#daniel wager x y/n

[sacredjake]

Fast Times

pairing: Danny Wagner x Reader

word count: 4.6k

warnings: fluff, biker danny (bc yes that deserves a warning)

disclaimer: please, please, please be exremely cautious about riding motorcycles and always make sure you wear the correct gear. and please do not ride on the back of a strangers bike for the first time… or maybe in general? stranger danger y’all!

a/n: hi y’all! hope you enjoy biker!danny

should out to @malany-gvf for proofreading and allowing me to bounce ideas off her <3 and thank you to @gold-mines-melting for giving me feedback on the moodboard, i definitely think this is the perfect one :) thank you both so much!!! <3333 love y’all!

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The grocery store was fairly busy, it was a Saturday after all. People milled about getting their groceries, necessities and whatnot, filling most of the aisles you traveled down. You hated going to the store on the weekends, but you needed a few things and today was one of your few off days, so here you were. Thankfully you didn’t need more than a couple of items.

You muttered a few apologies as you pushed the cart past other customers down the aisle before stopping in front of the pasta. Your eyes raked over the shelves trying to find the specific pasta that you wanted. Finally you were able to spot it on the top shelf.

“Great…” You huffed with a sigh, realizing the box was just out of your reach. Taking a look around you noticed most of the aisle had cleared out, so you walked closer to the shelves, and stepped lightly on the bottom one. Even with the extra step up, your fingers barely grazed the box.

The more you tried to grab the box, the further you pushed it back with each sweep of your fingers. Just as you were about to give up, a hand plucked the box from behind your fingers. A very large hand. Your eyes trailed up from the hand next to yours to land on the man next to you. He was tall, with beautiful, dark brown curly hair, soft brown eyes, and he was wearing a crooked smile. He was very attractive. And he was holding the box of pasta out to you.

You cleared your throat as you stepped down, feeling the heat of embarrassment creep up your throat and into your cheeks. “Ah, thanks…” You carefully took the box from the handsome stranger and tried your best to avoid looking at him again. Your face was red enough already.

“No worries.” He gave you a soft smile before he walked away. You watched as he got further down the aisle and caught his eyes one last time as he glanced back at you from over his shoulder. He disappeared around the corner, shaking you from your deer-in-headlights state.

You pushed the attractive stranger out of your mind and continued your shopping by grabbing the last two things on your list. While you waited in the self-checkout line you spotted the man again at a register in front of you. You watched him scan the few items he had and pay for his belongings until it was your turn. He was wearing black skinny jeans, white vans, and a “The Church of Rock and Roll” shirt that had been made into a tank top, the slits on the sides easily reaching down to his ribs, with a pair of black ray bans hanging from the neck of his shirt.

Just as you were walking up to an empty register, he was packing away his things into a small bag. A few minutes later you did the same, and walked out to your car once everything was paid for and placed back into the cart. You unlocked your trunk and began carefully placing everything inside making sure nothing would fall over.

As you shut the trunk and walk the cart towards the corral, you could hear the sound of a motorcycle pulling in beside you. The driver had parked right next to your driver side and had set the kick stand out, letting the bike rest while still being on.

It was a small black Harley cruiser, nothing super fancy, but still very nice. You took special notice to the rider, recognizing the mystery man from the pasta aisle, but this time he had a helmet on. Suddenly the sound from the bike was cut off as you approached your car and unlocked it. You had opened the door and sat in the driver’s seat when the guy finally spoke up.

“Uh, hey, I’m sorry about this, but I just thought you were really cute and uh… Sorry… I uh… Was just wondering if maybe I could get your number?”

The bulky helmet covered most of his face, but you could tell underneath that he was blushing. His shyness almost caught you off guard seeing as he didn’t seem so shy inside the store. It was endearing in a way.

“My number?” You couldn’t wipe the stupid grin off your face even if you tried. He was incredibly cute.

“Yeah… If that would be alright?” The crinkles by his eyes gave away his hidden smile under the helmet. While the helmet covered most of his face you could still see the bridge of his nose, and the freckles that lived there.

“I’ll make you a deal…” You leaned towards him more with your left foot planted on the ground outside of the car. His right eyebrow cocked upwards waiting for your next move.

“And what might that be?”

“I’ll give you my number if you take me for a ride on your bike.”

“Deal.”

There was no hesitation in his reply and the confidence in himself made him more attractive.

“Really? Just like that?” You were amused that he had even agreed and especially more so that he did it almost without a second thought.

“It’s not everyday a pretty girl wants to ride on the bike and will give me her number. But I don’t have another helmet on me right now and there’s absolutely no way I’ll take you out on this without the proper gear.”

“I can wait.” The words left your mouth before you had even realized what you said. You didn’t know this man and you were going to get on a motorcycle with him? What the hell was wrong with you?

“You don’t have anywhere else you need to be? Nothing frozen in there?” He gestured to the back of your car where you had just finished loading in all your groceries.

“Nope, I am completely free and nothing frozen in the back.”

He said nothing for a moment and just continued to stare at you in awe. He shook his head with a chuckle before he spoke again.

“Alright, give me twenty minutes and I’ll be back here… You’re seriously gonna wait?”

“I’m seriously gonna wait.”

With that he started the bike up again and released the kick stand. Before he backed up, he shot you another smile with a look of almost disbelief that this was happening. Once he took off you shut the door to your car and turned the engine on to get comfortable. You made sure to text basically everyone you knew about your plans for the night in case he was actually an axe murderer.

You scrolled through various forms of social media while you waited for the mystery man to return. When you heard the loud rumbling of the bike around the corner you checked the time. Almost twenty minutes on the dot. He was good.

You waited until he killed the engine to the bike to turn your car off and step outside. He took his helmet off and stepped off the bike. His delicate curls didn’t suffer any damage or deformity during their time inside his helmet, looking absolutely perfect. The same crooked smile you saw in the store had returned and it made your heart skip.

“I can’t believe you waited.” He tucked his helmet underneath his arm while he held another one in his hand. It was red and slightly smaller than his black helmet.

“I can’t believe you came back.” You closed the car door behind you and clicked the lock button twice to set the alarm.

“Of course I came back. I’m not sure if this helmet will fit exactly, but it’s better than nothing.” He held the helmet out for you to take. You did as he silently asked and took the helmet from him. It was heavier than you expected, but at least you knew your skull would be safe in it.

“Ya know, before I put this on maybe you should tell me your name?”

A smile cracked across his face making his eyes sparkle.

“It’s Daniel, but you can call me Danny.” He held his hand out and waited for you to shake it.

“Danny… Nice to officially meet you, I’m y/n.” Your left hand dropped to your side with the helmet as you grabbed his hand. Danny didn’t squeeze your hand hard, but his grip was firm. You met the pressure of his hand, squeezing back slightly.

“Likewise.” His smile was contagious, and it never left his face. Every time he looked at you, you couldn’t help the grin that danced on your lips.

“Have you ever been on a motorcycle of any kind?”

“No, I’ve been snowmobiling, jet skiing and on ATVs, but never on a bike.”

He nodded his head in understanding and seemed to think about what he was going to say next.

“Hmmm… Right. So there are a few rules we need to go over before you put the helmet on.” You followed his previous action and nodded in response.

“You have to hold on to me at all times, so don’t get all shy on me. When we turn, let your body follow the natural pull, don’t fight it or that’ll end up badly. If you’re nervous or uncomfortable at any time, let me know. We’ll be able to hear each other through the bluetooth in the helmets, but sometimes it cuts in and out, so tap my chest three times, okay?” You continued to nod as he went on explaining the important things you’d need to know.

“When we stop, try your best to not lean forward on me and brace yourself as we slow. Try not to move too much on the back as well. Lastly, relax and have fun. I won’t go any faster than what you’re comfortable with. Sound good?”

“Yeah, I think I’ve got it. Hold on tight, don’t lean too much to one side, communicate by tapping your chest three times or talking, brace for stops and don’t lean on your back, and don’t move around.” You ran back through everything he had just said, pretty sure you got it all down. It was a little nerve wracking to think about the fact you were trusting a stranger with your life. And that he was trusting you not to screw up.

“Sounds like you’ve got it. Ready to put that helmet on?” You held the helmet up wordlessly between the two of you.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Alright go ahead and slip it on, and I’ll help you tighten and buckle it before I put mine on.”

The helmet he provided you fit perfectly, it was snug without being too tight, and it didn’t wiggle around your face. You could hear his muffled voice asking how it fit through all the padding. You gave the helmet a tap on the outside and a thumbs up. His fingers got to work on the straps underneath your chin, constantly asking how they felt. Once they felt good, Danny slipped his own helmet on and set up the bluetooth.

You hear the bluetooth dial up tone before you hear his voice.

“Can you hear me?”

“Loud and clear.” You saluted him jokingly, earning a chuckle that rang throughout your ears.

“Alright, I’m gonna hand you some gloves, go ahead and put those on while I hop on the bike.”

“Sir, yes sir.” He chuckled again, this time shaking his head.

“Easy now, I don’t know you that well… yet.” Danny winked at you as he handed you the gloves. Instant heat flushed to your cheeks and you were thankful that most of your face was covered. Damn him.

Once he was settled on the bike and you had the gloves on, he spoke again.

“Alright I’m gonna hold my hand out and I want you to use me to help you step on.”

“Got it.”

You walked around to the back of the bike and grabbed his hand around the top of his left shoulder. He kept you steady as you swung your leg over the seat and sat on the back of the bike.

“You’re gonna have to get a little bit closer than that.”

You scooted forward on the seat and tried to get more comfortable. However, you still must not have been close enough because just as you got comfortable, Danny’s large hands wrapped around the backs of your knees and pulled you closer until you were flush against him. You tried to ignore the proximity and where his hands just were, trying to focus on preparing yourself for the actual ride.

“Sorry…” You felt like you had let him down a little by not meeting his standards.

“No worries, this is your first time. Sometimes you just need someone to show you. Go ahead and grab on. Don’t be afraid you’ll hurt me, okay? Hold on tight.”

“Yeah, okay.” While being this close to a complete stranger was unusual, you felt safe with Danny. You snaked your arms around his midsection and held your arms with the other hand, locking them on.

A moment later the bike’s engine revved to life and you felt the vibrations roll through your body. It had just become very real to you. You were about to go on a ride with a man you literally met maybe forty minutes ago. You were in far too deep to turn back now though.

“Ready? We’ll start out nice and easy.” Danny’s head turned slightly over his left shoulder to peek at you. Instead, his helmet knocked against yours softly due to the minimal distance between you. He muttered a quick ‘sorry’ accompanied with a chuckle. You couldn’t help but let a small giggle out.

“Yeah, uh… Just promise you’re not some kind of murderer who’s gonna kill me and dispose of my body in the woods…”

“I promise I’m not a murderer. Just a guy who desperately wants a cute girl’s number. You’re gonna have to trust me during the ride, okay?”

“Yeah, okay. I’m good. I’m ready.” You were basically trying to hype yourself up. Trying to prepare for whatever was about to happen. Definitely too late to turn back now.

“Alright then, let’s go.” Danny released the kickstand and began to walk the bike backwards out of the spot. Your arms tightened around his waist out of instinct as Danny took off out of the parking lot slowly. You remembered what he told you to do during turns and let your body stay neutral, following the motion of the bike while he took a right out of the parking lot.

“You doing okay back there?”

“Yeah, I’m doing alright. If you want, we could probably kick it up a notch if we’re below the speed limit. I’m feeling good.”

You meant it too. Riding on the back was fairly easy and you adjusted to it quickly. Letting your body move in tandem with Danny’s and the bike felt natural and you were loving it.

“Whatever you say, doll.” He laughed with amusement and gave the right handle bar a twist, accelerating. You didn’t go much faster, but you appreciated it. Danny seemed to be cautious about keeping the ride safe.

Buildings and houses and schools blurred in your vision, zooming past. Everything went by at warped speed which made your ability to focus nearly impossible. You did your best to keep yourself upright, but still pressed against him to not leave too much room. Constantly, you fought the urge to rest the cheek of your helmet against his shoulder, but decided that may not be the best option. You didn’t want to be too close to him so that you wouldn’t be able to brace yourself for stops or pull away when you stopped at red lights or stop signs.

Eventually, Danny pulled out onto a quieter road surrounded by trees. There were little to no cars and no people walking around. He kept the speed steady for a moment before speaking.

“Ready to experience some real speed?”

You were definitely ready. You had trusted Danny this far and didn’t think he was reckless enough to endanger you both. Less traffic also made you feel more safe. You tightened your arms around his waist tighter, gripping your forearms with more strength.

“Yeah, I’m ready. Let’s do it.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” Just from the sound of his voice you could tell he was wearing his heart stopping crooked smile.

The build up of speed was gradual, but quick. One moment you were comfortable and the next you felt like you could fly off the back of the bike any second. But you were enjoying every bit of it. You hadn’t even realized that your small screams of enjoyment were now coming out as laughter. No matter how hard you tried to stop you just couldn’t stop laughing.

Your laughter finally died down with the speed of the bike as Danny started to decelerate. He pulled over on the side of the road, kicked the stand out, and killed the engine. You stayed on the back of the bike while he fumbled with the chin straps on the helmet and then slipped it off his head.

“Here.” He held his hand out like he did to help you get on the bike. You placed your left hand in his right using the leverage to pull your body up and swing your leg over the seat. Moving slowly, you were careful to not send your knee flying into his spine.

Danny didn’t let go of your hand after you stepped off the bike, and instead intertwined his fingers with yours to pull you in front of him. Both of his hands find the straps under your chin and his fingers release them swiftly allowing you to pull the helmet off.

“Not bad for a rookie.” He smiled up at you from his seated position on the bike. His discarded helmet sat between his legs, his large hands resting on top of it.

“I’ve been told I’m a pretty fast learner.” You shrugged nonchalantly, a smirk creeping its way onto your lips. Danny only smiled wider.

“Is that so?”

His eyebrow cocked as he spoke and his hand stretched out the short distance towards your hip, looping his index and middle fingers through the belt loop on your jeans. He tugged you towards him with minimal force, and you allowed your body to follow until his knee rested against your hip. You nodded your head slowly in response, teeth gnawing lightly on your bottom lip.

It was at this moment that you realized just how close you were to one another. You were so close to Danny that you could make out all the freckles that splayed across the bridge of his nose. So close that you could tell that his eyes weren’t just brown. They were hazel. Brown and green hazel. They were beautiful, and warm, and inviting, and they held you there, unable to look away.

His hand gripped your hip, the tips of his fingers digging into your waist, somehow bringing you closer to him. You rested your hand on his shoulder, a nervous knot of excitement twisting in the pit of your stomach. With bated breath you watched Danny’s eyes shift between your own before flicking down to your lips and back up to your eyes.

His eyes bore into yours with a silent question, your answer coming out in the form of a nod. The hand on your hip disappeared and came to rest on your neck, his fingers reaching the nape. He pulled you to him, pausing just before his lips brushed yours, his eyes flitting once more between your eyes and lips. He met your gaze again, his lips curled up in that soft crooked smile that made your knees weak.

When his lips finally touched yours it was with light pressure. Like he was afraid he’d hurt you. Soft and warm, his lips fit against yours in a way you couldn’t describe. As if they were made for each other. Your skin tingled with goosebumps and felt like it had been set on fire. Just when you began to melt against Danny’s lips they were gone. Your eyes open half-lidded, coated with content and need, to see Danny staring back at you mirroring your expression.

“It’s, uh, starting to get dark out. We should head back.” You were still so close to each other that his warm breath cascaded over your skin. He was smiling at you when he spoke, his hand still holding the back of your neck.

“Yeah, okay.” Your voice cracked in a whisper and you smiled softly back at him.

Danny helped you put your helmet back on, tightening the straps and making sure the bluetooth was working before starting the bike. He held his hand out just as he had earlier and you grabbed on, hoisting yourself onto the back of the seat. While you got comfortable, Danny put his helmet on.

“Ready to head back?”

You snaked your hands around his waist and squeezed lightly before responding.

“Yeah, I’m all set.”

“Alright then.”

——————————

The ride back to your car was fairly quiet. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. In fact it was completely comfortable, just enjoying the moment you were sharing and watching the night fly by. Soon enough you and Danny were pulling into the spot next to your car. The parking lot was mostly empty, the grocery store having closed nearly an hour ago.

“Here we are.” Danny killed the engine to the bike and helped you step off the back.

“Here,” You held out the helmet he had brought you, “Thank you for taking me out on the bike. I, uh, had a lot of fun.” He hung his own on the handlebar as he stepped off.

“I had fun too, I’m glad you asked for a ride.” He didn’t take the helmet from your hand and instead pushed it back towards you gently. The confusion written on your features was met with a soft smile.

“Keep it. I have a feeling this won’t be the last time I take you for a ride.”

You smiled back at him and tucked it underneath your arm.

“Oh is that so?” You gave him a sly, playful smile and laughed.

“I hope so.” He laughed with you, and stepped closer, his hand cupping your cheek. You leaned into his touch with your hand laying over his.

“I think that can be arranged.”

“Good, because I’d like to be able to do this a lot more often.”

Danny’s lips met yours for the second time that night, and still you felt the imaginary fireworks. Still you felt the tingle it brought to your entire body. Still you felt that same fire from before. It was almost as if you had never felt truly alive until today. And just like before, the kiss was brief. When you opened your eyes, Danny’s were staring back at you softly. That beautiful crooked grin adorned his face making your heart clench.

“I think I could get used to that.”

Another hour had easily passed. You were both talking, and enjoying each other’s company and swapping life stories. The night was beginning to turn chilly, your body shivering lightly. Danny being the gentleman that he is, handed you his jacket, which you gracefully accepted even though it was far too large for you.

Eventually the night drew to a close despite you wishing it would never end. You could’ve stayed with Danny the entire night, just talking about your lives. You loved learning all the little things about him like the things he loved, and the things he hated, his passion for music and his family. Being around him was like a constant nicotine high leaving your entire body tingling, and your mind fuzzy.

“Hand me your phone.” You held your palm out to him. He had opened your door for you and you were sitting in the driver’s seat looking up at him.

He just gave you a questioning look, but took his phone out of his pocket and handed it to you, unlocking it first. You opened the phone icon and began typing your numbers in on the keypad. You saved your number in his phone and gave it back to him with your contact popped up on the screen.

“I intended to keep my end of the bargain.”

“How do I know this is your real number? That you didn’t just put in a fake one and use me for my clearly awesome bike?” His tone was playful, clearly making a joke.

“Well you could text me now, make sure it’s right.” A light, breathy laugh sounded from his lips. He did as you suggested and typed out a quick message. To neither of your surprise, your phone vibrated in your pocket. You showed him the notification and saved his number in your phone.

“I told you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Danny rolled his eyes, an amused smile on his face. He stepped closer to you and leaned down, kissing you a final time for the night. This kiss was a little different than the other two. There was the tiniest hint of passion and hunger behind the barely there force that came with his lips this time. Not letting either of you explore those feelings, Danny pulled away and grabbed your hand.

“I really need to get going, it’s getting late. Let me know when you make it home safely?”

“Yeah, I will.”

Danny placed a kiss to the back of your hand, and stepped back. He wished you goodnight, his voice coming out soft, and hushed. You said goodnight as well, shut your door and started your car. He waited for you to back out and leave the area you were parked in before he exited the parking lot too. The whole way home you couldn’t stop replaying the day’s events in your mind. It almost felt like a dream. A fairytale even. What are the odds right?

When you had made it home safely you remembered to text Danny.

I got home safe. Thank you again for a great day, it was perfect.

You went about your regular nighttime routine, washing your face, changing clothes, feeding your fish, etc… You also had brought in all of the groceries you had bought hours ago, and put them away. It wasn’t until you were changing that you realized you still had Danny’s jacket on. You slid into bed and picked up your phone to text him about it. He had already texted you back which made you smile.

I had a great time too. I’m glad today was perfect because that was just a scratch on the surface.

His text seemed promising of another… whatever today was. You weren’t sure if you would call today a first date, or a date at all considering you barely knew the guy, but you knew for sure you wanted to see him again.

Sounds like you plan on seeing me again?

You hit send before typing out another message and hitting send on that one.

Oh by the way, I still have your jacket!

When his next text came through, you were sure you were blushing bright red, and smiling at your phone like a lunatic. Or some kind of love-sick teenager.

I know, I didn’t ask for it back on purpose. I figured you could give it back to me on our second date ;)

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taglist: @malany-gvf @dannyandthekiszkas @gretasimp @popejosh4ever @brujamagick @demolitionndann @hellowgoodbye @lipstickitty @ageofhearingloss @sunandthemoontwinflames @indigofallingsky @gold-mines-melting

add yourself to my taglist! :)

#gvf #danny gvf #danny wagner #daniel wagner #danny wagner x reader #daniel wagner x reader #greta van fleet #danny wagner fluff #danny wagner x y/n #daniel wager x y/n #danny wagner smut #daniel wagner smut #biker danny wagner #jake gvf #josh gvf #sam gvf #jake kiszka #daniel wagner fluff

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Hey! i just read "The soon-to-be father" and i wanted to say that it was one of the best things i have ever read, you are very talented♥️♥️♥️♥️ having said that i would like to know if there could be a sequel with reader's parents coming up at court and how is Daemon's relationship with his in-laws and with the birth going on and him not leaving her side for nothing (always encouraging her), With a lot of fluffy, a little angst (at the time of birth) but happy ending, please?

A sequel you shall have.

A princess is born

Paring : Daemon x Fem. Reader (from the Summer Isles.)

Themes : Angst | Happy Ending

Warnings : Mentions of maternal death | Complications during childbirth

Word count: 2.8k words

I drew inspiration from the birth scene in Daniel Steel's "Silent Honour" for this story.

Autumn was determined to stay.

The weeks dragged on, cold and dreary, each day seamlessly melting into the next.

Those within the Red Keep finally had something besides the weather and the King’s sons to talk about. They were having visitors, all the way from the Summer Isles.

Viserys was seated on the Iron Throne when Prince Sandoq Xho and Princess Ayana Qo were escorted in by Prince Daemon. "Your grace," he addressed his brother. "This is the Prince Sandoq Xho of the Red Flower Vale," Daemon first gestured to Prince Sandoq, "and this is his wife," He turned to the princess next. "The Princess Ayana Qo."

"Welcome," said Viserys, as cheerfully as he could muster. His condition had worsened, and some days, he struggled to make up the steps of the throne."And I must offer an apology, your highnesses, for not being able to attend the wedding of my brother to your daughter, the Princess y/n. I hear it was a most splendid affair."

In truth, Viserys could not make it as it would have been humiliating for a Targaryen king to arrive on anything other than a dragon's back. For years after Balerion’s death, he tried to bond with another dragon, but all his attempts ended in utter failure. His condition worsening had also made long journeys excruciatingly painful. Daemon came up with the excuse of conflict at the Stepstones in order to soothe ruffled feathers.

Prince Sandoq was not one to hold onto grudges, and he sensed that the king was not as well as he appeared to be. Viserys did not put on a convincing show of hiding his physical discomfort, and the cloudy right eye gave Sandoq pause. "Water under the bridge, as your people fondly say," the prince’s voice was rich and deep, like all those who lived on the Summer Isles. "And it was indeed a most splendid affair."

"Your brother got into a drunken boat race with my cousin," chortled Ayana. "Speaking of which, good-son, Quhuru insists on a rematch."

Daemon grinned. "Tell him to bring the boats. I’ll be more than happy to supply the wine."

"I'll make sure to start a wager," Sandoq said as he turned to face his captains. "Tell the others if they want to join."

Viserys, visibly relieved that his kin-by-marriage had not been insulted by his absence, broke out into a smile. "If there is to be a wager, then I insist on putting my own name into the pot. But for the time being," he clapped his hands, and servants carrying trays of salt and bread came forth. "We must engage in a traditional welcome."

Daemon had already told his good-parents about the bread and salt, how it was meant to ensure their safety during their stay.

"And have people honoured it?" Sandoq inquired as he showed them around the Red Keep.

"For the most part, yes." Daemon said as they exited the grand library. "Although, it is no guarantee."

"I suppose," said Ayana, as they stopped to admire the frescoes decorating the walls. She nudged her husband and smirked. "Left by your Targaryen forebearers, no doubt?"

"Indeed," Daemon stopped to consider the paintings. He had never paid them much mind before, the explicit details of couples and groups engaged in various acts of sexual intimacies "Although the Septons consider them lewd and vulgar."

"Mutually shared pleasures are lewd and vulgar?" Ayana pointed out another fresco to her husband, thinking their priests and priestesses might like to incorporate such paintings in temples dedicated to love. "How so?"

Daemon merely shrugged.  "Because they are hypocrites of the worst sort. They preach piety and fidelity and all the rest while committing every known sin under the cover of darkness." He started walking again, hoping to show them the sparring yard. He thought Sandoq might like to see the weapons they used. "And I think some of them never really had a good time in their lives, so they look down their noses on those of us who do."

Both Sandoq and Ayana snorted with laughter.

⍣ ⍣ ⍣

Both Sandoq and Ayana were pleased to find you in good health.

"How long before the baby comes into the world?" Your mother fluffed up your pillows as maids scurried about, preparing the bedroom for the birth.

"Another month," A good kick against your insides had you wincing. "But things feel different now. Daemon insists on moving me to your ship."

"He must have a good reason, to do such a thing."

"He’s worried, Ama." You groaned when there was another kick. The baby was very active this morning and seemed determined to not give you any peace. "He doesn’t trust his brother’s sons."

"We have all heard the stories. Especially about the oldest." said Sandoq, as he peered over a balcony. He and Daemon were looking out into the sparring yard, where Prince Aemond was dueling with Ser Criston. Both parried and slashed, and Aemond had to leap away whenever Criston brought down his morningstar. Aemond finally managed to knock the weapon out of the knight’s hand before gaining an edge and earning himself a victory.

Aemond was skilled, thought Sandoq, taller than most boys his age and three times as fierce, but there was something in his bearing that unnerved him. The prince’s jaw was always clenched, and his shoulders tensed up at the back. There was voilence there, voilence that could bubble up without a moment's warning. "Nasty things," Sandoq added, his alarm growing when Aegon and Aemond turned on each other, trying to beat each other to bloody pulps. "if you ask me."

Daemon sighed when Ser Criston had to force the brothers apart. "That’s why I want y/n on that ship as soon as possible," he said, as he led the way back inside. "Those boys will not take kindly to a prince that might supplant them in the line of succession."

Sandoq was stunned. "Can your brother do that? Simply disinherit his sons?"

"Viserys is the king. He can do it if his council believes it to be necessary. He was even told to do it for me and--"

"Well, you did try to seduce the Hand’s daughter," Sandoq interjected. "And the lady, I believe, is now married to the king?"

Daemon snickered, shook his head. "It was actually she who threw herself at me. Tried to kiss me one night during a feast. Her father turned up just as I was about to push her away. He looked at me, then at her, got this scheming look in his eye, and twisted everything to suit his own ends."

Viserys actually treated Otto’s words with large grains of salt, but to keep the peace, he asked Daemon if he would like to leave for Essos for a while, till things calmed down. Daemon agreed, not wanting to do anything that would make Viserys a target for Otto’s ire. He was now grateful for Otto’s scheming, as he would not have met you while touring the Summer Isles.

Sandoq’s bright feathered cape rustled with every movement he made. "The queen’s father is Otto Hightower, yes?"

"You have met him?"

Sandoq had indeed met him and remembered their interactions with distaste. "Years ago, in Braavos. A leech, if I ever saw one."

"An apt description, if you ask me." Daemon beamed when they walked into the bedroom. "And how are you two ladies doing."

"Talking about your nephews." You had been fanning yourself. Despite the cold, you felt uncomfortably warm. Hot flushes, the midwife said, nothing to fret about.

"Which is why we came with four spearmaidens," said Ayana. "They can accompany you where men cannot go."

"Thank you, Ama." There was another kick, making you wince and draw breath. Your back had been hurting all through the morning, and just now, a sharp pain shot up your back, making it feel like your body was on fire. "And how was the voyage here?"

"Long. Tiring. To be honest, I kept below decks for most of it." Ayana studied you, thinking she detected something familiar in the way you caught your breath, how you let out a soft exhale as some unseen pain passed.  There was still a month to go, so she decided it was best not to worry. "But I did get to see a dragon fly over our ship as we neared Blackwater Bay."

"A grey-white one, like the morning mist." Supplied Sandoq. "We were told it was a wild dragon."

"Grey Ghost, I'd wager." Daemon gave the name for one of several wild dragons that lived on the far side of Dragonstone. "He’s not as bad as the others. He hunts fish."

"And no one has claimed him?" Sandoq turned to you, his eyes gleaming. "Daughter, perhaps for the baby, I think—"

"Aba, I will tell you the same thing I told my husband." You ignored the pain and cut your father off before he got any ideas. "No wild dragons. No," you say as you raise your hand and wag your finger at him. "I will not entertain talk of your grandchild going anywhere near a wild dragon."

Sandoq muttered under his breath, "Spoil-sport." He grinned, spread his hands. "But can you imagine the prestige? Your child flying atop a wild dragon?"

"I told her the same thing," huffed Daemon. "And she still refused."

"Maybe the two of you could try and bond with one of the wild dragons then," Ayana quipped.

You snickered. "Aba going anywhere near a wild dragon? Oh, this I would love to see."

Sandoq sputtered in mock indignation and clapped a hand to his chest. "You doubt me? The prince Sandoq Xho? Daughter, I-" His words died on his tongue when you clutched at your stomach, your mouth half-open in a silent cry, your face going white as a sheet.

"Sweetheart?" Daemon came over, panicked. "Sweetheart, what’s wrong?"

You let out a sigh of relief and fell back onto soft pillows when the pain left as quickly as it came. "It’s the baby. I think it’s time."

⍣ ⍣ ⍣

There was no time to move you to your parents’ ship.

There was no time to even get the healers that came with your parents.

Everything just happened in a rush, as if the baby was determined to make their entry into this world. Sandoq still rode to the harbour, to fetch the healers, in case your labours dragged through the night and more help was needed.

Until then, however, Daemon had to yield to the aid of the Maesters and the midwives, and insisted on being present in the room.

"Your presence is not necessary your grace," said Grand Maester Mellos. "And it is all rather odd. Fathers are not wanted or even needed in the birthing room."

Daemon stared the man in the eye while the rest rushed about to get you ready. "I am not leaving my wife here, you are not sending me anywhere."

"B-but m-my prince," huffed Mellos, his sense of propriety thoroughly offended. In all his years he had never witnessed such a thing: wives leaning on a Maester and their midwives, the husbands eager to quit the room as soon as opportunity presented itself. "This is most unheard of."

"Really?" Daemon just smiled sweetly and reached for Dark Sister. The air seemed to vibrate and hiss when he unsheathed his sword. "And what do you propose to do about it, hmm?"

Mellos, having borne witness to the prince killing Lord Vaemond in the throne room years ago, blanched in fear. Anyone with wit knew better than to test the Rogue Knight, and Mellos prided himself on being a man of wit. He swallowed, and finally nodded in acquiescence. "B-but th-there can be exceptions, my p-prince." He gulped and eyed the sword in Daemon’s hands, the one that could cut through flesh like a hot knife through butter. "You may stay."

"Of course I may," Daemon hissed before making his way to the bed.

Your mother held a cold washcloth over your forehead, helping you breathe and letting you squeeze down on her hand as a new contraction ripped through you. Daemon took over, taking your hand into his. "I th-think I h-hate y-you," you grumbled after your next contraction.

Daemon simply grinned. "Of course you do, my love," he teased. "I did this to you, remember?"

Your giggle died at the next contraction, this one so sharp and painful it made you scream in agony. What rolled off your lips next was a litany of oaths that would put the most ill-bred of sailors to shame. Colourful and very inventive, and scandalizing Mellos’ sense of propriety even more. The women were unconcerned, having heard and said far worse things during their own labours. Daemon kept grinning, not complaining when your hand squeezed hard against his on every contraction. He kept encouraging you, cracking jests at his own expense, trying to distract you from the pain.

The chief midwife examined you after the next contraction. "I see the head!" she cried. "Keep pushing, princess, they’ll be out soon enough."

Alas, that was not the case.

An hour passed.

The another. And another.

With each passing hour, you grew weaker. And the baby hadn’t moved, stuck where they were, unable to move forward.

Daemon was growing more fearful by the second. He knew what happened to his good sister. His niece told him everything, holding nothing back. Gutted like a fish, Rhaenyra had spat, and no one thought to even ask if my mother was willing to make that sacrifice. Daemon shook his head as he held another cold compress to your head while you tried to rest. He was not going to entertain the notion at all.

A door opened, then closed. Daemon could see more maesters coming in, conferring with Mellos, the chief midwife. A leather pouch was produced, and a thin blade made of Valyrian steel was pulled out. "Is there another way?" Desperate, he turned to your mother. "Is there a way to save them both without resorting to that?"

Ayana saw the blade glinting wickedly in the dying light and winced. She remembered attending her sister’s birth and what was done when the baby refused to move.  "There is, but we have to act fast. Sarell," she summoned a young midwife with hands gentle enough for the task at hand. "Place your hands here, and when y/n pushes, I want you to push down as much as you can. It might make the baby move."

Sarell gulped but placed her hands over your ribcage, just above the baby. Daemon helped you up, made you focus on him. "Wh-what is sh-she doing?"

"We’re trying to force the baby out." Ayana moved to between your legs, to see if there’d be any change. She shot a look at the chief midwife, and the woman took the hint, tried to keep the Maesters distracted.

"Can you do this?" asked Daemon.

Daemon told you the story of his brother’s wife—what happened and how everything went wrong. Fear whipped through you like angry coils, but you couldn’t give up now. Your life and your child’s life depended on it. You dug deep, found a reserve of strength you never knew you had, and fought against the terror that threatened to devour you. One more try. You had to try one more time. "I c-can."

On the next contraction, Sarell pushed down when you did, and the pain was nothing like you had experienced before. You screamed and screamed, as wave after wave of pain hurtled over you. There was another contraction, another push. You could have sworn you crushed Daemon’s hand to dust, but you heard nary a word of complaint from him. He kept encouraging you, giving you the strength to go on, even when it felt like your ribs were being crushed under Sarell’s hands.

You kept trying. And trying.

And you kept weakening, like your life-force was draining from you. You still kept fighting, unwilling to give up.

The Maesters pushed past the other midwives, ready to intervene, and then –

"The baby’s moving!" Your mother nearly sobbed. "A few more pushes, daughter, and they’re out!"

You felt something moving and shifting, going faster and faster, and then an indignant howl pierced the air. There was another order to push, this time to bring out the afterbirth. You were beyond exhausted, but a wave of new energy claimed you when you heard your baby crying.

"A girl," Ayana wrapped the infant in cloth and handed her to Daemon to hold because you were so exhausted from your ordeal. "A new Targaryen princess, good-son."

Daemon was overawed for the first time in his life as he held his child. He felt tears for the first time in his life.

"A daughter," he rocked the baby and brought her to you, holding your arms over his as they’d been trembling from exhaustion. "We have a daughter," he cooed. "And I’m so proud of you, my love."

Seeing your child in your arms made the pain of the previous several hours fade away, if only for a moment. "And she has your eyes," you beamed weakly. "True Targaryen purple, like amethysts."

"Have you decided on a name?" Ayana asked after cleaning her hands.

You looked at Daemon and smiled. "Baela. Baela Targaryen."

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[rebelliousenjolras]

night and day. (pt. II) (jack thompson x reader)

pairing: Jack Thompson x Reader summary: After years of working in solitude, the reader is sent an urgent message from her cousin, Daniel Sousa, begging her to come to New York to work on a case. Once there, she learns that she will have to play pretend wife to none other than Jack Thompson, the arrogant Chief of the New York S.S.R. Although they are at first night and day in differences, a series of events neither could foresee radically alters the course of their lives forever. word count: 1601 trigger warnings: Minor violence a/n: here it is, part two! i hope you enjoy. feel free to drop me a message/ask with your thoughts. x

II: A NIGHTMARE OR A FAVOR

5 MONTHS EARLIER

Crack.

And with that, you broke your third bone of the evening. You winced at the sharp pain in your arm, counting to six and a half silently in your head, and tried to resist the urge to pass out, like every nerve ending in your body was screaming at you to do. You pushed yourself up into a sitting position, every movement agonizing. You tried your best not to jostle your two broken ribs in the process, but it was useless. Every intake of breath, every twitch, sent a shooting pain to your very core. That would be a rather unpleasant healing process, you knew, but now was not the time to think of such things. You’d be lucky if you made it as far as a hospital room.

Standing across from you was the cause of your bodily destruction. This force came in the shape of a man, just over six feet tall and wielding technology far too sophisticated and deadly for his blackened soul. He went by Harvard W. Tivvs, though you were positive that name was an alias, adding impersonation to the long list of sins he’d committed across his lifetime.

Tivvs aimed the device--your brain was too muddled to remember its title--at you once more, this time directly at your leg. There was no time to react. You let out a guttural scream, much to your dismay, as you felt the bone in your thigh slowly snap in half. Your entire body was hot, too hot, and your head was on fire. Perhaps you were burning away into nothingness; it wouldn’t be the first time one of Stark’s inventions had an unforeseen complication… But no, there were no flames to be seen, no smoke smoldering from your skin. You were simply being broken, from the inside out.

“Had enough, darling?” Tivvs snarled, twirling the piece of machinery nonchalantly between his fingers, a sharp contrast to the hatred in his tone.

You let out a sound somewhere between a hiss and a growl and spat in Tivvs’ direction. Although it didn’t do much good in the way of defense, you knew the action would offend his sensibilities. A woman, daring to mock him. In the time that it took for Tivvs to recharge the weapon you’d dragged yourself another few inches across the floor, every centimeter sending a fresh wave of pain through your body.

You scrabbled wildly at the floor in front of you, hardly able to see through the darkness tugging at the edges of your vision. Finally, your fingers made purchase on a smooth metallic object, and you managed to turn yourself around just far enough to see Tivvs approaching. You would have rather been standing, in order to even the plane between you and Tivvs, but a crouched position would have to do. You aimed your semi-automatic at him, unable to see the bullet collide with his brain before you succumbed to the darkness that had been threatening you. Your head hit the ground, and all you could see were the crossbeams on the ceiling of the warehouse.

You weren’t scared, though, that you’d failed to send Tivvs straight where he belonged. After all, you were (Y/N), one of Chicago’s finest S.S.R. agents, and you never missed. You only hoped one of your fellow agents would find you before the darkness claimed you for good. You had contemplated death many times, but you’d always hoped it would be with a spray of bullets and an explosion or two. Dying inside a musty old warehouse just wouldn’t do.

And so, you held on, more out of sheer spite than any real desire to live.

The ringing of your alarm woke you immediately. You sat up with a quiet gasp, arm wrapped around your midsection as you wheezed, trying desperately to work out where the danger was. It took several moments for your breathing to slow enough so that you could realize that you hadn’t, in fact, been tortured by Harvard Tivvs, that no-good thief, while you slept. That incident had taken place three months ago, a bridge and two towns over. Your heartbeat slowed as you absentmindedly reached beneath the blankets, just to confirm that your leg was indeed still intact.

Satisfied that it was, and that you were sporting no other unexpected injuries--there was still a healing bullet wound on your left arm, but that had been accounted for the night previously--you laid back down in bed. You were covered in a sheen of sweat, and your head was already throbbing, and yet you hadn’t even truly begun the day yet. If this was to set the tone for your morning, you’d rather have just stayed in bed. However, the idea of going back to sleep made you shudder.

If the days were long, the nights were longer still.

Regardless of your feelings on the matter, or perhaps once again in spite of them--these days, most of your actions seemed to occur out of sheer contempt for life--you swung your legs out of the bed and pulled on your robe. Your eyes drifted to the letter on your bedside table, the only object littering the wooden surface, and sighed. Your name was printed neatly on the front in a handwriting that you knew well. You had the note practically memorized, at this point, given the number of times you’d read it. The edges were torn and dusted in fingerprints from where you’d worried them as you pondered the contents time and time again.

Fancying another read, as if it would somehow change your mind, you plucked it off the nightstand, unfolding the worn paper to reveal the words that had caused you so much grief over the past three days.

Dear (Y/N),

I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m writing to you instead of calling. And to be honest, oh-so-lovely cousin of mine, I was sure you’d laugh and hang up, or perhaps curse me out, if I tried to explain myself over the phone. So, I’m wagering that your curiosity will win out over your obstinacy as it usually does, and you’ll at least give me the time of day before shredding this into little pieces.

What I’m trying to say, (Y/N), is that we need you. I need you. This isn’t one of those “Gee, we could really use your help” sort of situations. We need you like we need air to breathe. This case… I can’t explain it here. We’re being watched, we feel certain.

I’ll put you on the next flight out to New York, set you up in a nice hotel, room service and everything, if it’ll get you to come. Please at least consider it, (Y/N). A whole lot of lives are depending on us.

Call me as soon as you can. I’m anxious to hear from you, regardless of what your answer is. It’s been far too long… I miss you.

All my love,

Daniel

P.S. I’m sure you’re also wondering why I’m writing to you from New York instead of LA. I’ll explain that all as well. Just give me a call. -D

You brushed your fingers over the signature, smiling at the way that Daniel still slanted his D’s, even after years of his mother forcing him to practice calligraphy as a child. Your smile faded, however, as your eyes drifted to the luggage in the corner of your cramped studio apartment. Although you’d refused to let Daniel stick you on the next flight out--you did have some affairs to get in order before you went gallivanting off to New York--he’d pushed for you to come as quickly as possible. You’d only been able to procure three days during your haggling with him.

Although Daniel had promised to tell you what was going on when you spoke on the telephone, he’d still been incredibly vague, insinuating that there was a possibility his wires had been tapped. He’d informed you that he and Peggy Carter--a legend among women soldiers, you were anxious to meet her--had begun working on a high-profile case, and it had taken them back to their old stomping grounds in New York City. They needed someone with your particular skill set, he’d said. Daniel never begged, but this time, there had been a distinct pleaing edge to his voice.

So, of course you’d said yes, how could you not? You had a cousin in Daniel, and it was that kinship alone that kept you from hurtling right off the edge of the earth. With no soul left alive to claim you as son or daughter, and no siblings to boot, you and Daniel were all that the other had. And as long as oxygen filled your lungs, you’d be damned if you failed Daniel Sousa.

You’d stalled long enough. You began dressing in front of the mirror, unpinning your curls and fiddling with them until they framed your face. As you were slipping on your blouse, you caught sight of the scar on your arm and scowled. Yes, you’d recovered from Tivvs’ attack, but he’d left his mark. The bone-breaking device that Howard Stark had created--The Pulverizer, he’d fondly dubbed it--occasionally had its side effects. And so, you were left with a red ring around your arm, exactly where the bone had snapped. Howard thought it unlikely that it would ever fully disappear.

You sighed for the second time that morning and buttoned your jacket before slipping on a pair of flats. Plane rides were uncomfortable enough as it was, and you’d be damned if you had to sit with your ankles crossed through the entire ordeal. You looked around the tiny apartment a final time, making sure that you had everything you could possibly need for the trip. You were quietly optimistic that you could wrap up this case within a week, and return home with no further damage.

However, it wasn’t as if you had much here, both personally and professionally. The Chicago branch of the S.S.R. were the unfortunate souls that claimed you, something that they wouldn’t soon let you forget. You were a woman, an inferior, and you’d have a difficult time forcing one of your fellow agents admit that you were a war hero, just as they were. But, regardless of the lascivious stares and offensive words your male coworkers threw your way, you refused to leave Chicago, even though Daniel had been asking you to move to New York for years. You could fade away into the bustling streets, slip into the shadows, forget your name, your mind, your heart--at least, what still remained of it. Another faceless dame in the crowd, forgotten, unnoticed. And you’d have it no other way.

#jack thompson x reader #agent carter #agent carter fanfiction #marvel #daniel sousa #edwin jarvis #ana jarvis #howard stark #peggy carter fanfiction #fanfiction #steve rogers #marvel fanfiction #jack thompson #captain america #x reader