut up, you inbred degenerate.” You mumbled against his throat, still hugging him. “You were chasing after your niece’s skirts not so long ago. And Viserys first wife was your cousin. Your family resemblance is worse.”

“I have not denied it.”

And of course, doing something very foolish, you tilted your head up and kissed him. Blame it on the sexual frustration, or the way he had shown you he had a decent side to him, but you never found him more tempting. Your kiss was heated, all teeth and frustration. If he responded, it would undoubtedly turn things less family friendly.

Daemon, never one to lose the opportunity to have sex, responded in earnest. How could he not, when he had been waiting for a chance to pounce for a month? His lips parted, turning the kiss into something much more dirty. His hands went to your hips, rolling them against his. You moaned.

When you parted, he had his trademark smirk on, full force. The one that said, Daemon Targaryen is a winner. The asshole was getting off on the thought of corrupting a Hightower.

You pressed a few careful kisses down his throat, making sure to not smear your lipstick in places that are noticeable. Daemon smells so good, it makes your knees weak. Fucking expensive cologne.

The arousal doesn't let you think straight, and he loves it. You are desperate for him already, Daemon can tell by the way you clutch and grope at him. And in truth, you are turning into a wanton little thing. Wet from just a few stolen kisses, it’s hard to think of all the reasons why this is wrong.

You want to suck his cock, badly. It’s not often, you are in the right headspace to give head. It gets guys too arrogant. And Daemon is already arrogant enough. The temptation seems too great, until he tries pushing your head down. Talk about a mood killer. It feels as if a bucket of cold water has been dumped on top of you, dulling your arousal and making you realize, in fact, you had been about to suck your nemesis off.

Daemon. You had been about to suck Daemon's cock. The guy who orders you to bring him coffee, as if you were some intern and not the head of your section. The guy who despises your family. The guy who calls you and your father kiss asses and Alicent a cunt. Twenty years older, brother to your godfather, man whore, Daemon.

Oh my god, are you turning into Alicent? Fucking men old enough to be your father? Being into Targaryens? Ew. No way. Viserys is nowhere near as appealing as Daemon. But still. What's next, leaving your career to pop out entitled brats?

You stop. Daemon pushes your head down again. It ignites a rage long settled on you.

“Are you seriously pushing my head down?” It comes out like an indignant little yelp. Turns out, the little lamb was not so willing to surrender, Daemon thinks. He has two choices. He can force you down, make you break. Or he can wait it out, lull you into a false sense of comfort, and slowly get you more and more pliant. Yet, he wants to see what you are about to do.

“Is it working?” He sasses, and you turn your head up to glare, even if he can’t see it in the dark elevator. Then, a thought sparkles in your mind. Kiss ass. And here you have someone who needs to be taught a lesson.

A thud. Your knees hitting the floor of the elevator, between Daemon's legs.

“Fuck. Are you really…?” He groans, and you hear another thud. Must be his head against the wall. Good. Perhaps this way, his two brain cells will actually connect.

You unbuckle his belt and open his trousers, the sound loud in the stillness of the elevator. It's done the fast and quick way, not really knowing how much time you have left before someone comes looking for you. You kiss his hipbones, then his thighs. Daemon tangles a hand in your hair, leading you to his cock. You go along with it, but do not touch him where he wants you to.

Instead, you go lower. And a bit further back.

“What are you…?” He asks, confused. Praying to god he showered that morning, you spread him open and lick a stripe over his asshole. His body seizes up, a moan leaving his mouth. “Oh, little girl… You are filthy.”

Daemon is clean, if a bit hairy. The carpet matches the drapes, you will be able to say now. This will be a little secret, between the two of you. When he mocks you in the boardroom, or asks you to get him coffee, you will be able to think of this moment. Not only have you seen him bare, but you intend to take him apart.

For all his posturing, he is only a man. It shows in the way he arches, hips bucking, desperate to find friction. Cock swollen and balls heavy, tip messy with precum. You lick at him, making sure to make the most obscene slurping noises you can, as if his ass was a fine meal. Daemon moans, hand desperately going to grab at the wall to keep himself upright, and you snicker.

“Tell me again how much of a kiss ass I am.” You taunt, curling one of your hands around his gorgeous cock. He is thick and warm in your grip, you can feel him throb in your hand. Your panties feel embarrassingly wet at the pure filth of the act you are performing, but also at the fact Daemon is losing control so steadily.

“You… Oh. Seven Hells. Fuck.” And it's not his fault, really. You have been steadily opening him up with your tongue, nearly french kissing his hole, only to spear your tongue right when he tries to form a coherent sentence. One of your hands keeps him spread for you, and the other is braced on his hip, to avoid him rutting and bucking. Daemon is so pent-up that if you weren't holding him, he would be humping the wall.

His hand tugs at your hair, harshly. You stop.

“What…?” He looks down at you, at the way your face disappears between his thighs, utterly confused. Then, he gives you a menacing growl, as if he were the one in control. “Don't tease, little girl.”

Daemon wears dominance well. It comes with being a Targaryen, you have realized. The entitlement oozes out of his pores. When he gives an order, he is used to at least five people jumping out of their seats to obey him. That gives any man an unstoppable confidence.

But it's not what you want. This is about rewarding politeness, not him acting like an entitled fool. You press down on the sensitive skin behind his balls, right on his perineum. You want him to beg. Not only will it teach him a lesson, but perhaps, get you railed after.

“Beg.” You order, pinching at his thigh.

“You are out of your mind if you think…” Daemon starts, but he quickly shuts up when you place a hand on his cock again. You are not what he was expecting, not what he was expecting at all. He underestimated you. Yet, he cannot say he doesn’t like what he is learning about you.

“Beg.” You insist, teasingly dragging your nails over his sensitive skin. Not enough to hurt, but to warn. Your teeth and mouth are very close to his most delicate parts, and he should remember it. “And be polite about it.”

“You will not get away with this, little girl. I’ll spank your pretty ass red.” Daemon complains, and you snicker. Funny, that he thinks that is a threat. You intend to do much worse to him.

“Oh, really? And who says you will have the chance?” Petty. Realizing you are not going to budge, and he cannot make you, Daemon lifts his hand from your head and pats you on the hair. Not an apology, no. A reward for a particularly clever pet. The game is not over yet. Not when he still has everything to play for. What is losing a battle when he can win the war?

“Please.” At his moan, you start jerking him off. It's a bit rough, without any lubricant, so you offer your hand to him, never stopping your tongue and mouth from working. Daemon catches the hint beautifully, spitting on your open hand. You go back to jerking him. His desperation is a heady thing. It gets you almost high on the thrill of it. You squeeze your thighs together, trying to get some friction on your clit. A shame you cannot touch yourself, with both hands busy.

You wish you could suck his cock, mouth watering with the sight. He has one of the prettiest you've ever seen, all flushed skin and slightly curved in a way you know would feel just right inside of you. And he is smells nice too, which is deeply unfair. Clean, yet still male and musky. Daemon tenses, cock throbbing in your hand. He is very close, about to spill all over you.

The sound of metal scratching against metal makes you jerk and pull away. Divine intervention, you think to yourself, as you get up and start rightening your clothes and hair.

“And where in the Seven Hells you think you are going?” His tone is so short and clipped, you worry he is about to pounce you. His breath is heavy. You bet, if you could see his face, he would be absolutely enraged.

“Are you deaf?” You answer condescendingly. You can hear how his teeth grit against themselves with how hard he must be clenching his jaw. “Bruxism is not sexy, by the way. You will hurt your teeth.”

“Deaf? Bruxism? What the fuck are you talking about? You just ruined my orgasm! I was so close and you, you… ” Daemon truly, truly wants to grab at you and choke you. He underestimated you. Again. Such a fool, he has been. Thinking he is leading his little lamb to the slaughter, and here you are, composed and retouching your lipstick without a care in the world. Oh, next time he gets his hands on you, he is going to make you cry.

“They are opening the door.” You answer, smugly.

“You little shit!” Daemon nearly screams. You cannot hold it any longer, and start laughing. The scratching turns louder, and Daemon hurries to tuck himself back into his suit.

When they finally open the doors, you strut out, not a care in the world. You kiss your father’s cheek, who is standing next to the security guys. Daemon glowers.

“Neither of you thought to text or call someone?” Otto asks, incredulous. He turns to you and checks you over. “Are you alright? Did he hurt you?”

“I didn’t hurt your precious little flower, Otto.” Daemon rolls his eyes. Now that he is standing in the light, you can see he looks slightly disheveled, cheeks flushed and standing awkwardly. You nearly smirk. “She is a cunt, just like you. If any, she hurt me.”

Otto glares at him, and places an arm over your shoulder, gently steering you away. He starts talking a mile per second, something about all meetings being adjourned because of the weather and waiting to give you a ride home. Of how worried he was, when you didn’t answer your phone and were not in your office. You hardly listen. Because your phone pings in your hand, another Instagram notification.

@caraxesrider: You will pay for that, little girl.

Your fingers fly over the keyboard in your haste to answer him:

I'm totally reporting you to the PR guys. XOXO.