Slytherin Boys – They Hurt Your Feelings, this amazing! But now please with an “happy” ending or that they later do realize that they were wrong or smth :)
Slytherin Boys – apologizing after hurting your feelings
Warning: not proofread! Otherwise the boys are pretty tame.
Thank you for kind words and the request! Hope you'll enjoy! ❤️
Mattheo …
… realizes the moment you slam the door that he’s crossed a line and that you wouldn’t take more bullshit from him. For once, the cocky smirk drops from his face.
… sprints after you, catching up to you in the hallway. He grabs your arm tightly, easing his grip slightly when he notices the death-grip he has on you.
… nervously rambles “Wait – just wait. Please.”
… looks genuinely distraught – you almost felt bad. Almost. His voice was unusually soft when he spoke, “I forgot because I’m an idiot. Not because I don’t care. I‘m so sorry.”
… is ready to drop on his knees to beg you for your forgiveness
… will spend the entire evening making it up to you, surprising you with a heartfelt apology and a clumsily wrapped gift he had tucked away but forgot about. “I’m sorry – this is the best I could manage.”, he sheepishly scratched the back of his neck when you raised your brow at the wrapping.
Theodore …
… freezes after you leave, staring at the door as his heart sinks. He is surprised at his own reaction – he had not expected to feel like shit after he hurt you, but he did.
… finally rushes out of his room in search for you after swallowing his shitty ego and pride.
… finds you sitting by the lake, shivering, and offers you his jacket. His voice is filled with uncharacteristic regret as he speaks. “I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean that.”
… frowns when you push his jacket off his shoulders as if disgusted by the mere thought of something of his touching you. “I did not kiss her – she forced herself on me. I am so horribly sorry, amore.” He tries again, his face lightening up as you finally turn to look at him.
… listens as you lay out your feelings – as you tell him what bothers you and what he has done wrong. He nods solemnly, showing you that he is listening.
… spends the next week proving his sincerity with small, thoughtful gestures.
Lorenzo …
… stands awkwardly outside your door after you leave, his head bowed as he knocks. “Can we talk? Please?”
… stumbles over his words, his usual confidence replaced by genuine guilt. “I… I didn’t mean to embarrass you. That was awful of me.”
… sits with you, holding your hand as he listens to how his actions hurt you, his eyes filled with remorse.
… vows never to make you feel small again, even offering to apologize in front of his friends.
… becomes your fiercest defender, always quick to shut down anyone who dares to tease you in the future.
Draco …
… catches sight of you walking away and feels a pang of something he rarely allows himself to feel: shame.
… finds you in the library, avoiding everyone, and quietly sits across from you, looking pale and uncomfortable. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m… sorry.”
… admits that he lashed out because he felt cornered but knows that’s no excuse. “You didn’t deserve that, not even close.”
… listens as you vent your frustration, nodding solemnly and promising to change.
… surprises you by defending your opinion in the next debate, making it clear to everyone that your thoughts matter to him.
Blaise …
… sits in the silence after you leave, his head in his hands, replaying his cruel words over and over.
… knocks on your door late at night, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”
… admits that his words were harsh and untrue, revealing his own insecurities that made him lash out.
… holds you tightly as you cry, promising to be better and thanking you for being patient with him despite his flaws.
Tom …
… is angry at himself for what he has said after taking a second to go through everything he had said to you. He shouldn’t have lashed out on you – even though he truly detested your friends.
… finds you immediately afterwards – there is no place in the world where you can hide from him. He’ll find you if he wants to. No matter where you are.
… blankly stares at you for a while – it was laughable, really.
… struggles to articulate his remorse, but his sincerity is undeniable. “I apologize for being rough with you. I did not intend to hurt your feelings.”
… lets you lay down boundaries, promising to never cross them again, even if it’s difficult for him to unlearn his harsh ways.
… will never accept your muggle-born friends – but you are happy he is willing to try being nicer.
Warning: Toxic!boys, not proofread, cheating, etc.
Enjoy!
Mattheo …
… watches you with disinterest as your eyes grow wet with unshed tears. He’d just told you that he simply forgot about your birthday and had spent the whole day with some random female students.
… shrugs his shoulders when you ask him whether he is being serious. “It’s not that big of a deal – I simply forgot.”
… groans when you start pointing out all the times he stood you up and neglected you for the sake of being with other people. “Please – not this again.”
… plays the “If I’m really such a bad boyfriend then leave”-card.
… will smirk if you decide not to leave.
… will quickly get up from his bed if you actually turn around and slam the door behind you as you rush out of his stinky teenage dorm.
Theodore …
… sits on the edge of his bed, completely unfazed when you confront him about the girl you saw him kissing. “You’re overreacting. It didn’t mean anything.”
… doesn’t try to explain himself, running a hand through his hair as if the conversation is exhausting him. “Merlin, can’t you just drop it already?”
… scoffs when your voice cracks, and tears spill down your cheeks. He is obviously annoyed by your display of emotions, “Honestly, this is pathetic. Do you have to cry about everything?”
… rolls his eyes when you demand answers. “You weren’t exactly keeping me entertained. What did you think was going to happen?”
… doesn’t even try to stop you as you storm out of his dorm, muttering under his breath about how dramatic you are.
Lorenzo …
… lets out a mocking laugh when you trip over your words in front of his friends, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. “Did you seriously just say that?” he sneers.
… dismisses your protests when you pull him aside after the incident. “Oh, come on, it was just a joke. Don’t be so sensitive.”
… refuses to acknowledge the hurt in your eyes as you try to explain how humiliated you felt. “If you can’t take a little teasing, that’s on you.”
… crosses his arms when you demand an apology, shaking his head. “No one else would’ve made such a big deal about this. Maybe grow a thicker skin.”
… rolls his eyes when you walk away, but for a fleeting second, guilt flickers in his eyes before he brushes it off.
Draco …
… sneers at you in front of a crowd after you tried to share your opinion during a heated debate. “Why don’t you leave the thinking to people who actually know what they’re talking about?”
… watches your face fall as you try to defend yourself, a cruel smirk playing on his face. “You’re embarrassing yourself, you half-blood.”
… doesn’t care about the tears in your eyes, cutting you off with a wave of his hand. “Oh, don’t start crying now. You’re acting like a child.”
… shrugs his shoulders when you call him an ass before storming off.
… feels the slightest pang of regret later, but he buries it deep down, convincing himself you were overreacting.
Blaise …
… snaps during an argument, his voice icy and sharp. “You’re so goddamn needy all the time. Do you ever stop to think about anyone but yourself?”
… watches as your eyes widen, but instead of softening, he doubles down. “Oh, now you’re crying? Of course, you are. That’s your solution for everything, isn’t it?”
… crosses his arms and leans back, clearly unimpressed by your attempt to defend yourself. “You always have to play the victim, don’t you?”
… rolls his eyes when you try to leave the room, grabbing your wrist. “Don’t walk away from me. We’re not done here.”
… later sits alone, the weight of his words sinking in, but his pride won’t let him admit he went too far.
Tom …
… grips your wrist too tightly during an argument, his voice low and venomous. “You will not walk away from me while I’m talking.” You had been fighting due to his treatment towards your muggle-born friends.
… shoves you backward when you try to push past him, his eyes cold and unfeeling. “Don’t test me, darling. You won’t like the consequences.”
… watches you stumble, your eyes wide with shock and fear in annoyance – you knew what you were getting into when you agreed to be his girlfriend. You knew who he was.
… sneers when you try to regain your composure, his tone dripping with condescension. “Wipe that pathetic look off your face. It doesn’t suit you.”
… takes a step closer, his shadow looming over you as his voice drops to a dangerous whisper. “Do you think they’d risk anything for you? Those mudbloods you’re so desperate to protect?”
… brushes past you with deliberate force when you don’t respond, his shoulders rigid, muttering, “You’re lucky I don’t make an example of them for your insolence.”
… is triggered by your mere presence and is very impatient with you. “Stop being so goddamn clingy, for fuck’s sake …”
… does not feel bad when you start tearing up – he could not care less.
… depending on how vulnerable and hurt you are by his behavior he would shamelessly use you and drag you along for his own entertainment.
… he is nice-ish whenever he wants something from you – mainly sex – and the moment he’s had his fill he’d toss you aside.
… if you told him to fuck off, he’d be pissed at your attitude, not having expected this side of you. He’ll bully you and try to make your life at Hogwarts unbearable.
Theodore …
… is immediately disgusted whenever you try to touch him after he has lost interest.
… will avoid you – not in the mood for any confrontation because he just cannot be bothered.
… will ask you why you’re there if you manage to corner him in his room and laugh into your face when you tell him that you are trying to find out why your boyfriend has been avoiding you. “Oh, no … did you really think we were a thing? Amore, I don’t do relationships, you poor thing.” He’ll chuckle, while sneering down at you – completely acting like the last few months did not happen.
Lorenzo …
… is angry at you for being so boring, because why else would he lose interest? He is perfect so it must be you.
… cringes when you try to kiss him one morning and pushes you away from his body with one hand and will try to humiliate you in front of his friends, “Your breath smells …”.
… he’ll watch you blush in embarrassment as you cover your mouth with your hand before rushing away with a mumbled ‘sorry’.
… will try to make it seem like you are fucking up before he officially breaks up with you, “You know I hate this.”, “What do you mean you didn’t know we were supposed to go on a date yesterday?” – things like that.
Draco …
… is ice-cold in his words and actions, treating you like an inconvenience when he loses interest.
… will make snide remarks and passive-aggressive comments to push you away without directly confronting you. "Honestly, do you have nothing better to do than cling to me all the time?"
… enjoys toying with your emotions, subtly pulling you back in whenever you try to distance yourself.
… if you challenge him, he'll scoff and act like you're beneath him, making it clear that your feelings mean nothing to him. "You’re being overly dramatic. Grow up, will you?"
… if you stand up for yourself and call him out, he'll smirk and pretend he finds it amusing, but deep down, his ego will take a hit. He’ll go out of his way to make you regret it in public, embarrassing you in front of others.
Blaise …
… … is indifferent and distant when he starts losing interest, but he’ll keep up the charm just enough to keep you guessing.
… avoids confrontation completely, leaving you to figure it out on your own. If you ask him what's going on, he’ll shrug it off, "Why are you making this a thing? Don’t overthink it."
… manipulates the situation so you’re the one who feels guilty, even though he’s the one who pulled away. "I didn’t realize I needed to explain myself every second of the day."
… if you demand answers or push too hard, he’ll smirk lazily and say, "It’s not that deep. You should move on."
Tom …
… is calculating and cold, losing interest the moment you stop being of use to him.
… will make you feel small and insignificant through his words, “Do you really think you matter to me? That’s laughable.”
… has no patience for your emotions, viewing them as weakness. He’ll mock you if you cry or plead with him.
… uses manipulation to make you feel like the problem. "You’re the one who couldn’t keep up, don’t try to blame me for your shortcomings."
… if you try to leave him or call him out, he’ll retaliate, ensuring you regret ever challenging him. He doesn’t let go easily – not because he cares, but because he enjoys control and wants to see you crumble.
… is cruel enough to turn your friends or others against you, twisting the narrative to make himself look innocent and you, the unstable one.
ok chat my birthday was a day ago so i gota ask.. slytherin boys celebrating ur birthday? (esp tom pspspsps)
Slytherin Boys – how they would celebrate your birthday
Warnings: None – this actually turned out to be rather wholesome?
A/N: Sorry for the long and sudden break – took me a while to find somewhat of a new routine. And I am so sorry anon – I don't know how old this ask his but anyway: happy (extremely) belated birthday! I hope you had an amazing day! Have fun reading ❤️
Enjoy!
Mattheo …
… who would try to bake something just because he knows how much you love chocolate cake.
… who would almost cry because the finished cake looked borderline poisonous before running into the kitchens to threaten ask the house elves to bake him a cake for you.
… who would surprise you in his dorm after kicking the other boys out and threatening them to hex them if they disturbed you.
… who would be laying on his side on the bed with a bow around his hips and the cake in front of him.
… who would lie about the cake – telling you he made it for you. “Happy birthday, babe. I made this for you.”
… who would smirk as he told you that he is your present, while wiggling his eyebrows and pointing at the big red bow on his crotch.
… who would roll his eyes when you raised your brow at that, quickly giving you your real present before calling you his “materialistic queen”.
Theodore …
… who almost forgot about your birthday. He found out when he saw your girl friends sing happy birthday for you loudly in the Hall.
… who immediately skedaddled out of there, pissed at himself for forgetting your birthday.
… who’d skip classes to go to Hogsmeade (he almost got caught) and buy you your favorite things.
… who’d sneak into the kitchens right before dinner to steal food just so he could prepare a picnic for you.
… whose heart hurt when he saw your angry face until you noticed the picnic.
… who’d brag about him being the best boyfriend and telling you he’d “never forget, amore”.
Lorenzo …
… who would plan a surprise party with all of your (and mainly his) friends on the night before your birthday.
… who’d created a list of presents that you might like – to ensure you’d only get things you like.
… who’d whisk you away after the time hit midnight to give you his present in private – he wanted to be the first.
… who’d dance with you in the privacy of his room, kissing you after ending the dance before leading you back to the party.
… who’d roll his eyes when the party guests called him a greedy b*tch for stealing you away
Draco …
… who would make sure to remind you daily leading up to your birthday that it’s your day, so you better let him spoil you.
… who’d sneak into Honeydukes to buy your favorite sweets, because he wants to be the one to treat you to everything you love.
… who’d insist on picking out the perfect dress for you and make sure it fits perfectly, so you’d look flawless on your special day.
… who’d act like he’s so annoyed when you point out his thoughtful gestures, but secretly feels a bit proud of himself.
… who’d give you a gift wrapped in luxurious paper, telling you it’s not something you can ever buy for yourself.
… who’d be way too proud of how good you look in the dress he picked out for you and won’t stop staring at you all night.
… who’d get a little possessive when other guys look at you, making sure to remind them that you’re his with a sharp look or a possessive hand on your waist.
Blaise …
… who’d be the one to organize the most relaxing and intimate birthday evening, knowing that you just want peace and quiet.
… who would definitely take you out to a quiet dinner at one of the hidden spots around Hogwarts that only a select few know about.
… who’d give you a thoughtful gift that was well beyond your expectations, something sentimental that shows how much he listens to everything you say.
… who’d take a walk with you after dinner, talking about everything and nothing, making you feel like you’re the most important person in his world.
… who’d quietly ask you if you liked the gift, and would be slightly insecure until you reassure him you love it.
… who’d smirk slightly when you thank him and call him your "birthday savior," secretly feeling proud he made your day special.
Tom …
… who’d remind you about your birthday days in advance because he doesn’t forget important dates, even if it doesn’t seem like it.
… who’d act like he couldn’t care less about celebrating, but when the day arrives, he’d still find a way to make it unforgettable for you.
… who would make an effort to give you a gift that only someone who truly understands you could choose – something meaningful, intellectual, and thought-provoking.
… who’d take you to a secluded spot in the castle and tell you how much you mean to him in a rare moment of vulnerability.
… who’d whisper softly, “I trust you, more than anyone else,” as you both share a moment in private, far from prying eyes.
… who would give you a small, carefully selected token that’s symbolic of how he feels about you, something with deeper meaning that you’d never expect from someone like him.
… who’d leave you with a kiss on your forehead, a touch of possessiveness and longing in his eyes before disappearing, making sure your birthday is something only the two of you share.
Warning: non-con (non-descriptive – please read at your own discretion), infidelity (?), not proofread
A/N: Here is part two! Hope you guys enjoy and please leave comments/feedback to help me with my writing and my motivation!
And Again: Anyone knows what inspired this story?
Hint: It's a historical romantic drama
Weeks slipped by, each day marked by a tense silence between you and Daemon. Though you rarely crossed paths directly, you could feel his presence wherever he lingered—his eyes watching you from the shadows of the hall or across the court during meals. His gaze burned, but he never approached, and the distance between you, once a balm, now became a slow torture.
Your impatience grew. You had challenged him, demanded that he court you properly, and yet he had done nothing but brood. The fire in your blood wouldn’t let you rest. If he wouldn’t act, then you would force his hand.
You began to spend more time in the company of the other lords. You laughed at their jests, leaned in just a touch too close when they spoke, and accepted their compliments with a smile that left them smitten. It wasn’t long before you caught Daemon’s eye across the courtyard one afternoon, his expression dark and thunderous as you lingered at Lord Corwyn’s side, a soft laugh escaping your lips. You felt the heat of Daemon’s gaze but didn’t acknowledge it, allowing the moment to stretch before you excused yourself with a graceful bow.
The tension only grew over the next few days. Daemon’s brooding presence became more intense, his eyes trailing after you with barely concealed frustration. Yet still, he did nothing, and your patience wore thinner with each passing moment.
*****
At last, Daemon could bear it no longer. He stormed into his brother’s chambers one evening, his cloak billowing behind him as he confronted Viserys.
“I want her,” he declared, his voice resolute. “She is of noble blood, and she would strengthen our family’s legacy.”
Viserys looked up from his seat, his expression skeptical. “And what of your wife?” he asked, his tone weary. “She still lives.”
Daemon’s jaw clenched. “For now,” he said darkly, though his voice softened as he continued. “Her health wanes with each passing day. She can no longer fulfill her duties. If the gods will it, she won’t survive another year. The realm needs strong heirs.”
Viserys frowned, his fingers tapping against the armrest of his chair. “You speak as though you already expect her death.”
Daemon leaned forward; his gaze unyielding. “I speak as a man who sees the future clearly. Let me marry her. Let me take her as my second wife. The union will strengthen our house, and it will bring me peace.”
Viserys sighed, rubbing his temples. He knew better than to expect Daemon to relent once his mind was set. After a long silence, he finally nodded. “If she consents, I will not stand in your way.”
Daemon wasted no time. He left his brother’s chambers with purpose, his boots echoing through the stone halls as he made his way to your room.
The Confrontation
You were in the midst of a quiet moment, relaxing in the warmth of your bath, the water steaming gently around you. The world outside felt distant, and for once, your mind was free from the turmoil of Daemon’s lingering presence. But the tranquility shattered as the door to your chambers burst open.
Startled, you grabbed a towel and quickly draped it over yourself, your heart racing. Daemon stood in the doorway, his eyes stormy and wild, his presence filling the room like a force of nature.
“Daemon!” you exclaimed, your voice a mix of shock and indignation. “Have you lost your mind? You cannot simply—”
“Enough,” he interrupted, his tone commanding. He took a step closer, his gaze intense as it swept over you. “Viserys has granted his blessing. We will be married.”
The words hung in the air, heavy and final. Your heart leapt into your throat, a whirlwind of emotions swirling within you—shock, disbelief, and a flicker of something else. You tightened your grip on the towel, trying to compose yourself.
“You went to the King?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “Without even speaking to me first?”
Daemon smirked, though his eyes remained serious. “I did what had to be done. You wanted me to court you properly, and now I’ve secured the King’s blessing. I’ve done what you asked. No more games.”
You stared at him, your breath catching in your throat. His words were bold, and his actions even bolder, but the fire in his gaze left no room for doubt. He was utterly, irrevocably determined.
“This is madness,” you said, shaking your head. “What of my sister? What of her child?”
“She will remain Lady of the Vale,” Daemon said dismissively. “Her position is secure. But you—” He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous whisper. “You will be mine.”
Your pulse quickened as his words sank in. The air between you crackled with tension, the heat of the bath doing little to mask the intensity of the moment. You could see the raw need in his eyes, the hunger he no longer tried to hide.
“And if I refuse?” you challenged, though your voice betrayed the uncertainty beneath your defiance.
Daemon’s smirk returned, wicked and confident. “You won’t,” he said simply. “Because you know as well as I do that this is what you want.”
He reached out, his hand brushing against your damp hair, his touch lingering just long enough to send a shiver down your spine. “No more waiting,” he murmured. “No more pretending.”
For a moment, you couldn’t find the words to respond. The weight of his presence, his determination, left you breathless. But beneath the shock and the defiance, there was a spark of something undeniable—something that had been there all along.
Your heart raced as you met his gaze, knowing that your next words would change everything. Shaking your head hesitantly you muttered a silent “I can’t.”, as you backed away from him slowly.
“What?” Daemon scoffed, his eyes blazed with fury, his chest heaving as he took a step closer, the sound of his boots against the stone floor echoing in the tense silence.
“You asked me to do this properly,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “You told me to go to Viserys, to ask for his blessing. I did. And now you dare turn away?”
You clutched the towel tighter around yourself, your back pressed against the cool stone wall at this point and the only way to put distance between you two would be to run, which you doubted you would succeed in. The heat of his anger filled the room, suffocating you. “I didn’t think he would agree – or that you would actually do it,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “And even if he did – Daemon, this isn’t right. I can’t … I can’t betray my sister like this.”
His expression twisted with disbelief; his anger barely restrained. “Your sister?” he spat, his voice rising. “If she truly mattered to you, why did you play this game with me—her husband?” His laugh was cold, derisive. Without breaking eye contact, he braced his arms on either side of your head, boxing you in with a predator’s precision.
“She’s still my family,” you shot back, your voice trembling but firm. “And your wife.”
“And yet that didn’t stop you from tempting me – stop pretending. Stop playing coy.” He spat, his nose almost touching yours.
A sudden jolt of fear coursed through you as it became clear: Daemon wouldn’t back down – he wouldn’t leave without claiming what he believed was his. Your rejection wasn’t just personal; it threatened to humiliate him, to weaken his standing with the King. You knew he wouldn’t allow that.
Summoning every ounce of strength, you bit your lip and shoved him with all your might. The force caught him off guard, and he staggered back momentarily – but just as quickly, he steadied himself, his eyes blazing with a dangerous mix of anger and disbelief.
Without another word Daemon grabbed you by the back of your head, his fingers gripping your long curls harshly, as he dragged you out of the bathroom and towards your bed. “You dare lay your hand on me, you little girl?” he snarled through gritted teeth, his grip tightening until strands of your hair gave way under the pressure.
You let out a pained yelp, your hands clawing at his, desperately trying to loosen his grip. “S-Stop—you’re hurting me!” you pleaded, your voice trembling.
“Silence!” he snapped, shoving you face-first onto the bed, his hold on your hair unrelenting. Panic surged as your eyes watered, the horrifying realization of his intent sinking in. “N-No … please, don’t! W-What are you—”
“You’ll have no choice but to marry me once I’m finished with you,” he harshly whispered against your neck, his hot breath hitting the delicate skin under your ear.
Your eyes widened as the first tear slipped down your cheek. Gradually, your struggles ceased –– you couldn’t match his strength. You felt weak. How pathetic.
******
You felt dirty – defeated, as you laid there on your bed. The tears on your face had dried, your dry lips bitten bloody. You heard Daemon shift behind you, likely adjusting his clothes. You closed your eyes thinking he would leave but instead, you felt him pull the sheet from underneath your now naked body – tainted by your sin. Your body tensed once again, a desperate urge to grasp the sheet, to burn it so no one would see it. But you were too exhausted, too broken to move.
“Viserys will announce our betrothal in the morrow. I will speak to him and urge him to hurry up with the wedding ceremony – there is no reason to waste more time,” Daemon said, his tone lazy as he stepped away from the bed, the stained sheets crumpled in his hands. "I'll speak with him, urge him to hurry with the wedding. No reason to waste more time."
He paused, his gaze lingering on you. "I'll keep these until we're husband and wife."
With a soft, lingering kiss to the back of your head, he whispered, "I'll see you tomorrow, my betrothed," before turning and walking away.
As the door shut behind him, a heart-wrenching sob escaped you. Your body shook violently from the force of it, regret flooding your mind as you realized how you had unwittingly led the temperamental prince on.
It felt like hours before you managed to push yourself off the bed. Your legs trembled beneath you, every inch of your body aching with exhaustion. When you took your first step, a warm trickle down your leg sent a wave of nausea surging through you, almost overwhelming.
Pushing yourself forward you barely managed to take a few steps before you fell against the sink.
Gripping onto the marble of your washbasin you bit your lip in despair, angry tears dripping into the water as you watched the droplets cause small ripples in the water you had used to wash your face. Your hold on the cold surface hardened – your fingers turning white until your wet skin slipped on the smooth surface and you lost your grip completely. And with it your resolve not to cry. Ugly sobs forced their way out of your trembling lips as you let your head fall forward, your forehead almost touching the water. You let yourself cry and scream – what an ugly sight you must have been.
Warning: infidelity (?), jealousy, Daemon 😎, not proofread 🥲
A/N: Aaaand I'm back (kinda) – was I even gone? 👀 Sorry it took me so long – I've been busy with work and my thesis but I've missed writing and sharing stories on here! This will definitely have a part 2 (maybe even 3 who knows)! Enjoy reading and let me know what you think!
PS: Do you know which novel/movie this was inspired by?
Gripping onto the marble of your washbasin you bit your lip in despair, angry tears dripping into the water as you watched the droplets cause small ripples in the water you had used to wash your face. Your hold on the cold surface hardened – your fingers turning white until your wet skin slipped on the smooth surface and you lost your grip completely. And with it your resolve not to cry. Ugly sobs forced their way out of your trembling lips as you let your head fall forward, your forehead almost touching the water. You let yourself cry and scream – what an ugly sight you must have been.
Present:
You smiled brightly as your eyes met your older sister’s – both of you clad in beautiful dresses. She grinned at you cheekily before her hand reached out to help you out of the carriage – she had always been there to help you even if there had been other people to assist you – she’d rather be the one to help you. Slinging your arm around hers you both walk towards your parents before you are greeted by the Lord Hand of the King. As the older man leads your family into the Red Keep and through the endless halls of the imposing building you lost yourself in the grandeur of the architecture. Your eyes tried to take in as much as possible as you blindly followed – trusting your sister to lead you to your destination. After what felt like hours you walked into a big Hall before everyone came to a halt – your sister’s lack of movement pulling you into a standstill as well. Subtly tugging on your arm your sister brought you back to the present as your eyes took in the people around you. You almost gasped – barely managing to gather yourself – before you curtsied along with your sister. Lifting your head you felt your heartbeat quicken when your eyes briefly met the prince’s – he was intimidatingly handsome, his gaze intense. But unfortunately, the magical moment didn’t last long as his eyes immediately settled on your older sister. You felt your heart clench as you felt your sister shift in excitement her soft giggle resonating in your ear. Oh no. The realization of why you had come all the way to Kings Landing dawned on you – your sister and the prince were to be betrothed. You stood no chance.
The remainder of the day passed by in a blur – the beautiful castle suddenly seemed so dull as you watched your sister talk to prince Daemon. You wanted to leave – to push your chair back and waltz out of the huge hall before disappearing forever. But where to? And even if you knew where to – you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself. So, instead of leaving you silently sat in your chair as you pushed the food on your plate around. Your appetite long gone. A sudden hand on your right arm made you jump in your seat. Whipping your head around you were face to face with the cheeky smile of princess Rhaenyra. You felt your face heat up at the proximity.
“You want to leave this suffocating hall?” She raised her brow suggestively, the corner of her lips still pulled into a cheeky smile. You stared at the princess at a loss for words – she seemed nice enough and was around your age. Stealing one last glance at the prince and your sister you sighed in defeat before nodding meekly. And that was everything it took for Rhaenyra to stand up and excuse the both of you from the evening – there was a lot she wanted to show you she said. King Viserys chuckled at his daughter before nodding approvingly and just as you were about to stand up the princess pulled you out of your chair and out of the hall.
That is how you came to befriend the beautiful Targaryen princess. That same night you snuck back to your room with the help of Rhaenyra, giggling softly as you wished her a good night before closing the door softly.
“Must have been a fun night, I’m assuming.” Your sister’s voice came from behind you. You shrieked as you turned around with big eyes. She was sitting in her bed, watching you with a wide smile. Pushing yourself off the door you walked towards your own bed, letting yourself fall into the soft bedding with a sigh. “The princess seems very nice.” Is all you said – is all you could say before your sister started talking about her encounter with the prince dreamily. You pretended to listen quietly as you stood up from the bed to get ready for the night Occasionally nodding whenever you felt like your sister expected a reaction from you. You had never been necessarily jealous – you never had reason to. Your parents loved your sister and you unconditionally and never gave anyone any reason to feel less. You admired your sister – you always have. She was beautiful, kind, elegant and so protective of you. Why should you have been jealous of her? That night was the first time you noticed the difference between your sister and you. That night you looked at your sister with different eyes as she laughed along the prince you had heard so many stories about – about the prince you had dreamed of marrying almost every night. That night marked the night you’d distance yourself bit by bit from your innocent sister.
Days passed before the betrothal was announced publicly – followed by the news of the feast to celebrate the news. You sat beside the princess while you watched the maids run around the castle. “Are you listening? Hey!” Rhaenyra poked you impatiently with a frown on your face. You just smiled sheepishly at her before muttering a soft apology.
“It does not matter … it seems my dear friend is lost in her thoughts. Again.” She looked at you pointedly, a smile breaking out on her face. “You seem distracted. Is everything alright?” Her brows furrowed in worry as she leaned closer to you, the bright smile on her face almost gone. You sighed. You couldn’t possibly tell her that you were jealous of your sister. So instead, you just shrugged your shoulder.
“Apparently my friend is also mute now.”
You gasped in mock offence as you stared at her before the both of you broke out into laughter. After a while you broke your silence. “I don’t know … maybe I’m just homesick.” You knew that your excuse was lame, and you also knew that Rhaenyra wasn’t convinced – she was too smart for that. But thankfully she just nodded before clasping her hands together. “You know what? I know what will cheer you up!”
***
“When you said that you knew something that would cheer me up – this is definitely not what I was expecting!” You shrieked as you took a few steps back – away from the huge and potentially dangerous dragon.
Rhaenyra only rolled her eyes, “Come on … stop whining!” she laughed as she petted Syrax who eyed you curiously. “Syrax is a darling you need not be scared of her!” She turned around with a smirk, tilting her head in expectation. “Come on.” She sung as she reached one of her hands out, wiggling her fingers impatiently.
Groaning silently, you forced your way to step towards her – you couldn’t win against her. She had a dragon after all. When you were close enough, she grabbed onto your arm and pulled you closer. And that is how you befriended a dragon.
***
The days passed until they turned into weeks. You always felt your sister’ eyes on you, turning sad whenever you avoided her once again. She missed you terribly – you were sure of that – yet you could not find it in you to feel bad for her. Your heart still ached, and you were blinded by your jealousy. The morning of their wedding you stared at the ceiling with burning eyes – sleep did not find you that night. But it didn’t matter. Soon you’d be going back home and leave this place and your heartbreak behind. The only person you’d miss was your new best friend. You got ready for the wedding with the help of the maids. You were dressed in a beautiful deep blue gown and your hair was put into a half updo. As you stared at your reflection in the mirror you had to bite your lip to keep yourself from crying. What was it that your sister had that you did not? Willing those thoughts away you stood up from the stool and smoothed out your dress before a knock brought you out of your daydream. Your sister had requested to speak with you. Your shoulders tensed as you followed the maid to your sister’s temporary chambers. As you entered the room you were overwhelmed by the smell of expensive oils and the many maids and servants running around the room. And there, in front of the mirror, stood your sister in her wedding gown. Your breath hitched. She looked absolutely beautiful. You clenched your jaw as the traitorous voices in your head told you that it could have been you in that dress.
“Everyone, please leave. I wish to speak with my sister alone.” Your sister’s soft voice caught your attention as your eyes found hers. You walked deeper into the room as the maids rushed out until you stopped a few steps away from her. After the door fell shut your sister’s smile turned sad. She closed the distance between you and took hold of your hands as she stared into your eyes. It took everything in you not to flinch at the contact. The last time you had been close to your sister had been a while. A small part of you had missed her closeness.
“I wanted to talk to you before it is too late – you know how chaotic celebrations can get.” She laughed softly. “I feel like we haven’t talked in a while … I’ve missed you so much.” Her voice trembled as her eye turned wet. The sight of your sister’s teary eyes tugged at your heart, yet the bitterness simmered underneath, urging you to keep your guard up. You looked away briefly, gathering yourself, then finally met her gaze, struggling to keep your tone steady.
“You missed me?” you replied, trying to mask the hurt. “It seems like you’ve had plenty of company lately.” Your words came out softer than you intended, betraying the sting of jealousy you’d tried to hide.
Her face fell, a look of confusion and hurt flashing across her features. She squeezed your hands tighter, her brows drawing together as she searched your face.
“Of course I missed you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’re my sister, my closest friend. Don’t… don’t you feel the same? A-Are you not happy for me?”
Your sister's words hung in the air, but you forced a soft, polite smile, one that did not reach your eyes. You tucked away the hurt that twisted in your chest, burying it deeper where she couldn’t see. If she wanted to believe nothing had changed between you, then so be it. You would let her believe that.
"Of course I’ve missed you," you replied, your voice light and smooth, as if this moment meant little. "I'm happy for you. You've found a place here… with him. That’s what truly matters."
Her face softened in relief, as if she’d been bracing for an outburst. Instead, she seemed comforted by your calm. She squeezed your hands once more, her smile returning, brighter and more hopeful this time.
"I’m so glad to hear you say that," she said, her voice trembling with emotion. "It means the world to me, truly. I’ve felt so lost here without you close to me." She paused, reaching to brush an imaginary wrinkle from the sleeve of your dress, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. "Promise me you'll write to me once you're back home?”
You nodded, your smile still perfectly poised. “Of course, I’ll write,” you said, though the thought of pouring your heart onto parchment felt hollow and impossible.
Her face softened, a flicker of sadness beneath her joy. “I know things won’t be the same,” she continued, her voice more wistful now, as if speaking to a memory instead of the person standing before her. “But I do hope we’ll be close again someday, like we used to be.”
You grit your teeth as you simply inclined your head, brushing your hands free of hers under the pretense of smoothing your gown. “Enjoy your day, sister. You deserve it,” you murmured, forcing your voice to remain even before turning gracefully, giving her one last smile as you walked out of the room, feeling her gaze linger on you until the door closed softly behind you.
The sound of laughter and clinking goblets filled the air as you wandered through the grand halls, desperately needing a reprieve from the crowd and festivities. The wedding was in full swing, with guests reveling in the union of your sister and Prince Daemon, their smiles radiant as they danced together, utterly oblivious to your absence.
Your steps slowed as you neared a small alcove off the main hall, hidden by flickering torches casting warm shadows against the stone. Voices carried from around the corner, low and animated. It was Daemon, unmistakable in both his voice and the easy arrogance in his tone, surrounded by a few lords who seemed eager to hear every word.
“Congratulations prince Daemon! Your bride is stunning,” one of the lords said, chuckling, his voice carrying a hint of admiration. “But I must ask, Prince Daemon — what of her younger sister? Was she not to your liking?”
You froze in place, heart pounding as their conversation continued. You pressed yourself against the wall, trying to stay hidden, as you tried to listen to the rest of the conversation.
Daemon let out a low laugh, tinged with amusement. “She’s … not my type, let’s say,” he replied, his voice as smooth as silk but laced with something that stung. “Too young, too innocent.” He paused, his tone growing more dismissive. “Naive, even.”
One of the lords let out a knowing chuckle, leaning closer to the prince. “Perhaps she’ll mature into a beauty like her sister. But she does have her charms, does she not?”
Daemon gave a small shrug, as if brushing off the suggestion entirely. “Perhaps, though she lacks her sister’s allure. She’s … well, sweet, I suppose, but childlike.” He took a sip from his goblet, a hint of a smirk curling at the corner of his lips. “I much prefer my wife’s look — fair, almost Targaryen in appearance. She looks the part, wouldn’t you agree?”
A ripple of laughter passed among the men, and Daemon’s voice dropped, though you still caught his next words.
“Besides,” he added, “the younger one would’ve withered under the scrutiny of court. I need someone with a bit more … resilience.”
His words cut through you – your chest felt tight as your breathing grew shallow. All the admiration, all the dreams you’d once dared to entertain about him evaporated in an instant, replaced by a raw bitterness. Not only did you not stand a chance with him but you were humiliated in front of the other lords – of potential suitors!
You didn’t wait to hear more. Gathering your skirts, you slipped away from the alcove, careful not to make a sound. Once out of earshot, you allowed yourself a shaky breath, steadying yourself against the wall. You wanted to hide in your bed and cry until you could no more – but instead you gathered yourself. You told yourself you’d leave this place soon enough, return to the quiet comfort of home, far from Daemon’s cruel words and your sister’s perfect smile. And this time, you’d leave without a second glance, carrying only the lessons this place had burned into your heart. You wouldn’t forget this feeling — it would harden you, make you stronger. No longer would you be the naïve, starry-eyed girl you had once been.
Straightening, you forced yourself to lift your chin, feeling a strange sort of clarity settle over you. You took one last steadying breath and then turned away, disappearing into the shadows of the hall with your dignity intact, vowing that you’d never again let your heart be so easily wounded.
Years passed, each one carrying you further from the girl you had once been in King’s Landing. The life you led now was one of careful cultivation and quiet growth. After leaving the capital, you’d poured yourself into study, becoming well-versed in courtly politics, the arts, and the languages that befitted a noble lady. You learned to sharpen your wit, hold your ground in conversation, and wield grace like a shield. The memory of Daemon’s careless dismissal haunted you at times, but it no longer stung like it once had. Instead, it had steeled you, hardened your resolve to never again let anyone consider you naïve or inconsequential.
Although you corresponded with your sister, your letters remained polite and carefully worded, a dutiful obligation rather than an openhearted exchange. You knew she had her new life and that the bond you’d once shared was forever altered. In contrast, your friendship with Princess Rhaenyra blossomed over the years; her letters often brought genuine laughter, her words playful and filled with affection. She confided in you about court gossip, the mounting pressures she faced as heir, and her own private struggles. In Rhaenyra, you found not only a true friend but an ally who valued you for who you had become.
One day, while going over correspondence in your family’s study, you received a letter sealed with the familiar crest of House Targaryen. It was brief, but the news within jolted you.
Your sister had given birth.
A girl. Healthy, strong, and full of life. But there was no joy in Daemon’s heart for a daughter, it seemed. According to the letter, he had expected a son, an heir he could shape and command, and his disappointment was already palpable. And more troubling still, your sister had endured a brutal, drawn-out birth, leaving her weakened and in dire need of support.
The words gnawed at you. A part of you still held the bitterness of old wounds, but another part—the part that remembered her as the sister who had once helped you out of the carriage and whispered childhood secrets in your ear—felt a pang of sympathy. She was alone, vulnerable, and perhaps needed you now more than she ever had.
Rhaenyra arrived at your family’s estate that afternoon, and the two of you took a long walk through the gardens. The letter remained clutched in your hand, your thoughts a tangled mix of reluctance and lingering affection.
“Your sister’s birth was difficult,” Rhaenyra said, glancing at you with a mix of concern and knowing. “My uncle is disappointed, then?” There was a hint of scorn in her tone. “He expects a male heir, as if that child’s worth is tied to his own ambitions.”
“Yes,” you said softly. “And my sister... She had a difficult birth and is left weakened. I suppose she needs support, though…” You hesitated, trying to put your own conflicted feelings into words.
Rhaenyra turned to you, her gaze steady. “She’s your sister. I don’t know what you’ll find when you see her again, but I do know you’ve grown far beyond whatever you left behind in King’s Landing.”
You looked away, gathering your thoughts. Rhaenyra had always known you best, and she understood what it took for you to move past your pain. “It’s hard,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m not the same person I was back then. I don’t think I can just go and pretend nothing’s changed.”
Rhaenyra took your hand in hers, her expression gentle yet resolute. “Then don’t,” she said simply. “Go as you are now. You’re no longer the innocent girl who idolized him.” She smirked slightly. “And whatever my uncle sees when you walk through those halls, he’s not the one who defines you. You’ve done that yourself.”
The words settled over you, and a sense of clarity began to form. Rhaenyra was right—you weren’t returning to King’s Landing as the girl Daemon had once so easily dismissed, or the sister who’d been hurt and left behind. You were a woman with your own strength, dignity, and purpose. And perhaps, seeing your sister now would allow you to finally let go of the past, to redefine what your family—and even Daemon—meant to you.
Rhaenyra took your hand with a determined glint in her eye. “Come,” she said, a smile spreading across her lips, “we’ll go together. Besides, I know someone who would love to make this journey with us.” She tilted her head in the direction of where Syrax rested, her scales glinting like molten gold in the sunlight.
Your heart quickened. It wasn’t often that you flew with Rhaenyra, but today it felt right, a fierce and bold return to King’s Landing.
Moments later, you stood before Syrax, her amber eyes regarding you with curiosity. Rhaenyra mounted first, turning to extend a hand toward you. With a steadying breath, you took it, climbing up behind her. The familiar warmth and solidity of the dragon beneath you sent a thrill through your veins.
As Syrax took to the skies, the world below melted into a blur, the wind whipping past your face, filling you with a heady mix of freedom and anticipation. The Red Keep loomed on the horizon, and though the memories it held were still etched in your heart, you were ready to return.
The dragon soared over the city, its powerful wings casting shadows over the spires and rooftops of King’s Landing. You felt your resolve strengthen with every beat of Syrax’s wings. This time, you would face your past with an unyielding heart, ready to carve out your own place within the castle walls, no longer bound by the innocence you had left behind.
And with Rhaenyra by your side, you knew that whatever awaited you in the Red Keep, you would face it with the strength and grace that had become yours alone.
Your sister’s bedchamber was filled with a quiet sense of tension and weariness. The curtains were drawn, keeping out the bright midday sun, and the room was cast in a soft, dim light. She lay in the center of the grand bed, looking pale and fragile against the rich, embroidered pillows. Her golden hair, though still lovely, was limp and faintly tangled, her once-vibrant complexion dulled from the strain of childbirth. The sight of her lying there, so vulnerable, stirred a mixture of sympathy and something more complicated within you.
“Sister,” she greeted you softly, managing a weak but warm smile. She looked at you with a gaze that seemed to reach across the distance the years had created between you. “Thank you for coming.”
You nodded, stepping forward to take her hand in yours, noticing the thinness of her fingers. “Of course,” you replied gently, the words feeling almost too light for the weight of your shared history.
“I wish I could greet you properly,” she murmured, glancing down as if ashamed. “It feels like all my strength has left me.”
“You’ve been through a lot,” you said quietly. “You don’t have to do anything right now but rest and recover.”
She nodded, giving you a grateful look, though her expression faltered as her eyes clouded with some unspoken thought. “It was a girl,” she said, voice faintly trembling. “Not the heir Daemon had wanted.”
You felt a pang of anger on her behalf. She had risked her life to bring this child into the world, and yet the news was marred by Daemon’s disappointment. “She’s still your child, and she’ll have your strength,” you said, squeezing her hand gently. “That’s worth far more than any title.”
A sad, tired smile tugged at her lips, and her eyes softened as she looked at you. “Look at you … you have grown into a beautiful lady. You seem so much stronger now,” she whispered, her voice full of admiration. “I missed you all these years. I know I have no right to ask it, but… will you stay? At least until I’m well enough to manage on my own?”
There was a deep vulnerability in her gaze that cut through the old resentment, a reminder that she, too, had faced her own battles. You nodded, giving her hand another reassuring squeeze. “I’ll stay,” you promised. “Whatever you need.”
Before she could respond, the door opened behind you. Turning, you saw Daemon entering the room, his face unreadable as he took in the sight of you beside your sister’s bed.
“Uncle,” you said, nodding in acknowledgment, your voice cool but civil.
As Daemon’s gaze traveled over you, you could feel the intensity of his attention, lingering on every detail. His eyes traced the graceful curve of your neck, lingering at the hollow of your throat where your pulse beat steadily, betraying none of the mixed emotions churning within. His look dipped lower, pausing at the delicate lines of your collarbones framed elegantly by the neckline of your gown. You felt the weight of his gaze settle there, as though he was savoring each small change in you since he’d last seen you.
A subtle heat spread over your skin as his eyes lingered, taking in the soft contours of your waist, the quiet strength in the way you carried yourself, the sense of calm restraint woven into every movement. The longer he looked, the more evident it became that he noticed every detail—the faint glow in your cheeks, the natural elegance of your posture, the way the tailored gown accentuated the gentle curve of your figure, refined and matured since your last encounter.
As Daemon’s gaze traveled over you, you could feel the intensity of his attention, lingering on every detail. His eyes traced the graceful curve of your neck, lingering at the hollow of your throat where your pulse beat steadily, betraying none of the mixed emotions churning within. His look dipped lower, pausing at the delicate lines of your collarbones framed elegantly by the neckline of your gown. You felt the weight of his gaze settle there, as though he was savoring each small change in you since he’d last seen you.
“Back from the edges of the realm, I see,” he said, his voice smooth and carrying a faint undercurrent of intrigue. His eyes traveled from the gentle slope of your shoulders to the way you now held yourself with quiet confidence, an air of poise you’d cultivated through months of growth and careful self-possession. “It seems time away has… agreed with you.”
A subtle heat spread over your skin as his eyes lingered, taking in the soft contours of your waist, the quiet strength in the way you carried yourself, the sense of calm restraint woven into every movement. The longer he looked, the more evident it became that he noticed every detail—the faint glow in your cheeks, the natural elegance of your posture, the way the tailored gown accentuated the gentle curve of your figure, refined and matured since your last encounter.
“Thank you, my lord,” you replied, inclining your head with the perfect touch of reserve, though a part of you reveled in the way his gaze lingered.
He nodded, though he didn’t pull his gaze away as quickly as propriety might demand. His eyes trailed over the gentle curve of your lips, lingering just long enough to stir a deep thrill within you. The smoldering intensity in his gaze felt as if he were seeing you fully for the first time, each subtle transformation, each newfound layer.
You took a steadying breath, feeling the weight of Daemon’s gaze still resting on you, hot and lingering. In a moment of collected grace, you inclined your head once more, summoning a polite smile to veil the turbulence beneath your calm exterior.
“If you’ll excuse me, my lord,” you said, your voice soft yet composed. “It’s been a long journey, and I should take some rest.” You allowed your gaze to drift past him, finding your sister still reclined in her bed, watching the exchange with an expression of relief mixed with gratitude.
You moved to her bedside, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her hand. “Rest well, sister,” you whispered, the tenderness in your tone genuine. She offered you a faint smile in return, her fingers squeezing yours lightly as she murmured her thanks. Without sparing Daemon another glance you turned around and exited the room.
As you left, you could feel his gaze following you, searing into your back as though it had the power to reach through layers of fabric and the composed mask you wore. Only once the door closed behind you did you allow yourself to exhale, heart racing from the intensity of that encounter.
The days that followed were filled with a quiet kind of purpose. You spent part of each day in your sister’s chambers, helping her recover as she regained her strength little by little. You would sit beside her, quietly assisting her with whatever small comforts she needed. She seemed grateful for your presence, her hand often reaching for yours as though seeking comfort from some unspoken wound.
Outside of these private moments, you found yourself drawn into the rhythm of court life, engaging with nobles, attendants, and visiting dignitaries. You navigated these interactions with a newfound confidence, a quiet charm that seemed to intrigue those around you. But no matter where you went or with whom you spoke, you felt the familiar weight of Daemon’s gaze from across the hall, a constant, burning presence that never seemed to waver.
On occasion, you would glance his way, only to find him studying you with that same intense, piercing stare. There was no mistaking his fascination —each time your eyes met, it felt as if he was peeling away the layers of distance and propriety, searching for the woman he now saw in you.
It was late one evening, after you’d bid your sister goodnight and retired to your chambers, that you felt a presence outside your door. The faint whisper of footsteps reached you, and before you could prepare yourself, the door burst open and Daemon stepped inside, quickly closing it behind him.
“What brings you here at this hour, my lord?” You tried to keep your voice steady, though your heart pounded with a mixture of surprise and anxious anticipation. His gaze was focused, piercing – it was nearly impossible to keep your calm.
His lips curved into a faint smirk, but his eyes never lost their focus, sharp and unapologetic. “I’ve been watching you,” he said, his voice low, edged with a dangerous hint of intrigue. He took a step closer, and you instinctively took a small step back, your fingers brushing the back of the chair beside you. His gaze roamed over you with a familiarity that was unsettling, a shadow of possessiveness in the way he looked at you. “Each day, you reveal another part of yourself. Something I hadn’t noticed before.”
For a heartbeat, you hesitated, glancing down in an effort to steady yourself. “My lord, I am a maiden, and it isn’t appropriate for you to be here,” you said, lifting your chin with a blend of bravery and caution. “If anyone were to see…”
Daemon’s eyes glinted with a hint of amusement at your words. “You shouldn’t worry about that – no one will see,” he replied, his tone smooth and easy, as though the matter of propriety were trivial. He moved closer, his presence enveloping the space between you. “Besides, I have no interest in the eyes of others. My interest lies solely with you.”
You steadied yourself, raising an eyebrow in quiet defiance, though your pulse betrayed the thrill rippling beneath your calm exterior. “Surely, with all your responsibilities, there are more pressing matters to occupy your attention,” you replied, challenging him – annoyed by his audacity. You hoped to steer the conversation toward some safer ground.
A spark of intrigue lit his gaze. “Perhaps,” he said, his tone growing softer, though he continued to close the distance between you, the intensity in his eyes darkening. “But none nearly as … captivating.”
The air between you grew taut, as if the space itself held a secret between the two of you, each searching for something in the other. You could feel his desire to break down the carefully constructed distance you had built in your time apart. He looked at you with such singular focus that it was hard not to be drawn in by it, hard not to feel yourself unraveling under the weight of his stare.
When he spoke again, his voice was softer, almost a murmur. “You may not realize how much you’ve changed,” he said, eyes flickering over you, tracing the slope of your neck until his eyes stopped at your décolleté.
You met his gaze, refusing to look away despite the memories of his past disregard. Those first dismissive words, his preference for a different woman altogether. But here he was now, his attention unwavering, as if each of those careless dismissals had been erased from his memory.
“Perhaps I have,” you replied, holding his gaze with a faint challenge. “But I’m not the only one who’s changed, am I?”
At that, his smirk faltered, his expression flickering to something more raw, unreadable. He reached out, his fingers brushing the fabric of your sleeve, a featherlight touch that nonetheless sent a thrill through you, catching you off guard. His fingers found your wrist, tracing gently along the skin, each stroke leaving a burning imprint.
“Perhaps I was a fool to overlook you,” he murmured, his voice reverent, his words weaving through the quiet space. His gaze lingered on your lips, tracing them in a way that made your heart pound faster, your defenses weakening.
After a moment’s pause, you inclined your head, a hint of defiance in your eyes. “You should leave, my prince,” you replied, stepping back just enough to break his touch, though the embers in your gaze told him far more than your words could convey. “Goodnight.”
For a moment, the room hung still. The intensity in his eyes burned into you, and yet, something in his expression shifted. The cool indifference he'd worn so often, the charming smile that had once been his armor, cracked. His jaw tightened, and his eyes darkened with frustration—sharp, predatory. His mouth opened as if to say something, but no words came. He was used to being pursued, used to commanding attention with ease. The dismissal stung, and it was clear to you that he had never expected you to turn him away so coldly, not after all the attention he'd lavished on you tonight.
Daemon's gaze flickered one last time to your face, and then, without another word, he turned on his heel. The abruptness of his departure left a tense silence in his wake. His footsteps echoed down the hall, fading into the distance, and you felt a rush of relief flood through you, the tension that had built up between you both dissolving with his exit.
You exhaled a quiet sigh, leaning back against the chair you had stepped away from, your heart still pounding from the exchange. The unsettling mix of exhilaration and frustration had left you breathless, yet part of you was grateful for the distance that now separated you from him. You had handled it—had maintained control, despite the overwhelming temptation to give in to his presence.
A few days passed, but it felt as though the tension between you and Daemon only thickened with each passing hour. He seemed to watch you more closely now, a constant presence that never strayed too far. You couldn’t escape his gaze, and though you tried to maintain your composure, the weight of it was unbearable at times.
That afternoon, you found yourself speaking with a younger lord who had been quite eager to engage you in conversation. He was attentive, listening intently as you spoke about the political goings-on at court. You found yourself enjoying the conversation, the laughter that flowed between you both coming easily. The lord’s hand was a little too close to yours as he laughed, his proximity felt almost too intimate, but you didn’t mind.
That was when you felt it—Daemon’s eyes upon you. You didn’t need to look to know his gaze was trained on you. His sharp, possessive stare burned through the air, and the laughter you had been enjoying faltered just slightly.
The lord didn’t seem to notice the shift, but you couldn’t help but feel the weight of Daemon’s stare, the intensity of it, as if his eyes were drawing a possessive line around you.
You made your excuses quickly, pulling away from the lord with a polite smile before leaving the conversation behind. Daemon’s gaze never left you, though, as you made your way through the crowded hall, his presence like a storm waiting to break.
That evening, you returned to your chambers, seeking solitude, but the silence didn’t last long. The door to your room opened without warning, and there stood Daemon, his posture rigid with a barely contained rage. His eyes, dark and stormy, locked onto you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat.
“My lord,” you said, maintaining a calm, polite tone, but your insides were anything but calm. “What brings you here at this hour?”
His lips curled into a cold smirk, but his gaze was heavy, almost predatory. “I’ve been watching you,” he said, his voice low and rough. “It seems you’ve forgotten your place, haven’t you?”
You took a step back, a slight instinctive movement, but he closed the distance between you in an instant, the tension in the air thickening like a storm ready to break. “Laughing with another man like that,” he growled, his voice sharper now, the edges laced with anger. “Allowing him to come so close… Do you enjoy making me watch?”
You straightened, lifting your chin, but your pulse quickened. “It is not my fault if others find me engaging in conversation, my lord,” you said, your voice tinged with a challenge.
Daemon’s smirk slipped into something more dangerous, his gaze narrowing. He stepped even closer, forcing you to tilt your head back slightly to meet his eyes. “You don’t fool me, sweetling,” he snarled, his voice suddenly cold and sharp. “I see how you play this game, pretending to be untouchable. But I know what you want.”
His hand shot out, grabbing your wrist with a brutal grip. The force of his touch made you gasp, but he didn’t release you. Instead, he tugged you closer, his voice now a low growl. “You think you can tease me like that, string me along, but it’s not a game anymore. You want me just as much as I want you, and I’m tired of waiting.”
Your chest tightened, your breath shallow as his words sank in. You tried to pull your wrist free, but his grip tightened, his fingers pressing hard against your skin.
Daemon’s other hand reached up, his thumb brushing the line of your jaw as he studied your face. “You may be playing coy with everyone else, but I see through you. I know the way your body reacts when I’m near, the way you can’t resist me. Stop pretending. I’ve been patient, but not anymore.”
The heat from his body radiated against yours, the air between you charged with raw, undeniable tension. His eyes raked over you hungrily, his lips barely an inch from yours as he spoke again, his voice thick with a mix of anger and desire.
“You don’t get to walk away from me anymore, little bird,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. “I won’t allow it. I want you, and I’ll have you, whether you like it or not.”
A shiver ran down your spine, and despite your desire to resist him, a flicker of excitement mixed with fear ignited deep within you. But you couldn’t let him see it. You couldn’t let him have that power over you.
“Let go of me, my lord,” you said, though your voice trembled despite your best efforts. “This is not appropriate. You are my sister’s husband, and you have no right to treat me this way.”
Daemon’s grip tightened, and for a moment, you thought he might not let you go at all. His eyes darkened further, the raw desire in them burning through you. “You can keep pretending if you want,” he growled, his voice low and menacing, “but I know what you feel. You’re just as hungry for this as I am. And when I’m finished with you, you won’t be able to pretend anymore.”
You swallowed hard, trying to collect yourself, but his presence was overwhelming, suffocating.
Finally, you managed to wrench your wrist free from his grasp, stepping back. You didn’t speak immediately, your chest rising and falling with the effort of controlling your breathing. The room felt too small, too hot, as Daemon stood there, watching you with an unreadable expression.
“I said,” you whispered through gritted teeth, “leave.”
Daemon's smirk deepened as he took another step forward. You tried to back away, but his grip on your wrist tightened. Daemon finally closed the space between you, the heat of his body made your pulse race. His fingers curled tighter around your wrist, not bruising, but forceful, as if to remind you that you were his — whether you wanted to admit it or not.
"You don’t get to play innocent anymore," he said, his voice low and rough, dripping with both frustration and desire. "You tease and you push me away, but I see the way you look at me. You want me just as much as I want you."
His face was inches from yours now, his eyes fierce and possessive, like a predator who had finally cornered its prey. You could feel his breath against your lips, warm and unrelenting. "I’ve been watching you. Watching you play with the others, laughing with them, letting them touch you – touch something that should be mine. But I’m done playing games."
You inhaled sharply, trying to muster the strength to push him away, but his grip tightened around your wrist, pinning you against the wall. "Daemon —"
"No," he growled, cutting you off, his mouth capturing yours in a forceful kiss before you could say another word. His lips were demanding, taking what he wanted with a brutal urgency. His other hand slid to your waist, pulling you even closer, as though he could melt into you, as though you were already his.
You tried to pull away, your mind screaming that you needed space, that this wasn’t right. But his hand moved to the back of your neck, holding you still as his kiss deepened, his tongue exploring your mouth with a hunger that left you breathless.
"Don’t you dare pull away from me," he muttered between kisses, his voice almost a growl. "You’ll stop pretending you’re untouched. You’ll stop pretending you don’t want this, because I can see it. You’re not fooling anyone. You’ve been waiting for me to claim you."
You tried to push against his chest, but he was unyielding, his body pressed so tightly against yours that you couldn’t move. His lips trailed from your mouth to your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as his hand slid lower, over the curve of your hip, his touch possessive and almost painful.
“I’ve been patient long enough,” Daemon murmured, his breath ragged. “And now, I’m taking what’s mine.”
With a sudden move, his lips found yours again, harder this time, as if he was trying to mark you as his own. His hands were everywhere — gripping, pulling, commanding. The urgency in his touch made your heart race, and though your mind screamed for you to stop him, you couldn’t ignore the way your body reacted to him — each touch sending shivers down your spine, making your pulse quicken.
“Daemon, please—" you tried again, but he pulled back just enough to look at you, his gaze dark and intense, a predatory gleam in his eyes.
“Hush now,” he shushed you, his voice low, almost warning. “There is no escape, sweetling. You’ll belong to me, and I’ll make sure you know it.”
His lips brushed over your neck again, his breath hot against your skin. The room seemed to close in around you, the weight of his presence making it hard to think, to breathe. He was overpowering you, pushing you into a corner, and yet, a part of you felt trapped by something far more dangerous than his physical presence.
You felt a fire, a heat, coursing through your veins as he touched you, and no matter how much you told yourself you should resist, a darker part of you wanted to give in. But this wasn’t just about attraction — it was power. Daemon was making it clear that he wanted to control you, to possess you completely.
“I want you,” he repeated, his voice rougher now. “And I will have you.”
He pressed his body harder against yours, forcing you back into the stone wall, his lips claiming yours once more in a kiss that left no room for doubt. Daemon wasn’t going to leave — not this time, not ever. You were his, and he was going to make sure to set his claim.
As he deepened the kiss, the realization settled like a weight in your chest. You had crossed a line. And Daemon Targaryen had no intention of letting you turn back.
First of all – thank you for all the love, interest and feedback!
I have been (still am) quite busy unfortunately and cannot update as regularly as I used to. In case someone noticed or is interested in the why: I finally started writing my Thesis – and let me tell you it is draining af and I am so incredibly slow. But I definitely started and I hope I can get into some sort of rhythm – which is hard, because I work 5 days a week and have a household to keep up with – oh, the perks of being an adult. 🫠 I also deal with otherwise emotionally draining stuff in my private life but oh well!
Now on to the actual reason of this post: I want to celebrate having found so many nice people, who are interested in the same stuff as me and want to write a special drabble!
Please vote for which character and if you have any suggestions on the themes, genres etc. let me know in the comments! Thank you! ❤️
Let me know which character you want for the special
How often do you think the Slytherin boys pleasure themselves? 😏
Slytherin Boys – How often would they masturbate?
Warning: Not proofread!
Mattheo …
… who would probably jack off almost every day.
… who would be sleepless in bed, tossing and turning while trying to fall asleep until he finally decides to pleasure himself in hopes of putting his body into a state off relaxation.
… who’d be in the middle of taking a shower, his hand moving lower to clean his genitals until cleaning it turns to tugging on his hard member until he spills into his fist.
… who’d cave on the fifth day of no-nut-November – who was he kidding? He couldn’t last a whole week.
… who’d have to use his hand more frequently if he was in love with someone that he cannot be intimate with yet – after dates, cuddle sessions, a particularly spicy dream or after watching you yell at someone for almost knocking your friend over. He loves your temper.
Theodore …
… who would be too lazy to pleasure himself – either he has someone to take care of it for him, or he’ll just try to endure
… who rarely does it himself – he has enough people vying for his attention – but will do it if he does get desperate.
… who loves to do it in the bathtub – if he’s pleasuring himself, he’s gonna enjoy it to the fullest.
Lorenzo …
… who has phases during which he is horny all the time.
… who’ll sneak out of his classes just to find a secluded spot to push his pants and boxers down, wrapping his hand around his member – the thrill of being caught gets him going.
… who’ll be adventurous about jacking off at different places in Hogwarts – the library is one of his favorites.
Draco …
… who won’t have such a wild sex drive – he’ll pleasure himself once a week or whenever he has wet dreams which are quite rare given that his nights are either sleepless or plagued by nightmares.
… who always feels dirty afterwards.
… who needs complete silence to get hard – if there is any kind of fear or stress, he just won’t get hard.
Blaise …
… who’ll wake up late on a Sunday morning and lazily tug on his cock until he spills into his shorts.
… who sometimes likes to tease himself, wanting to see how long he can draw it out.
… who will come up with weird challenges to see how long he can go without masturbating until he comes in his sleep one day – his boxers embarrassingly wet.
Tom …
… who’s too busy to bother with such base desires.
… who rather has someone else help him or else he is just too lazy to do it himself – it’s not as erotic or relieving if it’s not done by someone else.
… who will give in and finally fist his cock after having waking up from wet dreams day after day – he needed seep to function.
toxic!slytherins react to loging into your socials without you knowing and you find out
Slytherin Boys – Logging into your socials
Warning: Toxic boys! Not proofread.
PS: Requests are open! (I also write for GOT, HOTD and Peaky Blinders)
Mattheo …
… curses silently as he turns to look at you with big eyes.
… thinks of displaying vulnerability but that is just not his cup of tea.
… gets aggressive if you demand he logs off.
… will accuse you of cheating on him – which he honestly believes – and completely catches you off guard as he jumps up from his bed and corners you.
… will take a step back if you flinch – the action adding more fuel to his fire.
…. Throws his phone against the wall, smashing it in the process, before storming out of his room.
Theodore …
… tries to play it off cool. If he doesn’t how any sign of guilt, there is nothing to be guilty about – right?
… will turn the tables if you dare to scold and question him. Were you hiding something? Would narrow his eyes at you, your own resolve and anger melting away as your shoulders slumped in defeat.
… would have you apologizing to him within seconds.
… regularly checks your socials – if you have nothing to hide, you have nothing to fear after all.
… would never give you the password to his socials. Did you not trust him?
Lorenzo …
… wasn’t caught in the act per se but you found out afterwards. You had checked one of your chats with another male student and were shocked to read the things you supposedly wrote.
… smiles at you when you walk up to him, the smile on his face turning into a tight-lipped one when you continue to glare daggers at him.
… immediately denies having logged onto your socials or written those messages.
… is careful not to show any signs of distress or worry – he would admit to nothing.
… questions your loyalty to him while forcing tears into his eyes – cause, how dare you accuse him of all people of doing such a thing?
Draco …
… would blatantly lie about him finding out your password and logging in.
… tells you that you had logged in on his phone because you had wanted to show him something, but your phone battery was dead.
… continued feeding you more details when he saw the doubt swirling in your eyes – and after a few more comforting words he had you in the palm of his hand.
Blaise …
… would try to think of an excuse that might save his ass.
… would claim he was trying to find out about the things you liked because he was looking for the perfect gift for you.
… could see in your eyes that you weren’t buying it … so he opted for the truth. Well, a half-truth. Kinda.
… told you he had been hearing many rumors about you and he grew insecure and just had to check to ease his mind.
… would promise to never do it again, because he knew it was wrong and stupid (it wasn’t). He’d continue checking whenever he felt like it.
Tom …
… wouldn’t be caught – and if for some reason he did get caught he’d just make you forget about it.
Like shes SO pretty that everyone has a crush on her,attention is always on her,shes just beautiful and the face of Hogwarts
Slytherin Boys – Their partner is the face of Hogwarts
Warning: Toxic boys! Not proofread as always.
Mattheo …
… is honestly torn between loving and hating it. He was obsessed in love with your beauty, and he basked in the envious glares thrown his way for being your boyfriend, but he also absolutely hated the idea that other people probably got off on you.
… wants to hide you from the world sometimes – when he is feeling low or whenever something triggers his jealousy, which obviously happens way too often to be considered healthy anymore.
… would try to make you wear modest clothing and constantly told you that you did not need any make-up or whatever else you used to enhance your beauty.
… would be more aggressive with you admirers behind your back – it got worse the deeper he felt for you.
… can be mean to you, whenever you don’t agree with him and stubbornly insist to dress up.
“Babe, you are beautiful the way you are. There is no need for all of that – or are you so desperate for attention?”
Theodore …
… is cocky because he finally found his equal. He knew that all the girls were in love with him and that even some boys’ eye lingered on him for longer than necessary, so it was normal for him to have the prettiest partner – right? Right. At least until you outshone even him.
… would clench his jaw whenever the two of you were stopped by some pathetic male asking you for something – anything. A scoff leaving his lips whenever you agreed to help with whatever problem – cause, how dare you? You were just too sweet for your own good.
… screamed internally, whenever you cancelled your plans with him, because a fourth year desperately needed tutoring. His mood ruined for the day. His anger would find its peak when he would see you in Hogsmeade with that student.
… would be annoyed by you at some point. The less people saw him the more he actually started to dislike you.
“They are just using you because you are so gullible. It’s annoying really.”
Lorenzo …
… immediately hates the attention – he should be the only one to look at you with those eyes and the thought of half of the school staring at you lovestruck made his skin crawl with badly contained anger.
… would go out of his way to draw the people’s attention to himself instead. If that didn’t work, he’d just start claiming you publicly: kissing you in the corridors whenever no professor was around, leaving hickeys in obvious places and always having an arm wrapped around your waist possessively.
… his patience snaps if one of his boys actually shows interest in you.
“Love, come here … let’s skip that double-date … you wouldn’t even like my friend – he’s an ass.”
Draco …
… wears you on his arm like a rolex Daytona.
… every compliment directed at you fed his own ego.
… bought you designer clothes and expensive jewelry to make you stand out even more – honestly, he would treat his partner like a dress up doll.
… would hate it if you were to pay attention to any of your admirers though. You were his – and you were definitely not allowed to engage in any conversation with those dimwits without him by your side.
“Doll, would you please wear that pretty black dress that I got you last week? We’ll be having dinner with the boys.”
Blaise …
… is stressed. He knows the minds of pervy teenagers, and it unsettles him to know that so many are obsessed with you.
… would wake up extra early to accompany you to breakfast and/or your first class.
… would run through the halls to get to you as quickly as possible if you didn’t have the same classes.
… would probably also threaten someone that made you feel uncomfortable or belittle them in front of a crowd, always watching them rush away with a satisfied smirk on his face.
“Don’t worry, babe. He deserved that.”
Tom …
… doesn’t notice your admirers at first. But when he does … he hates it. Absolutely detests the attention you get.
… would find it annoying and inconvenient.
… would drag you along if someone tried talking to you and just force you away from that person.
… would scare everyone who approaches you – and due to his friends and minions he always knows about everything – even if he wasn’t with you when it happened.
… would definitely murder someone if they took it too far without batting an eye.
“The annoying Gryffindor boy disappeared? How curious.”
toxic!boys react to their friends having a crush on you(pls focus more on theo Babes🙏)
They started dating you and are genuinley obsessed.They wanted to show you off like their pretty little girl but when they take you to meet their friends,they realise each of their friends gave a crush on you
Slytherin Boys – Introducing you to their friends
Warning: Toxic boys, jealousy and most importantly: not proofread.
A/N: Sorry it took so long! Trying to get back into writing and working towards some sort of rhythm. Enjoy!
BTW: Requests are still closed – I still have so many works in progress. 😭
Mattheo …
… is shook when he notices the way Lorenzo is eyeing you.
… immediately wraps his arm around you, pulling you into his side as he glares at the other boy who seems to be mesmerized by your beauty.
… feels slightly threatened – he knows that Lorenzo was considered the prince charming of the school.
… immediately excuses the both of you when he noticed that the others were staring at you with heart-eyes as well.
… would try to keep you away from his friends.
Theodore …
… was so cocky when he walked into the common room with his arm around your shoulder. You had dressed up nicely for the occasion – slightly nervous to meet his friends. You had opted to wear a milkmaid-dress – his favorite – his eyes moved from his friends to your cleavage, tracing every single curve that he could see greedily.
… turned his head back towards his friends with a proud look on his face. But as soon as he did, his smirk fell right off his face. The boys were all ogling you – their eyes fixated on your cleavage.
… would be so pissed – he’d immediately narrow his eyes at his friends, who were too busy checking you out, until he finally cleared his throat to get their attention.
… would move the arm resting on your shoulder lower, wrapping it around your waist instead before pressing a kiss against your head.
… would introduce you, putting emphasis on the words “my” and “girlfriend”, “This is my girlfriend. Amore, these are the boys I have told you about.”
… stays glued to your side, his hand on your thigh as you sat down on one of the couches while the other arm was wrapped around you. You had to bite back a giggle at this new clingy side of your boyfriend. When you noticed how jealous he was, you’d definitely use the situation to tease him and make him sweat a bit. You’d bend down slightly while talking, pressing your chest up as you talked to Mattheo. The corner of your lips tugged upwards when the hand on your thigh tightened.
… suddenly stood up, pulling you with him by your hand.
… dragged you out without a single word. Where to? You didn’t know.
Lorenzo …
… would enjoy the attention you got from his boy at first.
… was incredibly proud to have such a gorgeous partner – the reaction of his friends fueled his ego … at first. After the initial introduction the boys tried getting closer to you. Talking to you and asking you all kinds of questions.
… would start to feel a pang of jealousy as he noticed the way they were all vying for your attention, their admiration turning into a potential threat.
… would subtly try to steer the conversation back to something else, frowning when someone managed to make it about you again.
… couldn't help but glare at any friend who got too close or seemed too interested, his protective side coming out in full force.
… wouldn’t want you to meet his friends again and would always get super pissed whenever one of the boys asked about you.
Draco …
… would be the epitome of calm and collected when introducing you to his friends, confident in his status and your loyalty.
… would secretly feel a twinge of possessiveness when he saw the way his friends looked at you, though he would never let it show on his face.
… would subtly make it clear that you were his, either through a possessive hand on your lower back or a proprietary kiss on your temple.
… would grow slightly insecure if you laughed at their jokes, wondering if you had just as much fun with only him.
Blaise …
… would be chill about it – quietly observing, noticing every glance and every whisper from his friends when you walked into the room.
… would feel a mix of pride and jealousy, proud to have such a stunning partner but jealous of the attention you received.
… would subtly insert himself into conversations, ensuring that he was always part of any interaction you had with his friends.
… would glare at Mattheo who had grown increasingly daring, forcing himself into the space between you and him.
… would sigh deeply before standing up and asking you if you wanted to go to Hogsmeade before whisking you away from his greedy friends.
Tom …
… would be intensely focused on you, his piercing gaze making it clear to everyone in the room that you belonged to him.
… would not tolerate any form of disrespect or unwanted attention from his friends, shutting down any attempts to get too close with a single, cold look.
… would be extremely possessive, keeping you close to him at all times and making sure everyone knew you were his.
… would have to constantly kick Mattheo under the table, who was the only one brave enough to ignore all his warnings.
Requested by: @reagan10108 – hope you'll like it! ❤️
Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?
So intense – Daemon is extremely temperamental and fiery, which definitely bleeds into his relationship with his significant other as well. A relationship with him would be extremely passionate but also tiring and suffocating. He’d shower his partner with affection whenever he could with small gestures, lots and lots of physical touch and slow songs hummed against his partner’s temple at night.
Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?
We’re talking about the Rogue Prince, so … he’d paint the whole world red just for his darling.
Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?
This depends on his darling. If his darling rejects and fights him, he’ll be cruel and mock the reader until they break. He’ll be relentless in breaking you.
If the darling is scared, he’d take a softer approach. But he’d still make sure that they understand that there is no way out for the darling – the only escape is death.
Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?
This one is hard … I don’t necessarily see him as someone who’d force himself on his darling because he’s too proud and does not want to be a monster. But I also think that he’d have his limits too, which means, that he’d resort to manipulating his darling into sleeping with him if he had too. And he’s not known for his patience either.
Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?
He’d definitely be the most vulnerable with his darling, but I don’t see him opening up that fast into their relationship. It would take a lot of trust for him to open up, which is quite difficult given the context.
Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?
He’d be riled up – torn between loving and hating the fire in his darling’s eyes. But one thing’s sure: He’d grow uncomfortably hard as he yanked their head back by their hair, the cute frown on his darling’s face only adding to the fire burning through his veins.
Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?
During his youth I can see Daemon loving the chase but the older he gets the less he would want to deal with such nonsense. He’d rather have his darling trapped on his lap while enjoying their warmth.
Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?
Even if he does enjoy the chase, the consequences would be grave for his darling. A moon after being abducted and his darling growing more comfortable around him, Daemon had relaxed a little. He’d allowed his darling to roam around the gardens under his watchful eyes – the Targaryen prince enjoying his darling’s relaxed features.
One day, after returning to his chambers, his darling had hugged him tightly, thanking him for the new freedom they had received. Daemon had chuckled lowly, as his hands stroked over their back fondly. He had let go of his darling, turning around to grab a cup from the table, his other hand reaching for the jug of wine only for his hand to come up empty. Weird. The Rogue Prince frowned until realization washed over him. The hairs on the back of his neck raised and before he could whip around to face his darling something hard was whacked over his head.
He momentarily lost focus, his head throbbing from the impact and his eyes burning from the wine dripping into his eyes. He could hear his partner’s footsteps rushing out of the room.
And that was his darling’s first attempt at escaping Daemon. It was also the first time Daemon had forced himself on his darling.
Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?
Daemon wishes for peace and serenity, with the occasional excursions on dragon back. If his darling can have children, he’d have as many as they could. If not, he’d be content with indulging in his darling for as long as he could.
Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?
100 % do not recommend making Daemon jealous. It would be difficult not to make him jealous. No matter who his darling talked to, looked at, breathed at – he’d be suspicious if not jealous. His way of coping would entail taking it out on his darling in the bedroom or fighting whoever came close to you.
Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?
In the privacy of his chambers, he’d be softer and calmer with his darling. Outside, in front of others, he’d be on high alert. He’d be tense, grumpy and extremely protective.
Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?
Daemon isn’t one to shy away from a challenge – and courting his darling would be one of many challenges he’d face. He’d be chivalrous, gifting you jewelry with his houses crest to mark you as his. He’d watch out for his darling and always tell the kitchens to prepare your favorites whenever they were there. But his chivalry only lasted for so long – if his darling rejected his advances or played hard to get he’d resort to more drastic measures.
Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?
He is mischievous and manipulative yes, but he’s not someone who’d hide behind a mask.
Naughty: How would they punish their darling?
He’d be quite mean about it – he’d degrade his darling and spank them. If his darling wants to act bratty, he’ll treat them like one.
If it’s more drastic he’d isolate the reader completely.
Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?
At the beginning he’d completely restrict his darling. His darling would have to earn his trust to be allowed more privileges. The darling wouldn’t be allowed to walk around without him or talk to people that weren’t part of his family.
Daemon would even control his darling’s outfits – they would always have to wear his colors and their jewelry with the Targaryen crest.
Patience: How patient are they with their darling?
Not at all. He has had to wait a lifetime for his niece until he finally gave up, enraptured by his darling, so, why should he wait? He’d want his darling immediately.
Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?
If his darling escapes, he’d look for them everywhere until he found them. He’ll only stop looking for his darling if he has them in his arms or if he is physically unable to.
If his darling dies in his arms, he’d try to preserve their body for as long as he could – not ready to ever let go of his darling.
Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?
No. This man knows no regrets.
Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?
He is a Targaryen – I guess the coin landed on the wrong side.
But also: Second-born-son-syndrome. (Spare-Syndrome)
Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?
He wouldn’t be necessarily sad but instead it would aggravate and provoke him. Why were you acting up? Why wouldn’t you just accept him? He was spoiling you rotten and you still didn’t appreciate all his efforts?
He’d demand you to stop crying, gripping your chin harshly while spitting the words against your lips.
Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?Due to the power he holds as a prince and a dragon rider he’d have it easier in many aspects: abducting his darling on dragon back would be like a walk through the park. He could take his darling anywhere and no one could do anything – no one would dare to. He’s the Rogue Prince after all.
Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?There are no weaknesses.
Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?
Yes, I can see Daemon manhandling and hurting his darling. (Have you seen the way he chocked Nyra?)
Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?
He’d have to have his darling – 100 %. He’d secretly worship his darling but wouldn’t make it obvious – he couldn’t allow any openings for his darling to use.
Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?
As mentioned above, he has wasted so many years pining after his niece but now that he has his darling, his new obsession, he cannot wait any longer. So, he’d snap pretty fast.
Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?
Yes – even if unintentionally.
I honestly don't know if I have a type and it shouldn't have been this difficult to choose four – but here I am! Sorry for taking so long and I honestly don't know who to tag. 😭 So just feel free to reblog and share your fave crushes with us! ❤️ And thank you for tagging me @lenoraslament! ❤️ (Hope I tagged the right person 🥹)
Hello!could you write something for daemon targaryen x reader?
She is part of rhaenyras advisors and she is very cunning and smart, she also has a very private life and doesnt care for daemon in the slightess.
Daemon follows her one day to discover more about her and he finds her looking at a man and smiling to herself.
Now he can see all that he didnt before and how another has the love that he will never experience.
Nothing burns hotter than Dragon fire
Daemon Targaryen x Reader (well, not really – it's one-sided)
Warning: Not proofread.
There you were again, with that cunning smile and his niece on your tail following you around like a little duckling. He was used to everyone else following Rhaenyra around, drawing everyone in like moths to a flame. But you … you just had something special. Almost magical in the way you held yourself like a true Targaryen. Except you were not. This confused Daemon greatly you were always in the middle of thing – whenever there was laughter you were involved, whenever his niece went flying you were with her and whenever most people around your age needed help, they would easily be found next to you. You were not Targaryen, yet you held yourself with so much pride and grace one could easily mistake you for one.
At first, he hadn’t taken notice of you. You lacked everything he was looking for – those things mainly being Valyrian attributes. You were a well-mannered beauty, yet you seemed plain – but how would he know? The prince knew nothing about you.
The more the Rogue Prince saw you around his niece, the more he was able to observe you. To protect his niece – that’s what he would claim if anyone were to ask. If anyone dared to ask.
Spending more time with you proved to be rather difficult … for him. Your obvious lack of interest hurt his pride, he was a Targaryen Prince for fuck’s sake and yet you still never even spared him a glance.
How rude.
But instead of detesting you for your arrogance it made him desire you even more – he couldn’t stop thinking about you and that stupid melodious laugh of yours. After the realization hit him, he sought you and Rhaenyra out more and more. Sometimes he found his niece by herself and instead of being disappointed he’d use the chance to ask about you, but his niece was almost as cunning as you – she’d leave without answering and that provocative smirk on her face.
The first time he saw you alone in one of the corridors he considered himself lucky, his eyes lit up as he made his way towards you, but his face fell immediately when you nodded shortly at him as you walked past him. Everything in him had screamed at him to just grasp your hand but his pride did not let him. Instead, he clenched his fists as he forced himself to continue walking.
The first time he dreamed of you, was the one thing that drove him out of his shell. In his dream you had snuck into his room in the middle of the night, climbing into his bed, dressed in a satin robe. You had climbed onto his lab, straddling him with your warm, bare thighs as your fingers ghosted over his revealed chest. He could still feel your weight on him after he woke up – his stomach still tingled as if you had just removed your fingers, his cock throbbed when closed his eyes again, the images of you grinding down on him unfolding in front of him. When he opened his eyes again, he knew he had to have you.
What he hadn’t expected, however, was to find you smiling shyly at one of the Kings Guards, your small hand on the tall man’s shoulder. Daemon walked closer, his eyes fixated on the man as the Guard smiled warmly at you before walking away. The Targaryen prince watched you turn around to steal one last look at the man with a lovestruck smile on your face.
toxic boys react to hooking up with popular!reader who everyone has a massive crush on and they find out shes a virgin?
and can it also include the morning after?xoxo
Slytherin Boys – Being your first
Warning: Toxic boys (is this considered toxic?), not proofread
Have fun!
Mattheo …
… who’d feel like he had won the lottery.
… who’d be on cloud nine for finally having you on his bed between his messy sheets.
… whose eyes would light up when he found out you were a virgin.
… who would be so much gentler with you after finding out – wanting everything to be more memorable for you.
… who is confused when you’re still in his bed in the morning – albeit kind of happy.
… who’ll sneak out of the bed and send his dormmates a thumbs-up when they look at him with raised brows, as he waltzes into the bathroom.
You are one of his trophies now.
Theodore …
… who’ll have a huge smirk on his face when you agree to go to his room. He’ll wrap his arm around you and lead you to his room with his chin raised.
… who’ll push you against his closed door before moving things to his bed.
… who’d be very intense – almost overwhelmingly so – until you told him that you were a virgin.
… who’d slow down after that – he had initially planned to rush through foreplay but now he knew he couldn’t.
… who’d watch you sleep – almost freaking out when he felt his stomach flutter traitorously.
… who’d stand up and sleep on one of the couches in the (now empty) common room instead – he couldn’t catch feelings. He wouldn’t.
Lorenzo …
… who would scream internally (in glee) when you returned his kiss.
… who’d force himself to break the kiss when it got too intense just to throw you over his shoulder, needing to get you somewhere private.
… who fully intended to fuck you by the end of the night.
… who’d be nervous when you were alone in his room – scared of you rejecting his advances.
… whose eyes darkened when you laid down on his bed, pulling him down with you until he was perched on top of you.
… whose restraint would completely melt away when he found out that he would be your first.
… who would be attached to you after that. He would spoon you from behind as you fell asleep afterwards. Waking up next you in the morning felt extremely rewarding and the sensation he felt when you sleepily smiled at him with your eyes still closed left him addicted to you.
Draco …
… who’s all nerves, screaming inside, as he walks up to you.
… whose shoulders immediately relax, his lips tugging up into a wide smirk when you hold his hand with a shy smile.
… who’ll be silent as he walks into the room his nerves returning when he was finally alone with you.
… who relaxes the moment you tell him that you had never done this before – the pressure lifted off his shoulders.
… who forgets himself as soon as he is nestled in you.
… who’ll immediately fall asleep after finishing.
… who’ll brag about it to his friends.
Blaise …
… who’ll use the opportunity to show you what he is capable off, pampering you with all the love and attention every teenager dreams of.
… who’ll be extra attentive and careful when he finds out you’re still a virgin. He’ll groan when you tell him – the thought of being the first shooting straight into his groin.
… aftercare king – he’ll kiss you softly afterwards and helps you clean before getting you into fresh clothes.
… who’ll cuddle you all night until both of you fall asleep.
… who is the only one to wake up after you.
… who’ll smile softly at you, blinking his eyes open when he feels your wandering fingers.
Tom …
… who already knew he’d be the first.
… who’d smirk at you knowingly when you stared at him with wide insecure eyes as he undressed in front of you. It was painfully obvious that you had never laid your eyes on another male. Good.
… who’d take his time in undressing you, teasing you before finally really touching you.
… who wouldn’t be as gentle – he was sure you would like it anyway.
… who’d draw out several orgasms before being satisfied.
… who’d be gone in the morning – leaving you high and dry.
toxic!obsessed!boys who finalky get to fuck you,the girl of their dreams but only last a few seconds?joe goldberg inspired!!
Slytherin Boys – They come too quickly
Warning: (Not so) toxic boys! Not proofread!
A/N: Sorry – I've been busy and absolutely did not have the time or energy to write. I've also been sick (still am), so so sorry again!
Mattheo …
… would be horribly ashamed – completely devastated.
… froze the second his orgasm washed over him – unable to enjoy it as he felt his dick grow embarrassingly soft. He had failed you.
… wouldn’t know how to recover from that – his ego is wounded.
… if you burst out laughing (honestly you had expected so much more from him) he’d get angry really fast. He’d probably fault you for his shortcoming before pushing himself away from you.
… would melt into your arms if you tried reassuring him – he’d slowly kiss his way down after his now flaccid dick slipped out of you – promising to make you feel great in a different way. At least until he was ready to go again.
Theodore …
… tries to ignore it. He would bite back any sound and continue thrusting into you, his hands fisting the sheets as he desperately hoped to stay hard. But alas – his dick fails him.
… groans loudly, the sound muffled as he presses his face into the crook of your neck, biting into your shoulder as his big hands squeeze your hips roughly.
… teasingly tells you that it was because you were just too hot – he couldn’t handle it.
Lorenzo …
… is pissed because it is over too soon.
… is scared that you will never want to sleep with him again.
… wants to hide it at first as well – but the way his cock throbs inside of you followed by his spent leaking out – there was simply no way he could hide it.
… groans loudly as he pulls out and hides his face in your chest.
… will ask you to give him a minute – he’ll have to make you forget about it – which means he’ll have to entertain you the whole night.
Draco …
… is utterly humiliated – like wth? And to top it off he made a pathetic sound as he came.
… would probably rush out – it doesn’t matter if it happened in his own dorm room – he’ll leave. He has toleave. His ego is deeply wounded.
… will disappear for days.
… will refuse to talk about it and pretend like nothing happened after a few days.
Blaise …
… would be the most chill about it.
… would just whisper something along the lines of “The things you do to me, babe.” Instead of thinking of it as an embarrassment he’ll use it to emphasize how in love he is with you.
… would chuckle lowly as he pressed a kiss against your temple – promising that he would last longer the next time.
Tom …
… is angry. Mad. Livid. Embarrassed.
… would 100 % obliviate you to erase it from your memory without batting an eyelash.
… would then start again after calming down and pretend that the mishap never happened.
