[caileeflavoured]

MAIN MASTERLIST

© caileeflavoured 2026, do not repost, modify or translate!

A SONG OF ICE AND FIRE

ser duncan the tall, daeron targaryen, ser criston cole, aemond targaryen, ser harwin strong

28 YEARS LATER

sir lord jimmy crystal

OUTER BANKS

rafe cameron, topper thornton, jj maybank, barry, ward cameron

THE BEAR

carmen 'carmy' berzatto

STRANGER THINGS

steve harrington, eddie munson, billy hargrove, dmitri ‘enzo’ antonov

ALIEN

tyler harrison, bjorn

GROTESQUERIE

father charlie mayhew

DUNE

paul atreides, feyd-rautha harkonnen

OUTER RANGE

rhett abbott

TOP GUN

bradley ‘rooster’ bradshaw, jake ‘hangman’ seresin, robert ‘bob’ floyd, mickey ‘fanboy’ garcia

BAD TIMES AT THE EL ROYALE

miles miller

THE GRAY MAN

sierra six

SALEM’S LOT

ben mears

EUPHORIA

fezco

WIZARDING WORLD

theseus scamander, newt scamander

MARVEL

joaquín torres, marc spector, bucky barnes, tom holland

DC

bruce wayne

UNCHARTED

nathan drake

THE DEVIL ALL THE TIME

lee bodecker, tommy matson

SUITS

harvey specter

FORMULA 1

lando norris, charles leclerc

[reixlle]

you're out of touch, i'm out of time

[drexmbxys]

[sushiisiu]

ily (avaliable as a print in my pinned)

[lakeybobakey]

Fic Recs

my fav fics that must be shared - all credits to the writers/blogs

༊*·˚Marvel⋰˚☆

Loki Laufeyson

Mint Confetti (one shot) @theleavesofwesteros

Bucky Barnes

Foundations (series) @vunblr Booked Solid (one shot) @blowingbarnes His and Only His (one shot) @salem-s Wanted (series) @vunblr After Hours (one shot) @danysdaughter Sweet Relief (one shot) @mcrdvcks

Tony Stark

An Evening that Undid Him (one shot) @ninihunt

⁺𓄃⋆GOT/HOTD/AKOTSK⋆✴︎˚⚔︎⋆࣪ ִֶָ

.˳·˖✶𓆩GOT𓆪✶˖·˳.

coming soon

𝕾HOTD⚚

coming soon

⋆༺𓆩AKOTSK𓆪༻⋆

Maekar Targaryen

Pretty in Pink (series) @myladysapphire The Lady of Summerhall (series) @sem-ra Blessing of the Seven (one shot) @sylasthegrim In Search of Lost Time (one shot) @sylasthegrim The Daughter (one shot) @thespottedcreature And One More Makes Seven (one shot) @mariposium Jealousy (one shot) @bekkarific My Betrothed (series) @starxs-s Let Me Hear You (one shot) @imgoingtofreakoutnow I Don't Hate You (mini series) @imnotcryingyouare1 Hypnotic (one shot) @ghostlybfgf Starlight (one shot) @siolixz Heart of a Hushed Rabbit (one shot) @samstardust

Baelor Targaryen

In the Shadows of the Red Keep (series) @sem-ra Heavy is the Head (one shot) @sylasthegrim A Quiet Night (one shot) @happilyhertale The Marriage Without Exit (mini series, modern au) @fluttervoid Birth of a Princess (one shot + prequel) @thespottedcreature Backless (one shot) @samstardust Family Headcannon (?) (one shot) @the-darklings

Daeron Targaryen

Them's the Breaks (one shot, modern au) @louloucake The Softening of Daeron Targaryen (one shot) @thequietdomain A Fortnight Apart (one shot) @sansaorgana Modern AU (one shot) @rottenbites Pretty When You Cry (one shot + prequel) @caileeflavoured Furtively (one shot) @silkaurum Intertwined (series) @bucketsofmonsters

Valarr Targaryen

Before the Throne, You (one shot) @thequietdomain A Dragon's Fire (one shot) @mariposium Heart of Mine (one shot) @chuluoyi

Aerion Targaryen

The Odd Fifth (one shot) @catbayunthestoryteller Girl Dad (one shot/head cannon) @boyloveisnteasy

✶𓏲ּThe Pitt꩜ .ᐟ

Jack Abbot

I Can See You (one shot) @dearwalker Nanny! (mini series) @bitters-n-sweets Your Eyes, Twice Over (one shot) @springtyme You Have No Idea (one shot) @geminiwritten Tender is the Night (one shot) @lovebugism Chain of Command (one shot) @hearts4hughes Gorgeous (one shot) @dearwalker Coffee Tables (mini series) @bitters-n-sweets Heat (one shot) @andrewmiinyard

⋆.*ೃ✧Bridgerton ˖ ִ*๑՞

coming soon

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָOuter Banks ་༘࿐

Rafe Cameron

Duke Diaries (series) @obxcc Psych 101 (one shot) @biscuits-and-gracie Southern Rivalries (one shot) @rafeandonlyrafe Wicked Game (series) @rafesbuzzcutseason You Want Me to Pretend? (series) @inthelibrarybtw No One's Ever Had Me, Not Like You (sneak peak/series) @evansbby CEO Rafe + Nanny (one shot, head cannon collection) @moondustbaby

⁺⊹⋆Stranger Things⋆✴︎˚⋆࣪ ִֶָ

Steve Harrington

All I Really Want is You (series, au) @loveshotzz Call the Doctor, Must be Something Wrong with Me! (one shot, au) @cosmiiwrites They Don't Need to Know (one shot) @urmomsgirlie Not so (mini series) @joekeerysbellybutton Slow Hands (one shot) @kill3ill Twin Bed Confessions (one shot) @moondustbaby

Misc.

coming soon

[caileeflavoured]

thank you very much for including me!! 🫶🏼

[solemnscreams]

"You only like him cuz he's hot—" no shit you think I like him for his morals?

[damnikindadontcare]

People actually being shocked that we saw Kronos torture Luke is killing me a little bit, because what do you mean you’re surprised that the guy who famously ate his own children is torturing a 19 year old to do his bidding.

[caileeflavoured]

of red flowers and soft feathers

daeron targaryen x fem!cousin!targaryen!reader

© caileeflavoured 2026, do not repost, modify or translate!

synopsis: A betrothal was a calculated political instrument. Entirely devoid of feelings, emotions, sensations. And it certainly didn't include revelations about shameful desires. Prequel to pretty when you cry.

a/n: really embarrassing how long it took me to write this godawful thing lol I hope the two people waiting for this are not gonna be too disappointed

warnings: 18+, SMUT, masturbation, voyeurism, mentions of periods, reader is of age here!

wc: 2.4k

MAIN MASTERLIST | ASOIAF MASTERLIST

“The realm's stability depends upon strong marital bonds," your uncle Baelor began, speaking formally, entirely as hand of the king, not part of your family. He looks between you and Daeron sitting opposite from each other at the large dining table.

“Therefore, we have decided that you two shall be betrothed, and the wedding ceremony shall be held when the time is right. The announcement shall be made at the dragon feast here at Summerhall in two days.”

When the time is right. You knew when the time would be right. Every head in the room turned towards you, and every head was filled with the exact same thought. 

When the time is right – the moment you’ve had your first flowering.

You’ve known it since you first learned about a woman’s moonblood. You’ve thought about it constantly ever since you’ve had your first bleed. Ever since you begged your septa to keep it a secret so you wouldn’t end up with someone like your mad cousin Aerion, or a distant uncle at least three decades your senior.

You were only twelve back then…

“You know, it’s actually difficult to believe you have not have your first blood yet, cousin,” Daeron whispered across the table, bringing you back to reality.

He looked entirely unbothered by these news as he stirred the arbor in his cup with a quick flick of the wrist, leaning over the table to lower his voice.

“Like… Aren’t you unusually old for a maiden – woman, I dare say – whose flower is not blooming red yet?”

You looked up into his drunken eyes, jaw slightly hanging open in disbelief at your cousin’s words.

“Excuse me?” 

“Well, I just think it’s quite peculiar,” he noted. “Compared to all the women I know…”

“Well, I guess I simply am not like the whores you’re gallivanting with,” you spat back. “Naturally. Since I’m a princess. Not a disappointment.”

Daeron tried not to react to your comment, but you saw the slight twitch in the corners of his mouth as a grin fought to form on his face.

The dragon feast felt like an entirely fabricated event solely for your public humiliation. At the announcement of your betrothal to Daeron, you could see heads turn and hands covering mouths in hushed judgement, not unlike two days ago when your uncle first shared the news.

Daeron the Drunken. And the old maiden who was still waiting for her first flowering. 

Two clearly unfit prospects for a successful Targaryen marriage. Two… leftovers.

But you knew you were better than your cousin. So, if anything, he was the unfit prospect, he was the leftovers, and he an embarrassment to you.

In fact, he was already proving it perfectly as he downed cup after cup after cup of the realm’s finest red arbor wine.

“A bit of public decency would do you well, cousin,” you remarked with a sharp tongue and an even sharper side glance. 

“They’re already talking anyways,” he shrugged, taking another large sip from his wine. “What’s a little extra talk about Daeron the Drunken gonna do?”

“Embarrass me,” you hissed, straightening in your seat and moving away from your betrothed ever so slightly as you rolled your eyes. “Even more than this betrothal already is.” Daeron laughed, shaking his head. “You worry about that bleeding issue of yours.”

“Well, maybe I should just spill some of your beloved wine on my sheets and be done with all this bother. But… seems like you cannot spare a single drop, can you, cousin? Or else I’ll find you licking it off my bed, and the realm’s gonna talk about a lot more than your lust after arbor, eh?”

With that, you stole the cup from his hands and excused yourself from the long table, making your way to the much quieter, much cooler corridors of Summerhall.

The cool air of the hallway wrapped around your heated figure, bringing to the surface an  acute awareness of your rapid heartbeat, and realisations about just exactly how much distress this entire betrothal was causing you. 

Your pulse started racing as you near-stumbled along the wall, a torturing ache between your legs that you didn’t know what to do about. One hand gliding along the stones, the other pressed against your chest, you took deep breaths in and long breaths out. 

“Leftovers, eh?” His voice ripped you from your thoughts as it suddenly appeared behind you.

You turned around, quickly regaining your composure. Never showing any weakness. Not in front of the disappointment.

“I never said that.”

“But you thought it.”

“I wasn’t thinking anything,” you protested, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“Oh, I know you were,” Daeron insisted. “You’re always having some kind of thought in your pretty little head. Always busy making up a witty remark… some… sharp insult, perhaps, for your  beloved cousin.”

You laughed. “My insults are never made-up. Merely true observations.”

He didn’t respond, simply watching you, taking in your entire figure from head to toe. His eyes stopped momentarily when they landed on your corset, clearly observing the way it pushed the soft flesh of your chest up and down with each breath you took.

“You left too early,” he eventually said, casually playing with something in his hands. “The party’s not nearly over.”

You pursed your lips, one eyebrow raised. “I didn’t leave. I merely meant to get some air. It tends to get quite stuffy next to you. Besides, I doubt the party’s ever over for you.”

He took slow, measured steps towards you, closing the distance inch by inch. You flinched, your tough façade slipping slightly, but only for a split second.

“I meant you left too early,” he explained, standing in front of you now, holding open his hand and revealing what he had been fidgeting with. “For this.”

Daeron presented to you a beautiful ring with intricate designs typical to House Targaryen woven around a large ruby. “A gift. To seal the betrothal.”

It was gorgeous, and surely your eyes betrayed you with the way they lit up at the sight of the gemstone’s sparkle. 

“Your hand.” He spoke softly, reaching for your ring finger to slip on the ring. He did so with a cheeky smile on his face. “Looks splendid, cousin.”

You quickly pulled away your hand. “I know. I always do,” you said matter-of-factly, grinning at him when you noticed a trace of an eye-roll.

“Well, I ought to go,” he then said with a quick bow and walked past you.

“Where to? Finding some whore who’s desperate enough?” You called after him, grinning, but only so that he couldn’t see.

But he didn’t answer, didn’t turn around; only shook his head, and this time he was unable to fight that stupid smile from creeping on his face.

You didn’t care much for going back to the feast, either. Sitting there on the dais all by yourself with the seat of your betrothed empty was another embarrassment you didn’t want to have to endure. 

Deciding it was late enough to greet the night and get ready for bed, you made your way back to your quarters.

But even after a hot, relaxing bath, the turmoil of the day and your new responsibilities made it hard to find sleep. And then there was that recurring ache between your legs…

This new sensation you could not quite make sense of. Maybe didn’t even want to.

Because deep down it seemed like your cousin had something to do with it. And you certainly didn’t want that.

“Maybe a leisurely stroll through the halls could help you find some rest, m’lady?” Your lady-in-waiting politely suggested when you paced up and down the length of your bedchamber.

“Should I come with you?” She asked.

“No, thank you. I should like to go by myself. I won’t go far,” you eventually decided.

Once again, the cold air of the corridors welcomed you with a cooling embrace as you made your way along the sleeping quarters. Images of the day replayed in your head like the flipping of a picture book.

The feast, the announcement of the betrothal, the people’s faces and hushed whispers, your cousin without a care in the world, drinking himself to indifference as per usual. 

The humiliation of it all, really. It made your heart race rather than quiet your nerves and lull you to a state of almost-sleepiness.

The hallway was quiet except for your soft steps as you walked past your family’s bedchambers. Everyone was either asleep or still out drinking or fucking whores after the feast. Especially Daeron.

You didn’t even register the faint light coming from his room, or the noise disrupting the rhythm of your steps. Not until you had almost walked past the door.

It stood slightly ajar, just enough to allow a glimpse into his chamber. You stopped with your back to his door, just out of view. You knew you shouldn’t be here, certainly not all by yourself.

But curiosity got the better of you, especially when you noticed the sounds echoing from his room.

You had heard them before. Faintly. During other celebrations and festivals. Always sounding from the tents that men liked to frequent. You knew enough to know what was happening inside.

And you knew what was happening inside your cousin’s room right now.

Soft noises of skin slapping, heavy breathing, the occasional mumbled ‘fuck.’

It was awfully enticing. It accelerated your pulse. It ignited the blood pumping through your veins. It quickened your breath.

You wondered who was there with him, but you didn’t dare sneak a look inside. 

Probably that one whore who was eyeing him the whole time during the betrothal ceremony, you thought, then wondered: Was that jealousy? 

You squeezed your back against the wall seeking the cold of the stones, your head falling back, eyes closed as you listened.

No way. That wasn’t jealousy. That was entirely impossible. You didn’t even want to be with your cousin, so why should you care if he was with someone else?

And then. Your name.

Eyes shooting open in an instant, you felt your heart racing again, and that unfamiliar tingle returning between your legs.

“Fuck, what are you doing to me?” His voice sounded from the room.

Asking yourself that same question, you squirmed in your own skin, knowing you should not linger and listen, yet at the same time you found yourself entirely unable to sneak back to your chambers and pretend this whole thing had never happened.

So there was no one in there with him after all…

…and so your hand travelled down your chest, over the hills of your breasts, gliding down along the soft, thin fabric of your nightdress until it almost reached that aching part between your legs. 

Your fingers seemed to have a mind of its own, entirely divorced from your own consciousness, as they slid past the ache only to bunch up the thin layer of the skirt. Your hand moved back up, pushing the fabric aside just enough to slide down your smallclothes.

You gasped when your fingers connected with your soft and unusually wet folds. Immediately biting your lower lip to stifle any other sounds from escaping your throat you stopped, holding your breath as you listened closely to what happened inside your cousin’s chamber, worried he might have heard you.

“Fuckin– Seven hells,” he whined, almost as if he could sense that you were right outside his door. As if he knew you just discovered yourself, and that he was the reason. 

You pressed your eyelids together, feeling that ache turn into a much stronger tingle as you allowed yourself to move your fingers further inside your heat. It felt–

“So good,” Daeron hummed as if finishing your thought for you. You hummed slightly, almost inaudibly, as you moved your hand back up until it grazed over this small bundle of nerves that made you feel like you were going to explode.

“Fuck, what are you doing to me?” Your cousin’s voice rang from inside.

Breathing heavily through your nose with your chest rising and falling at a rapid rate, you began to draw circles on that one spot. You felt something build up inside of you, that ache between your legs intensifying with each repeated ministration.

Your other hand came up to cup your chest. You didn’t have to think anymore about what to do, it was like your body knew what was right. 

You could feel your taut nipples through the sheer fabric of your dress. The way they rubbed against the thin cotton. How much the sensation of pinching them between your fingers turned the ache in your core into a soft pulsing rhythm.

You hummed in pleasure, barely audible as you pressed your lips together tightly, your breath coming out in short, intense huffs through your nose as you felt your core get tighter and tighter, the juices squeezing through the gaps in between your fingers and running down your thighs, soiling your smallclothes.

Your cousin’s moans got louder as you heard the sound of slapping skin increase. Then, again, your name. Over and over again, mumbled, hissed through clenched teeth, groaned, then dissolved into a string of whines followed by a string of curses to the Seven Gods themselves.

Your hand moved faster, fingers rubbing tighter, legs pressed together with the sticky mess clinging to your thighs as you felt that ache snap and your core squeeze around nothing, leaving you equally satisfied and yearning for more.

Chest heaving, singular beads of sweat trailing down your temple, you rode that high until the pulsing ebbed away. 

Left entirely breathless, with your head falling back against the rough stone wall, you were only granted a short moment of pure and utter bliss until reality came crashing down on you.

Your heart jumped against your ribcage when you heard your cousin walk around in his chamber, his presence on the other side of the wall reminding you of what had just happened. Of what you had done. What he’d made you do.

But most importantly, what this night had revealed.

Daeron wanted you.

He wanted you despite your relentless teasing and taunting. Or maybe… exactly because of it?

Quickly pushing down your skirt just as much as you pushed down those thoughts, you hurried down the hallway back to your bedchamber, swearing to yourself that no one should ever know about tonight…

Least of all Daeron.

[cuntbitchandthebottlemen]

📸: @/nationaltheatre (instagram)

[cuntbitchandthebottlemen]

📍still at the restaurant

[caileeflavoured]

I keep logging into tumblr and click your profile every day and night to see if you have post the new daeron’s fic lol🤓 but i see that you’re busy rn so take you time! i’ll be waiting and tune in for that masterpiece you have in your draft when you’re ready☺️☺️☺️

ummmm but do you have a lil snippet to share with the class? if not that’s okay!

I know logging on must be so incredibly disappointing for you I’m sorry! however I’m slowly getting there and I’m only a couple paragraphs from finishing it so I’m hoping for this week but lately there has always been something interrupting my creative juices 😩

I looked through what I have written so far and technically I have something but the whole fic requires so much context it wouldn’t make sense to post the snippet without the context or any explanation and that would spoil too much 🫠 but rest assured I’m trying hard to have it posted very soon! 🫶🏼

[caileeflavoured]

tw: dub-con/non-con

max hastings doesn’t do love. max hastings likes to keep you as his little accessory, likes to have you as a thing to spend his parents’ money on. max hastings doesn’t really care about you. he tells you he loves you, though. he’ll tell you with presents and flowers and secret dinners. but never with words. max hastings tells you you’re too needy, too demanding, when you ask him if he really loves you. max hastings sends another large bouquet of roses to your house when you’re upset. max hastings is calculated, only apologises when he can benefit from it. max hastings does all these things to keep you just happy enough to use you when he’s too lazy to make the effort to court another girl. max hastings takes what he wants. doesn’t care much for consent. you’re his girlfriend after all, aren’t you? max hastings is obsessed with your body. keeps his hands on you at all times. lets the whole town know you’re his. max hastings would never share, but doesn’t mind fucking other girls. he knows you’ll forgive him every time. you’re too attached to him. his intensity. cause getting attention from max hastings, getting to call yourself his girlfriend, is more than any other girl in little kilton has. so yes, you know max hastings doesn’t do love, but that is a price you’re willing to pay.

[but-i-write-so-i-must-count]

Is this about max hastings the writer bec he's the first person that's popping up when I'm googling max hastings (if it is for Max Hastings the British journalist and Military Historian writer dude then you do you boo)

[caileeflavoured]

I’M CRYINGGGGGGGGGGG

[a-song-for-ages]

NO BUT WHO IS HE WHO IS THE OTHER MAX HASTINGS

[caileeflavoured]

he’s a character from the show a good girl’s guide to murder lol

[caileeflavoured]

tw: dub-con/non-con

max hastings doesn’t do love. max hastings likes to keep you as his little accessory, likes to have you as a thing to spend his parents’ money on. max hastings doesn’t really care about you. he tells you he loves you, though. he’ll tell you with presents and flowers and secret dinners. but never with words. max hastings tells you you’re too needy, too demanding, when you ask him if he really loves you. max hastings sends another large bouquet of roses to your house when you’re upset. max hastings is calculated, only apologises when he can benefit from it. max hastings does all these things to keep you just happy enough to use you when he’s too lazy to make the effort to court another girl. max hastings takes what he wants. doesn’t care much for consent. you’re his girlfriend after all, aren’t you? max hastings is obsessed with your body. keeps his hands on you at all times. lets the whole town know you’re his. max hastings would never share, but doesn’t mind fucking other girls. he knows you’ll forgive him every time. you’re too attached to him. his intensity. cause getting attention from max hastings, getting to call yourself his girlfriend, is more than any other girl in little kilton has. so yes, you know max hastings doesn’t do love, but that is a price you’re willing to pay.

[but-i-write-so-i-must-count]

Is this about max hastings the writer bec he's the first person that's popping up when I'm googling max hastings (if it is for Max Hastings the British journalist and Military Historian writer dude then you do you boo)

[caileeflavoured]

I’M CRYINGGGGGGGGGGG

[itskindofablur]

a man who says grace before eating pussy:

[caileeflavoured]

Claimed by fire was fantastic! Your writing is so beautiful. Thank you for feeding us 👏🏻

omg I totally didn’t see this one sorry. thank you very much!! <3

[caileeflavoured]

Will you write for other akotsk characters like aerion or valarr? I like your daeron’s one <3

thank you! <3

I’m really busy lately and didn’t even get to finish the daeron prequel yet so I’m not really planning any other fics rn. I did have ideas for baelor and lyonel but none for aerion or valarr even though they were my fave characters lol

[thomaslittlegirl-deactivated202]

stress. michael gray

only your presence can calm him. warnings; none. fluff

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

"did you call for me, sir? "

michael's eyes light up when he hears your voice. his tired gaze move away from the papers scattered on his desk to look at your figure.

"yeah, i did." he answers.

slowly, michael slides the chair back. his hand goes to his legs and he pats, indicating for you to take a seat.

you carefully walk up to him and sit on his thighs.

gray looks tired like he hasn't slept in days. the office is filled with half-finished cigarettes and half-empty whiskey bottles.

"do you need something?" you ask quietly.

he shakes his head, looking back at the paperwork he has to review by the end of the day.

there are many, too many papers. he need to have this finished by today and he is not sure he can do it.

thomas continues to pressure him to have everything ready before midnight, it's making him cranky.

"you don't need to do anything." michael says, looking into your eyes as he licks his lips. "just sit here on my lap and look pretty for me."

“michael…” you whine, feeling embarrassed. your boyfriend always knew what to say to make you nervous.

"do you think you can do that for me?" he asks. you nod your head, leaning lightly on his shoulder. "good girl."

soon his attention returns to work, his tired eyes checking everything thoroughly; sometimes you feel his hand caress your thigh or arm, letting you know he's still there.

time seems to go by a little faster now that he has you around him. it feels calmer, more peaceful.

the sweet fragrance of your perfume lulls him as if he were a baby listening to his mother's humming.

he just needs to feel you close so he doesn't give up and leave everything halfway, knowing that he will always have you to lean on when he feels overwhelmed.