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ghostlyfleur · 4 months

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𝑠𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡.

steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: the sweet progression of steve and his pretty girl’s relationship.

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, idiots in love, oblivious!reader, shy!reader, inexperienced!reader. pet names (angel, baby, flower girl, pretty girl, princess, sweet girl). 18+ mdni, smut-adjacent. world building.

word count: ~4.5k

pre-relationship—

steve’s girl friend is a soft spoken, remarkably sweet, gentle soul. she’s shy, way too anxious, so inexperienced that she comes off as innocent. her wardrobe consists of flowy skirts and flowery dresses and soft sweaters and cozy knits, puts flowers in her hairdos like interwoven in braids or tucked in a half-up half-down mess, has this ethereal vibe to the makeup she likes to wear (ie. shimmery eyeshadow in soft colors, highlighter, sparkly lipgloss, white waterline pencil, fairy wing eyeliner designs, and slightly blushy cheeks), wears silver wire-framed glasses at home when not using contacts and steve thinks it brings out her gorgeous eyes even more. she always wears pretty dangly earrings with flowers, her nails painted with glitter nail polish or neutral soft colors, and steve thinks she’s an angel.

the rest of the people in town mostly think her to be weird and unapproachable, with the way she stops mid walk to crouch down and whisper softly to a ladybug she sees on the sidewalk, or when she accidentally bumps into a street pole and yells out a panicked ‘sorry!’ as if she would hear a reply back.

when steve first met his girl, he was enchanted.

she was so soft and beautiful and kind, but also very anxious; something he noticed the first time she walked into scoops ahoy, and steve was so excited to finally talk to the pretty girl that started working at the flower shop down the block that he’s been pining for. the pretty girl’s reaction to his flirting however was of shyness, nervousness, and seemingly scared silence… so steve decided to make a fool out of himself just to see her smile. it was worth it. steve felt as if her laughter was the equivalent of the skies opening up to let sunshine peak through dark clouds. they eased their way into each other’s lives after that. his girl started seeking him out, finding comfort and safety in his presence and caregiving personality, though remaining clueless of his feelings and just how much robin teased him for being a smitten fool.

“pretty flower girl” is how steve referred to her at the beginning, all heart eyes and dreamy sighs. working at a flower shop seems to fit her so entirely, like she’s in her own little world while surrounded by flora. she’s able to tell you the meanings, both positive and negative, of any flower imaginable, of different plants too! keeps a log book and a journal to track her flora friends’ growth, pressed flowers and polaroid pictures of different bouquets, photographs each beautiful arrangement she creates in a picture album.

her home is also completely taken over by pots and plants and gardens and hanging vines, secrets whispered to them while she waters her little friends as needed, full conversations kept that seem to make all the plants bloom and flourish even more. lots of natural light comes in from the many windows of her cabin, surrounded by greenery and trees and a small pond that wild animals often visit, knowing her safe haven is also a safe haven for any animals. the place always smells like whatever she’s baking, the decor homey and filled with crystals and incense and hand painted mugs and vases. greens, yellows, oranges, and tan colors. books balanced on any available surface.

she becomes steve’s girl best friend, and he loves her so much. worships her, really. steve makes it his mission to spoil and love his pretty girl, even if he hides it behind silly flirting and the pretense of friendship.

whenever they’re together, steve and his girl are all the other sees. the gang has a little bet on who will break first, steve or his flower girl.

her sit is always his lap.

steve swears off other girls as soon as he meets her.

he is very affectionate towards her, and she loves to kiss his cheeks.

they often have sleepovers just the two of them.

they’re so close they can just exist together and be at peace.

she’s so supportive of him too, always praising him and hyping him up.

steve is overprotective of her.

whenever one goes the other sure follows.

see, steve’s girl is so sweet on him it drives robin crazy. because robin knows the feelings are reciprocated, but she also knows both steve and his girl enough to know she needs to let them figure this out by themselves. it doesn’t mean robin isn’t their number one fan, though.

steve’s pretty girl bakes him sweets often to bring to him at work to “make your day a little easier, stevie”, she brings him flowers from her job that steve learns to preserve in his room, she gives him her favorite ring that he never takes off. but steve also does little things for his sweet girl— takes care of her and buys her chocolate because it makes her so happy and giddy he falls a little more in love each time. he also reminds her to drink water, buys her favorite snacks for movie night or when she’s on her period, takes her to the movies, drives her everywhere (because she’s his pretty passenger princess) to have some extra time with her.

oh! steve’s girl also has a bunch of homemade gifts that she keeps in a small glass trunk in her home because she’s too shy to give them to her stevie— handmade bracelets, handmade wire rings, pretty things she finds at thrift stores that remind her of her pretty boy, handmade necklaces, small gifts with pressed flowers, letters she writes down because she feels so deeply for her sweet boy that she needs to let it out somehow, and a bunch of other small gifts that she hopes one day she can give to her stevie to show him how much she loves him.

she’s so lovely to her stevie without even realizing, though. she’s demiromantic, you see, and after becoming friends with steve she started to slowly fall for him. the thing is, she knew very well what was happening, she’s very in tune to her emotions, and she fell for him willingly! whereas steve fell for her fast and kept falling.

imagine his girl never had her first kiss… she’s so inexperienced and her sweet persona and gentle demeanor make her seem like the softest person ever. steve is so mesmerized by her.

he flirts with her and is sweet to her and devotes his time to her and spoils her rotten and gives her kisses and hugs and cuddles and all the love he has to give— steve quickly decided that even if they’re ‘just friends’ he’ll still treat her like his princess, give her everything he can and shower her in his adoration until she catches up. and even then, even when it’s so obvious that steve is in love with her, that he blushes and stutters and gets flustered only for her, that he shows her every day just how much he loves her, she remains oblivious.

in her pov, she knows she’s in love with her stevie so she’s going to treat him like the most precious person in her world. which he is. the thing is that she gives him all of her love without ever once considering that he might return it, even as he flirts and quite literally says he’s hers and she’s his all the time, it never even crosses her mind to actually believe it. maybe because she’s trying to protect herself from heartbreak. she just decides that her stevie deserves the world so she’s going to give him all she can.

but she’s so soft with him! holds his face between her hands when talking to him sometimes like she’s holding her whole world on her hands, presses kisses to his cheeks all the time, gives him hugs. she always compliments him, isn’t afraid of telling him exactly what’s on her mind…

“you look so pretty, stevie”

“i’m so proud of you.”

“i missed you lots today!”

“i saw this cute puppy and it reminded me of you ‘cause you’re just as cute!”

“i always prefer your company.”

flower girl is the most adorable sight steve has ever seen! she pouts so prettily whenever she doesn’t get the attention she wants from him, all soft lips and furrowed brows and plush cheeks crossed arms, and steve just wants to pepper kisses all over her face.

her love languages:

she bakes him cookies ; buys him things that remind her of her stevie ; plans these cute little “friend” outings that feel more like dates ; she’s never lacking in her affections though she’s very timid and shy when it happens ; will defend him no matter what ; makes sure to always praise him ; she gets all cranky if someone insults him even playfully ; she’s very shy so she often hides her face on his chest or neck and it makes his heart flutter ; she helps him babysit bc the kids love her ; she gave her stevie a special arrangement of flowers that she created just for him plus a little booklet of pictures of the two of them together that also had pressed flowers on it for his birthday ; she checks in with him every day even if they don’t see each other to make sure her stevie is doing okay ; will stay on the phone with him all night especially if he had a nightmare or a fight with his parents.

where steve’s best friend is all cute and pouty and sweet and clingy and loving but only to her stevie!!!!! and she’s a bit ditzy— talks to animals and plants and inanimate objects like they can answer her, her thoughts jump from one thing to another but steve always entertains her, she skips instead of waking a lot, she dresses all cute and coquette and always has glitter on her somewhere, she gives steve handmade gifts all the time with this shy little smile and blushing and sometimes when the gift is specially meaningful she’ll run away as soon as he accepts it 🥺 she trips over her own feet a lot too!!! so steve has to grip her waist to help her find her footing!!! and it makes her break out in goosebumps!!! and steve is so in love with her, with her ramblings and midnight ice cream cravings and true crime rants and the way she talks about murder and psychopath profiling and laughs at horror movies and has crystals and tarot cards and wants to befriend ghosts, how she gives her stevie little glass bottles with protection spells or anti-anxiety spells or how she always needs to hear his voice before bed.

and she’s so pretty and soft and kind and nice and laughs a lot and everyone loves her— but she never notices how so many people flirt with her, and never notices whenever steve scares possible suitors away, because really she only sees steve!!!!!! and it makes him crazy to see how she blatantly ignores anyone and everyone to focus on him!!!!!

but then one day steve’s girl starts feeling sad and heartbroken because she’s convinced herself that steve still loves nancy so she starts pulling away a little and steve doesn’t understand what he did wrong! robin has to spell it out for him that his girl thinks he still wants nancy when that couldn’t be further from the truth; steve now knows he’s never truly been in love before, not like he is with his angel, and that it was his angel that showed him he deserves someone who loves him just as much as he loves them. therefore, steve does his best to find ways to tell his girl that nancy is in the past, that she has nothing to worry about, but he has to do so while him and his angel aren’t together yet so he slowly breached the subject until he can figure out where his girl stands, if he can make a move, if she’s interested in him too, y’know? like those conversations filled with a deeper meaning and both parties trying to drop hints about their feelings but they’re still too hesitant to be more clear in their affections. for now.

imagine steve spoiling her and making her all giddy and happy and shy and giggly :( i want steve to treat his baby like royalty way before they even get together :( i wanna read about their first kiss and how it makes steve’s knees buckle and how she’s so giggly because it’s her first kiss and he tells her he wants to marry her right then and there and she tells him she never ever would consider being with anyone but her stevie :(

after they get together—

their first kiss happens in what steve considers to be the best night of his life to date.

it was halloween, and he was slightly nervous about going to the fair with not only the kids and robin and eddie, but his girl too. the year before, he stayed in with his angel and robin watching movies and eating junk, which was the perfect night ‘cause he got to cuddle his girl, but last halloween he went out to celebrate didn’t end up being very enjoyable for him… what with having your now-ex call you bulshit, bullshit, bullshit.

however, this is his girl he’s talking about. while it wasn’t a date, simply a hangout with their friend group, steve still considers his girl, well… his. and the fact she insisted on meeting them there herself had him slightly on edge.

she was dressed as a fairy.

steve has never seen anyone as pretty, as mesmerizing. and the way she treated this night, treated him, was driving steve crazy.

first, once she meets everyone at the entrance of the amusement park they agreed to go to, she insists on paying for both herself and steve. literally grabs steve’s wallet from his hand and only gives it back after she pays.

he, of course, only really allows it because she gives him her — in steve’s opinion illegal — pouty puppy eyes that she knows steve can’t say no to.

afterwards, once they all enter and the kids disperse to the various entertainment with the agreement of meeting up later to eat, steve’s girl drags him away from robin and eddie, who were both sporting knowing grins, to a shooting booth where she proceeds to win, suspiciously easily might he add, a stuffed frog for him.

and then she grabs his hand. albeit hesitantly, but she does. intertwining their fingers and everything.

the entire night was a dream for steve, and unbeknownst to him, for his girl too. she had a plan, you see. his angel was pulling out all the stops, even if she was shy and blushy the whole time— paying for the tickets for both of them was number one. followed by winning steve a stuffed animal, holding his hand, sharing fried oreos and cotton candy (again, paid by her), and going to the photobooth. the ferris wheel would be last, but it’s what happens inside the photobooth that matters.

once inside, steve made sure she was sat on his lap. she payed again. the pictures go a little something like this:

1st pic steve is laughing and she’s looking at him like he’s her dream come true which he is / 2nd pic she pushes forward not being able to wait any longer and quickly presses her lips to his a bit messily / 3rd pic is her looking all flustered and shy and doe-eyed while steve has this dazed look in his eyes and his jaw is dropped / 4th pic is steve grabbing her cheeks and kissing her fully, brows furrowed and all.

steve steals another kiss at the top of the ferris wheel, it was giggling and smiling more than kissing, though.

on the drive home, angel makes a stop at their self-assigned star gazing spot where she officially asks steve to be her boyfriend, all flustered and timid but oh so hopeful. another kiss, a resounding “yes” from her sweet boy, and dropping him off with a quick goodnight kiss ends the night, and steve has never been happier.

the fact she planned this whole night, took a chance, romanced the hell out of him, and was so genuine the whole time, looking to make him smile, just because, had steve on a high unlike any other. no one has ever taken the time to spoil him, to do romantic things for him. he’s not used to reciprocity in relationships, but here this angel is professing her love for him and not only saying it but showing him she means it. best night of his life.

and so their relationship begins.

steve harrington just worships his girl, spoils her continuously, and wants to do everything for her. he is overly affectionate and just obsessed with his baby, pictures of her and with her everywhere on his house, his car, his wallet, maybe even a locket he wears with a copy of the picture of their first kiss on it. steve took the photobooth strip and got the second picture, his angel kissing him for the first time, copied and altered to fit into the locket.

everyone in town just knows steve is entirely whipped and he does not care. he is definitely touch starved for his girl, quite a bit jealous, however, but trusts her so much that it just comes out as a sort of possessiveness that isn’t toxic but something both he and, secretly, his angel enjoy. steve always praises her and wants to take care of her because she’s his sweet little angel girl.

steve is also her first everything— first kiss, first date, first boyfriend, first time… and it drives him insane! something about knowing he’s the only one that’s ever had her and the only one she’s ever wanted just drives him up the wall and gets him so needy. so desperate. so whiney and pouty.

something else about steve as a boyfriend is that he’s his angel’s biggest fan — always praising, always encouraging, always in awe of her. will brag about his baby to anyone. randomly brings her up in conversation because she’s all he thinks about and he’s so proud to be hers.

buying her flowers whenever he can so she’ll give him this wide, square smile of hers that takes over her whole face like she can’t control it and her nose scrunches up a bit and he never wants to look at anything but her.

her stevie is really into pda too, can’t take his hands off of her, but nothing extreme; casual touches and pecks on her nose or temple or lips or cheeks, buries his face in her neck often, hand holding constantly!!!!!!, plays with her hair, is always playing with the delicate ‘s’ pendant on her neck that he gifted her and she never takes off (steve has this proud little smile whenever he messes with it).

then there’s the casual dominance— steve tucks her hair behind her ears, ties her shoelaces for her, adjusts the clasp of her necklace, puts her dainty jewelry on for her, braids her hair because she’s always clumsy with it and she prefers his braids over hers, gives her water so she stays hydrated, remembers her meds for her, adjusts her beanie on her hair when it’s cold and she’s wearing one, wipes chocolate from the corner of her mouth because his baby is a messy eater, pulls on her waist when they’re walking so she doesn’t bump into someone or something because she’s too busy talking and looking at him, spoon feeds her when she’s too tired and sleepy and pouty, brushes her teeth for her too when she’s being his cute little tired baby or is in subspace, brushing her hair and treating her like a little doll, his little doll, and loves to shower with her so he can do it for her, loves to drive her everywhere too. she’s his pretty passenger princess and they both take that role very seriously.

and whenever his pretty baby gets all glassy eyed and needy and blushy for him? he melts.

steve has a daddy kink. major one. and when he finally finds his baby, his person, he starts noticing things she might be into for the sole reason of wanting to be the absolute best he can be for his baby. the thing is, he knows she’s entirely new to this and still a bit nervous and hesitant and shy, so he starts by filing things away in his brain to make sure once she’s ready and the time comes that he can treat her perfectly, and give her everything and anything she wants.

his baby is probably a sub, she must be, with how pliable and soft she gets. for sure has an oral fixation, always giving him little kisses and little bites randomly and pressing his hand to her lips so she can softly mouth at them (but will shy away and get flustered when she notices she’s doing this) (she just loves his hands and he knows). steve’s girl also gets all flustered and her breath hitches when he jokingly calls himself ‘daddy’, so he takes that as a good sign because there’s nothing steve wants more in this world than to be her daddy. only hers. to spoil and care for and love his baby to the best of his ability.

she also loves when he manhandles her, he’s noticed— it’s just that steve really enjoys carrying his baby around, loves feeling needed and loves holding her and having her body pressed to his and have her hold on to him, but also he just wants to do things for his baby, doesn’t want her to tire herself out, ever!

she doesn’t need to walk around all the time because her stevie’s here and he won’t have his baby do unnecessary work when he’s around. whenever he grabs her waist and places her on top of a counter or something and stands between her legs? she gets all smiley. steve also absolutely loves how clearly his touch affects her; she hums and melts into him and gets a bit breathless and just tries to bury herself into him until they become one. lots of cuddles and hugs from behind and just being entirely wrapped in each other while wearing the coziest sweaters under the cuddliest blanket are common occurrences.

the main thing, though… is how steve’s shy little girlfriend quickly becomes obsessed with his bulge. loves when her stevie hugs her from behind so it presses against her, or when he has her sit between his legs with her back to his chest, or any time where her stevie is holding her close. he doesn’t even need to be hard for her to enjoy it, i mean, he shows through his jeans even when he’s soft! and she just always thinks it looks so…soft? and chubby? and she just wants it smushed against her at all times.

it takes steve a while to figure it out, but when he does? he’s relentless! pressing up against his baby all. the. fucking. time. just to see her blush and stutter and get all shy… but she also fucking sighs and relaxes whenever he does it, like it’s such a comfort for her? to feel all of him? like it’s all she’s waiting for at all times. and it drives steve crazy how his cute, shy, introverted, virgin girlfriend who giggles all the time and is always flustered by him and hiding her hot cheeks with her hands and is so… clumsy and tentative and nervous when it comes to any sort of affection (which she only accepts from her stevie) ((she definitely hates touch except his)) (((and he knows it too! was one of the things that proved to him his pretty best friend had feelings for him too when they were ‘just friends’))) can be so desperate to feel his bulge against her.

angel also loves that her stevie boy has huge hands! absolutely massive. could-wrap-one-hand-around-your-entire-neck massive, beautiful, strong, soft hands.. and yeah, both steve and his girl definitely have huge size kinks. huge. they haven’t said so out loud yet, but it shows through their actions. steve loves how obvious the size difference is when they’re holding hands, or when his hand is on her soft thighs. most of the time his baby holds his fingers instead because it hurts a little bit to intertwine their fingers for too long and steve thinks it’s fucking adorable. she’s shorter too, so 😵‍💫 her sweet boy goes crazy. teasing, best friend steve comes out sometimes too when he uses her head as an armrest to tease her, or when he full on picks her up to take her somewhere if she’s being a brat or is too lazy, too tired to move.

steve’s angel loves their size difference. so much. it shows when she hides herself against his chest when it’s cold, when she compares hand sizes because “stevie, the difference is just insane!”, when steve smushes her into the mattress when they start fucking later on. steve notices his angel blush or sigh or break out in goosebumps whenever his hands are involved— i mean, can you blame her? his hands are so pretty. she’s always holding and touching and tracing her fingertips over his palms and pressing kisses, biting softly, sucking on his fingers when she’s restless, fidgety, or sleepy.

using steve as a weighted blanket is a must; helps angel when she’s anxious or having a bad day.

to be continued…

── harmo’s footnotes:

please remember to show your support by reblogging!

masterlist. steve dreams.

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msallurea · 9 months

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Things to manifest because you can pt 2 🎀🧁🌸

Becoming a top model

Sex appeal/pole dancer abilities

Be super strong/fast

Be a famous supermodel

Turning into a fairy on command

Having a fairy godmother/godfather

Being a mermaid/siren

Having your desired beauty

Ability to talk to nature/animals/being a natural bug repellant

Easily remembering trillions of info easily

Never ever failing at anything

Waking up with the perfect hairstyle/outfit

Being a master manifestor/shifter

Controlling time

Being able to grab stars out the sky and turn it to jewelry pieces

Making constellations move

Becoming a queen/king/princess/prince

Having perfect vision

Having magical abilities

Never being sick

Healing global warming

Healing worldwide diseases/sicknesses

Immunity to bullying, abuse, etc, others being immune to bullying abuse etc

Racism/colorism/misogyny/texturism/evil capitalism/negativity/war/slavery/abuse in power/terrible government n school systems/segregation/poverty/workd hunger/mass genocides/shootings/killings/generational trauma etc never existing/erased (my black and POC sisters and brothers in this LOA community baby it's time to stand up but generally just everyone we are all entitled to live in peace as human beings)

That's all folks, I love you darling stay tuned for more ♡ also I need more post ideas comment for any suggestions!

#law of assumption #manifesting #manifestation #neville goddard #affirm and persist

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woso-dreamzzz · 2 months

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Jessie's Girl

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Jessie Fleming x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: The Natural History Museum

The day that Magda and Pernille need to go to some fancy dinner to represent the club, is the same day they take you to the Natural History Museum in London.

Jessie told you about how she went weeks ago and it's all you've been talking about since.

You manage to wear Magda and Pernille down with all your talking until they finally relent and book tickets. You insist on Jessie coming too and, soon enough, you're all crammed on the Tube on your way to the museum.

You're sitting in Jessie's arms, squished like a sardine amongst all the other people. You insisted to your Morsa about booking the tickets at opening time so you could see absolutely everything which is why the Tube is packed right now and Jessie's holding you so you don't get swept away with the crowd.

Morsa's got one hand on the pole and the other on Momma's hip to keep her close as the doors open and more people pile off.

The Tube is loud. Very loud and it grates on your ears slightly so you duck yourself under the collar of Jessie's open jacket to try and block it out. You squeeze your eyes shut super tight too before it's finally your stop and the four of you pile off.

Jessie carries you all the way through the station before setting you on your feet again and letting you hold Momma's hand as you walk the rest of the way.

You're vibrating with excitement as Morsa gets the tickets scanned and then you're in.

It's your first time at a museum and, for a moment, you look like you're going to bolt so Pernille tightens her grip on your hand to make sure you can't escape.

The Natural History Museum is massive and Pernille knows just how easy it is to lose a little kid like you. You haven't hit your growth spurt yet so you're still on the shorter side and you would disappear amongst a big crowd like this too easily for her to be comfortable in letting go of your hand.

"What are you most looking forward to seeing, princesse?" Magda asks as you all stop in the middle of the hall to stare up in awe at the blue whale skeleton suspended from the ceiling.

"Er..." You think for a moment. "Dinosaurs! 'Cause Jessie says they're so cool!"

"Alright." Magda grabs a map from a pile nearby, unfolding it and studying it like Pernille hadn't caught her looking at the online version just last night. "I think we hit zone red first and go through all the stuff about volcanoes and rocks. Then we'll go to green zone and look at bugs and minerals. Then lunch and after that it should be about time for those tickets we booked for the spirit collection and then we'll round it off with mammals and dinosaurs and the gift shop. Sound good?"

Pernille laughs. "It's sweet that you've got everything planned out but I think our kids are already trying to plan out their own route." She tilts her head over to where you and Jessie (who has crouched down to be at your level) are discussing your own plans.

Magda sighs, lifting you up easily so you can't plan a mutiny on her and starts off towards the red zone.

"Morsa," You grunt," Wrong way! Dinosaurs!"

"Dinosaurs are last," Magda insists," Save the best until last."

You frown. "Like best bite last at dinner?"

"Exactly that," Magda says," We'll go look at rocks and volcanoes first and we'll work our way back to the dinosaurs. Sound good?"

You huff. "Fine."

Despite your original annoyance, you do find yourself enjoying the red zone and then the following green zone. Both you and Jessie are kept occupied for nearly fifteen minutes looking at the fossils of old ocean reptiles and Magda and Pernille rest their feet on a bench nearby.

At lunch, you and Jessie share a big bowl of mac and cheese and Pernille nearly laughs at how excited you both seem to explore the museum - even though Jessie went only a few weeks ago.

"Those are animals in jars," Pernille hisses to Magda during the spirit collection tour," We could be mentally scarring her right now."

"She loves it," Magda whispers back as you (and Jessie) listen, enamoured by what the guide is saying," Who knows? Maybe this is going to solve the problem of her wanting a pet. Nothing like a dead animal to put someone off of wanting a live one."

Pernille rolls her eyes. "You're evil. A pet wouldn't kill us."

"She's enough for us right now," Magda laughs.

By the time the mammal section rolls around, you're complaining of tired feet and Pernille swings you up onto her hip so you can rest and reads out the plaques to you.

Or, she tries to, because you keep interrupting to read them for yourself. You've gotten good at reading even though you're yet to go to school.

Magda insisted on starting you early, teaching you the basic principles of sounding out letters and phonetics to help you along.

Frankly, Pernille thinks it's frightening how intelligent you are at such a young age. You're Swedish and Danish bedtime storybooks are getting scarily easy for you to sound out and she shouldn't be surprised that you're applying the same rules to your English.

"What's that mean?" You ask, pointing at the italicised scientific name of the animal you're reading about.

"It's Latin," Pernille replies," Scientists use it to give a fancy name to different species."

"What's Latin?"

"It's a dead language," Jessie jumps in," No one speaks it anymore. It's just used to make scientists look smart."

You think for a moment. "Morsa calls me smart! Can I learn Latin, Momma?"

"Maybe when you're older," Pernille replies indulgently, not at all taking it seriously.

(She'll remember this conversation randomly when a letter comes home when you're sixteen asking if you could pretty please stop signing up for advanced Latin class because the teachers have nothing more to teach you).

Your feet have miraculously recovered from their aches and pains when you get to the dinosaur exhibit and Magda intervenes quickly when it looks like both you and Jessie are going to bolt.

She grabs you both by the hand and makes you fall into step with her.

"You stay where I can see you," She tells both of you equally," You hold each other's hands. You don't run ahead. If you can't hear me talking at a normal volume then you have gone too far ahead. You turn around and come straight back until you can hear me again."

"Yes, Magda."

"Yes, Morsa."

"Good. Remember your rules. Go and have fun."

Jessie shows you all of the dinosaurs, even down to the very little ones and you listen with rapt attention.

It's the slowest Magda and Pernille have seen you move all day, just taking everything in and hanging off Jessie's every word.

You almost don't want to leave and only the promise of a dinosaur at the giftshop gets you to move your legs again.

You browse for a while and so does Jessie, piling her arms up high with dinosaur merch. Magda, admittedly, knew that Jessie was a nerd in the best way possible but this only solidified it.

"No, princesse," Pernille says firmly when she sees you jumping to reach a jumbo triceratops plushie that said it cost sixty pounds," That's too expensive."

"Momma," You whine," Please?"

"I'm sorry," She says," But you know there's a budget on gift shop toys. What does your Morsa say about gift shops?"

"That they're stupidly overpriced and tourist traps for idiots," You repeat dutifully, sounding more and more like Magda that Pernille has to laugh.

"That's right," She says," So pick out something smaller so your Morsa doesn't complain about being conned out of money for the entire train ride home."

You huff in annoyance but ultimately choose an arctic wolf plushie because it's got super soft fur.

It's only twenty pounds but Magda still grumbles under her breath about gift shops being stupidly overpriced.

"Jessie," Magda says as you and her step out of the giftshop," What the hell is that?"

Jessie, at least, is feeling enough guilt to look down bashfully. "It's for y/n."

"Jessie," Magda says again," That's massive."

It's the triceratops you were eyeing up earlier and you nearly take Jessie to the ground from the force of the hug you give her.

You sit in Jessie's lap during the (much emptier) train ride home and you crash out asleep for your very delayed midday nap.

You stay asleep when you change trains. You stay asleep during the car ride and you stay asleep as Magda and Pernille get ready for their dinner tonight.

Jessie's your babysitter for the hours that they're gone for and you wake up as Magda and Pernille are a few minutes away from leaving.

"Momma," You whine," Don't go."

While your separation anxiety isn't as bad when you've been told in advance about things, it's still present and you still sniffle a little as your mothers gives you goodnight hugs and kisses because you'll be tucked up in bed by the time they get back.

You still sitting in front of the front door with Momma's Linköping jumper and Morsa's blanket.

For half an hour, Jessie doesn't understand how to help you. She's been warned about this explicitly, about how much you miss Magda and Pernille when they're gone.

She thought she would be fine but it's clear that this isn't something she can fully pull you out of.

So, Jessie turns on the tv, playing a random animated movie and just sits with you for support.

Somewhere along the way, you wiggle into her lap, leaning your back against her front and holding her hands around your belly for security.

"Do you want a drink?" Jessie asks quietly.

It takes hours for her to coax you into being a bit more like yourself, gradually shifting further and further away from the door until you're both sitting on the sofa again.

You're lying on Jessie's front, head lying pillowed on her chest as you stare longingly at the door.

One of Jessie's hands is under your top, gently drawing patterns on your back while the other plays with the little baby hairs you have at the base of your scalp.

It's nice. Not quite like how Morsa and Momma do it but enough for it to make you go all limp and boneless in her arms.

It's dark when Magda and Pernille come in from their dinner. Magda drove so Pernille was able to get a little tipsy on just one too many wines.

It's dark. The moon and stars are out but the light in the front room is open and the tv is still blaring some random show that's being shown gone one in the morning.

Jessie's asleep on the sofa, still in the clothes she worse to the museum. One of her hands is dangling on the floor, her knuckles skimming the carpet while the other is wrapped around your back.

You're still in your museum clothes too but you look perfectly content and happy, fast asleep on Jessie's chest.

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #The Big Adventures Universe

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subarunanyo · 8 months

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#ポールプリンセス!!#pole princess anime #lilia saijo #pole princess!!#polpri #ポールプリンセス‼

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chrollohearttags · 4 months

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I heard you wanted some muscian Eren thirst so I'll do my best:

What if Ms. YN (back before she & Eren got matching/couple tattoos) got a custom temporary tattoo of her man's name & placed it like a tramp stamp? What if that night when she's performing with her crew she posts some spicy pics flashing the fake tattoo waiting for Eren to notice.

What if he noticed & when she gets home home & starts to undress she feels his hand travel up her body, bending her over the counter as he lifts her shirt to see his name just above her ass? Now YN's gone & awaken his need to mark her. Poor thing, she didn't expect him to damn near break her but she plans to surprise him with a cute lil permanent "E" on her ankle if this is the reaction a fake tattoo got. She ends up walking funny the next day for sure.

OMG BABES!! you’re an absolute genius 😭 I love this so bad chdkhdkd

because imagine…you’re on tour, traveling the country or it’s your first time performing internationally. Either way, you’ve been apart from Eren for quite some time. Although dancing on stage and living the dream with your girls is amazing, you miss your husband! Neither of you are strangers to extended periods of separation due to work. Long nights on the road, weeks at a time in different locations that wasn’t the home you shared together. It admittedly took its toll, in many forms…

“Yes, baby..I miss you too. I miss you so much..”

“So come home already. Please, (y/n)..I need you.”

the shrill cries and whiny pleas spilling from your beloved, EJ. The sound of the mega star rapper’s moans pouring from your phone’s speakers as he stroked himself on the end. That tight fist enclosed around his cock as he played the very vivid imagery of your previous nights together in his mind. It was quite apparent that he wasn’t taking too kindly to his wife being thousands of miles away from him. Watching you vicariously through a phone screen as he surveyed that beautiful body. Once twirling on the pole half nude and shrouded in glitter and now, completely naked and on full display for him. So egregiously horny with no shame for his blatant submission. Drooling and bucking his hips up into his enclosed fingers..

“Baby..I can’t..soon as I get home though. You know imma take care of you, daddy. Imma give you what you need..”

a statement he intended for you to follow through on. Because in the days since that very salacious phone call, he’d hand nothing but time and unbridled obsession on his hands..carefully surveying and watching your Instagram account like that of a hawk. Breaking his very own conditions on social media just to get a peak of his princess..his gorgeous wife who was fresh off of a performance with one of his respected ‘colleagues’, who’d joined the tour as well. Spinning around that metal pole with six inch Pleasers twirling in the air. A sight that he loved to witness. But alas, Eren would be met with another one. One far more savory and the catalyst for his greed and lust. The same greed and lust he’d undoubtedly take out on you the second you touched down back at the shared Miami estate!..

“You gonna give me what I need, right? That’s what you said?..so do it, give me that fucking pussy!”

tearing and ripping you out of your clothes before you could even so much as reach the staircase! Folding you over the kitchen counter with a rough hand scaling the curvature of your back. His open palm smacking roughly against your plump ass with heavy slaps…he was relentless! However, the reason for his sudden aggression wasn’t just the fact that he missed you. No!..but rather, the aforementioned sight had awoken something serious in him. The need to make love..the need to mark and claim you like that of a primal animal!

“..Rennn! Okaaay, fuck! Take it, please..”

because what he saw was a rather interesting piece of ink riddling your skin. A tattoo…and one of his name to be more specific! Something he was blissfully unaware that you had obtained. The fact alone that you had did so and behind his back nonetheless had Eren ready to pound that that tight pussy and fill it with every spilling drop of his cum until you couldn’t even walk straight. “You’re so sneaky, baby. I like that shit..didn’t think I’d see it, did you?” taunting mercilessly as he begins to rut his hips into your backside. The thunderous claps of your asscheeks against his pelvis with fluid yet deep strokes, one sharper than the next. All you could do was maintain that perfect arch and grasp for the marble countertop with all your strength to bear the sharp thrusts. But it wasn’t a reaction of misery. You loved it! You loved seeing him become so riled up at the thought of having you stamped with his seal. Clawing his fingernails into your waist and tugging you back with sharp gasps hissing in your ear.

“Tell me it’s mine, baby. Let daddy know who that shit belongs to..” the pure sex appeal dripping from his voice like that of honey. But he didn’t have to take your word for it. Because after countless rounds of rough and filthy lovemaking in every inch of the house. Taking you from the kitchen, the staircase and even the upstairs balcony for all the nights of pent up sexual frustration, you’d find yourself stumbling lopsidedly to the tattoo parlor. The shop where he’d gotten countless pieces on his own body done. Sitting upright in a chair as the artist engraved a single capital ‘E’ on your skin; right next to the diamond tennis anklet with his initials on it. Simply smirking at the thought of his reaction…and you didn’t have to wait long. Because nightfall would come around and you’d find yourselves engaging in another bout of steamy sex. This time in the comfort of your bedroom with R&B faintly thumping from the TV..pale red lighting illuminating the room and his chiseled body hovering over you. Placing tender kisses along your calf as he hoisted your leg up to his shoulder. Those movements getting lower as his rings grazed your skin. He’d whisper sweet nothings to compliment those pecks, telling you how beautiful you were but his reaction would turn from merely elated to all but ecstatic when he spotted it…

“You like it?..”

being met with a toothy smirk and the faint glint of his silver slugs on the bottom row of his teeth staring back at you. That was most certainly an understatement because he’d prove to you just how much he loved seeing you rock his name. Both physically and metaphorically..

“..that’s my girl..”

and soon, everyone else would too!

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cherienymphe · 2 years

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The Dragon’s Den (Daemon Targaryen x Reader)

WARNINGS: NON-CON, loss of virginity, kidnapping

➥ banner by @maysdigitalarts | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

summary: your engagement to Laenor Velaryon is abruptly cut short when Daemon Targaryen steals you away.

The prince’s horse was slow to trot towards where you sat, his dragon shaped helmet resting atop his head haughtily. It was a cool autumn day, the promise of winter in the air, and you ran your hand along your arm. Jousting tournaments had never held much of your interest, much too violent for your tastes, but you did not want to offend your betrothed and future family.

Said young man was seated next to you, his arm brushing against yours as you shifted under the weight of a gaze that did not belong to your intended. You glanced away, only briefly, before your attention was forced towards the front once more. The silver-haired prince had paused in his journey, and his lilac gaze rested on you as your eyes met his.

“Might I request the favor of my beloved cousin’s future bride?”

His words should not have shocked you, but in all the jousting tournaments you had been forced to attend, not once had anyone ever asked for your favor. You realized that your hesitation was bordering on rude, and so you glanced towards Laenor, your future husband, and only stood when he sent you a small but encouraging smile. The crown of roses felt heavy in your hand as you descended, approaching the prince who had so humbly asked for your favor.

Prince Daemon Targaryen certainly lived up to every rumor you’d had the misfortune of hearing. He was bold and cunning and almost brutally honest to a fault. The day in which you arrived, he had been the only one to fail in greeting you. After all, how could he when he was, as princess Rhaenyra had so eloquently put it, ‘knee deep in whores’? She spoke much more candidly than you, and you had laughed.

Prince Daemon’s absence had not offended you.

You looked down at him with a small, polite smile, gingerly offering him the flower crown. He took his time in reaching for it, the barest of playful smirks on his pink lips. It was a simple request of your favor, but like many times the prince had addressed you since your arrival, you felt like that was not all it was.

“I wish you luck, prince Daemon,” you told him, letting the floral arrangement slide onto his jousting pole. “May you walk away victorious.”

He held your gaze with a nod, and when you sat back down, you released a breath you had not realized you were holding. You made yourself as comfortable as you could be in these circumstances and tried not to focus on the display of violence before you. Your gaze found your lap instead as you did not want to see any more evidence of prince Daemon’s brutality when he already unnerved you enough as is.

What a rare little dove you have found.

Even now, you thought it a strange way to compliment Laenor on the match. What else had you been able to do but smile? So, you did, even thanking him, that smile only faltering slightly when he took your hand and brought the back of it to his lips. They had been soft against your skin, and you were still convincing yourself that they had not lingered that long.

The sound of a screeching horse followed by a loud thud drew your attention. Your stomach turned at the sight of prince Daemon’s opponent trapped beneath his animal. He had won, that much was clear, but despite the sound of applause that surrounded you, you could not bring yourself to join in. You leaned in towards Laenor, telling him that you felt unwell before insisting he remained.

He did not listen, and a large part of you felt warmed by his insistence on leaving with you. A guard was close by as you both made your exit, and you did not spare another glance as prince Daemon basked in the praise.

“You are not much for violence.”

You looked at Laenor with a smile before shaking your head.

“I am a bit softhearted that way,” you chuckled. “…and weak stomached.”

He laughed with you.

“Daemon has certainly taken a liking to you.”

His comment seemed to come out of nowhere, and you faltered, throwing him a look that he evidently found amusing.

“I mean nothing by the comment, I assure you. Daemon is certainly…Daemon, but to me it seems like he’s officially welcoming you to the family. You would only need to worry if he did not acknowledge you, at all.”

“How relieving…”

You looked away, studying the structures around you. It was all so different from your home, and you wondered when you would grow used to it

“I do have a lot of respect for Daemon though…”

Laenor’s tone had you looking to him only to find his gaze already on you.

“…and I would trust him with you.”

He did not say it plainly, but you both knew what he was hinting at.

You were sure that when your parents arranged a marriage for you with Laenor Velaryon, they did not imagine that the young man’s romantic tastes lied elsewhere. Although your marriage would not be a true marriage due to your lack of certain body parts, and too much of others, you still looked forward to it for Laenor was kind and respectful and proved to be a great friend.

That was more than most women got.

“Prince Daemon…overwhelms me,” you replied, keeping it respectful. “No disrespect to you and your love for him, but if I were to take a lover, there is little doubt in my mind that it would not be him.”

Your future husband laughed at that, taking no offense. The sound made your heart clench because in truth, your wariness of prince Daemon had much more to do with than simple overwhelming. Your eyes found your feet as you walked, and you shuddered at the memory of a violet gaze.

Prince Daemon’s way of welcoming you to the family was certainly interesting.

It did not matter where you were, but he always seemed to find you. If princess Rhaenyra had her bard show you a song near her favorite tree, it no longer surprised you to look over your shoulder and find her uncle standing watch. A simple lesson about the history of Old Valyria from your future mother-in-law as you sat outside, and you could look over and find the prince adjacent to you on the other side.

Even your solitude was not sacred.

You read your books in your chambers now.

Only time would tell if you looked for comfort outside of this marriage, but you knew that it would not be with the Rogue Prince.

“I believe that I owe you my gratitude.”

You were startled but composed yourself in time to face the white-haired man before you. His dark attire stood out against his fair hair and skin, peculiar-colored eyes popping under the glint of the sun. You had not even heard him approach, and you had long wondered if he simply moved that way or if it was intentional.

You only just registered his words as he fell into step beside you.

“Gratitude? What for?”

There was a hint of smile on the prince’s face, and you struggled to hold his gaze. He often looked at you like you were the most precious thing he had ever seen, and not in a way that was kind. You felt incredibly small around him. Incredibly…stupid.

“For the victory in my match, of course.”

You forced a laugh at that, looking away.

“I find it hard to believe that had anything to do with me. Laenor speaks highly of your skills, so you would have won that match with or without my favor,” you told him with a shrug.

A deep hum escaped him, and it almost sounded tinged with humor.

“…and what else does Laenor say about me?”

You felt as if you were being baited, only you did not know how.

“Your talents in combat mostly. I think he looks up to you a great deal,” you quietly replied. “It’s sweet.”

You continued before prince Daemon could say another word.

“I am actually on my way to have tea with him, right now. It is relieving to have a husband who will also be a good friend.”

The man beside you laughed at that, and you frowned at him.

“Yes, because that is what marriage is all about. Friendship,” he mused with a small sneer.

Your frown deepened.

“I hear that you have a wife. Do you not at least enjoy her company?”

That only made him laugh harder.

“No,” he drawled. “My bronze bitch was not of my choosing and where she resides, the men are known to fuck the sheep instead of the women. The sheep are far prettier, this I promise you.”

His words had your eyes widening for a multitude of reasons, and for a brief moment you had allowed yourself to forget how much you did not care for prince Daemon.

“How awful,” you breathed. “I never bought into the idea that marriage is simply a duty and destined to be a miserable one at that.”

“Oh, but it is.”

He had stopped, forcing you to do so as well, and you blinked at him as he stepped closer.

“Marriage is a political contract with a purpose to form alliances and strengthen houses,” he lowly told you, tilting his head at you like you were an ignorant child.

You jumped a bit when he reached for your hair, the sheer shawl on your head slipping down from the movement. Prince Daemon’s gaze was drawn to the movement, and you were frozen in place as he stepped closer, studying you in the same way you knew he often did when you were not looking.

“It is a duty, but outside of that…we fuck who we want and take out fill of whomever we want,” he whispered.

You moved to step away when he reached for the light fabric on your shoulder, gently pulling it back atop your head, adjusting it to his liking. You swallowed when he evenly met your gaze again.

“You best hurry along. I am sure you do not want to keep Laenor waiting.”

You did just that without hesitation, arm brushing against the fabric of his clothes as you did so.

Laenor spoke nothing of your tardiness, he was easygoing that way, and you were thankful. You apologized, nonetheless. If he noticed how uncharacteristically quiet you were, then he made no comment. You were thankful for that more than anything else because you were not sure you would be able to lie to him, and how were you to tell him that the cousin he worshipped made you uncomfortable in ways that even you had a hard time deciphering?

When Laenor threw you a mischievous smile, you knew what tonight would entail.

He often snuck you into the heart of the city at night, showing you what life was like outside of these walls. The first night, your nerves had gotten the better of you, and it had come to an early end. You had profusely apologized to which Laenor had brushed off. Even back home, you had been horribly sheltered, and so in an effort to remedy that, you had convinced him to sneak you out for a second time.

When you eventually made it back to your chambers to change, you stopped in your tracks at the sight of flowers on your bed. You surmised that Laenor had sent them at first before you realized that they were not just any flowers, but roses. Nor were they just any roses, but upon closer inspection, they were fearfully familiar.

A familiar crown of roses laid in the center of your bed, and your lips parted, a shiver traveling through you.

You supposed that prince Daemon had more right to any room here than you did, but the thought of him in your chambers did not sit right with you. It would do no good to question the guard on why he had been let in. That left no explanation as to why he had returned this to you though. It was not customary, unheard of, in fact, and your confusion and wariness grew.

You did not mention the strange occurrence to Laenor after sneaking out through a hidden passageway. His mood was much too contagious, and you would rather forget it for the time being anyway. Laenor’s hand was tight around yours as he led you through the dense crowds, catchy music filling your ears and buzzing through your body. Seemingly pulling some coins out of nowhere, he bought you some ale.

He let out a light laugh when you coughed.

“Still not used to it, eh?”

“Perhaps, one day soon,” you told him, voice strained.

He happily took it from you, drinking the rest, and you swallowed when your eyes passed over a couple in the shadows. It was not the first time you had seen such open displays of lovemaking here, but you were sure it was something you would never get used to. You quickly looked away, eyes finding the ground as you focused on where you put your feet.

Laenor took you to a play, a pastime you had quickly come to realize they loved. A dance performance was after that, the drum solos thudding in time with your heart. You reared back a bit, a smile on your face when a man spit fire out of his mouth, and you joined in with the clapping, awestruck.

When you glanced around, flames briefly glinted off hair that was so distinctly bright. For a moment, your heart skipped a beat, and once you blinked, it was gone. That did not stop you from looking around though, much too distracted to notice the small fight that was beginning to break out. While you tried to convince yourself that you had not seen prince Daemon Targaryen, the crowd seemed to rush at you all at once as the violent displays grew.

Laenor pulled on your hand, and you reached for him with your other just as the crowd separated you. People were going everywhere, and the emptiness on your hand made your heart race. You could hear your future husband calling your name, and you struggled to follow the crowd and find him. The sound of metal piercing flesh was unmistakable, and you struggled to swallow your panic.

People were running every which way, and you frantically looked around. You might have attempted to head back to the castle, but you could not even tell which way was which. You were on the steps, and to your left, you could see men fighting, and to your right was a mess of bodies trying to push past each other.

You stuck to the walls, trying to avoid getting sucked in to either when a hand covered your mouth, and an arm snaked around your frame, pinning your arms at your side.

You were pulled into a small alcove in the wall, a firm chest pressed to your back as the stranger held you tightly. His hand covered both your mouth and nose, silencing your terrified gasp and yelp. His arm kept you pinned to him, and your heart leapt in your chest as you struggled for only a moment before a familiar voice shushed you.

He was the last person you wanted to see, but in these circumstances, you were thrilled.

His hand slowly slid away from your mouth, cupping your chin with long fingers grazing your neck. He shushed you again, a soothing sound as his other arm moved, hand traveling towards where your heart raced. You were sure that he could feel it against his palm, and you felt his face pressed into your hair from where your hood had fallen in the commotion.

“The way your heart beats…it is a wonder you are still standing.”

His lips brushed your neck as he said this, breath hitting your skin. Still fighting to calm down, you reached up and curled your hands around his arm.

“Prince Daemon… Laenor…I lost him,” you breathed. “We must find him.”

“Laenor knows these streets like the back of his hand. He will be quite alright. You, on the other hand…”

His hold on you was still tight, and you were just about to suggest leaving when a man fell onto the steps before you. It was as if you blinked, and suddenly a rusted piece of metal was imbedded into his neck. A shuddering gasp escaped you, and you hurriedly turned your head away, eyes tightly shut.

Prince Daemon tightened his arm around you, fingers splayed over your heart before turning you both around. Your forehead grazed the wall as he trapped you between it and him. His fingers brushed along your neck, just underneath your jaw, and you finally opened your eyes to stare at the wall.

You could smell the herbs that had been put into his bath water, still clinging to his skin and hair. His silver locks brushed along your shoulders and arm as he pressed himself against you, his breathing falling in sync with your own, chest rising and falling with yours. You could hear the man dying next to you, and you shuddered.

“That could have easily been you,” the prince murmured, and his words made you grow cold.

He let go of your jaw, tracing patterns against your neck instead, and you lost track of how long you both hid there. You tried not to give it much thought that you were hiding with Daemon Targaryen, the prince pressed against you so firmly that you could probably be mistaken for lovers. You could both feel and hear his breath in your hair, and there was a moment where you heard him deeply inhale.

When the commotion had finally died down, he stepped back, pulling you with him. His arm was still beneath your chest, the other coming down to curl around your waist as he forced you along.

“Do not look down,” he ordered, and there was no need for him to tell you twice.

The stench of blood was heavy in the air.

When you made it back, approaching one of the back exits of the castle, you saw Laenor. He looked relieved at the sight of you, eyes wide as he rushed down to meet you both. Prince Daemon slowly released when Laenor reached for you, almost reluctantly so, and you dazedly turned to thank him, leaning into Laenor.

“Thank you, Daemon. I am indebted to you, truly,” Laenor said, briefly checking to make sure you were alright.

The prince merely hummed in response, violet eyes meeting yours, and glinting in a way that made you realize how relieved you actually were to be out of his arms. His lips twitched with the beginnings of a crooked smile, and it was only when Laenor snuck you back into your chambers did you realize you never asked his cousin about the flowers.

Caraxes slept soundly before you, his breath hot and warming your face, fluttering your dress. He was much larger than Seasmoke, much more terrifying too, and you swallowed down a humorless chuckle. How funny it was to be marrying into the house of the dragon, a family of dragon riders, and you were deathly afraid of every one.

Your eyes roamed over his red scales in awe. It was not as if you had not witnessed the prince riding him before, but he was so far away then and looked so much smaller in the sky. Even though you were still rather far away, the sheer size of him was not able to be put into words. With a dragon such as this on his side, you did not know how anyone ever got the courage to stand up to prince Daemon.

Just then the beast shifted, his loud breathing halting as he slowly opened his eyes. Your own widened in fear, heart dropping to your stomach. Caraxes lifted his head slightly, and your lips parted, softly exhaling before realizing that it was not you that had triggered his awakening.

“Magnificent…isn’t he…?”

The dragon’s rider spoke from behind you, and you looked over your shoulder to find him leaning against the wall. His gaze fondly rested on his dragon before it traveled to you, eyes narrowing just the slightest as he studied you. You wondered how long he had been there.

“He is that,” you eventually agreed.

Before you could say anything else, the prince pushed himself to stand straight before striding towards you, white hair fluttering around his shoulders. You noted that he looked dressed for a ride. He walked as if he were going past you, but you stumbled when his hand reached out to grab your arm.

“Wait-.”

You cut yourself off, digging your feet into the stone beneath them, and prince Daemon stared at you.

“What are you doing?”

“Come,” was his simple reply, tone leaving no room for argument.

His strength was revealed to you when he pulled you along with ease, and you could not stop yourself from hiding behind him partially when Caraxes lifted his head more. Your free hand gripped his arm, the one that held your left one, and prince Daemon briefly glanced at you over his shoulder.

“Does he frighten you?” he mockingly asked, a small smirk on his lips.

“If I told you no, it would be a lie, so…”

You looked away from him and back to the dragon before you.

“Fear is a simple way of putting it,” you continued. “He is beautiful and majestic, and all of those things…but if he wished it, he could kill me instantly, and there would not be a thing I could do about it.”

You stared into Caraxes’ eye.

“Yes, he terrifies me, but I also revere him. Like…like a god,” you whispered.

When you glanced at the prince, his gaze was already on you, and his smirk grew the longer he stared at you.

“He will not harm you,” he told you, slowly forcing you closer.

You wanted to ask him how he was so sure of such a thing, but you remembered princess Rhaenys, your future mother-in-law, explaining to you how dragons and their riders were connected like one. Was prince Daemon so sure Caraxes would never hurt you because he would never hurt you? You did not believe that.

No, you did not think that the prince would stab you or hit you…

…but there were other ways for a man to harm a woman.

“Slowly,” he gently urged, pressing your hand to the dragon’s hide.

You took a deep shuddering breath when Caraxes moved his head, forcing you back just a tad. Prince Daemon’s hand covered yours, keeping it in place, and you watched as the beast slowly blinked, as if he enjoyed it. He blew a breath, disrupting your hair and moving your dress with it.

“He likes you,” the prince whispered from behind you.

His chest grazed your back, and you swallowed.

“What a relief,” you breathed.

The man behind you chuckled at that, and you felt frozen in place as he left. You faintly noted the sound of clanging metal, and Caraxes continued to stare at you. You slowly pulled your hand away when he lifted his head more, and as the dragon seemed to stretch, you realized that prince Daemon had unchained him. A question must have been in your eyes when he rounded the dragon.

“I take it my cousin has never taken you on a ride…”

Your eyes widened, and you felt almost physically ill at the thought.

“No,” you answered with a shake of your head. “…and I have no…”

You trailed off when prince Daemon reached for you, forcing you along.

“Prince Daemon, I cannot-.”

“We are to be family soon,” he hummed, forcing you closer to the dragon. “Drop the titles.”

It came out harsher than you would have liked, and you frowned.

“Daemon…I do not want-.”

You cut yourself with a slight hiss, Daemon’s grip almost painful on your wrist. You were shaking, and he rubbed your arm as he forcibly guided you up onto the beast. You trembled the whole way, and even if you gathered the courage to get back down, Daemon was close behind. He climbed up behind you, a firm hand on your waist as he settled himself on the saddle behind you.

“Daemon…”

The prince seemed to ignore your protests, grabbing the reigns, painfully close as his hair brushed your shoulders. When Caraxes began to move, you were forced to hang on. You swayed as he walked out into the sun, and your heart had yet to settle in your chest. In fact, it only sped up, and you felt like it was going to explode as Caraxes climbed the Red Keep and took flight.

The wind whipped by you, and on instinct, you closed your eyes. It was hard to even fathom how high up you were. You held on tight, skin straining over your knuckles, and you finally opened your eyes. It did not seem real at first, almost like a dream, and then your lips parted in awe.

The city and all its inhabitants were so tiny as Caraxes soured over them. You did not know if sitting on his back made him appear larger or smaller than when you had been facing him. The air felt cool against your face, and you had almost forgotten about prince Daemon entirely until he shifted, chest brushing against your back.

The longer Caraxes stayed in the air, the more your fear waned. It was a task to keep your eyes on one thing at once, so enamored with how the world looked from the view of a dragon. Daemon guided Caraxes so close to the water that the flap of his wings caused a light spray, wetting your face, and as much as you had come to enjoy the experience, you were relieved when Caraxes seemed to be landing.

He circled a giant dark castle, and if your memory served you right, then this was what princess Rhaenys had described as Dragonstone. When Caraxes landed, one of Daemon’s hands gripped your waist as you both swayed, and he continued to hold you as he helped you down. Still unsure about where you were, you asked him.

“We are at Dragonstone,” he told you, a small smile on his face as he stroked Caraxes.

You looked around in wonder, taking it in before Daemon called for you. For some reason, the sound of your name leaving his lips had you flinching, and when you turned to face him, he held a gloved hand out towards you. Looking around and realizing there was not much choice, you reached for his arm as you approached him.

Caraxes was left to his own devices as you went inside, and you briefly looked over your shoulder at him with a slight frown.

“What do dragons eat?” you wondered.

Evidently, Daemon found your question amusing for there was a humorous smirk on his lips when you looked at him. When he turned his head to look at you, lilac gaze holding your own, his eyes glinted in a way that spoke of a joke that you did not understand.

“Whatever they want,” he lowly told you.

He stared at you for what felt like a long time. You looked away, supposing that made sense, and accepted this impromptu tour of Dragonstone. The fact that you were alone with Daemon only just registered to you as earlier with Caraxes hardly counted to you. There were a few guards around, and the further you walked into the castle, the more your nervousness started to grow.

“We should be returning, now. I had intended to meet with princess Rhaenys,” you told him.

Daemon simply smirked at you, and you blinked at that.

“Such a dutiful daughter-in-law,” he mused although it did not sound like a compliment falling from his lips. “…and what an even more dutiful wife you will make.”

You did not know how to respond to that, so you simply did not. When two guards granted you both entrance into a room, you lingered near the door after Daemon had all but pulled you inside. You looked around at the spacious chambers, eyes trailing to the large windows on the other side.

“It is quite beautiful, isn’t it?”

He was referring to the view, and you nervously smiled.

“Yes, I suppose. I really must-.”

“Tell me,” he interrupted. “Has my cousin made a woman of you yet?”

You blanched at the personal and vulgar question, looking away with a scoff. Daemon found it funny, grinning at you when you looked back to him.

“No, I imagine he would not. You are one cock short in order for him to take you to bed,” he said, pouring himself some wine.

You were surprised that he knew that about Laenor, and you cleared your throat.

“My future marriage bed is hardly any of your business. This has been…pleasant, but I really must-.”

“I disgust you.”

He said it so surely that you did not even think to deny it for it was true. He drank his wine and studied you over the rim of the cup. You fiddled with your fingers.

“You find great pleasure in things that…unnerve me,” you chose your words carefully.

“Such as violence.”

It was more of a statement than a question, and he continued when you remained quiet.

“I recall how quickly you left the jousting tournament when I knocked that poor excuse of a knight off his horse,” he chuckled.

You felt like you were being toyed with, and you did not like it.

“You were quite cruel in how you went about it. Much like you are being now. I do not know why you have brought me here, but-.”

“I have brought you here because I want you here…”

His tone gave you pause, and the way he stared you down scared you.

“I… I do not-.”

“My dear cousin can easily find some other woman to play house with,” he waved off, and your jaw dropped.

“Excuse me?”

“What a waste you would be to him,” he said, walking towards you. “Someone as rare as yourself.”

He grabbed your hand, but not without a fight from you, and you dug your feet into the floor.

“I must go back!”

“…and how will you get back?” he rounded on you with a mocking smile. “Do you think that you could ride Caraxes? Do you think you know the way back?”

He softly laughed at you, pulling you closer.

“Daemon-.”

He kissed you then, soft lips covering yours and shocking you. He did not allow you to pull away, and your eyes watered as his intentions became clear. One hand pressed into the back of your neck, the other still holding one of yours, both keeping you in place. You felt dazed as he ravished you, touching you in ways that you had never been touched.

You were trembling, and your feet tripped over one another as he pushed you further into the room. It was not hard to see that he was moving you towards the bed, and tears kissed your eyes. Would he really force you? Was this the same cousin that Laenor looked up to and spoke so highly of?

Daemon was equal parts desire and equal parts vicious as he tore at your dress. You were a sobbing and squirming mess beneath him as you attempted to fight him off, and although you tried not to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry, it could not be helped. The reality of what was about to happen, and your future afterwards, was staring you right in the face.

It seemed so simple to him to just…steal you away. Had he though? Yes, you had climbed onto his dragon with him, some might say, but under duress is what others might say. You had not known that a simple dragon ride was truly a ruse for a kidnapping. Despite everything that you had heard of Daemon, it seemed that you had given him too much credit.

His relation to Laenor was not a reason to trust him, after all.

When you gasped in pain, nails drawing blood from his alabaster skin, you wanted to curse him. Your chest arched and your legs trembled, and it was impossible to blink the tears away fast enough. Your core protested at every push of his hips, and you turned your head away. His lips found your cheek before traveling to your jaw, trailing kisses along your neck. All the while, he thrust into you, hands on you and grunts leaving his mouth with every movement. You did not know if your gradual slickness was from blood or something else entirely, and you were afraid of either answer.

Your engagement to Laenor was finished. Over, and you did not want to think on how this would affect Daemon’s standing with House Velaryon. After all, he had stolen and defiled their son’s betrothed, and if there was some small part of you that hoped this was all one big jest or even a situation you could come from unscathed and with your engagement intact, it was long gone.

The longer Daemon pushed himself into you at a torturously slow pace, bare chest brushing yours, the more you could feel that flame growing in the pit of your stomach. Your eyes remained on the wall as he slid his cock in and out of you, deep groans and hisses leaving his lips. Occasionally his tongue would curl to say something in High Valyrian although you knew not what it meant. You paid no mind to any of it, wanting this to be over.

You squeezed your eyes shut when Daemon’s hands found yours, threading your fingers together. You pushed against them, but he was stronger, forcing them against the pillow on either side of your head. His breathing was heavy, yours the same, and he seemed to lose himself in the feel of you.

It was hard to say how long Daemon remained on top of you. Hands on yours then on your back and waist and thighs. He could not seem to stop touching you, and when he finally stilled, spilling himself into you, his hands had you pinned down. His lips grazed yours as he came, forcing you to face him, and you did not attempt to hold in your tears.

He would not get off of you, and his light hair formed a curtain around you both when he lifted his face, nose brushing yours. He did not look regretful or ashamed in the slightest, and you imagined that Daemon was known for taking what he wanted. Why should a woman be any different?

He took your hand and forced you to touch his hair before leaning in to kiss you again. He slid your hand down his chest, ghosting over his abdomen, and after a short reprieve, he started to move again. You trembled in trepidation because this time you knew that he was determined to make you come with him.

tags: @xoxabs88xox @readermia @buckybarnesplumwhore @nickyl316h @captainchrisstan @sebabestianstan101 @villanellevi @notyourtypicalrose @coconutqueen21 @hurricanerin @trinittyy @hyoyeoniie @mandiiblanche @doozywoozy @melli0112 @zombiexbody @holl2712 @mansaaay @lipstickstainedred @avengers-goddess @ameliaalvarez06 @kaelibaby @totallynotkaibiased @hanniebee33 @jemimah-b99 @gillybear17 @mannstarkey @lovserrr @aglassoforangejuiceee @emberenchanted @layazul @toystory2wasjustokay @my-baexht-ls @prettymuchboo @asonofpeter @spidey-d00d @cockslutpadalecki @dirtytissuebox @evemarieyl @ventinglation @stopnala @annellie @littleone2223 @itskeishaaaaa @blueicequeen19 @drewsgfduh @ashpeace888 @bibliophilewednesday @lonnie2390147 @1-800-di0r @amanduhh1998 @coldspoons @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @twwcs @breakfastonpluto19 @lovedetlost @pearlsofme @rottenstyx @officialfangirls-blog @untoldgrace @maybanks-luver

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#daemon targaryen x reader #dark!daemon targaryen x reader #hotd fanfic

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