#and then looking around the castle for HOURS just for her to have been following him the entire time | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

peterparkersnose · 2 months

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A Tale of Two Eyes

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x f!reader

word count: 2.8k

warnings: trauma, mentions of suicide, mentions of Helaemond, toxic marriage, reader has established relationship with Aemond and they have children, reader is pregnant, marriage of convenience, political marriage, arguing, undertones of an abusive relationship, selfish Aemond, hate on the Blacks (love Rhaenyra tho, just for the story themes)

a/n woah I wrote?!?! Happy birthday Ewan ily mwah

summary Aemond's son and heir just met the same fate as he did all those years ago with Lucerys.

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read time: 10 mins 11 seconds

That afternoon was a blur. Everything for Y/N has moved so quickly, yet so slowly at the same time. She had asked Ser Criston to fetch her sons, ten-year-old Daeron and six-year-old Aerion, for dinner. They had been playing out in the courtyard for a few hours. She had her three-year-old daughter, Visenya, sat and prepared to feast for the evening meal. Visenya wiggled in her seat, anxious for her brothers to join her to feast. The morning was rough on Y/N, as she was currently seven months pregnant with her fourth child with Aemond. Visenya had been a terror as well, as she has now taken to escaping her caretakers and seeking out Y/N specifically. Y/N was speaking to Visenya, trying to distract her from her hungry stomach and practicing her vowels when her mother-in-law, Alicent, came rushing into the dining room. The Dowager Queen looked frantic as she quickly came to Y/N’s side.

“It’s Daeron,” she spoke, out of breath. “Daeron?” Y/N asked. Alicent motioned for her to follow her, as she did not want to alarm Visenya. Y/N immediately left Visenya with their nanny and followed her mother-in-law quickly down the castle halls.

“What has happened?” Y/N asked, holding her stomach with one hand and walking as fast as she possibly could. “Aegon and Viserys…” Alicent paused. The names of Rhaenyra’s last two surviving sons. They have always quarreled with her and Aemond’s sons, and now she truly feared the worst.

“They have taken Daeron’s eye just as Lucerys did to Aemond years ago.”

Y/N abruptly stopped in the hallway, grabbing the wall for guidance.

“Excuse me?” she blinked a few times, angered at her mother-in-law for just dropping this knowledge on her. For the sake of her unborn child, she tried not to let her emotions run rampant.

For her first child, her first son, heir to the Iron Throne, and the beginning of the new Targaryen age has just been permanently maimed or killed.

Aemond never attended dinners anymore. The man Y/N knew when they were first betrothed was long gone after the results of the dance. Aemond could barely deal with the grief of his siblings, niece, and nephews. Y/N had always speculated a secret love affair with her husband and his now-deceased sister, Helaena, but she never approached the subject. He was never the same after Helaena’s suicide. Aemond had been a broken man since, even though he was living out his dreams. He was now the King. The Blacks were defeated, only leaving Rhaenyra’s two legitimate sons with Daemon, as they were too young to understand the effects of what they were born into. Alicent took them in against her better judgment.

So now, he sat in his office alone like he did most nights. The candlelight was dim and his wine glass was almost emptied. He sat hunched over letters, writing them to various Lords around Westeros. Aemond often filled his time with work so he could escape the horrors of his true life. It was pitch black outside and pouring now, as it had been hours since dinner was supposed to have happened. He heard a knock on his office door.

“Enter.”

He didn’t expect his wife. He straightened his posture and took off his reading magnifier from the bridge of his nose. He took in her essence. She was beautiful, he had to admit. Their marriage wasn’t ideal, but she had been essential for the success of the Greens in the dance, as their marriage brought House Targaryen together with one of the most powerful houses in Westeros. Aemond took a deep breath.

“My lady wife–”

His words got caught in his throat when he saw the blood on her hands. “Is the child all right?”

Y/N nodded eagerly to assure him that this wasn’t a complication in her pregnancy. “What has happened? Is someone hurt?” Aemond eagerly asked, standing up from his desk and striding over to her. “I-It’s Daeron…”

“Daeron?” Aemond replied, relief running over him that the issue wasn’t the child. Yet he worried for his heir. Y/N was shaking, Aemond grabbed her hands. “You mustn't freak.” she asked of Aemond. His brows furrowed. “Calm yourself, woman. Explain what happened.”

“Him and Aerion… got in a scuffle with Aegon and Viserys.”

Aemond’s grip tightened on Y/N’s hands. If it weren’t for the grace of her and Alicent, Aemond would have had those two children’s heads on spikes before they were old enough to realize their parents' crimes. “What prompted the fight?” he asked angrily. Y/N shrugged. “That–that is to be determined. I don’t want you to freak–”

“Do not tell me what to do. What is of Daeron?” he raised his voice to his wife. “He–”

Y/N took a deep breath and paused. She didn’t know how to approach this with her husband correctly and not trigger him from his past. Her hand moved to her husband's cheek, her fingers moving over the strap of his eyepatch slowly. “Do you remember?”

Aemond scoffed.

“Of course, I remember. You don’t need to remind me.” his lips pursed as he closed his remaining eye momentarily and sighed. “Why is this relevant?”

Y/N had no clue how to tell her husband this. She was expecting him to have the same reaction she and Queen Alicent were having.

“Our son just met the same fate.”

Aemond pondered for a moment, then turned around and brushed Y/N’s hand off his cheek. He returned to his desk. He felt sick, he had to sit down. Aemond didn’t fully understand the situation yet but feared the worst. He was silent for a great moment, hearing a small sniffle coming from his wife brought him back to reality. “What happened to Daeron? Do you mean to tell me he’s lost his eye? Don’t tell me he’s dead…”

“He isn’t. But Viserys scraped it out like Lucerys did to yours.”

Aemond slammed his fist on the desk, making Y/N jump. Aemond seethed in anger, thoughts running rampant in his head. After a long pause, he spoke. “And did you tell my mother yet?”

“She is with him as we speak.” Y/N replied, anxiously waiting to see where her husband's emotions ran at that moment. “Where is Aerion? Is he harmed?” he asked of his spare, who could likely become his heir at any moment. “Aerion is fine just… traumatized. He tried to go after Viserys but Criston pulled him away when he got to the scene.”

Aemond seethed, then suddenly threw his wine goblet to the wall. It smashed and scared Y/N. “Aemond–”

“Send Daeron to my mother’s chambers. Tell her I’ll be along shortly, I have letters to write.”

He didn’t even look up at his wife as he put his spectacle back on.

“What?” Y/N held her stomach with one hand, the other on her hip. She was confused. “You’re returning to your work?” She didn’t even get another word in before Aemond snapped. “Send Daeron to my mother's room at once!”

She was utterly shocked. How could he? Work? His son needed his father. The only person who could relate and help Daeron through this terrible time in his life… and Aemond chose to work? “Your son needs you!”

Aemond growled. “I’ll tend to him later. He’s going to survive, and I have work to do.”

Y/N was flabbergasted.

“You’re the only one who can help him understand. The boy is ten and just lost his eye! That is your son!”

Y/N knew she was fighting in a losing battle. But she had to plead for her son. He had been requesting his father for some time now. Aemond abruptly stood, walking to his door. He didn’t look at her once. “If you think talking to him will do him any good, I’ll do it. I’ll write my letters and come when I can,” he mumbled. When Y/N realized this was the best she was going to get, she decided to leave. As she was exiting the door, the child kicked in her womb roughly. She groaned and Aemond looked up to her, seeing her clutching her stomach. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Y/N said coldly. He watched her exit. She wasn’t expecting another word from him.

She could hear him before she saw him. Y/N entered Alicent’s chamber to see her son sobbing, clinging to his grandmother. Alicent brushed his hair softly with her fingers, her stare distant. Y/N could tell that Alicent had seen this story before, and she didn’t like the ending. The look of vengeance plagued the middle-aged woman's face. As Daeron heard someone enter the room, he spoke.

“Father?” Y/N’s heart simply broke then. Daeron was truly in a state of shock, he barely paid attention to anything but the throbbing sensation of the worst pain he had ever felt in his life on his face. “No, sweet boy. Your father…” Y/N caught herself. She couldn’t tell her son that his father refused to see him. No. It would simply break his heart and his spirit more than they already were broken. “I could not find him. The guards will notify him shortly when they find him.” Y/N moved to the bed, and Alicent moved so Y/N could comfort her son Daeron. Alicent gave her an honest nod and stepped into the hallway. Y/N embraced her ten-year-old in her arms, and he rested his head on the fleshy part of her arm. He was still holding a rag over his wound, so Y/N took the rag from his hand and switched it with hers so the boy’s arm wouldn’t grow tired.

“What happened to me, mother?” Daeron spoke softly. He tried to look up at her but failed to do so. Y/N held back tears. “It wasn’t fair, my love. Viserys will pay. I will make sure of it.”

Daeron shook in her arms. “I-I’m scared.” he admitted to her. A sob finally came from the boy again, and he stopped crying when she entered the room. He was trying to stay strong for his mother. He was already showing such promising signs of a good King, even at such a young age. “What will I do without my eye, mother? Do I still have a future, will the girls still like me? They’ll think I’m gross for sure, I just know of it–”

“My son.” Y/N cut off his rambles. “Of course not. We shall not worry about this now. You are a handsome boy, and already a great warrior.”

“But–” Daeron began again. Y/N shushed him. “No. Shh. You must remember your father has the same wound as you. And is he a great warrior?”

Daeron nodded. “And is he married?”

Daeron nodded again. “My sweet son, my heir. Do not worry. You will be the greatest Targaryen that ever lived.” Y/N spoke. She moved closer to her son. “Don’t tell your father or siblings I said that,” Y/N whispered, managing a small smile trying to bring some humor to the boy. He desperately needed it. But it quickly faded, as the child inside of her kicked again.

“Mother?” Daeron asked. Even in his pained state, he cared for his mother. What a good boy she had raised. “Do not worry. The babe is just wild during this time of night.”

Y/N ran a hand over her son's bloodied hair which had now dried. She held him close until he fell asleep. Aemond never came.

During the very early hours of that morning, Y/N had failed to find sleep. She paced her shared chambers with Aemond. He had yet to return. She grew angrier and more frustrated by the minute. And finally, as she was re-lighting the candles that should have been blown out hours ago, she heard the door of her chambers click open and then shut. She turned to her husband, who looked cowardly now, with an angered glare. “Where have you been?”

Aemond shrugged. Y/N scoffed. “Do not play this game with me right now.” Y/N approached him, he smelt of dragon sweat and the salty sea. “Did you just take Vhagar for a ride?”

Aemond sighed. “Yes.”

Y/N couldn’t hold back the angered laugh. “You’re kidding me right now.” Aemond threw his boots from his feet against the wall. “I have my own ways of managing my–”

“Your son has lost an eye. Have you no heart?!” Y/N interrupted him. Aemond seethed silently, pausing. He then threw his jacket on the back of the couch. “I will see him in the morning.” Aemond answered tiredly. Y/N stared at him in shock. “I have no words for you.”

Aemond ignored his wife, moving to the closet. He changed into his nightly gown and his robe. He tried to get into bed, but Y/N was already sitting on the bed when he returned. “No. Not tonight.” she said sternly. Aemond scowled. “And why not?” Aemond asked with a sharp tongue. He was almost at his breaking point with her. Couldn’t she not understand his duties? His trauma from his past? How selfish of her…

“Why not?!” Y/N yelled “Your son has just been maimed for life and you refuse to see him! What kind of father are you?” This statement set Aemond off. All the anger, hurt, and hatred boiled over within him. He tried to keep it in for the sake that he did truly love his wife, but she failed to understand him over the years like this. Aemond took a deep breath. “Don’t you get it? I have been struggling for fucking years! Do you think I want to see my son, bloodied and broken as I once was at his age? No, you daft woman! I wish to be alone. You are incessantly bothering me and I am sick and tired of it!” he lashed out at his wife. Y/N sat in bed, tensed at his words. She didn’t know how to reply. The realization that the reason Aemond didn’t visit their son sank in; he simply did not know how to. “I cannot look at the mirror of my old self in him! For Gods sakes, he already is a copy of me! Now with this…”

Y/N took in his words. She saw him tearing up. “Aemond–” she attempted to speak. He cut her off. “I will have that child sent to the wall along with his blasted brother,” he spoke angrily. “Do not try to talk me out of it either. I am King and I have made my final choice. I have spared their lives when they should join their bastard brother Lucerys in Vhagar’s belly.”

“But your son–” “He will live. You cannot coddle the boy. He must grow strong.”

“How could you say that?” Y/N answered. Aemond shrugged. “My father did the same, and I will follow.”

Y/N couldn’t believe her ears. Viserys was a terrible father to Aemond and his siblings, favoring Rhaenyra. “You know damn well that if Viserys still lived, he would pardon Rhaenyra’s son and blame Daeron somehow–”

“THAT ISN’T THE POINT!” Aemond snapped at her. He knew how terrible Viserys was. He knew how damaged his father had made him. But he was the man he was now because of Viserys, and he would never be the same happy little boy he was before the loss of his eye. And now that the same had just happened to his son, his heir, he couldn’t deal. Y/N watched him in horror as he turned to violence, smashing one of the vases in the room. She held her stomach, fearing her husband in his rage. After Aemond realized what he had done and how he had scared his wife, he stopped. Aemond’s yelling turned into sobs. He collapsed on his bed. Y/N warmly opened her arms to embrace him, despite being terrified of him seconds ago. Aemond clung to her and her baby bump for dear life.

“I’m sorry, I-I’m sorry…” he whimpered, burying his face in the crook of her stomach under her breast. He was shaking. Y/N was too stunned to speak, but she spoke softly. “I know.”

She was furious at her husband. But the effects of the dance had ruined him. This wouldn’t have happened twelve years ago when they wed. They both had to re-learn each other–him with his trauma, her with her dedication to being a mother and a Queen. They struggled too often. But at solemn moments like this, when Aemond calmed down, they just held each other. The truth was, they were just two scared kids in this world. Thrown into the grasp of something neither of them wanted or intended. And that is how they stayed the rest of the night–trembling in each other’s arms, afraid of what the future held for them.

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wileys-russo · 2 months

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spoiled rotten (2) II a.putellas x reader

spoiled rotten sequel, had a buuunch of asks with some more ideas so decided to compile them into a little p2! not proof read cause ya gal is exhausted so apologies for any typos spoiled rotten (2) II a.putellas x reader

"i'm home!" you yelled out, closing the door after you and hearing voices call out from the bedroom as you left your keys and bag on the counter and ventured off to find the source of them.

"oh my..." you trailed off as you rounded the corner and found yourself stood in the doorway of the spare room, eyes widening at the sight in front of you.

"yay you're back!" layla leapt off the floor and raced over, hugging your leg tightly as you ran a hand through her hair but continued to stare with a mix of surprise and horror at the room.

"you've both been...busy?" you exhaled as layla let go of you and returned to alexia's side, dropping to the floor and crossing her legs. "we're building my castle! tia said it can live in here all the time for whenever i come visit." layla chirped as you hummed.

"amor i thought we said we weren't building the castle, or at least you'd call mapi." you caught your girlfriends eye as she held out her hand and your niece slapped a screwdriver into it, a small pile of tools sat beside her making you roll your eyes.

"why? i can do it bebita its fine!" alexia waved you off and you shook your head, judging by the sheer amount of pieces littered around the room and the blondes track record of following instructions you were in for a long night.

"hey lay when did you and tia start building?" you questioned as your girlfriends face paled just slightly. "mmm an hour ago! tia's kinda slow, sorry tia." layla patted alexia's knee sympathetically making you snicker.

"and how much work has been completed in that hour amor?" you questioned with a smile, alexia rolling her eyes and ignoring you. "we put all the pieces out so we could find them!" layla chipped in as alexia sighed and you chuckled.

"lay, babe i'm really sorry but the castle is gonna have to wait. tia alexia is...challenged at building things. but i'll call mapi and she can come over tomorrow to build it." you promised as layla cheered and alexia scoffed.

"challenged!" your girlfriend hurried to her feet and followed you out of the room as you glanced at her with amusement. "yes, that was the nicest way i could think of putting it baby." you grinned, pulling yourself to sit on the edge of the counter.

"i am not challenged!" alexia protested, arms crossed over her chest and a scowl on her face which made your grin widen. "of course not amor you are perfect, so perfect at everything." you cooed sarcastically, pinching her cheeks and shaking her head lightly.

"but not building." you booped her nose as she swatted your hand away and huffed. "sé construir cosas y construiré ese castillo." your girlfriend warned, slotting between your legs and glaring at you as you simply smiled and pressed your forehead against yours.

"i'll have your mami on speed dial then, so she can bring over some food for me to use to coax you out of the bathroom again." you pouted as alexia scoffed again, opening and closing her mouth.

"no no, don't argue mi amor. we both know it happened!" you cupped her face and pressed a tender kiss to her lips.

"oh dios mio, mierda!" you looked up with a frown at the sound of a thud and another string of heated spanish rattle around your mostly bare apartment.

"ale? estás bien?" you yelled out, getting no answer from your girlfriend as you ventured out of the bedroom to find her, having been unpacking the small mountain of boxes full of clothes into your now shared wardrobe.

"amor?" you called out, snapping your fingers a few times when she didn't react, finally pulling her head out of the instruction manual. "whats wrong?" you chuckled, seeing the obvious frustration embedded into her features.

"there is too many parts!" alexia huffed, slamming the instruction manual to the ground. "baby its a few chairs and a table." you withheld the urge to laugh, sensing she was teetering on the edge as you watched the brunette take a few deep breaths.

you gazed around the room at the multitude of flat pack furniture you'd collected this morning with the van while you had it rented for a few hours, sighing quietly at the sheer amount of work it seemed to be.

you'd begged alexia to let you just pay someone to come over and build everything, the catalan having no issue paying movers to help the pair of you move your lives from two apartments into a brand new home which you'd now share.

but her stubborn refusal to let you do so had meant there was now a very large amount of building needing to be done between the two of you, or more accurately by alexia who was also stubbornly determined to do everything herself.

which is what now had lead to your girlfriend surrounded by a 45 piece tool kit she'd bought only an hour ago, including a power drill that in her hands terrified you.

"está bien nena, lo resolveré." alexia exhaled through her nose, picking the instructions up again and burying her head back into it as you hummed. you leant down to kiss her cheek as you passed, her arm reaching out and patting at thin air, her attention focused on the task at hand.

"bebita! ven aquí, por favor." you'd spent several hours slugged your way through three quarters of the boxes of clothes, humming away to the music playing from your phone when you'd heard her come searching for you, calling out.

"amor? vamos, come please!" alexia appeared in the doorway before you could even blink, grabbing your hand and dragging you out of the room ignoring your protests, grip on you unrelenting.

"mira!" alexia gestured proudly and you smiled seeing the dining room table put together, a singular chair pushed beneath it as the others lay discarded and half finished to the side.

"sit sit." the brunette ushered you over and pulled the chair out for you, all but pushing you into it as she hovered by you with an excited grin. "see? i told you i could do it." alexia puffed her chest out proudly.

though you didn't even have a chance to respond, pulling your phone from your pocket where it was digging into your hip and placing it down on the table, a unintentional mistake.

both your eyes widened, yours in shock and your girlfriends in horror as suddenly the legs all caved inward and the table slid completely sideways, a melodious clinking echoing about as a handful of screws scattered the floor.

a squeal left your mouth as then the chair gave in, the back falling off from the base sending you tumbling backwards as alexia lunged to try and break your fall but only managed to cradle your head as the rest of your body crashed to the ground.

you groaned in pain and sat up slowly, rubbing your throbbing tailbone as alexias warm hand disappeared from the back of your neck.

"hey, amor-" you caught the look on her face and tried to quickly reassure her but it was too late. you winced as finally after teetering on the edge all day, the spanish captain snapped.

you winced as a string of angry curse words left her lips, her limbs lashing out to kick chair legs across the room as she shook her fist at the slab of mahogany wood on the floor as if it could hear her, ripping up the instruction manual and hauling the confetti like pieces to the floor and stamping on them.

the burst of rage was short, but effective in destroying all the work she'd clearly put in over the last few hours, which really was for nothing considering she'd clearly skipped over a few key instructions.

you thought she was done when she stood, panting and face bright red, falling silent and staying still for a moment, a thin sheen of sweat coating her body which was only clad in a pair of shorts and a tank top.

"ale-" you started softly, unable to say another word as suddenly she stormed off, the slam and click of the lock of the bathroom door making you jolt a little in shock.

you shot up to your feet as quickly as you could, scrambling to the bathroom and ignoring the throbs of pain plaguing your body. "cariño, open the door please." you knocked softly, only hearing a huff on the other end of the door.

"alexia, please let me in baby." you tried again as a minute passed and you heard no movement, yet another huff and something inaudible mumbled your only response once more.

"amor open the door. its just a table and chairs, we can fix it." you cooed assuringly. "no! déjame en paz." alexia grunted and you could already imagine the scowl which would be embedded into her features, almost able to hear it in her voice.

"ale, open the door you're being silly." you sighed knocking again, silence all you were met with as you pulled a face and yelled silently up at the roof.

"alexia! let me in, please?" you knocked a little harder, a small no grumbled in response as your head thumped against the door. "fine, throw your tantrum then." you rolled your eyes and left her be, pulling your phone out of your room.

you looked around the mess which your living room was, well aware your bed was also laid out in boxes to be built, and made a decision, clicking call and holding your phone to your ear.

"hola hermana que será! how is the new place?" alba sang out cheerfully, answering after only a few rings. "alba, we need help, real help. and hands, many many helping hands! oh and i need your mami, your sister has locked herself in our bathroom." you sighed as there was a pause for a moment.

"vale. i make some calls, find some hands and i will pick up mami and see you very soon amiga! promesa."

"finalizado! a beautiful princess castle for a beautiful little princess." mapi grinned tickling layla who giggled and tried to push her hands away.

"gracais maps." you smiled appreciatively, your niece already racing around the room collecting toys and finding them a home inside her castle, chattering away to them as she did so.

"ingrid! come play." layla waved over the norweigan who moved quickly to sit beside her, layla introducing her to all of her toys as ingrid shook all their hands and said hello making her girlfriend smile fondly.

"ale, say thank you." you grinned teasingly at your girlfriend who stood in the doorway, face like thunder as she only scoffed and stormed out of the room.

"oh amiga i will not be letting her forget this for a very, very long time." mapi sighed happily, tattooed arm draped over your shoulder as the two of you left ingrid and layla to follow alexia out to the living room.

"de nada capi!" mapi called out mockingly as alexia shot her a glare from her place on the sofa, rolling her eyes and burying her focus into her phone.

"woah little racer! we have a speed limit in this house." you snagged layla as she sprinted into the room, hoisting her up and onto her hip. "you know you are my favourite auntie." you raised an eyebrow at her words, her tiny hands settling on your cheeks only furthering your amusement.

"by blood missy i am your only auntie." you laughed, clearly sensing that she was after something. "well you are my favourite." layla grinned as you hummed. "what are you up to hm?" you dug a finger into her ribs making her squeal.

"nothing." she grinned charmingly, a smile which was terrifyingly close to alexia's despite the fact she'd barely been here a week. "oh really?" you questioned as ingrid joined you all, her and mapi watching on in amusement.

"can mapi sleepover? please!" layla begged, hands still on your cheeks as you sighed. "ingrid said it was okay! she said its good because then without mapi around she can have a...a...a self care night!" layla remembered.

"amor!" mapi gasped in mock offence, her girlfriend smiling apologetically and stealing a kiss which seemed to placate the shorter girl beside her.

"can i come too?" alexia glanced to ingrid as you shot her a glare and she merely winked, her sour mood from early seeming to melt away. "pleaseee!" layla begged, hitting you with the pout and puppy dog eyes combo.

"yeah amiga, pleaseee!" mapi suddenly appeared in front of you with a matching expression making you roll your eyes. "fine." you gave in with a sigh, putting your niece down who hugged your leg tightly chanting thank you's as you rolled your eyes but smiled.

"come on pollito, lets go get my bag from the car!" mapi grabbed the smaller girl and hoisted her up onto her shoulders with a cheer. "wait you packed a bag? this was pre-planned wasn't it?" you accused your friend and team mate who smiled innocently.

"call it a thank you gift for my free carpentry skills chica." mapi winked, ducking down so layla wouldn't hit her head as she opened your front door.

"whats a pollito?" layla frowned in confusion at the earlier nickname. "it means little chicken." mapi explained as your niece ohh'd and they started to head for the elevator.

"hey i'm not a chicken!"

"remind me again mi amor why did you say yes to this?" alexia sighed quietly from behind you, the two of you squished together on the sofa as you watched mapi and layla dance around the living room watching the lion king.

"i didn't see you stepping in to say no! what happened to trying to be the bad cop every now and then?" you turned to gaze up at her with a raised eyebrow. "i didn't make her pancakes for breakfast?" alexia tried with a smile, pecking your lips a few times.

"wow how does she not hate you when you are so strict?" you teased, thumb affectionately tracing the curve of her jaw as she playfully rolled her eyes.

your conversation was interrupted as a small body landed on top of you causing you to grunt, layla hovering over you with a grin. "hola!" she chirped, alexia smiling at the spanish and returning the greeting, mapi disappearing to use the toilet.

"can we do makeovers? pleaseee?" she begged, hands clasped together as your eyes flickered to alexia, your girlfriend conviniently stayinfg quiet.

"of course you can! my skin is very sensitive though babe, but i'm sure your tia would love a makeover! right amor?" you grinned as alexia opened and closed her mouth a few times and layla hit her with the puppy dog eyes.

"sí pequeña, i would like a makeover."

with your girlfriend and her best friend occupying layla with their faces as her canvases you slipped off to shower and wash your hair, your girlfriend very unimpressed at not being able to join you like she normally would.

"oh wow! qué bellas señoritas." you whistled with a wolfish grin at the makeup smeared all over both the footballers faces as you returned, drying your hair with a towel.

"smile chicas!" you called out snapping your fingers, mapi grinning and slinging an arm over alexia who glared at the camera, layla squished between them with a beaming smile as you snapped a few pictures.

"now layla i think you need to do their hair and their nails!"

"they're both dead to the world." you chuckled as you quietly closed your own bedroom door, padding over to the bed where alexia lay waiting, arms open ready for you to climb into them.

"dead to the world?" alexia frowned, not quite understanding the euphemism. "just means they're deep asleep amor." you smiled, slipping into bed as she hummed, grabbing at your top and tugging you into her arms.

"mm i think you should have kept the makeup on." you teased as alexia puffed air from her nose. "sí gracias for that bebita." alexia rolled her eyes as you grinned and pressed your lips to hers.

"maybe the makeup might have helped you build that castle." you continued to tease as alexia pulled away when you chased her lips, quirking an eyebrow at you.

"ale!" you laughed as the taller girl suddenly rolled on top of you, pinning your hands by your head with a smirk. "oh princesa you seem to have forgotten again how i am very good with my hands." alexia purred, lips ghosting yours.

"necesita un recordatorio?" your girlfriends teeth tugged at your earlobe as your eyes fluttered close, her lips sucking a mark into your skin, smiling as your hips bucked against her involuntarily.

though right as the blondes large hand trailed down your stomach, fingers toying with the waistband of your shorts, the bedroom door flew open and the two of you sprang apart.

hurrying to tug your shirt down as alexia cleared her throat and scooted as far away from you as she could get without falling from the bed.

"lay? are you okay?" you asked your niece, trying to seem as normal as possible. "mapi snores. can i sleep here please?" the five year old asked hopefully as you sighed.

"okay lala, up you come then."

"what? she looks so cute!" alexia grinned happily as you sighed again, shaking your head as layla walked ahead of the two of you, mapi and ingrid each holding one of her hands as they swung her in between them, the five of you headed to the beach for the day.

"she looks like she's a teenager!" you laughed with a shake of your head, alexia having been in charge of dressing layla this morning had kitted her out in just a few of the multitude of items she'd bought her on their little secret shopping trip the other day.

"kids can wear whatever they want amor." alexia kissed your cheek and you shoved her away as her hand discreetly palmed at your ass.

"behave putellas." you warned with a tut as she grinned. "i have been princesa, but in a few more days when it is just you and i again, i promise to stop behaving." she whispered, kissing your now flushed cheek and effortlessly scooping you up as you reached the sand.

"alexia!" you laughed as she carried you bridal style down the beach toward where mapi and ingrid had already set up. "my turn!" layla lit up as you reached the group and your girlfriend put you back down again.

"oh your turn hm pequeña?" alexia hummed, quickly pulling off her shorts and top, layla's giggles filling the air as your girlfriend picked her up and held her not unlike you'd cradle a baby.

"oye maría! you want to go fishing for sharks? i found some bait." alexia grinned shaking layla lightly who gasped. "oh sí! i have heard they like live bait the best." mapi teased as layla began to wiggle to try and get down.

"vamos little shark bait!" alexia grinned, sprinting off toward the water as mapi raced off after them, you and ingrid opting to work on your tans leaving your girlfriends to burn off their energy as they took turns tossing layla between them as you watched on with a smile at her laughter which carried back to you.

"ale seems very happy." you turned your head to find ingrid smiling at you, eyes covered by sunglasses but you didn't need to see them to know there would be a knowing look in them.

"you both seem very happy." ingrid added on, wiggling her eyebrows as you shook your head and laid back down, looking up to the sky. "come on! you have been together for awhile." ingrid continued to hint.

"we have been talking about it." you gave in somewhat as ingrid gasped. "if ale makes mapi the godmother does that make me a godmother too? or a tia?" ingrid rambled out making you laugh.

"relax! we have been talking about it ingrid, i'm not pregnant yet." you chuckled as the norweigan gasped again. "so you're going to carry? oh this is so exciting. have you thought about names? a preferred gender? would it be a putellas or after you? or maybe both?" your friend barely took a breath, only stopping when you threw a sandal at her.

"mapi has been a bad influence on you with all of her yapping." you shook your head now making ingrid laugh as she apologised and laid back down, seemingly dropping the topic as a pleasant silence fell between you.

you had nearly dozed off when suddenly your body temperature changed as layla jumped on top of you, shaking her head left to right as droplets of icy water rained down on you.

"oh thats funny is it lala?" you sat up and dug your fingers into her sides, holding her in your arms as she giggled and begged you let her go. "tia save me!" layla yelled as alexia and mapi returned from the water, chatting in spanish between one another with wide grins.

"alexia no don't you-" you let your niece go and began to warn your girlfriend, recognising the cheeky smile on her face as before the next word could drop from your lips you were tugged up and thrown over her shoulder.

"hey lay, should we dig a hole and bury mapi?" the five year old agreed eagerly as ingrid started to help her dig, mapi shrugging and joining in, the three of them chattering away and ignoring your cries for help.

"baby no no no please i washed my hair last night!" you begged as alexia started off toward the water, her hand patting your ass. "good thing you can wash it again tonight then precioso." your girlfriend waded into the water up to her hips before tossing you in to join her.

"hola sexy!” she was on you the very moment you surfaced, hands gripping your thighs and hoisting you up, legs wrapped around her torso as she walked the two of you out a little deeper, silencing your mumbles of annoyance with a few sweet pecks to your lips.

"i hate you." you huffed as she only grinned, holding onto you tighter as you tried to push away from her to swim back to shore. "menos mal que te quiero lo suficiente para los dos." the catalan promised sending a slight blush to your cheeks.

"baby were you serious when you said you wanted to talk about kids once lay goes home?" you questioned, hands playing with her wet hair as the older girl nodded. "i was. does this make you uncomfortable mi amor?" alexia frowned as you were quick to shake your head.

"no, it makes me excited." you admitted with a soft smile causing alexias features to brighten. "sí?" she grinned, pulling you even closer if that was possible, pressing her forehead against yours as you nodded.

"maybe once layla is in bed tonight we could maybe look up some doctors? see who to speak to." alexia suggested hopefully as you nodded in agreement. "sounds perfect baby, so perfect." you promised, tilting your head and pressing your lips to hers.

"but cariño when we have our own little bebita we need to get a bedroom door that locks." alexia huffed as you threw your head back with laughter and she let you down, pulling you into a hug as her lips brushed against the crown of your head.

you looked up from your book hearing keys jingle in the lock, snapping it shut right as the door opened and footsteps thudded toward you.

"vale! layla remember what we talked about in the car sí?" you heard your girlfriend yell, voice wavering with just a touch of panic as you started to sit up, your niece appearing and readying herself to launch at you.

"hey! tia." the now six and a half year old groaned as alexia raced in and grabbed her backpack, effectively holding her hostage making you smile. "we said gentle lala, gentle." alexia reminded sternly as you met her worried eyes, nodding softly.

"because she has a tummy ache, i know!" layla rolled her eyes and crossed her arms with a huff. "its okay amor, let her go." you promised, a flicker of doubt crossing alexia's face before she did so.

"hi trouble." you knelt down as your niece crashed into you, hugging you tightly and kissing your cheek. "i missed you. why didn't you come home for christmas?" layla frowned as you gave her a sympathetic smile.

"well you know how tia alexia and i are dating, yes?" you pulled her to sit on the lounge with you, helping her to shrug off her backpack as she curled into your side.

"yeah mummy said alexia is your girlfriend and the two of you love each other very much." layla parroted making you smiled. "we do. and you know how your mummy is my big sister, and grandma is my mum?" you questioned as layla nodded.

"well tia alexia has a mum and a sister too, she has a big family. and because i love her, i love her family just as much as my family. so i spent christmas with alexia's family this year, thats why i didn't come home." you explained as the girl nodded, slight frown of concentration on her face.

"better stop that, or else the wind might change and you'll be stuck like that forever!" you teased smoothing out your eyebrows with your fingers as your girlfriend returned, eyes roaming your body protectively for any sign of discomfort as you sent her a reassuring smile and patted the space next to you.

but before she could take a seat there was a few more knocks at the door and layla perked up. "mapi! ingrid!" she cheered recognizing their voices, jumping down and sprinting off as you pushed yourself up and to your feet.

"oh look, it lives!" mapi cheered, throwing her hands to the air as you rolled your eyes and the tattooed defender pulled you into a tight hug. "we were really beginning to worry, you have not been training or playing for nearly two weeks now. that is a very serious bug!" ingrid looked over you with concern.

"i know, but i'm on the other end of it now. i missed everyone though! only stuck here with captain grumpy for company." you sighed as you let go of ingrid, your girlfriend scoffing in offence where she stood with layla on her hip despite the fact she was definitely starting to get a little old for that.

"don't do that tia, if the wind changes your face will be stuck forever!" layla was quick to smooth out alexias's furrowed eyebrows just like you had done for her before making you chuckle.

"vamos amigas, we made lunch."

"not yet! wait just a second." you warned your niece as alexia handed her a shoe box, doing the same to mapi and ingrid who frowned in confusion, their questions waved away.

alexia's arm wrapped around your waist as she kissed the side of your head and you smiled.

"okay, open." you both spoke in sync sharing a grin, your head dropping to your girlfriends shoulder as her strong arm squeezed you excitedly.

all three girls pulled out barcelona home kits, layla's a kids one as mapi and ingrid frowned. "look amiga i know you have won a lot of trophies but i do not need your shirt to-" mapi directed the comment toward your girlfriend who rolled her eyes.

"cállate y dale la vuelta." alexia gestured for them to turn the jerseys over, all three pairs of eyes widening as mapi's jaw hung slack. "big cousin 2025." layla managed to read out the back of hers, still not quite understanding.

"godparents 2025." ingrid managed out, her and mapi shocked to silence as you and alexia grinned. "so you are-and that is why you haven't been-ohh." mapi sighed in realization as ingrid nodded slowly.

your friends were rapidly up on their feet and crushing you both in a hug, alexia hurriedly warning them against squeezing you too tight as mapi teased her for how overprotective she was being.

"does anyone else know? are we the first?" mapi asked excitedly making alexia roll her eyes with a smile. "our parents know, but thats it. we're going to tell the rest of our families in a couple of weeks once we've had the final scans done." you explained, alexia stealing a kiss as her hand fell proudly to your stomach.

"lay i'm pregnant." you confirmed as your niece still looked a little confused, smiling up happily at alexia as layla screamed and all four of you winced. "there's a baby in here? can i name it? can it come have sleepovers?" layla's body vibrated with energy as she stood before you staring at your stomach in wonder.

"yeah lala, a little cousin for you and a little baby for tia ale and i, a baby all of our own."

#woso #woso community #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs

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hirukochan · 6 months

Note

I feel cheeky sending another ask but I lived the interrogation one so much so just 3 so words: snape sex pollen. Perhaps a professor x professor?

(Ps: is their a place that I can support your writing!!!)

Snape x Professor sex pollen coming right up 🫡

Writing is one of my many beloved hobbies; liking, reblogging, giving kudos or commenting is all the support I need! Thank you very much for asking though!

Blue Speckled Mushrooms

(Severus Snape x fem!Professor oneshot)

Words: 2572

Warnings: 18+ Sex Pollen :D - mutual dub-con, some biting, rough smut

Summary: In your continuing efforts to catch the grumpy Potion Master's attention you follow him into the Forbidden Forest - a mistake of perhaps destiny unfolding?

This is play post-war, Sev survives - not that it matters much to the 'plot'

Read on Ao3 or below the cut:

It could have been so easy. Gather these blasted Moon Cornflowers and Speckled Blue Mushrooms and return to the castle. It’s all he asks for. Moon Cornflowers and Speckled Blue Mushrooms to finish the brew currently under stasis in his office. Two plants. Just a few of each. They couldn’t be preserved through either magic or other means and had to be harvested within three hours of being used in a potion and only during a full moon.

Now usually this is no problem for an accomplished potion master such as Severus Snape. A quick trip to the forest and done. He knows the half-forgotten paths, the safe routes. Knows how to avoid the Centaurs and other nastier beasts that live in the Forbidden Forest.

He does not know how to avoid her.

Irritating, stupid girl.

She took over the History of Magic position earlier that year, one of Snape’s first students he taught after becoming a professor himself at merely twenty-one. A seventh year at the time who already stared at him in the library back when he was a student.

She just wouldn’t leave him alone!

“Midnight stroll?” She asks with that irritating smile on her stupid pretty face and follows him into the forest.

“What do you want?!” He growls at her. She keeps trying to make conversation with him, keeps sitting next to him during meals or in the staff room, talking. Always talking. Talking talking talking.

How can a single person be this annoying?

She is still talking. Jesus fucking christ!

“So anyway…what are you doing here?”

“I don’t see how that is of any concern to you.”

“Just curious, is all.” She replies. Stupid girl. And she is still following him!

You have no idea what to do anymore. You’ve tried everything. You’ve tried catching his attention by talking to him, leaving the top button of your blouse undone, batting your lashes at him like a teen on a love potion, you’ve searched his company, flirted like your stupid life depends on it and the cranky bastard doesn’t even recognise it!

You run to catch up with his long strides, wrapping your cloak around yourself to shield yourself from the cold night air.

You were about to go to bed, just finishing up your rounds through the castle on the lookout for students out of bed when you saw his billowing cloak sweep out of the entrance door. You of course followed him. Curious as to what he was going to do outside but also secretly hoping today’s the day he’ll finally notice your intentions.

Perhaps you have to be less subtle. You thought men like to be subtly seduced but Snape is not like any man you’ve known! Maybe he doesn’t like playing cat and mouse, doesn’t enjoy the chase.

You’ll be blunt! Yes, if a stroll through the forest at midnight doesn’t do the trick you’ll gather what little courage you have and just make the first step yourself. You’re an independent woman! You don’t need to wait around for Snape to realise you’re interested in him and make the first step.

“Are you gathering ingredients of sorts?” You ask and walk quicker to keep up, pressing your arm against his by walking closer to him. He glares at you.

“Obviously.” He snarls and looks forward again.

“Cool. cool cool cool….um…which ones?”

He audibly grumbles.

“Sorry, I couldn’t understand you.” You smile. He is making it very hard to be attracted to him. Grumbly bastard. Prickly idiot. Why can’t he just fuck you? Shove you into a broom closet and let out his frustrations if you’re so bloody annoying to be around! Why can’t you fall head over heels for someone normal?

Because normal is boring.

Your eyes glide over his sharp jaw, every muscle tensed, about ready to snap, beneath his pale skin that shines in the moonlight.

“I said, you were a daft, simple-minded girl when I had the misfortune of attempting to teach you potions - I very much doubt you’d understand any more now than you did seventeen years ago!”

His venom cuts deep. You stumble backwards. You thought he was clumsy when it comes to socialising, that he perhaps didn’t understand your intentions, not that he loathes you.

“Oh…” You murmur. “Um…okay…” don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry. “Sorry for bothering you.” You turn on your heels and run. He calls after you but you ignore it, disappearing between the trees into the undergrowth, away from Snape because you are about to cry your eyes out like the stupid little girl he sees in you and you are not about to embarrass yourself any further than you already have! You just want to go back to your quarters.

Stupid girl! Insufferable, annoying, bothersome, foolish girl!

Snape runs after her. He considered leaving her to her own fate and capabilities and collect his ingredients but he had been cursed with a conscience. A nasty, biting thing demanding he not let her run to her death in an Acromantula den.

He’ll tear her a new one when he catches up to her! The sheer idiocy! Running into the Forbidden Forest like that! What possessed her.

“Stop running!” He snarls, draws his wand and sends a non-verbal Stupor at her. She stumbles and falls face-first into the flower field spreading over the clearing they had entered during their chase. Snape lifts his spell.

You spin around, furious. How fucking dare he? Isn’t it enough to insult you? Does he have to embarrass you by forcing you to bear your pathetic little hurt feelings to him?

He stands at the other end of the clearing, pale blue flowers reaching to his calves, emitting a gentle glow. He looks furious. The light of the full moon illuminates him from the back, deepening his already sharp features, cloaking his face and body in menacing shadows.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” He snarls and points towards the direction you were running in. “Do you want to be eaten by enormous spiders?”

“Like you give a damn!” You shout and pick yourself up off the ground. Swiftly you brush loose dirt and a few pedals off your robes and out of your hair. The motherfucker stunned you!

“I might be a cold son of a bitch but I am not letting a colleague run to her death - no matter how annoying said colleague is. The way back to the castle is-” A wind picks up. His cloak flutters behind him, the fabric whispering with the motion. Pedals are ripped from the flowers.

His eyes widen.

You tilt your head to the side, brows pulled together. “Severus?”

“Stay where you are!” He hisses, sending droplets of spit flying. You look around, confused, searching the dark rows of trees for some beastly critter about to attack but you find none. Snape’s eyes are pinned to yours. His chest is heaving, his breath seems shallow. You take a step forward to which Snape instantly backs away, keeping his wand pointed at- you?

“What’s going on?”

“To the castle! Go back to the castle!”

“I am not your student! You can’t give me orders! And to think I’ve been trying to go on a date with you for months!”

“You have to go back to the castle now or- what?” His wand hand sinks a little. A crease forms between his brows. You’ve never seen Severus so puzzled.

“Year really…” You mutter. “Back in school too-”

“I am not in the mood for jokes or pranks.”

“It’s not!” You take another step forward. Severus’ back hits a tree. The wind picks up. A sweet scent reaches your nose, infiltrates your mind, swirls around your brain like vapours of a potion-

Weren’t you cold?

You were! Yes, you were- but it’s so hot- when did it get so hot?

“Stop that!” Snape snarls again.

“Stop what?” You roll your eyes and pause- your cloak lies in the flower field three steps away from you. You have unbuttoned your robes, revealing the white blouse and dark trousers underneath- when-?

“Go. back.” He has his jaw clenched, teeth pressed together. His nostrils flare, his eyes flick down to your chest and he seems to struggle to force them back up.

“Are you hot too?” Your fingers pry open the buttons of your blouse without you even noticing or you’re just not thinking about it…

“Go-”

“What’s happening?”

“Pollen-”

“What?”

“Where you shit in Herbology too?!” He snaps and you glare at him about ready to-

Your blouse slips off your shoulders and falls to the ground. “Stop- you don’t want this-”

“What? What is this?”

“A rare flower.” His voice sounds pressed, as though he’s struggling to speak, to breathe, to exist. He has his back moulded to the tree, clutching at the bark with his hands, straining to keep his eyes on your face.

The button on your trousers is open.

“The pollens they emit to the air to spread and form these dense fields- they have a unique effect on humans-”

“Which effect?”

“Can’t you tell, stupid girl?”

Your trousers push past your hips.

“You should be running from me, not stripping for me.” His eyes graze over your body, standing in front of him in only your underwear, devouring the sight. His eyes trace along the curves of your body, leaving goosebumps in their wake…Heat rushes to your core.

“Sex pollen-” You gasp, noticing you’re standing a mere arm's length away from him now.

“The rather crude colloquial name - yes.”

“Severus- what-”

“Too late, stupid girl.” He snarls and the next moment he’s on you, pouncing at you like a wild beast. His woodsy, herbal scent flows around you, mixing with the sweet smell of the damned flower. His hands grip your arms roughly, blunt nails dig into your flesh. Severus swirls you around and pushes you against the tree. Bark scratches against your skin, stabbing into it but you don’t even notice.

It’s like a trance has taken over your mind and only one thing matters.

He.

Severus’ mouth latches onto your throat. A million tiny explosions rush over your skin where he touches you and you moan, a feral sound ripped harshly from your throat, echoing over the empty clearing. Severus growls in response, even more feral, even less human. His teeth scrape over your throat. His hands roam over your body, squeezing your breasts, your thighs. Then he tears at his own clothes, shedding layer after layer with a quickness and urgency that has your head spinning.

“Stupid girl.” He repeats and kisses up to your jaw, your cheek. Heated, open-mouth kisses that leave your skin marked by his saliva.

You place your hands on his shoulders, searching for something to hold onto, something to pull you back into reality, your head spinning, skin exploding, core hurting. You’re so aroused, so need it fucking hurts.

“Severus-” You moan. His hands find your thighs and he lifts you up. Your legs wrap around him on their own accord.

“You should have run when you still had the chance.” He snarls against your lips, his breath brushes over your skin. “You’ll regret this.”

“Shut up and fuck me, you prick!”

Your lips meet in a violent clash of teeth and tongue. You’re pretty sure he bites you or perhaps you bite him. None of it matters anymore when you feel his prick against your soaked entrance. You’ve never been so wet- never so wound up- so desperate for sex-

You cry out when he enters you, a forceful thrust that buries him to the hilt in your twitching channel. He is big. Too big under different circumstances perhaps. He doesn’t give you time to adjust. He pounds into you, spearing you open, using his grip on your waist to bounce you on his cock in sync with each of his thrusts.

You cling to his shoulders, your nails drawing blood, fingertips running over old scars, exploring the surprisingly defined muscles of his lean stature.

Your breasts bounce, rubbing against his naked chest, his lips lay claim to yours, your face, your neck, your chest.

He stumbles, his left side giving in and you tumble to the ground. You’ve seen that happen before. The venom of you-know-who’s snake has left him with some permanent damage, not only the huge scar on his neck.

You don’t care.

You push him down to the ground, your hands on his chest and move your hips, lifting them, letting them slam back down, riding him. You throw your head back, your eyes closed, lips parted as his cock drags along your inner walls with delicious friction.

“So- so full-” You moan. Your breasts sway. Severus catches them, squeezing them with such pure delight on his usually reserved face. He twists your nipples between his fingers, revelling in the noises he coaxes from you.

“You could have had this so much sooner, idiot.” You hiss and grind down against him before lifting your hips up once again.

“Wha-?” His puzzled expression is almost cute.

“I’ve been trying to get you to ask me out for months!” As though to reinforce your discontent with his lack of romantic interest you pick up your pace. His head drops back into the flowers. The pale blue petals glow in his inky black hair.

“How was I supposed to know?” He asks, bucking up to meet your movement.

“I was flirting!”

“I thought you were acting especially stupid for some reason.”

“Arsehole!” You dig your nails into his chest but Severus seems to like that. His eyes squeeze shut, his lips part, pleasure drawn into every wrinkle of his face.

“Why didn’t you just ask me out?”

“Would you have said yes?”

“I’d have called you stupid. Perhaps laughed at you. Slip poison in your tea.”

“I hate you.”

“I don’t think you do.”

Quicker than you can follow his movements you’re underneath him and your legs on his shoulders. Your head is still spinning when Severus starts pounding into you. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the clearing, accompanied by your and Severus' animalistic, feral sounds of pleasure.

“I don’t-” You moan and dig your fingers into the dry soil underneath you.

“I know.”

“You’re supposed to say me neither.”

“I do whatever the fuck I want, sweetheart.”

“Shut up.”

“No.”

His balls slap against your arse. His hand drops between your bodies, his fingers find your clit, run over it once- twice-

You see stars. Dots of light exploding all over your field of vision and pulling you into darkness, bringing the complex system keeping your body alive and moving to an abrupt stop. Your lungs refuse to fill with air, your brain crashes, your limbs tense, your whole body forced into a contortion made of carnal desire and the world-ending pleasure Severus Snape brings you.

You twitch. Then you inhale sharply, filling your lungs with air, shuddering, whimpering under Severus who spills inside you with an ear-splitting grunt and then slumps down above you. On top of you. Your legs found the ground somehow. His cock still inside you, throbbing, slowly softening, you lay in the dirt like a starfish, feeling dizzy, overwhelmed and confused.

“Friday.” Severus murmurs, his lips brushing over your cheek as he speaks. “Dinner. Be ready on time or I’ll leave without you.”

“Mh?”

“You really are dense." He grumbles. "Your date, stupid girl. Friday.”

#snape x reader #severus snape x reader #snape x you #Severus snape x you #severus snape x professor!reader #severus snape smut #snape fandom #request #dividers by cafekitsune #sex pollen

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lokis-army-77 · 1 year

Text

The Princess and her Bodyguard

Orc!Eddie Munson x Princess!female reader

Word Count: 2318

When the princess (reader) can't sleep, she calls on her orc bodyguard for some help.

Warning: 18+ unprotected sex, fingering, teasing, p in v, breeding kink, multiple orgasms,

Masterlist

The castle air was stuffy as I lay in the strange bed. Although it was a nice room it smelt of dust and general disuse. The bed was also not as luxurious as the one in my own palace, the lumps were starting to annoy me to no end. You would think that if you knew the royal princess was coming for a visit, you would air out her rooms and find a suitable, non-lumpy, mattress for her to sleep on, but alas, not even the highest of the nobles had the best of the best.

Sighing in annoyance, I threw the blankets from my form and padded my way to the two double doors which marked the entrance to the rooms. Slowly I opened the creaky door and poked my head out. A small smile adorned my lips when I saw my guard standing next to the door.

“Eddie,” I whispered, catching his attention more than I already had with he opening of the door.

His tall form loomed over me as he craned his head down to look at me. The light of the torches turned his normally dull green skin into a more yellow hue. Most people would be scared of him, a tall broad orc, charged with guarding the princess, but not I. I had never thought of him as anything but attractive, much to the befuddlement and disgust of my closest friends and two younger sisters too whom I had told of my attraction.

I looked around the door quickly before grasping his larger hand in mine and pulling him into my room. He came with no protest other than a short grunt in what I could tell was amusement even if his face stayed as stoic as ever.

“Princess, you should be sleeping. It’s nearly the witching hour.” He spoke out as I continued to pull him towards my bed.

“But I can’t sleep, I may need tiring out,” I smirked.

“Ah, but don’t you recall us saying we were going to stop that? You are to be married to one of these noblemen or their sons by the end of this tour.” He spoke, ever the voice of reason.

“Oh screw letting me choose who I am forced to marry, I’d rather be with you.” I trailed my fingers lightly over the leather brace tied around his forearm. I pulled on the ties and tossed the brace to the floor. “Come on, just one more time,” I pleased, knowing full well that would not be the last time I asked.

He groaned as he continued to follow me, his large hands holding onto my hips as he eventually tossed me onto the bed gently. “You are my weakness, you know that?” He mused while he began to untie the many leather articles of protection.

I just laid back in my silk nightgown waiting for him to pounce and ravage me as he had so many times before. His tongue darted out over his lips and the two long tusks protruding from his bottom jaw, the left one adorned with a metal ring around the circumference.

I couldn’t help the giggle which left me when his large hands smoothed over my legs, pushing up the light cloth of my gown to my hips, tickling my skin. He then grasped my hips and pulled me to the edge of the bed, my legs dangled there before he knelt down and placed them over his shoulders.

“And I thought I was the eager one.” I chuckled, only for my words to catch in my throat when he leaned his face between my legs. A long sigh passed my lips as I felt him kiss the soft flesh of my inner thigh. My hands quickly knot themselves in his long hair which had been braided back away from his face. “Please,” I whimpered.

“Please what?” He asked. My body shivered at the feeling of his tusks rooting at my leg, drawing him ever nearer to where I wanted him.

“Please touch me, wanna feel your mouth on my cunt.” I bucked my hips up without thought.

He grinned and placed a hand over my abdomen, holding me still. “You still need to learn patience, Princess.”

“You have tried before, I will never learn,” I smirked, fingers pulling on his hair just slightly, eliciting a low groan.

“We shall see.” He pulled his head away and my fingers slipped from his hair, coming to rest on the hand he had set across me. With his other, he began to massage the delicate skin of my thighs, and there they met at the apex between them but never once did his fingers slip past the slit of my cunt and into the wetness.

My head flings back as I whimper. He felt so good but not as good as it would feel if he were touching me where I wanted. My body was vibrating as need and want grew with each simple push of his fingers.

Minutes felt like hours as his fingers continued to tease me. I could feel the wetness growing and I was sure that soon it would be seeping down my ass and onto the bed. I was a mess of whimpers and short pleas of need, Eddie simply ignored them all in favor of placing his whole hand over my pussy mound and rubbing circles. I could feel the faintest pressure on my clit and tears of frustration began to well up in my eyes.

“Please, please, touch me. I need you to touch me.” I begin to beg, not being able to take any more teasing.

“I am touching you.” He states, voice mocking.

“Need more. Please, Eddie.” I try and buck my hips only to be pushed back down.

“I don’t know if such an impatient princess needs more. I don’t think you deserve it.” His fingers leave my body and he's now looking up at me, grinning.

“I do deserve it, please. I’ll be good, I’ll be patient.”

“Are you sure?”

I nod desperately and breathe a sigh when his large middle finger slips over my slit and then pushes past, collecting wetness and pushing it to my slit. A moan leaves me as well, my body elated to be touched.

His finger rubs into the swollen nub, back and forth, back and forth. He started slowly at first then the movement became faster and faster. I couldn’t help but clench around nothing as he toyed with me.

“More.” I pleaded with him, trying hard not to let my hips move.

“Oh, you want more? Are you not content with what I’m giving you?” He hums. “Sounds to me like you need to be taught a lesson on being greedy.”

I cried out to him, back arching off the bed, “No please, I’m not trying to be greedy.”

“You aren’t? It sounds like you are.” His finger keeps flicking past my clit.

“Please, I’m begging you, just a little bit more, that’s all I need.” My own fingers gripped his arm tightly as I shook in his hold, so close to coming but not quite there.”

He shook his head as he sighed, relenting to my pleas. Moving his finger from my clit, he began to circle my entrance. My breathing stuck in my chest when I felt the digit push inside. It was long and thick around, stretching my walls out. I cried into the humid air of the room.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” My cunt squeezed him tightly as I whimpered.

The sounds of him thrusting into my wet pussy were loud. It sounded as though there was someone sloshing around a bucket of water. Eddie’s other hand moved from pinning my hips down to having his thumb circling my clit.

A long deep mewl flew from my lips at the stimulation. I was coming to the edge and he knew it if his unrelenting movements were something to go by.

“Don’t- Ah! Don’t stop. Gonna cum!” I cried, tears running down my face no longer from frustration but pleasure.

He began to move his finger and thumb at an almost unrelenting pace. I could barely make out the praises he spoke over the sounds of my own moaning.

“That’s it, Princess. Let it all go.” He coaxed.

It took only a few more thrusts into me and I was coming. A rapture of intense feelings came over me as I writhed, back arching even more, hip bucking wildly.

“You always look so pretty when you cum.” He coos up to me as he takes his fingers away, pushing them into his mouth to taste them. “Taste good too.”

I have no time to catch my breath before he is atop me, large green hands pushing my thighs together and back so the tops of them touch my stomach. His own thighs press snugly to my ass. I moaned at the feeling of his long hard cock resting against my cunt.

“Gonna give you what you really wanted now.” He grins, taking one of his hands and giving his cock a few rough tugs.

He gives no warning when he pushes my thighs back more, causing my lower back to lift off the bed, and placing his cock at the entrance to my wanting cunt. The head pushes in, taking my breath away at how big it is, and stretches me out even more than his finger had. My hand flies to my mouth to keep my loud sobs from being heard outside of my room.

Eddie pushes in slowly only to pull back and then push in again. He begins to fuck only his thick head into my cunt. The position he has me in gives me no leeway to movies I am stuck lamenting over how I can feel every excruciating bump and ridge of the first inch of his cock being constantly thrust into the tight rim of my cunt.

With each advance of his cock, wet arousal seeped from our junction. I could feel it as it slowly flowed down my round ass, to my back, then finally onto the sheets below soaking them. I was at a loss for words as he fucked me, his cock, like always, had reduced me to a needy, horny mess.

Moments later he stopped only fucking the head inside and began to plunge into me all the way. I bit my lip to keep from screaming out into the open air. I could practically feel him hitting my cervix, bruising my insides as he moved like a beast built for battle.

I loved every painfully pleasurable minute of it. My body eventually went ridged beneath him, and my skin became clammy as a sweat broke out all over. I was on the verge of another orgasm.

“God, I’m gonna fill you so full of my cum, have you nice and bred.” He begins to grunt.

I nod my head frantically. “ Yes, yes, please. Want it so- ah- bad!” His words made a flash of heat erupt through my body. Never had he mentioned breading before but now that he had said it, it was all I could think about and it was bringing me so so close to the precipice.

“How would you explain that to your father, the King? Hum? How will you explain all the little half-orcs running around when you’re supposed to be marrying one of these Noble lords?” His thrusts become wild and without rhythm. “Such a fucking whore aren’t you? Letting an orc fuck you over and over.”

I grunt and groan at his words, nodding my head along with him. “Don’t want them,” I speak breathlessly. “Only want you.”

Then, like the snapping of a rope, I am cumming again. My muscles seize up, and My cunt contracts and spasms around Eddie’s cock as he also cums. Greedily I take everything he gives me.

We both ride out our respective highs together before he leaves me, hands uncurling my aching body, massaging my skin where the joints ache.

My eyes are half closed, overcome with exhaustion, and now ready to sleep. I can feel Eddie climbing up my body, placing soft kisses along my naked frame before he nestles me into his chest.

“I’m sorry. I should not have let myself release inside of you.” He mummers into my now frizzy hair.

I shake my head. “Don’t worry about it.”

He moves some of my hair from my face and leans down for a short kiss. “I do have to worry about it. I am supposed to protect you, nothing good will come of you being with child, especially from me.”

“Then maybe we can run away together. I never wanted to rule in my father's place anyway. I’m more of an adventurer at heart.” I joked, eyes now fully closed, head resting on his chest.

He shakes his head and lowers it to the bed, resting.

“If I am pregnant, we can work that out when it comes to it. We don’t know for certain, and even if I am, there will be a few months before anything will show.”

It’s quiet for a long time, I assume he has just fallen asleep like I am about to but then his voice rings out next to me.

“Would you really run away from all of this? A life of luxury and safety for one of near poverty where we would be looked down upon? No one likes the thought of an orc and human together.”

“Yes,” I confess. “But only if it were with you.”

“Then it is decided. If you being to show, we will leave and never return.”

I hum in response.

"It seems you are now tired out." Eddie laughed and it is the last thing I hear before I am finally falling asleep.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #stranger things fic #female reader #orc!eddie #orc eddie munson

3K notes · View notes

animeshotsh · 2 months

Text

Baby baby~ | Original Sins x Kid!Reader + Stolas x Kid!Reader + Octavia x Kid!Reader |

Summary: Lucifer finally gets his close friends to meet you!! Warnings: no one, just FLUFF.

Lucifer wanted you to meet his closest friends and sins, he had planned this day for so long. He invited Charlie and Vaggie of course, but kept Alastor away.

"Only if i get to take (Y/N) out for the next two days"

And he had accepted, wanting nothing more but to kill the sinner.

~☆~☆~☆

The castle was decorated, Lucifer and the rest of you wearing their best clothes. Food was served, drinks were out (no alcohol allowed) and you guiding Charlie to your room to show her your drawings.

"They are amazing (Y/N) but the rest will soon come-"

Charlie could not end her talk as a very distinct voice claimed from other room.

"Now were its your sweet new kid! Im dying to meet them" The big form of Asmodeus said the three faces looking around for you.

The left one noticed you in the corner by the hand of Charlie.

"Oh!! There they are, (Y/N) come and say Hello to Lust!!" Lucifer called you missing your scared look as you slowly approached the big Sin.

Asmodeus went down on his knee bowing to you "Its a pleassure to meet one of our King's kid, im Asmodeus, you must be (Y/N)"

You nodded looking at his 3 faces and soon smiling at them "You got 3 faces!! And you are so tall, can i get that tall too?"

Asmodeus looked over Lucifer asking for permission, once Lucifer noded Asmodeus took you and let you sit on his shoulder.

"This is great!!" You exclaimed

~☆~☆~☆~

After some more minutes you were left down on the floor when a portal opened, a tall owl dressing in a fashion way appear, behind him a smaller one. Stolas soon saw you and (wanting to show off) opened his book, dark sky appear on the ceiling, different constellations left the sky and went towards you, twirling you around and making you laught.

"Oh Stolas its so good to meet you again my friend!!" Lucifer exclaimed quickly going to shake Stolas hand. "Its has been eones indeed" Stolas agreed looking as you played with the constellation of a horse.

"And Octavia! You have grow so much, I remember when you were so tiny" Lucifer added making Octavia blush and nod at the king who then pointed at Charlie and Vaggie who went to his side. "Im not sure if you remember my daughter, but this is Charlie! and her gilrfriend Vaggie".

Charlie gave a kind smile to the goetia bowing respectfully as well towards her and Stolas "Im so glad to be meeting you again"

Soon you came to them, the horse constellation following you. You stood suprised at the tall owl who got down on his knee as well "And this must be the precious (Y/N), you father never stops talking about you" Stolas said then softly pushed Octavia "This is my daughter Octavia"

You took notice of Octavia being a bit uncomfortable under the attention "Hello! im so happy to meet more friends, i like your clothes! Dad can i get dark clothes too?" you asked to quickly switch the attention to him.

"Of course we can, anything for my small bean" Lucifer beamed.

Octavia gave off a small smile as you smiled at her then went to ask her father about his magic.

"Oh then let me start with the basics..."

~☆~☆~☆~

After what felt like hours of stories of magic a new sound was hear.

"Oh finally, she loves making a big scene" Asmodeus said looking over the flying figure surronded by smoke.

Soon the room was being filled up with music and sweet smell. A pair of hands took you and as the smoke went off you could see what you would describe as a big yellow wolf.

"Awww look at you, you look even sweeter up close!!" Bellzebub said pushing your cheeck against hers smiling. "Lucifer, you must take good care of this one or soon they will end up dating"

"NOT ON MY WATCH" Lucifer exclaimed now having an internal crisis.

Beelzebub soon let herself on the floor with you. "Im Beelzebub, but you kind soul can call me Beel"

"You are beautiful" you could only say in response seeing her hair move around with different colors.

"Aww, and i got all of you a gift"

Soon lots of bottles with orange liquid appear.

"Dont worry this ones" she pointed towards some bottles with what it was supposed to be a demon kid "has no alcohol in it"

~☆~☆~☆~

Quick Extras:

You ended up making Octavia share her music with you and her love for taxidermy.

Mammon did come but only because Lucifer forced him, he ended up liking you as you saw him as "a big huggeable clown" and "you smell like money" you did won him over and he promised to bring you something next time.

Five seconds later tons of money appear alongside a plushie of a famous demon called "Fizzarolli".

Everyone tried to prevent you from drinking too much but you ended with too much sugar and ran for the rest of the night.

Stolas gave you a book of basic magic and told you to call him if you need help with anything.

Beel made you promise that once you get older you would go to one of her parties (how no one knows since you are a sinner but anyway).

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x reader #lucifer x reader #charlie x reader #mammon x reader #asmodeus x reader #beelzebub x reader

336 notes · View notes

moonchildstyles · 6 months

Text

oleander

oleander part one: nothing could draw y/n in the way harry could

wordcount: 11.7k+

cw: this leans into some darker themes including a description of a dead body, mentions of a parent who has passed away, some panic attack descriptions, and just in general some doom and gloom vibes! but I promise this is a love story im just doing something diferent!

—————

(Y/N)'s eyes followed the immaculately dressed figure floating through the shop. Barred from getting closer with the counter in front of her, she could only watch as he made his way through the small apothecary. He never glanced in her direction, though she doubted he was unaware of her eyes on him.

Dried herbs hung around his head like a dreary halo, the muted tones falling in line with the rich brown of his hair. He was tall enough that he just barely grazed the line of lavender sprigs strung up and dehydrating above his head. His coat was of a deep green velvet, tailored to show off the broad of his shoulders and strength of his arms. The matching cravat around his neck stood out starkly against the white shirt under his grey waistcoat, his skin appearing almost as pale as the starchy collar standing stiff against his throat. She wished that he would turn around for just a second; she wanted to see his eyes. Were they really as dark as she remembered, or had the town's gossip altered her memory?

As if hearing her thoughts, he quickly picked his head up and made to turn and match her gaze. She urgently dropped her eyes to her hands, pretending as if she had been preoccupied the whole time by the bundles of sage she was meant to be tying. Now her wishes turned to that of hoping he didn't catch her staring. She was sure he got enough of that as is when he bothered to venture down to their small village; he didn't need any more when he was simply trying to shop.

Forcing herself to keep her eyes down, (Y/N) tried to forget the Count's presence (was he even a Count? She wasn't sure, but that was what she had heard the women at church calling him, and no one seemed to object). She hoped he couldn't hear the sound of her heart as easily as she could, the beats pounding through her ears just from the fact she knew he was traipsing around her father's shop. Casting her gaze out the small window situated by the collection counter, she tried to see past the thick fog that had gathered that morning and done little to dissipate through the hours. If not for the fact she had lived here all her life, she would have had problems navigating through the mist. She wondered how someone like the Count fared under these conditions. He barely left that castle of his, how did he or his footmen know where they were going this time of year?

Granting herself a single peek in his direction, she saw he had gone back to shopping. He moved so silently, she wondered how he was able to cross the apothecary so vastly without a single footstep being heard. She watched as he brought bundles of herbs to his nose, taking in the heady scent. He always did this, she noticed. He always looked around until he found the strongest smelling bundles.

Truthfully, to (Y/N), all the bundles smelled the same. She couldn't notice if one sprig of lavender smelled richer than another, but maybe he knew something she didn't. It wouldn't surprise her if he spent his young years studying herbs and reading books about all of the healing plants, or whatever it was that young gentlemen did in their formative years.

Though it was a hard task to pull her eyes away from him, (Y/N) made the effort to do so. Her father really would be upset if she didn't tie up all these bundles before sundown; he barely liked her working at the apothecary as is, he didn't need any other reason to boot her from the counter.

With her eyes trained on her fingers and the clumsy bows she was tying out of twine, (Y/N) practically jumped out of her skin when she caught movement from the corner of her eye. Pale hands dropped bundles of herbs on the counter, just barely in her line of sight. Her breathing stuck in her throat when she whipped her head up, finding the Count looking at her with his dark eyes.

She hadn't misremembered, it appeared. His eyes really were almost black, just barely tinted a forest green on the edges—if the forest in question was being spotted in the pitch of night, only a sliver of the moon and stars above allowing any distinction.

Her heart jumped in her throat, running faster than it had any reason to when their eyes met. She forced herself to swallow it down.

"I'm sorry, sir," she muttered, unable to pull her gaze away from his even if she instinctively wanted to look anywhere else. "Did you find all you were looking for?"

"I did, yes." His voice was a lulling rumble, rounded and heady as if the goal was to lure her nearer. If not for the table separating them, she would have fallen for it.

Offering a quiet smile, she gave him a polite nod.

No other words were exchange, as per usual for his visits. The Count wasn't much for conversation and idle chatter like the rest of the village. Instead, she could feel him watching her as she counted up his herbs and the price of each bundle.

He was buying the same ones he always did: winter savory (he switched to chamomile when out of season), tobacco, and lavender.

The buds together created a confusing scent, adding to the mishmash of what the apothecary already was. She couldn't imagine how he would put these three together in any space of that castle, the mixture too aggressive.

Though she tried her best to concentrate on only the herbs, (Y/N) was too aware of the static of his presence. She wondered what he thought when he came down to the village, what he thought when he interacted with people like her. He was always so stoic. He never gave anything away, though that didn't stop the village gossip from running wild about him.

Swallowing around her dry throat, heartbeat bubbling against her ribs, she matched his gaze. The pricing for his bounty came out on buzzing lips, "Sixteen shillings please, sir."

He didn't bat an eyelash at the price despite it being the biggest single purchase her father's apothecary would see until the next time he ventured down. Instead, he looked at her with his dark eyes and a tic in his jaw. He was unbearably handsome, made of cut edges and smooth planes, but he always looked at her as if he were angry and working to bury it down. She could never figure out why or what exactly made his nostrils flare or his jaw tight when he spoke to her, but she hoped she wasn't the only one he reacted to like this.

His hands moved quickly, pulling out a small pouch of tinkling coins before he plucked out the exact amount for her. For a moment, she could see bank notes tucked inside the pouch as well. While she wasn't surprised that someone like him would have that kind of wealth, she had never seen it before with her own eyes.

Passing off the change to her, his pale fingers grazed her open palm. Goosebumps immediately raised across her skin, his touch feeling as if he had been standing in the dawn's dew for hours, allowing the chill to cling to his skin and leach away all hope for warmth. The graze was quick, barely a heartbeat long, but she swore she could feel the lingering touch for moments after. Maybe he really did have a hard time navigating the village when the fog was this thick, having traveled in winding routes and wrong turns for so long he still hadn't been able to heat up even after spending time in the shop.

Flicking her gaze up to his on instinct, she saw he was looking at the swatches of skin exposed from her dress, eyeing the goosebumps he had plucked up on accident.

(Y/N) cleared her throat, nothing more than a reminder to herself to keep professional and not to gawk at the man. She placed the change in the small cup underneath the collection counter before reaching for his herbs of choice. A length of twine was used to tie up his product, ensuring he didn't lose anything on his way back home.

"Thank you," he muttered once she passed them back, their skin no longer grazing this time.

"Have a pleasant journey back home," she chirped, her voice decidedly pleasant against the bubbling she was feeling inside, "Stay warm."

The Count didn't give any kind of reaction to her before he was leaving the shop in a flourish. Taking advantage of the window at her disposal, she watched as he ventured out into the fog. The mist mingled around him, making him appear as if he were a ghost—one with the Earth-bound clouds. She was only vaguely aware of the way her body heat ticked up some now that he had left.

Though she could hear the sound of footsteps descending the stairs that led up to their home a floor above, (Y/N)'s head was outside the shop and away from her father. She didn't turn even when she could tell he had made it to the landing. He was used to it by now, she knew. Her head was always miles away as far as he was concerned—thinking too big for the village with daydreams that were only going to hurt her in the long run.

The air around her shifted, telling her that her father was just behind her, likely watching to see what had caught her attention this time.

"Is that Harry?" he grumbled, spitting out the name while dismissing the faux-title since they were alone.

Her father didn't much like the Count—Harry, as he bitterly spat out. (Y/N) was never sure what precisely had set off her father's distaste for the man, just knowing that he thought Harry to be something of a boogeyman against the village. He didn't even go to church, her father regularly complained. What kind of man was he if he couldn't even bother to trudge down from his palace to spend some time with God, even if it was in the presence of commoners?

(Y/N) never really minded. Though she'd never tell her father, church was boring. She couldn't blame Harry—the Count, whatever she was supposed to call him—for skipping out. Especially with the peeks at the castle she could garner if she trekked through the woods far enough. She wouldn't want to leave that place for anything.

Nonetheless, (Y/N) answered with a soft, "Yes." Her eyes were still locked on the form of him she could barely make out through the mist.

A grunt of disapproval left her father's lips. She didn't have to look at him to know that he had his arms crossed over his chest. "Are you okay?"

It was when he settled a hand on her shoulder that she snapped out of her staring.

"Yes, I'm well," she answered as placidly as possible when she turned to face him. She didn't want to show just how affected she was by the Count. Her father would do more than just grunt and disapprove if he knew just how drawn to the man as she was.

He peered through the window, his eyes surely finding the one dark figure filtering through the fog. His brows slanted into harsh slashes over his eyes. "From now on, I want you to find me when he comes in, and I will take over. I do not want him talking with you."

Her fingertips buzzed at the new instructions, matching the kickstart to her heartbeats. As much as she heard her father's concerns, and had listened in to all the of the stories and webs spun about this man, those did little to deter her interest in Harry or quell the bubbling in her chest every time she saw him step inside the apothecary.

"I can handle him, father," she countered, trying to sound as uninterested as possible while attempting to hold her ground, "We barely talk when he comes in, anyway."

The creases between his brows only deepened when he matched her gaze. "I do not want you becoming one of his victims, (Y/N)."

Her lips thinned at his words. "All of those stories are rubbish, father, you know that," she pressed, her words lighthearted despite the argument she was wagering by not immediately giving in, "Since when have we started listening to what Mary and Ethel have to say?"

He didn't break any, even when she knew she was making a valid point to him. Gossip was prohibited according to the Bible, and yet he was citing stories she had heard the worst of gossipers weave?

There was no real reason for anyone to believe that Harry had anything to do with what had been going on just outside of the village, he was just easy to pin it on seeing as no one really knew him. She doubted any of them—including Ethel and Mary—could actually believe that he was the one behind the bodies that had been found in the woods, and the disappearances that had been added to the murder count.

From what she'd heard, all signs pointed to animal attacks—wolves, or bears, or anything viscous. Though her stomach curdled at the thought, she couldn't see the Count being the one to rip out commoner's throats, to leave them crumpled in the brush with blood sinking into the earth. All of it was gossip and evil rumors that had not even a shred of truth inside.

"Still," her father stated, countering her argument, "There's something wrong with him, (Y/N)."

Wrong was very far from threatening as far as she was concerned, especially when it came to Harry. Though, this most likely wasn't the time to share that opinion. She would keep her thoughts about him to herself, her own small secret against the rest of the village.

Harry didn't scare her like he did the rest of them, but they didn't need to know that.

"Okay," she relented with a quiet nod, turning back to the collection cup so she could pass off the earnings to her father. "I will come grab you next time."

(Y/N) wasn't sure if it was the additional shillings added to the cup or her pleasant agreement that had her father's features relaxing with a small smile on his lips, but she wasn't going to object.

Besides, she wasn't going to actually follow through on her promise. Harry was her favorite customer, even if she wouldn't admit it out loud. Her father would have to try harder to steer her clear of Harry.

—————

(Y/N) struggled with the strap of her shopping baskets, one hanging from her shoulder over her back with another dangling from her hand. They were stocked full and heavy, filled with everything her father requested that morning before she was sent off. She hadn't even realized how late she was running with her errands, how many items she had picked up and how heavy her bags were becoming until the sun had already gone down and her shoulder ached with the amount she had packed in.

With the season's change, the sky was almost pitch by the time she made it to the edge of the village, the air chilled and crisp. Her father was going to have her head for making it back so late, but what could he have expected, really? He was the one that wrote the list, knowing half of the items were only available in the neighboring village.

She hummed as she followed the path, giving herself some company and filling the silence. She hated being out this late—the dark scared her more than it probably should at her age.

Her steps slowed as the bag hanging from her shoulder once again began to shift. No matter how hard she tried, it wouldn't stay put. She attempted to adjust the strap once more as she cautiously stepped over the path.

With her attention placed elsewhere, she didn't notice the man in her way until she bumped directly into him.

Her heart started in her chest, rattling against her ribs. She jumped back, whipping her head up with wide eyes. Before her stood the familiar dark-haired figure she had seen just a week prior, pursuing through the apothecary.

Harry's cut features were pinched with a furrowed brow, his dark eyes trained on her. He was pale like a ghost compared to his dark clothing that blended in with the rest of the night. He reached out to steady her, baskets and all, when she tottered on the low heel of her boot.

His touch singed her like snowflakes as he grasped at her bare arms.

"H-Harry," she gasped, his name falling from her lips before she had a chance to collect her bearings. Her skin warmed when her brain caught up with herself; she'd never called him by his name before—or called to him at all now that she thought about it. "I am so s-sorry."

What exactly she was apologizing for—using his name so brashly or running right into him—she wasn't sure, but she could cover for both, she figured.

"It is alright," he murmured to her, his hands lingering on her biceps, "I didn't mean to frighten you. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, thank you," she asserted, "I wasn't looking where I was going. It has been a long day."

Tipping his head, as if her word wasn't enough, Harry looked her over before dropping his hands from her arms and taking a calculated step back.

"I'm sure it was," he said to her, his voice still a low whisper, "Is what why you are out so late?"

(Y/N) eased into the conversation, despite knowing it was more than a little inappropriate to be alone with a man this late into the evening. She was flattered the Count wanted to speak to her at all, honestly. He always seemed so eager to flee from the apothecary and the rest of the village during his visits. In her dreamland, she liked to think that he actually enjoyed seeing her, this run-in being his opportunity to speak to her without all of the prying eyes trained on him.

"Yes," she sighed, shifting the small basket on her aching wrist to the other, "I had to do the shopping today, and my father always requests things he knows I have to search all over for, so I've been busy since I woke up."

Harry hummed at her words, his dark eyes seemingly lighting up with amusement at her trivial complaint. He eyed the heavy bags she was carrying before he met her eyes once more. "Would it be alright if I accompany you back home? It's too dark for a lady like yourself to be walking alone."

Biting back a smile, (Y/N) felt her blood warm under her skin. Someone of his status would know a lady when he looked at one, and (Y/N) definitely wasn't. He had to be teasing her.

"I'm no lady," she explained, though she didn't sound that convincing under her smile, "But, I think I would really enjoy some company. Thank you."

(Y/N) was well aware of what it would look like to be walked home by Harry at this time of night, alone on the path and unchaperoned. It would have been bad enough with any man, but seeing as this was the Count, she could only imagine the kinds of rumors Mary and Ethel would spin. The fluttering in her heart urged her to ignore those worries, though; Harry most likely knew better about societal standards than she, given their stations, and he had enough rumors swirling about him that he wouldn't want to add to if he could help it. If he wasn't worried, then she wouldn't either.

"Lead the way," he said, smiling at her with dazzlingly perfect teeth.

"Its not too far," she started, peering down the path to see the late night tavern still boiling with people and the small homes that decorated the mouth to the village. "It's just down that way," she told him, nodding her head in the direction they were to take.

Before she went too far, she adjusted her grocery-laden baskets once more, barely holding back a wince at the weight on her shoulder.

Harry still seemingly noticed even if she had tried to be discreet. He didn't immediately follow her steps back home. "Let me carry those for you. They can't be too comfortable after such a long day."

While she was sure it was good form to decline his offer, feign strength she didn't have and continue on without complaint, she wasn't going to pass up on the offer to relieve the stress on her shoulder.

"I would really appreciate that, actually," she sighed, shifting the basket off her shoulder in a haste, "Thank you."

"No need to thank me," he answered simply, a pleasant lightness to his features as he took the strap from her hands. He slung it over his own shoulder with an ease (Y/N) could only dream to have. He didn't stop there, taking the smaller one from her wrist as well.

She was free to roll her joints and feel circulation return to all limbs, more than gracious for her impromptu partner for the night.

"You said it was this way, yes?" he prompted, starting down the path towards the edge of town where both the apothecary was as well as the flat above it where she and her father resided.

"That way," (Y/N) affirmed with a smile, falling into step beside him as they started off through town.

A careful silence fell between them, full of opportunities that twinkled like stars. This was her chance to know him, bask in his presence, learn who she had only gazed at from afar. Though every time she looked at him from the corner of her eye, she felt her throat dry. He was even more gorgeous under moonlight.

"You know," he started first, unbraiding the silence, "I don't think I've ever seen you come out from behind that counter. I was starting to think you never left; like you were some kind of spirit attached with manning an apothecary at all hours."

A bubbling peal of laughter felt from (Y/N)'s lips, her hands a fumbling bundle at her waist. "It feels that way, sometimes," she smiled, "But I promise I do have more hobbies than only drying herbs and counting coin."

"And what might those be?" the Count pressed, looking down at her. In the low light, (Y/N) expected his eyes to look impossibly dark, more like coal than even in the daylight, but she found that ring of green to show more prominently now under the moon.

"Um," she floundered, tearing her eyes away from his when she felt goosebumps raise over her skin and her heart bounce against her lungs, "I-I like to tend to our garden—for the shop."

"I didn't know grow everything yourself. That must keep you rather busy."

(Y/N) shrugged, "It can, depending on the season. But, I've figured it out through the years, and made it easier on me."

"You grow everything for your shop, then?" Coming up to a fork in the path, Harry paused, waiting for (Y/N) to take the first step in the right direction before he followed.

"Most of it," she mused, an immediate list of their inventory coming to mind, "There's still a few things that I have to scavenge for, but I've become rather good at that as well."

"I don't doubt that," Harry smiled, the curl audible in his voice, "Was it your idea then to start the shop? Fill it with all the things you could grow?"

"Oh, no," she declined, a furrow appearing in her brow, "My father and mother started the apothecary when my sister and I were still babies."

"I don't think I've met your sister or mother," Harry shared, casting his gaze towards her once more, refractions of green shimmering in his irises.

While (Y/N) dreaded the subject, she couldn't exactly complain since she had been the one to bring them both up. Truthfully, it wasn't hard to talk about any more, it was harder to field the reactions of those around her when she shared the story. It was never easy to quell retroactive grief.

"My sister married and moved to the country almost two years ago," she started easy, keeping her gaze forward, "My mother passed away when I was a child."

When the Count didn't immediately answer, (Y/N) peeked up to find him looking at her differently than before. She didn't find pity swimming through his eyes, only sympathy. He looked at her like he knew her pain.

"It is a hard thing, losing family," he murmured, shifting his gaze towards the sky, "But, it can only grow easier as time goes on."

Tracing her eyes over his profile, through the immaculate stone-like chisel of his features and unblemished skin, she swore she could spot the same fine lines by his eyes and slight crease between his brows that she and her sister had sustained since their mother passed.

She swallowed, hoping her next line of questioning didn't breach too far. "Have you lost family before?"

"I have," he smiled, though it didn't completely reach those fine lines by his eyes, "It was a long time ago. It's funny how after a while, you can forget what it was like before."

Though (Y/N) loved her mother dearly and cherished those memories she had with her, she had been without her for longer than she had been with her. She knew what Harry was talking about, exactly. Missing her mother was just a part of her now, and it wasn't anything she tired to push away or get over. She grew around the grief and held onto her mother in that space.

"Exactly," she agreed, relieved to not be trying to quell someone else's grief and pity for her, "I've remembered her for longer than I actually knew her, but it does not upset me any more."

"Good," Harry cemented, "She wouldn't want you to be bothered by her memory."

Looking ahead, the town square was approaching with the town's tavern still full despite the late hour. That was the one place that could be bustling at any time of night, any day of the week. (Y/N) hoped no one would peer through the windows and catch her late night stroll.

"I apologize for speaking so morbidly," (Y/N) laughed, though she didn't exactly feel guilty to be learning that much more about Harry, "Since you know more about me, I would like to know more about you."

"I'm sure we could arrange that," he smiled that dazzling smile, "What would you like to know?"

"I don't think I've ever seen you out in the village before, except for when you do your shopping," (Y/N) mused, hoping to learn a little bit more about what he did up in that castle of his.

She watched as he shrugged, still completely unbothered by the weight of her shopping. "I come out every once in a while," he prattled, "But I suppose we never have run into each other until now. What a shame."

Her blood warmed at his final comment. He really must be teasing her, trying to pull those shy reactions from her.

Before she had a chance to say much in response, the rowdy tavern only a few meters ahead burst open with sloppy patrons spilling onto the street. The men were undoubtedly drunk as was apparent in the slurring of their shouts and the stumbling of their feet. Everything was too loud for the quiet of the night, including the calls coming from inside the bar, urging the few that had escaped to come back inside. The night couldn't already be over, it was still early, those beckoning voices said.

Maybe it was the dark of the night, the fact she had never been around anyone drunk enough to slur their words, or the stark sound of it all, but (Y/N) startled at the disturbance. She almost jumped out of her skin, her feet stumbling with her heels digging into the crumbling sidewalk. She could hear a gasp falling from her throat though she couldn't remember making the noise herself.

Before she had time to recover, Harry had swiftly tugged her to his other side. She was now covered by his body with her other side sandwiched with the walls of the other buildings lining the street. From where the drunken men stood, she doubted they would be able to accurately spot her given her new cover.

"Thank you," she murmured, her thrumming heart beginning to slow finally.

When he didn't respond, she looked up to find him shooting daggers towards the men that were being pulled back into the tavern. His sharp jaw was clenched shut with his eyes narrowed in their direction.

"Harry?" she sounded, breaking him from whatever he had running through his head.

He whipped his head to face her once more, blinking with a flutter of curling lashes.

"Yes, sorry," he finally responded, "My apologies, I would have pulled you away sooner had I seen them coming."

"It's alright," she tried to soothe, giving him a small smile, "The shop is just up there, I think I can survive a little while longer."

He cast his gaze over her form for just a beat longer, his shoulder relaxing some by the time he met her eyes again. "I'll make sure of it," Harry teased, cracking a smile at her.

They shared those final paces in silence, (Y/N) feeling rather proud of herself and a bit giddy to have had him at her side for this long, his attention on her. By the time the dark apothecary topped with the small flat came into view, she almost wished they would round the block once more. She still had more she wanted to ask him.

"It has been a pleasure, Ms. (Y/N)," he bowed to her, carefully pulling her shopping baskets from his shoulder and wrist, "I hope I will see you again soon—maybe we'll run into each other like this more often."

"Maybe," she smiled, taking the bags from him, "Thank you for escorting me home, and helping with my baskets."

"It's my pleasure," he repeated once more, the green in his eyes flashing with amusement, "Have a good night."

Inching towards the door, (Y/N) gave him a nod. "Good night, Harry."

A soft lipped smile on his marble-perfect face was the last thing (Y/N) saw before she was stepping inside the apothecary. The bell above the door tinkled, alerting her father who would no doubt still be awake upstairs.

"(Y/N)? Is that you?" he called down the stairs, the creak of his favorite rocking chair sounding as he stood.

"Yes, sorry!" she answered, bracing herself to trek up the steep stairs to the flat with her body weighed down with all of the groceries. "I didn't mean to take so long."

"I don't like you staying out so late after the sun goes down," her father chided her, pulling the bags from her form and taking them towards the tiny kitchen, "There's no telling what could be waiting in the dark."

(Y/N) kept her mouth shut as her father went off on his complaints. She didn't mention Harry once.

—————

Dressed in her favorite nightgown with her hair braided back with the same twine she tied her herbs with, (Y/N) peered once more out her window, finding the same black cat that had been out there since she readied for bed still sitting in the garden.

Her moon-yellow eyes were bright in the dark as she stalked and played with the bugs that threatened the state of (Y/N)'s herb garden. She had never seen the cat before, but she was tempted to convince her father to let her bring the creature inside. She would be a good pet, (Y/N) decided.

Laying back against her pillows, only dim candle light allowing her to see her ceiling, (Y/N) cast her mind back to the hours earlier. Her day had been terribly uneventful, but had ended in heart-fluttering territory.

Though she realized, thinking back to the conversation she had indulged in on her walk home, she never caught why Harry was out so late by himself, anyway.

—————

Grey clouds crowded the sky as (Y/N) carefully stepped over the vining brush at her feet. The hem of her dress snagged once or twice on some of the thorny bushes and the rough bark covering unearthed roots. Acres of towering trees formed a canopy above her head, barely letting any of the limited light through. She had her eyes on the ground as she tried to scope out those few herbs she wasn't able to cultivate at the home garden. The basket at her hip was already teeming with a good handful of different bundles, but she still needed to find some winter savory.

More than once, her mind wandered as she trekked through the trees. It had been a week since she had last seen Harry, and yet he was still the one thing that floated through her mind whenever she drifted to her daydreams. She could still see the line of his profile, backlit by the cloudy moonlight. In her dreams, she had the courage to reach out and trace over the line, grazing the bridge of his nose and the dip of his cupid's bow. He grew more and more gorgeous every time she revisited her memories.

She was already known to have her head in the clouds, dreams too big for the village to contain, but she definitely floated upwards more and more since seeing Harry.

A small smile worked its way onto her lips the longer she wafted through her reverie. (Y/N) liked to think that if she had acted on that impulse—dragging her fingertip along the planes of his features—that he would have cracked a smile, showing off the thumbed dimples and dazzling teeth. Maybe, he would have even looked at her, wrapped an arm around her waist and dragged her to his chest before dipping her in the middle of the street. He could kiss her then, the moment romantic and brazen and—

(Y/N) stopped in her tracks the second she saw the dead body on the forest floor.

If not for the pallor of her skin, she could have assumed this woman had fallen asleep peacefully among the brush. She looked to be around (Y/N)'s age, unbound hair spilling around her head. Her eyes were closed with her features set in a serene scene and arms crossed over her chest. Her palms were pressed flat over her collarbones, the same way those in coffins were laid to rest six feet under. The pose reminded her of her mother.

Though all of that tranquility went to hell when she saw her throat.

While the woman had been laid to rest with utmost respect, that didn't take away from the fact her throat was ripped open. (Y/N) swore her own esophagus grew sore and tight while looking at the women. The skin had been slashed out of the way by something sharp and angry, revealing frayed sinew and torn muscle. The raw red hue stood out starkly against the snowy pallor her skin had taken on. Something had attacked her, taking out her throat and leaving her to die right where she lay.

The most unsettling part, (Y/N) realized the longer she stood there, was that there was no blood. Where she expected to see a crimson crust forming around the wood or a puddle haloing the woman's form, there was nothing. Her wound didn't even look that gruesome, truly. It was clinically clean instead, as if a healer had already cared for her and planned on bandaging the tear before letting her head home. She had been bled completely dry, leaving her with rubbery skin, thin veins, and a clean white dress.

She had heard about these incidences—people going missing only to turn up later dead—but she never pictured it was like this. To her, everything sounded as if wanderers were attacked in the woods are lost through the elements. Never once through her forages in the area had she ever met the face of someone whose life was taken so decidedly.

(Y/N) wanted to scream, she wanted to cry and panic and run. But, she just stood there.

Time was stuck as she saw the woman with long red hair, unblemished skin, and a fine gown.

All at once, the severity of the situation flooded back to her.

Her sore throat was split open with a loud scream, blood-curdling and eye-watering. She dropped her basket to the floor, returning the herbs to where she had plucked them, before she sprinted towards home. Her dress caught on the thorns of the brush, her feet stumbling over the unearthed roots. None of the obstacles slowed her. She tugged her dress free with every pump of her legs, keeping herself steady with nothing other than the will of adrenaline and fear pushing he along.

She didn't realize she had been crying until she saw the edge of the village in sight, her cheeks burning with her hands going numb. A man she recognized as one of her father's friends was out in his garden, cultivating the family vegetables when he looked up to see her, concern striking his features.

"(Y/N)," the man called out, his voice echoing over the space.

Stumbling in her tracks, she fought to keep herself steady. Instinctively, she wanted to keep running until she made it back to her bedroom with her safety intact. She knew she couldn't do that, though. She had to tell someone about the woman, find her family and lay her to rest properly.

Find who had hurt her.

"Th-There—She's—Dead," (Y/N) panted, floundering around her jumbled mind. She couldn't find a single coherent thought in her head.

The man's thick brows only furrowed as he cautiously approached her. "Dead?" he pressed, making himself appear smaller as if she were the creature to be cowering from for survival.

Hearing someone else say the word had another round of sobs wracking through her body. "Sh—The girl—She's dead. In the woods, there's been another."

Horror took the man's features. Blood drained from his face, leaving him shades paler than just moments before.

"Another?" he asked, "Like the others?"

"I-I think so," she stuttered, moments away from crumbling to the ground. She couldn't be sure if the state this young woman had been in was what the rest of the others had gone through. She hope it wasn't.

A curse was uttered under his breath before he shouted towards his home. He called for his wife, a woman (Y/N) vaguely knew from church. It only took a moment for a woman to stick her head out of the doorway, her features screwing up in worry the second she saw (Y/N)'s blubbering form.

She was only vaguely aware of the man explaining to his wife what (Y/N) had shared, and that he was going to get the others together to recover the body and care for her. His wife needed to take care of her, inform her father of what (Y/N) had seen today.

Time moved impossibly slow while racing through each second simultaneously. At some point, she checked out, shock setting in as she came to terms with everything she had seen. By the time she returned, she had been deposited on the stoop of the church, a knitted blanket around her shoulders. Shivers wracked down her spine though she could feel herself breaking into a thin sweat. Many of the women of the village had swarmed around her, including Mary and Ethel. Feet away, her father was speaking with the vicar of the church.

"Drink this, dear," Mary said, shoving a warm mug of something in her hands.

(Y/N) made no move to follow her given directly, loosely gripping the cup in her palms. Her gaze was barely focused, tears still running down her cheeks, as she absently stared at the cobblestone under her boots.

Every time she blinked, she saw the bloodless wound on the woman. Her thin, lavender eyelids masking unseeing eyes. Her thin fingers, the pale skin barely covering the bones underneath. The sections of her neck that were frayed and ripped, matching that of the hem of her dress.

Murmurs arose once more around her. (Y/N) had no doubt there was already speculation about who could have done this—who would have killed someone in such a way that an onlooker end up as traumatized as the dead. A part of her brain pinged, knowing that Mary and Ethel would no doubt be peering accusingly at the castle in the distance, their accusations known without a single word leaving their lips.

Now more than ever, having seen a body, (Y/N) had no doubt that Harry had nothing to do with these disappearances.

No human could do what she saw in the woods.

—————

"Let me grab my coat, and John and I will escort you back home."

(Y/N) did her best to school her features, regulate her reaction before reaching a gentle hand on Margret's shoulder to keep her from ascending the stairs.

"Oh, no," (Y/N) declined, canting her head with a soft smile, "You've already been too kind tonight. I can make it on my own—home's barely a block away."

Margret chewed her lip between her teeth, looking over her shoulder to where her parents were standing by the hearth. So many eyes were on them and their interaction.

"Really, Marg," (Y/N) tried again, "My father and I appreciate everyone's kindness enough, I would hate to put you out even more and make you go out in a storm like this."

"But," Margret started, "I don't want to leave you alone. The storm is bad enough without everything that... happened."

Almost two weeks had passed since (Y/N)'s run-in in the woods, and yet the village's paranoia was at an all-time high. Her father had been at her side near constant since he had finished speaking with the vicar, promising her that he wouldn't let that happen again—finding something so gruesome, as well as a silent promise that she wouldn't become the gruesome sight. He had been shaken by her reaction, telling the vicar that he had never seen her so vulnerable, on the edge of hysterics.

Any herb they couldn't grow in the garden would now be out of stock until he himself could forage through the woods, but she would never be tasked with going by herself. Otherwise, he was going to be at her side as often as he could be, ensuring she was never alone. If he couldn't be there, then he had pooled together a batch of close family friends who would be willing to stand in for him. She would never be by herself, never vulnerable to another fright.

(Y/N) was losing her mind.

Everyone walked on eggshells around her, having seen her breakdown in real time. They heeded her father's request as if law, never allowing her even a second of alone time if not in the safety of her bedroom. Even her time in the garden had been reduced to a field trip for every young woman who was tasked to be at her side, chattering about the most lighthearted of subjects.

While in a few ways, (Y/N) couldn't blame her father, she selfishly didn't really care. She needed her freedom, even if that freedom came in the form of a short walk to her home by herself.

"I promise I will be alright," (Y/N) tried to soothe her friend, offering her beaming smile to Margret's parents and brother as well. "Thank you all for dinner, please don't let me add to the burden by making you all escort me home in a storm. I would never forgive myself if any of you fell ill."

It was Margret's mother that seemed to waver from (Y/N)'s reasoning. She most likely didn't want her children out in the rain, either. (Y/N) wasn't the only one in the village that needed to be protected from whatever lived in the woods.

Peering over her shoulder, Margret searched for her parents blessing that came in the form of a small dip of her father's chin.

"I will come visit you in the morning, then," Margret cemented, "to make sure you're alright."

"I look forward to it," (Y/N) chirped, bringing her friend in for a small hug before inching towards the front door. She gave her beaming smile to the rest of the family. "Thank you again," she said, "Dinner was wonderful. I'll have to steal the recipe sometime, Mrs. Wayfield."

"I'll send it with Margret in the morning, dear," she said, her smile tight, "Get home safe. Don't linger longer than you have to."

"Absolutely," (Y/N) promised, pulling the hood of her purple cloak over her head.

Final goodbyes were shared before (Y/N) stepped outside, the raging storm that had been rattling the roof of the home now whipping against her form.

As much as the wind stung her eyes and the rain chilled her skin, she reveled in the experience. She was alone, finally.

Despite what Mrs. Wayfield said, she definitely lingered longer than she needed to, allowing the rain to soak her cloak and begin to seep through her dress. She had never been one to steep in the rain or bask in storms, but that was going to be changing tonight.

The direct walk home was decidedly short, taking less than a block's worth of steps to take her there, but she was going to make it as long as possible. She might even take the scenic route, stepping through the center of town for no reason at all other than she wanted to.

Heavy droplets of rain weighed down her cloak the longer she took outside, the wind whipping the hem around her in waves. Taking her time, she ambled over the cobblestones of the town square, ignoring the drops that slipped over her warm cheeks.

Suddenly, the storm changed once she reached the center of town.

Before, it had been nothing but rain and wind, the kind of storm that would put her to sleep in a matter of minutes. Something shifted in a matter of moments, taking the wind and amping it up into swirling chills. A crack of lightning lit up the sky, making shadowy ghosts of all the buildings and turning the trees into bony hands reaching towards the heavens. Thunder rattled the Earth a moment later. The large drops of rain quickly became a heavy downpour, slicking down her form until her clothing was stuck to her body and her eyes were struggling to blink through the droplets. Every time she peeked through slitted eyes, the sheets slammed down thick enough she could barely see through it.

The scenic route no longer seemed fun now that she was out here. She should have just gone home like she promised.

(Y/N) had to step carefully over the cobblestones, not trusting the grip of her boots over the cracks. She wished she could sprint though the barrage, but she would no doubt lose her footing and smash her face into the rocky ground if she did.

Instead, she kept her head down and tried to navigate back home through the rain, lacking sight. She kept her pace as steady as possible, giving all her focus to the task of making it home, though she was vaguely aware of a familiar panic growing in her chest.

As much as she had wanted to be alone, take time by herself and live in the village without her father's word being law, she still saw the gruesome body every time she closed her eyes. (Y/N) had nightmares of that moment she had come across the young woman, though this time she blinked her eyes open when (Y/N) grew close enough before snatching at her foot. A shaky breath expanded (Y/N)'s lungs at the childish fear that something could even be following behind her at the moment. She would have no idea if there was; every sound was drowned out by the pouring rain, her sight impaired by the water running over her eyes and the heavy sheets acting like a fog over the village.

Unable to resist the urge, (Y/N) whipped her head around, trying to catch the monster in the act of following her. Unsurprisingly, no one was there.

She was alone, just as she had wished.

Spinning around, the village was completely vacant. No one knew she was out here. No one would even know if she had been snatched like that young woman. Not until she was found again.

That flare of panic in her chest rose again, clogging her throat and thickening her head.

She needed to get out of here. Being alone wasn't worth this. She should have just taken up Margret and John on their offer and gone straight to her room. She could have found her alone time on another day.

Picking the first direction in front of her, (Y/N) stormed through. This had to take her home, right? She had lived in this flat almost all of her life, she wouldn't forget where it was.

Until, of course, (Y/N) noticed she had taken the complete wrong direction, heading towards the opposite end of the village. A strike of lightning lit up the grey sky, showing off the vague shadow of the towering castle in the distance.

The Count's home. She had to turn around; she was no where close to the apothecary.

This time, when (Y/N) spun around, trying to find a direction to head through her woolen throat and mounting panic, she couldn't decide. What if she went the wrong way again? What if she ended up back in the town center?

What if she died out here?

The morbid turn of her thoughts took her breath away.

She was stunned in place, unable to make any move in any direction.

Suddenly, a hand settled on her shoulder, stilling her shaking form.

"(Y/N)? What are you doing out here?"

(Y/N) stumbled, turning around to face to familiar voice speaking right behind her.

There, backlit by another round of lightning and thunder, was Harry.

His hair was almost black under the rain, near soaked despite having barely been out in the elements for longer than a few moments. His velvet jacket grew darker with every drop absorbed into the thick fabric. He pale skin was a beacon in the gloom.

"H-Harry?"

"You can't stay out here, (Y/N). You're going to fall ill, or worse," he told her, concern dripping from his tone the same way the rain clumped through the length of her lashes.

When she gave her body permission to do so, she wasn't sure, but in a heartbeat she was clinging to his form. He was her safety in the middle of his storm, keeping her from falling victim to the most morbid of her thoughts. It was beyond improper, but she didn't care as she dug her fingers into his waistcoat. He couldn't leave her here.

"I-I was trying to go home," she whined, her voice fragile under the weight of everything. "I think I'm l-lost."

She felt pathetic to utter something so silly given she knew this town like the back of her hand, but it was a truth.

Harry lingered in front of her for a moment, seemingly assessing her before he sprung into action.

"That's alright," he murmured, speaking as if she were an injured animal, "Let me take you home. I think I remember the way. Is that okay? I have my carriage over there."

He pointed behind himself, where another slice of lightning revealed a black, boxy carriage led by regal white horses. She could see the vague form of someone sitting in the coach box.

When she didn't immediately answer, he wrapped a tentative arm around her form. "Let me get you home, (Y/N)."

She gave an absent nod, willing to let him take her anywhere—anything was better than this, she decided. He bundled her against him as he took her to the side of the carriage, sacrificing an arm holding her middle to open the door. He helped heave her inside, getting her in as quickly as possible.

"Thank you," she peeped when she settled on the bench seat. She kept her eyes on him as he waited a moment, relaying to the driver the new destination.

Her body shook with unstoppable tremors as Harry climbed in after her, her soaked clothing ruining the red velvet under her. She would have to apologize to him later.

It was here, in the dry of his carriage, that (Y/N) realized she was sobbing with rivers of hot tears pouring down her cheeks. It wasn't just the chill of the rain that had her feeling as if she couldn't breathe, she realized. In the safety of the cover, wracking sobs kept her from properly filling her lungs, her inhales way too short to be safe.

The carriage spun around her despite the way (Y/N) tried to focus on her hands on her lap. This wasn't good, she knew.

"(Y/N)," she heard, the voice firm and commanding, "Look at me, darling."

Absently, she pulled her head up to face Harry.

He was inches away from her. (Y/N) could make out the the shattered shards of green around his black pupils. The strong line of his nose and pillow lips were right there.

Harry was dazzling. Breathtaking.

Unfortunately, breathtaking was the last thing she needed right then.

Before she knew any better, (Y/N)'s lashes fluttered as her eyes fell closed on their own accord, her breathing stunted in her lungs. The last thing she was aware of was Harry's panicked call of her name before she spilled over the velvet seat as she lost consciousness.

—————

When (Y/N) finally cracked her eyes open, her limbs felt impossibly heavy as if she had rocks tied to each end as she sunk to the bottom of the ocean. Her bleary sight took it's time clearing, allowing heartbeats to pass before the blurry streaks around her came into focus.

She was in an immaculate bedroom, she realized. Her body was cushioned by luxurious velvet, dyed a deep crimson. The mattress underneath was plush and inviting, urging her to sink deeper and deeper into the dreamy bedding and warmth it offered. A length of fur ran across the end of the bed, tickling her bare ankles as she stretched.

Sitting up where she had been nestled atop the bed, more and more of her head came to her. The bed was even more opulent that she thought. Four posters shot up from around the frame, holding curtains made of delicate black lace. Her hands ached just looking at it, thinking about how long it would take to make something so beautiful, even with the help of one of those sewing machines. More furs and velvet decorated the large space; everything honing in on the darker spectrum of colors. Here and there, pops of gold thread appeared like minute rays of sunlight. At the bedside was a bouquet of cut flowers, all in rich violet hues and smelling sweet enough to draw her in like a butterfly. And she almost did, sticking her nose into the tall stalk of trumpet shaped flowers until she realized what kind they were and jerked back.

Foxglove, she recognized them to be. Poisonous.

Around the stalk were wisteria blooms and plumes of baby's breath. The wisteria was another set of flowers that were gorgeous to look at, but deadly in the end.

Pulling away with a stiff back, she set her bare feet on the ground. Now that she was free from the flowers, the woody scent of winter savory and spike of tobacco in the background were the prominent aromas taking her attention. Looking around her, her cloak was dry, laid on the end of her borrowed bed alone with her boots set up in a neat row by her feet.

This place was extravagant. A fairytale daydream, perfect for her head-in-the-clouds mindset.

This had to be a castle. No random hut could have something this indulgent.

There was only one castle she knew of.

Memories came back to (Y/N) in pieces.

The storm. She had left the Wayfields' home, telling them she would head straight home despite knowing she was lying. She had wanted some time alone, away from her father's overprotective gaze. But the storm was too much. She had pathetically lost her way and panicked, remembering the woman she had found in the woods.

Then, there was the gleaming black carriage. The ghostly pale face of the Count who offered to take her home, get her out of the rain and into safety before he would be on his way. She remembered him helping her into the carriage, telling the coachman that they needed to drop her back at the apothecary. Her emotions had fluctuated to opposite ends of the spectrum: extreme panic under the sheets of rain to the deep relief she felt at seeing a familiar face who could help her.

The last few things she could remember was the guilt she felt at ruining the luxe seating in the Count's carriage before looking up to see him facing her directly with his breathtaking features. That was all that had been left before she tumbled back and lost consciousness.

This was no doubt the Count's home. There had been times she had wondered what kind of interior a building as magnificent as this one would have, but she had never thought of something this indulgent.

Though, despite her admirations, she couldn't stay here.

She was never supposed to take even the long walk home, let alone travel all the way to the gargantuan home that the most notorious member of the village resided in. (Naming him as a member of their village was a stretch, but the easiest way for (Y/N) to think at the moment). There was no telling how long she had been out, but her father was going to kill her even if it was ten seconds.

Despite the ache in her bones and the stiff fabric of her ill dried dress, she forced her boots back on, the laces pulled into clumsy bows. Her cloak was grabbed in a haste before she started towards the door. She didn't know what she was going to do, but she needed to get back home as soon as she could.

Swinging open the heavy door, (Y/N) swayed on her feet, stopping in her tracks when she saw who was on the other side.

Propped against the opposing wall, between more cut flowers and immaculate paintings, was the Count himself.

He was at attention within a second, but (Y/N) had caught the way he had been slumped against the wall, his shoulders a sullen slope. In an instant, he had crossed the grand hall to meet her at her door, his hands reaching out towards her. His eyes looked darker than ever, only light shatters of deep green apparent in his iris. His usually flawless hair was left in disarray. Somewhere, he had shed his coat and cravat, leaving the billowed sleeves of his shirt and grey waistcoat the only articles on his torso. Even the neckline of his white shirt had been left loose, a stretch of creamy skin on display.

"Are you okay?" he breathed out, his gaze immediately tripping down her form before she had a chance to answer, "I-I tried to make sure you hadn't injured your head, or-or worse when you fell faint, but I couldn't be positive."

Her lashes fluttered in a blink as she startled over his concern. She had never seen him so discomposed, his demeanor world's away from calm.

"I-I'm alright," she breathed, finding her tongue in her dry mouth, "You brought me to your home?" She could vaguely remember him ordering the coachman to take her home, back to the flat above the apothecary.

He wet his lips, his eyes searching through hers as he collected his words. "When you fell faint," he started, "I was not sure if you would have been alone if I took you home. I was worried; I decided to take you back here, so I could keep an eye on you. That's all, I swear it."

She was sure he knew just as well as she that being alone like this—unchaperoned, neither of them dressed as they typically should be, no one aware of her whereabouts—was more inappropriate than a single moonlight stroll through town. This could ruin both of them if anyone found out; (Y/N) would be deemed unbecoming for marriage, and the small amount of reputation Harry had would be buried six feet under.

Throughout all, (Y/N) still found her skin warming, seeing how genuinely he spoke of her and his worry of her well-being. Other than her cloak and boots, she could tell none of her clothing had been tampered with. He had done nothing more than keep an eye on her.

"Thank you," she swallowed, nodding her head as she allowed a small smile to curl her lips. She felt a bit desperate then, hoping he knew how deep her gratitude went. "Truly, thank you. I-I don't know what happened to me, it was scary."

"I'm sure it was," he murmured, the tight set to his features loosening the longer she stood in one piece before him. "I am glad I found you when I did."

"How long has it been?" she asked, noticing not a single window that could give away the time of day. She wasn't even sure if it was still night time.

He deflated some at her words. "A few hours, I think" he shared, dropping his gaze as if realizing just now how long he had been her self-appointed guardian, "The storm finally ended not too long ago. You were exhausted, (Y/N)."

She had never heard her name wrapped in his voice before. Looking at him now, she was back in that carriage with her lungs stunted and mind only on him. She swore she could see his eyes lightening before her gaze, more and more green coming to the surface like a murky pond under sunlight. The panicked urge she had to race home slowly melted out of her.

"I'm not surprised," she agreed, finally breaking her gaze from his for no other reason than to allow her breath to come back. She cast her eyes around the opulent space, taking in the priceless art around her, the glossy flooring and detailed decor. "This is your home?"

"For as long as I can remember," he smiled, pride straightening his shoulders as he followed her line of sight, "It's my sanctuary. If you'd like, I can have the kitchen make something for you and I can give you a tour of the grounds in the meantime."

Instantly, she wanted to accept. She wanted to see what kind of creations a place like this could make in the kitchen. She wanted to know where he had found such gorgeous, but deadly plantlife. She wanted to know if any of her daydreams had been right about this place.

Unfortunately, there was that niggling worry that popped back up in the back of her mind.

"As much as I would love to, I can't," she reluctantly let out, "I have to go home. My father... he's probably rallying the village as we speak, trying to find me before he loses his mind."

Harry's expression fell, losing that pride over her praise. Nonetheless, he gave her a relenting nod. "I understand," he said, cracking a small smile, "I have had you hidden away for long enough, I suppose. I'll have my staff ready my carriage, and I'll have you home by dawn."

"Thank you," she said earnestly once more, "Really, Harry. I fear where I would be if you hadn't come across me."

"I do as well," he shared, his voice low as if sharing a secret with her.

This time, (Y/N) didn't wipe the smile from her lips as she looked up at him. Another shade of green seemingly appeared in his gaze.

—————

"You're not coming with me?" (Y/N) asked, poking her head out of the door of the coach when Harry didn't immediately follow after her. The first rays of sunlight were beginning to crest the horizon, giving away just how long she had been far from home, though that didn't stop her from stalling.

"Unfortunately," he said, keeping his feet planted on the ground outside the carriage. He looked up at her from where he stood, holding the door open as he spoke to her. "I have business to attend to very soon; I wouldn't have time to arrange everything if I escorted you this morning. I hope you'll accept my apologies, anyway."

Though she was disappointed she would lose out on time with him, she couldn't blame him. He must be a busy man if he had this place to call home and a full staff to take care of it. He didn't have time to chauffeur her around the village, even if that was what she wanted. He didn't even have a chance to tell her where he had found the flowers for his bouquets.

"I suppose I'll forgive you this time," she said, a sly smile on her lips that had Harry's own lips blooming, "But next time, I won't be so lenient."

"I appreciate your grace, my lady," he played along, offering her that dazzling smile and dimpled cheeks. "I promise to see you soon. I feel like I'll need to visit the apothecary sooner rather than later."

(Y/N) could take that promise. "I will make sure we stay stocked, then."

"Until next time," Harry said, inching away from the carriage with reluctant steps deeper into the shadows.

"Until next time."

With that, Harry closed the door to the coach, relaying the destination to the driver.

With her hands in her lap and heart bubbling in her chest, (Y/N) allowed her cheeks to split with her smile. Definitely better than any kind of daydream her cloudy head had come up with.

—————

As soon as she approached the church, (Y/N) was grateful for the instructions she had given to the coachmen to drop her at the edge of the village, leaving her to be the only one who had seen the carriage at all. As she had suspected, her father really had rallied every able body in the town. She could only imagine she had caught them right before they started combing the woods and terrorizing the neighboring villages until they found her.

It was Margret who had seen her first, breaking down into tears with a bursting sob before she was running towards (Y/N).

"Where have you been?!" she screamed, collapsing around (Y/N) in a steely hug, "I—We—Everyone thought you were—"

Margret didn't have to finish her words for (Y/N) to know what had been on the village's mind.

Before she had a chance to do anything more than reciprocate the hug and draw a breath, her father was barreling over. "(Y/N)!" he shouted, a mix of relief and anger tinting his tone. She doubted he even knew how to feel in that moment.

"I'm sorry, Margret," (Y/N) muttered, offering a consoling smile before pulling away from her hug. The Wayfields stepped forward to collect their daughter while (Y/N) went towards her father, already dreading the lecture she would receive. "Father, I—"

The air was stolen from her lungs the second he scooped her into a tight hug. "My daughter," he murmured into her hair, nestling her against his chest, "I thought the worst."

"I'm sorry," she whispered, aware of the eyes watching their embrace.

"What happened?" he asked, pulling away to face her with watery eyes and warm cheeks, "Why didn't you stay with Margret and her family? They said you went through the storm alone, promising to come back home."

(Y/N) felt immense floods of guilt bubble through her system. This wasn't the welcome home she had thought she'd garner.

"I hadn't meant to frighten anyone," she started, hoping the rest of the village overheard, "I only wanted a minute alone, but I was planning on coming home right away. But, the storm was so heavy, and I scared myself. I was disoriented and ended up a village over. I stayed in their church for the night, until it was safe to come home."

The lie slipped off her tongue like water, the story planned from her time in the carriage. Her guilt only worsened knowing she was deceiving her father, but she didn't want anyone to know where she had spent the night. Despite the impropriety of the whole thing situation Harry, she didn't want Mary and Ethel chattering to her father that the Count was trying to steal away his daughter and flay her before dropping her in the forest.

She didn't want Harry to be dragged into this.

His features tightened at her words, but she could see as he ultimately accepted them. "Okay," he relented before flexing his arms around her in a pulsing hug, "Never again, (Y/N). Do you hear me?"

"I hear you," she promised, holding him back just as tightly.

Over his shoulder, she could see the gleaming of a black carriage ascending the trail towards the large castle in the distance.

—————

oleander, if consumed, can slow the heart and cause death within hours.

ahhhhhh! super super super different for myself ngl! I changed a couple of ideas I had just bc I started scaring myself but thank you so much for reading! im so happy im finally putting out a halloween fic! so sorry for any mistakes and if theres any ideas or thoughts please send them in!

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thesithdiaries · 2 years

Text

Forbidden (Jacaerys Velaryon imagine)

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x female Targaryen!reader

Requested: yes, its also a combo of three requests

Warnings: incest obvi, mention of hair but its just during a cute part, allusions to do doing the deed before marriage, wrap it up folks cause we dont have the plan b tea, angst, parental abuse, viserys is fine in this, aemond being like his mother and minding everything but his business, ✨pregnancy and teen marriage✨, spoilers for the show

“We have to be quiet,” Jace whispered, holding Y/N’s hand as they walked by the gates. He had been carrying a bag with him as well.

They had to sneak around to be together. They always had. As far as the family knows, Jace and Y/N had not seen each other in six years, since the incident at Lady Laena’s funeral, but that is far from the truth. They would meet at Duskendale, often flying there with their dragons when they were old enough to do so. Before that, they would exchange many letters by raven.

Since they were young, they gravitated toward each other. Rhaenyra never minded this, she was quite fond of Y/N and knew she was not like the rest of her family. However, Alicent did mind. She hated how her daughter would associate with them, often making snide comments about it. Aegon did not even care and Helaena thought their friendship was sweet but Aemond despised the idea of it.

He was a possessive man when it came to his sisters. Deep down, he knew his behavior was not the best yet it did not make him stop. Y/N did not like having her brother make decisions for her or treat her as if she was fragile. For this, they both decided that they had to sneak around to avoid him altogether.

Aemond would monitor everything his sister did when they were children. It did not matter if she was with the Septa, or in the dragonpit, or even eating, he wanted to know. The first time he saw her playing in the gardens with Jace and Luke, he thought nothing of it. His feelings on the matter changed when he saw that she started spending more time with them every day.

The night he lost his eye, Aemond was comforted by Y/N. She was even willing to learn what the maester did to help him. He was grateful, because she was calm and sweet to him, unlike his mother, who was hysterical at the fact that he was maimed. They grew even closer in the following years. Aemond vowed to become a warrior, so he could protect his family, especially Y/N, as a repayment for all the times she helped him when he was in need.

“Where are we going?” She asked through quiet giggles. Jace smirked.

“Out.” Y/N gave him a confused look. It was late, where could they possibly go at this hour?

By this moment, they were almost at the dragonpit, the rush of excitement running through their veins. Vermax was outside, waiting for them. The dragonkeeper, Endric, was leaning against the wall smiling at them. Y/N had wondered what Jace had said to him to even make him agree to do this.

“Jace?” Y/N whispered as he began climbing on Vermax.

“Come on, Y/N,” he called for her, extending his hand so she would follow him. She was unsure, they had never done this before, especially at night. It took her a few seconds to decide she wanted to take the risk.

They arrived at a small but beautiful meadow far from the castle. Jace helped her climb off Vermax, who went to hide behind the treeline to rest. Y/N was delighted at the sight. The soft glow of the moon gave it a nice feel.

She was so entranced that she did not notice Jace had set up a blanket for them. “Come on, Y/N,” he playfully called for her as he sat down.

“Is there a special occasion I do not know about?” She wondered, sitting next to him. He chuckled, shaking his head.

“Do I need a special occasion to take you somewhere nice?” Jace said, grabbing her hand and kissing it.

“No,” Y/N said, “you can take me somewhere nice whenever you want.” Jace hummed, too lost in his thoughts as he stared at her.

Jace always had a crush on Y/N. She was sweet and fun to be around. Rhaenyra encouraged him to seek a friendship with her, knowing they got along well. At one point, they did everything together and knew everything about each other. The king was delighted. He loved that they got along.

Y/N rested her head on his shoulder. “Mother found me a suitor.”

“What?” Jace asked, with a clear surprise on his face. “I thought she said you could choose.”

“She lied,” Y/N noted. “She said I would bring shame to her if I picked the wrong suitor.”

Jace rolled his eyes. “It does not make any sense to me.”

They sat there in silence, not wanting to talk about it anymore. Jace was mindlessly playing with her hand and the rings she wore while Y/N rested. It felt peaceful, being alone in the meadow.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered, carefully brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. Y/N’s face flushed.

“Jace,” Y/N breathed.

She cupped his cheek and then she pressed her lips against his as Jace felt his breath hitch. He grabbed her lower back, quickly getting her under him, and then he kissed her harder. She ran her fingers through his dark hair as the kiss deepened. She pulled back momentarily just to catch her breath. Jace’s gaze intensified as Y/N bit her bottom lip, softly caressing his cheek.

"Make love to me, Jacaerys.”

Jace growled in his throat as he crashed her lips onto hers, working to remove the dress she was wearing. There was no turning back this time.

They arrived back in the Red Keep right before dawn, sharing a quick kiss as a goodbye before parting to go to their respective apartments. Nobody seemed to notice they were gone, and if someone did notice, they had not said anything.

It was an eventful day in the castle, Jace and Y/N could not sneak off at all. Vaemond Velaryon wanted the Driftmark throne but King Viserys reaffirmed it was Lucerys’ birthright. Vaemond also committed treason by insulting Rhaenyra and her children, causing Daemon to slice his head off in front of everyone.

During the feast, Aemond had Y/N sitting next to him. He had a weird feeling about her, eyeing her the entire night. The suspicions he did not know he had were confirmed when Jace asked Y/N to dance. Aemond was clenching his jaw as he saw his sister dance with him. Y/N was having fun with Jace, everybody could see that. Aegon sent him a look, subtly shaking his head.

Aemond stood up after hitting the table. Jace stood in front of Y/N, just in case. “Final tribute. To the health of my nephews: Jace... Luke... and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise... hm... strong. Come... let us drain our cups to these three... Strong boys.”

“I dare you to say that again,” Jace threatened him. Y/N’s eyes widened as she grabbed his forearm, only to be shaken off.

“Why? 'Twas only a compliment. Do you not think yourself Strong?” Jace punched him, causing Aemond to push him back onto the ground. Y/N was staring at her brother in disbelief as the knights held Jace, Luke, and Baela back.

When Rhaenyra told her children to go to their quarters, Y/N left as well, but not before giving her brother a disapproving look. Aemond followed her and held the door of her chambers before she could slam it shut. “Y/N,” he warned.

“Go away, Aemond,” Y/N rolled her eyes.

“I only complimented them. It is not my fault they felt offended,” he pointed out. His sister stared at him with annoyance.

“Get out, Aemond, now. I will not ask you again,” Y/N threatened him. He scoffed, leaving.

Y/N sat on her bed, thinking about Jace. She wanted to defend him during the dinner, to stand up to her brother but she knew that would cause more problems, not stop them. After debating on what to do, she sneaked out of her chambers and ran to Jace’s apartments on the other side of the Red Keep.

Y/N softly knocked on the door, looking at both sides to make sure nobody was following her. Jace opened the door seconds later, both relieved and shocked that it was her. He pulled her inside, closing the door behind her. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you,” Y/N confessed, wrapping her arms around his neck in a hug. “I am so sorry about everything, I wanted to help you but I didn't know how.”

Jace immediately wrapped his arms around her waist. “I know, don’t worry about it,” he assured her.

They stood there, holding each other, not wanting to let go. “I love you, Jace,” Y/N told him.

Jace smiled against her neck, “I love you, too.”

They slept together that night, knowing that it will probably be the last time they would share a bed for a long time.

Three months later

Rhaenyra and her family departed King’s Landing the day after the fight. Y/N and Jace were still meeting in the meadow. The intimacy between them reached new limits as they discovered more about each other’s bodies.

Y/N was just about to fall asleep when she felt something heavy landing on her. She opened her eyes to find her mother standing there, with a look of disappointment and disgust. It was her sheets. “You have not bled.”

That was enough to pull Y/N away from the sleepy feeling. Her blood ran cold as she sat up, the realization of her actions finally dawning on her. “I… I had not noticed,” Y/N admitted shamefully.

Alicent stalked towards her, roughly grabbing her chin. “Who did you fuck?”

“Mother, I-” Y/N whined when she felt the grip getting tighter. “I will not tell you.”

Her mother’s eyes widened as she did not hesitate to hit her daughter multiple times. Y/N started yelling at her, trying to push her away to no avail. Ser Criston and Ser Erryk ran into the quarters, pulling the queen away from the princess.

Criston took her away as she kept yelling obscenities at Y/N, while Erryk looked over at the injuries. It was not too bad, she would have some bruises but the bloody nose and split lip made it look worse than it was. “I will get the maester, princess.”

He quickly walked out just as Aemond entered. The expression of confusion he had turned into anger as he saw his sister. “Y/N! What happened? Who did this?”

“It was mother,” Y/N told him. She stood up from her bed, marching to her dresser to see her reflection in the looking glass.

“Why?” Aemond demanded to know. “Why would she hit you this way?”

Y/N fidgeted, turning around to face him. “She has insinuated that I am with child.”

Aemond stood there, trying to find a hint that she was joking yet he found none. Y/N stared at him defiantly, as if she was waiting for him to raise his hand as well. “Who-”

“I will not tell you. It is my business to deal with.” He was about to argue when Maester Gerardys walked in, quickly rushing over to tend to her. Y/N pointed at the door, silently telling Aemond to leave.

“Your Grace, Princess Y/N would like to speak with you,” Ser Harrold said, opening the door to Viserys’ chambers.

“Yes, let her in,” he replied with a smile, which disappeared when he saw the state his daughter was in. Y/N had a bruise on her cheek, along with some scratches. “My love, who did this to you? I will have their head.”

Y/N sat down on the chair, looking up at her father. “It was mother… she discovered something I did.”

Viserys was confused as he grabbed his daughter’s hand. “What did you do? Surely it did not warrant such reaction from her.”

“Father, I- Y/N cleared her throat. “I have sinned.”

He stared at her with evident confusion. Slowly, as he gave it more thought, he realized what she had done. “Y/N,” he sighed.

“I know, father. I have brought shame to mother, you, and our house.”

“Who was it?” Viserys questioned.

“Jace,” Y/N whispered.

Viserys sat down next to her, the shock dawning on him. “I will write to Rhaenyra about this. You will marry Jacaerys and live with him in Dragonstone.”

“What?” Y/N had thought she would be married off to another lord or locked in a tower forever. “You are not angry?”

Her father sighed again, “no, sweet girl. I am not as mad as I should be. I am glad you trusted me enough to come tell me.”

Rhaenyra and Daemon sat in the great hall, reading the letter they received from the king again and again.

Dear Rhaenyra,

I must confess I never thought I would send this type of letter to you. Something has happened between Jacaerys and Y/N, which has resulted in a child. For this reason, I have decided they will wed before the next full moon.

We will sail to Dragonstone immediately to discuss this with you and Daemon.

Viserys

Daemon could not help but chuckle. Rhaenyra gave him an amused look. “Care to share what is so funny?”

“It seems Jace and Y/N had been following in our footsteps without us realizing it.”

Rhaenyra chuckled as well, he was right. “I will go speak to him.”

She kissed him and walked to the training yard, where Jace and Luke were training, or messing around.

“Can you come here, Jace?” Rhaenyra called out. Jace excused himself and went up to her. She grabbed his hand, moving him to a more private area.

“What is it?” Jace questioned, worried.

Rhaenyra handed him the note. Jace read it, the color draining from his skin as he stared at her in shock. A child. Marriage. “How long have you two been together?”

“Since I was old enough to go riding on Vermax,” Jace confessed. Rhaenyra gave him an amused look.

“That's why you have been sneaking out so much,” she noted.

Jace’s eyes widened. “You knew?”

“Vermax is not the quietest dragon,” Rhaenyra reminded him. “And you disappeared for hours.”

“Are you angry with me?” He asked.

“No,” Rhaenyra admitted. “I did contemplate marrying you to her when I noticed how much you cared for each other but I knew Alicent was not going to agree.” Jace nodded in understanding. “Go tell your siblings, I am sure Luke is about to run here and ask what is going on.”

Rhaenyra caressed his cheek softly before leaving. Jace was feeling many emotions at once. He could only hope Y/N was doing well with the news. Despite how nervous he was, Jace was beaming. He was going to be a father.

By the following week, the Targaryens made their way to Dragonstone. Y/N was beaming with happiness, she was finally going to be with the man she truly loved. On the other side of the ship, Aemond was fuming. He hated it, the fact that Y/N had compromised herself in such a way by a bastard.

Once they were on dry land, Y/N walked ahead of them, getting more excited as she reached the top. The rest of her family walked at a normal pace, Viserys and Helaena being the happiest of them. Alicent and Aemond were drowning in their misery.

“Y/N!” Jace called out for her as they reached the main doors. She embraced him tightly, missing the warm feeling of being in his arms.

Rhaenyra and Daemon were happily watching the couple in front of them. They could not help but laugh at how history was repeating itself. Rhaenyra thought her son would be more traditional in the matter but she supported him.

While Viserys and Rhaenyra discussed wedding plans, Jace and Y/N sat together in the gardens. He had his back resting against a tree while Y/N sat between his legs, resting her back against his chest. Jace’s hands softly caressed her small bump.

“How have you been feeling?” He asked her.

“The sickness in the morning has been terrible,” Y/N confessed, “but the maester has been helping me with tea.”

Jace hummed. “Have you been in any pain?”

“No, fortunately not.” Y/N moved her head a little to look up at him.

He smiled at her, “I am glad you are here with me. When I read that note, all I wanted was to go find you.”

Aemond stared from a distance as the happy couple spoke and cuddled each other. He was feeling angrier than before, seeing his sister with him. He knew there was something between them, he always got the feeling but no matter how hard he tried, he never caught them together. All Aemond wanted was to eliminate Jace, however, he knew he would not leave Dragonstone alive if he killed him.

Months later

Jace cuddled his newborn son, Aelor, while Y/N rested. Her pregnancy was not the easiest, the Maester had ordered bedrest until the babe was born. She protested it, stating that spending months confined to a bed would drive her insane but Jace had convinced her to do as he said. The labors started in the afternoon. Jace ran frantically through the castle when he found out.

Their wedding was beautiful. It was hosted in the great hall of the Red Keep. The celebrations lasted for an entire week, filled with feasts and tourneys. Jace and Y/N were happy, they could not have asked for more. Alicent and Aemond were forced to join the festivities as they were still against their marriage. All the queen wanted to do was send Y/N to Oldtown but Viserys denied her request multiple times.

Years later, the family departed Dragonstone to go visit the king once again. Viserys always asked them to go see him, claiming he missed his daughter and his grandson. Although, the reality was that he missed them all.

Aelor was now four years young and he was a very energetic child. Jace did the best he could to keep up with him, yet it was too much to handle sometimes. The boy had sneaked out multiple times, even managing to get close to the dragons. Of course, Jace was on the verge of collapsing each time he did.

The entire family had gathered in the main hall to talk. The pitter-patter and the loud, child giggles echoed through. Aelor was glad to be there. He was a very curious boy, often stopping to stare at the decor around him.

Jace was speaking to Viserys when he felt a tug on his pants. Without hesitation, he lifted Aelor, placing him on his hip. The boy cuddled up to his father, tiredly rubbing his eyes. Y/N stood next to Jace to join the conversation.

“I do hope this future king has been behaving properly,” Viserys teased, smiling at his grandson.

Jace scoffed playfully, shaking his head. “I am slowly going insane.” As they gushed about the boy, Aemond stared at them from afar. Despite all the years that have passed, he still despised the idea of his sister marrying that bastard. He plotted many plans for years, searching for the best way to get her back to King’s Landing, without him. But there was one thing he could not deny, Y/N was happy.

#hotd imagine #hotd fanfic #jacaerys velaryon imagine #jacaerys velaryon x reader #a little bit of #aemond targaryen x reader

4K notes · View notes

ladylokilaufeyson5 · 7 days

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Where The Shadows Dance (iv)

Bodyguard!Azriel x AutumnDaughter!Reader

CHAPTER IV: The Tavern

SUMMARY: Taking care of the Princess of the Autumn Court is more challenging than Azriel anticipated

WARNINGS: more misogyny! (would it really be the autumn court without it), mentions of murder ig, alcohol and vomiting, swearing

NOTE: once more thank you to my moots @icey--stars and @fieldofdaisiies for reading over my work <33 (check out their stuff rn istg)

WORDS: 2K

Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit.

That was the only word that was flying around Azriel’s head as he knocked on the princess’s bathroom door and received no response. She had been in there for an hour now, doing Cauldron knew what, but her silence made Azriel uneasy.

Shit. He was in such deep shit.

And not just because Y/n may have drowned in her bathtub — or worse, been assassinated — but because of the way he felt about her.

Azriel was no stranger to attraction, and he knew he was attracted to the Daughter of the Autumn Court. It wasn’t just her undeniable beauty that drew him in — it was the way she held herself, the way she was so unafraid to provoke him, the fiery determination in her soul.

But he couldn’t feel that for her. Y/n was the only daughter of the Autumn Court, and if Beron discovered the feelings Azriel harboured for her… well Beron would probably send all four of his legitimate sons after him.

So he had distanced himself after the inner circle had left. He could tell it had hurt and surprised her, and of course he felt horrible, but it was the only thing he could do. The longer he spent with the Autumn Daughter, the more the attraction grew, so he decided that if he did not speak or engage with her, then maybe that would halt the growth.

But sometimes, he couldn’t help but ask her questions, to answer hers, or to just talk to her. It must have been confusing for Y/n, with how much Azriel seemed to switch between being interested, and then ‘broody’, as she tended to put it.

“Lady Vanserra?” Azriel called, knocking on the wooden door. “Are you alright?”

He thought of how he had followed the princess into the bathroom earlier, and physically cringed. By the Cauldron, that had been embarrassing. He hadn’t even been thinking — he was too occupied with what she had said earlier, the way she had looked at him as she tried to seduce him. It probably would have worked if Azriel didn’t have centuries of training.

There was no answer, and Azriel’ worry grew. What if she had been assassinated? His shadows roamed the room beyond and… nothing.

Azriel opened the door, and what he saw made his blood boil. A pair of scissors lay on the ground beside what he assumed was parts of the princess’s gown, which had been transformed into a makeshift rope. It hung out of the window, and upon further inspection, she was not waiting at the bottom. Worst of all, though, was the guards stationed beneath her window were nowhere to be seen.

Where had they gone? Had they pursued the princess, or had she dealt with them otherwise? Azriel was beginning to see why the Daughter of the Autumn Court was constantly described as difficult.

Azriel took a deep breath. He needed to find her, and quickly. If Beron or anyone else discovered that she was missing…

The walls, his shadows whispered. She climbed over the castle walls.

Well, fuck. Azriel rushed to the window, intending on jumping out of it and dragging her back home, kicking and screaming, when a sly voice said, “Lost her already?”

Azriel whirled and found Eris leaning against the doorway of the bathroom, arms crossed and a small smirk on his face. Fuck fuck fuck. What was he supposed to say? Oh yeah, I lost your sister and she’s climbed over the castle gates, my bad I’ll just go grab her.

Eris chuckled and shook his head, a single strand of his hair swinging in front of his face. “You need not to worry, shadowsinger. My sister is perfectly capable of taking care of herself.”

“I’m here to protect her,” Azriel ground out, although he was surprised at how calm Eris was.

Eris raised an eyebrow, the gesture mirroring the way his sister did it. “Are you sure about that?”

Azriel paused and glared at the heir. That was what he was here for, wasn’t it? To be the Autumn Daughter’s bodyguard, to protect her from harm. That was why he was here, in this damned court, rather than at home.

“What are you talking about?” Azriel demanded.

Eris sighed and walked over to the other side of Y/n’s bathroom. He felt around for a moment, and Azriel wondered if the heir had lost his mind before part of the wallpaper popped out, as if there had been a secret door. Azriel’s shadows fluttered towards it, and inside, squirrelled away, were…

“Tunics and pants?” Azriel stated, unimpressed.

Eris rolled his eyes and waved his hand, causing the glamour to disappear. There were still a few pairs of folded pants and tunics, but they were accompanied with jewelled daggers and small bags of gold.

Why would Y/n need to hide bags of gold? Her father was a High Lord, and she appeared to have every material thing her heart desired.

“Why are you showing me this?” Azriel questioned.

“When my sister musters up the courage to finally leave this place, I want you to protect her,” Eris stated plainly, folding his hands behind his back. Before Azriel could even speak, the heir continued, “But I also want you to know that it will not be an arduous task. I have been quietly training her in defensive combat for decades… but still, she is young, and untried. She will need someone to protect her from my father’s wrath, to give him pause if he considers going after her.”

Azriel watched the heir carefully. His shadows detected no lies, but… why? Did Eris truly care this much for his sister? Azriel had to admit, Y/n seemed to be able to worm her way into anyone’s heart, but…

“Why me?” Azriel inquired. “Why not yourself?”

“Trust me, shadowsinger, should my father show any inkling of wanting my sister dead, I will kill him myself,” Eris said sharply, his eyes flashing. “She just needs to be safe during that time.”

Azriel found himself considering it. He could take Y/n to the Night Court, he could show her Velaris, he could—

“Wait. When we uphold our part of the bargain… you want us to watch over your sister as well?” Azriel asked.

A nod was all he got in response. Azriel opened his mouth, ready to say something, anything, when Eris commented, “You should probably go find my sister now. The Cauldron knows where she’s ended up.”

And, fuck, Azriel should be searching for her right now, but he was still dissecting what the fuck was going on here. What Eris was asking of him, and the Night Court. It would be considered an act of war if they harboured her — at least until Eris killed his father.

Azriel gave Eris one final glare before shadow-winnowing to the castle walls. From there, he followed Y/n’s scent, his shadows tracking her when her glamour was too strong for his immortal senses. Darkness had fallen by the time he had reached the main street, and his shadows led him to a tavern. It appeared to be similar to Velaris’s Pleasure Hall, and Azriel steeled himself as he entered.

Loud music assaulted his ears, the floor thrumming with the intensity of it. People danced everywhere, their bodies a large, twining mass. Azriel searched for the Autumn Princess, and his shadows found her before he did. She was in the middle of the dance floor, and had he not been so pissed at her in that moment, he may have stopped to marvel at her beauty. Her hair was loose, the top of her tunic unbuttoned, and she looked so free.

Did the people around her know that they danced and drank with their princess? As Azriel looked closer, he realised that her face looked slightly different — her eyes were larger, and her lips were lower. In fact, her skin was a few shades darker, and her hair was even a different tone. She had glamoured herself, even though no one knew what she really looked like.

Before he knew what he was doing, Azriel stalked through the sea of bodies, all the way to the princess. Her eyes lit up when she noticed him, a massive smile covering her face.

“Azriel!” she beamed, her voice slightly slurred. “You made it!”

Azriel narrowed his eyes at the princess. “What are you doing here?”

The princess snorted and downed the rest of her drink before he could stop her. “What does it look like, silly? I’m dancing!”

She threw her hands above her head, hips swaying to the beat of the music. People danced around her, as drunk as she was, almost as if they were some sort of hive-mind, and their only thought was to let loose.

“We’re going home,” Azriel ordered.

That seemed to sober the princess up slightly, causing her to frown and shake her head. “No. I don’t want to. I’m having fun.”

“Lady Va— Y/n, we need to leave,” Azriel urged.

Because, in this crowded tavern, anyone could be an enemy. Indeed, Azriel had already spotted several males eyeing her, although in their defence, there did not seem to be anything in their gazes beyond lust. Still, it infuriated the shadowsinger.

“Azriel,” Y/n groaned, as if he was being unreasonable.

“Please,” Azriel tried. “I’ll get into so much trouble if your father finds that we’re missing.”

It was the correct tactic, guilt tripping her, because it worked. She sighed deeply and hung her head, defeated. He felt slightly bad, but if Beron did discover that they were currently breaking at least seven of his rules… well, Azriel didn’t want to find out how he’d respond to that.

Y/n walked out with him, albeit a little drunkenly, stumbling and waving goodbye to people. When they started on the road to the castle, Azriel asked, “How often do you do this?”

Y/n shrugged and kicked a rock. “Every few weeks?”

“Every few weeks?” Azriel repeated, eyebrows raised. “How do you not get caught?”

“It’s easier when I don’t have a broody shadowsinger following me into my bathroom,” Y/n snickered.

Azriel frowned and refused to let his face flush. He looked around at the road, and he realised just how far they were from the castle. In his frantic search for Y/n, he hadn’t even noticed it was a relatively lengthy journey…

Y/n suddenly halted, hand clamped over her mouth, before she turned to the side of the road and emptied her guts into a bush. Azriel acted on instinct, gently grabbing her hair in one hand, and rubbing the other in soothing circles on her back. He remembered when he was her age, when he used to binge drink with Rhys and Cass… none of them would have even made it out of the tavern without puking, so she was doing better than all of them combined.

“I hope that wasn’t from the thought of me following you to your bathroom,” Azriel said, trying to lighten the mood.

Y/n laughed, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand. “No. Just at the thought of going back to the castle.”

She must have still been drunk to admit that so easily. Of course, she wasn’t entirely secretive about her distaste of her home, but still.

“You think you’re okay to walk?” Azriel asked.

The princess nodded, and Azriel thanked the Mother, because he really didn’t want her to throw up on him if he had to carry her. Azriel took his glove off and pressed the back of his hand to the princess’s forehead. She was warm, but not too warm, so she’d probably purged the sickness from her by now. Indeed, after doing that, Rhys, Cass, and Az would continue drinking, but that was not the case in this scenario.

As he pulled his hand back, she grabbed onto it suddenly. He was so shocked that he didn’t move when she pulled his hand closer and inspected it. Her fingertips were soft as they ran over the burn scars, and Azriel wished he’d never taken his glove off.

“Pretty,” she murmured. “Like art.” Azriel tried to pull his hand away, but Y/n held firm. “Really. There is a story behind every piece of art. And this art looks painful, but it’s beautiful.”

“Spoken like a true drunk,” Azriel muttered, finally yanking his hand away.

Y/n smiled sadly, and they walked back to the castle in silence.

TAGLIST: @honeybee54321 @marigold-morelli @lucky7rosie @itsswritten @paankhaleyaar @bubybubsters @5onedirection5 @lilah-asteria @sheblogs @thelov3lybookworm @blushingfawnsposts @thisiskaylin @morganisheree @sleepylunarwolf @bakananya @bookishbroadwaybish @namelesssaviour @glitterypirateduck @sfhsgrad-blog @ash-mc @feyres-fireheart @ib525 @azrielswhore @copenhagenspirit @eternallyelvish @teenagellamaangel @thisiskaylin @littleladdty @dnfhascorruptedme @taylorgriffin @fightmedraco

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bellaxgiornata · 1 month

Text

Neighbors [Chapter 2]

Pairing: Frank Castle x Fem!Reader Word Count: 4.8k

[Series Chapter List and Summary]

Warnings/tags: 18+; contains friends to lovers, violence, fluff, eventual smut, angst

a/n: Chapter two is finally up! I know many of you have been asking for it, so hopefully you enjoy! Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag list: @danzer8705 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @mycobrakai1972 @stilllivindue2spite @luvr-bunnyy @pone21 @sleepysleepymom @urlocalgeek @buckysvinyl @ragamuffin285 @lollulroofl @hazallem @hellooooooooooooooo @kezibear

Chin resting in your hand, you sat at a corner table by one of the large windows in Common Grounds skimming over the documents on your laptop. A half finished latte was on the table beside you–the second one you’d had since you opened the shop about an hour ago now.

The deadline for filing taxes was just around the corner and here you were still needing to get everything finalized and officially sent in before it was considered late. Since Jaime had dropped Lily off at preschool this morning and you didn’t need to pick her up until the afternoon, you figured now was the best time to finish the frustrating and tedious task that you’d been repeatedly putting off. It wasn't often that you had free moments where you weren’t watching Lily or dealing with something at the coffee shop, so this morning while you were free you figured you’d try to finish working on it–even if you’d rather have been back home sleeping in before eventually making your way into the shop.

With your focus fixed on your laptop, you weren't remotely paying attention to whoever had walked in through the front door of Common Grounds, even if your ears had vaguely registered Allison’s usual friendly greeting from behind the counter while you worked. The typical morning rush at the coffee shop had ended about fifteen minutes ago and you’d long since stopped paying attention to every occasional straggler that passed through the door.

Left hand absently sliding along the table to grab your honey lavender latte, you reread one of the lines on your laptop’s screen, trying to make sense of all the frustrating tax language. Drawing the mug up to your lips for another drink, you tried to focus on the section you were currently reading, but your concentration was easily interrupted by a familiar, deep voice suddenly ordering by the register.

“Just a large coffee, black.”

Almost automatically your eyes slid over the top of your laptop, landing on the sight of none other than your new neighbor, Frank. His back was facing you as he pulled his card out of his wallet before sliding it through the card reader and paying for his drink. He was wearing his dark jacket again this morning and a pair of dark wash jeans. His expression looked fairly neutral this time from what you could see from the profile of his face–he wasn't smiling but he didn't look nearly as surly as when you’d first seen him yesterday, either.

Behind the counter, Allison sent him another friendly smile before turning around and beginning to make his coffee. As he slipped his wallet into the back pocket of his jeans, your eyes followed the movement of his hands, admittedly lingering on a particular part of him for a moment longer than necessary as his hands returned to his sides.

I wonder if he works out , you caught yourself thinking.

The memory of Frank crouching down to talk to your niece last night flashed through your mind as your gaze gradually slid its way up his back and towards his face again. You remembered the unexpected warm and friendly smile that had taken you by surprise when he’d accepted the cookies from Lily as you sat there. The memory of it began stirring up those confusing feelings inside of you once more. He certainly hadn’t turned out to be what you’d expected, at least after that second interaction you’d now had with him. You found yourself wondering if Cora was right, maybe he wasn’t such a bad guy after all. Maybe you'd just caught him in a bad mood yesterday morning.

You saw him begin to turn and make his way towards the end of the counter where customers picked up their orders and your eyes immediately darted back down to your laptop. Ducking your head, you pretended you were intensely focused on your laptop screen, desperately hoping he hadn’t caught you staring at him. You’d already embarrassed yourself enough with him thanks to Lily pointing out that you’d called him the grumpy man from the coffee shop, you didn’t need him to catch you ogling him next. That would certainly make things even more embarrassing and uncomfortable at this point.

“Are you always here?”

Sucking in a sharp breath, you froze in your chair. Hand curling tighter around the handle of your coffee mug, you felt your body tense at the sound of his voice clearly directed at you. Considering how uninterested he’d been in small talk just yesterday morning, you figured he’d grab his coffee in silence and leave. You hadn’t anticipated that he’d actually try to strike up a conversation with you, especially with him having a clear out because you obviously looked preoccupied at the table. He could’ve easily just grabbed his drink and left, ignoring you entirely.

Slowly your eyes shifted over towards Frank. He was leaning against the coffee shop counter, one of his elbows resting along it as his head cocked just a bit to the side, his eyes slightly narrowed as he studied you. One corner of his mouth was curled up just a fraction in something almost like a smile as he waited for you to respond. Clearing your throat, you tried to ignore the frenzied beating of your heart at the sudden attention from him.

“Usually,” you answered. “Sort of comes with being the owner of the place.”

Both of his dark brows rose marginally onto his forehead in something like surprise. You fought back the feeling of pride within you at his reaction. Though Frank quickly recovered, the look of surprise shifting into a smile that was almost as warm as the one you’d seen on his face last night when he was talking to Lily.

“Is that so?” he asked curiously. “You own this place?”

You shrugged lightly in response, your eyes catching sight of Allison’s head darting up from over his shoulder, staring at you from behind the counter. She was pouring the freshly brewed coffee for him into a to-go cup with a look of stunned disbelief on her face.

“Nearest Starbucks is about twenty minutes from here,” you said, focusing back on Frank and trying to ignore Allison behind him as she began frantically mouthing things to you. “Besides grabbing a cup of coffee from one of the local fast food joints, there really aren’t many options around here. Figured the town could use a coffee shop, so I opened one.”

Frank nodded his head, his eyes still on you. They looked far more friendly than they had yesterday morning when he’d been sizing you up, that was for sure.

“Yeah, I noticed that,” he replied. “Sorta the only place to go ‘round here for a good cup of coffee it seems.”

Unable to fight back a triumphant grin, it spread wide over your lips at his compliment. “Guess it just means you’re stuck with me while you’re here then,” you told him. When a brow curiously arched up onto his forehead at your comment, you quickly added on, “For coffee. Since there’s nowhere else to really grab a cup that doesn’t taste like burnt garbage in this town, I mean.”

Allison headed over to the counter with his cup of coffee in hand, setting it down onto the surface near where he was leaning. Her eyes were darting curiously back and forth between the pair of you now.

Frank ducked his head, chuckling a little before he pushed off of the counter. “Guess your right,” he agreed. “Looks like we're both stuck with each other then.”

He reached over, picking up his coffee from the counter while offering Allison a polite ‘thank you’ as he did. Her eyes grew wide when he’d turned back around to face you, her dumbstruck gaze focusing on his back. You had a feeling there were a plethora of questions already forming in her mind that you’d be hearing the moment he left.

Frank nodded his head once towards you. “You have a good day now,” he said. “S’pose I’ll be seeing you again real soon, though.”

Something warm fluttered in your chest as he turned, making his way towards the coffee shop exit. As he walked, drawing his to-go cup up to his lips for a drink, your brain fumbled to form a coherent thought. You only briefly recovered just as he opened the door to the coffee shop.

“You too!” you called out.

He was out the door with a small grin on his mouth, turning and making his way down the sidewalk and away from your shop without a backwards glance. Your eyes followed the back of him as he went, your mind reeling at the emotional whiplash of interacting with him once more. He definitely wasn't what you'd initially expected and you had no idea what to make of that.

Allison’s fingers loudly snapping in front of your face broke you from your staring seconds later and you jumped in your chair. Eyes flying over towards her, you saw her standing beside your table.

“Spill,” she said immediately. “What the hell was that complete one-eighty about?”

“I–I don’t know,” you stammered, watching as Allison plopped into the chair across from you. “I’m just as surprised as you are.”

“Well something must have happened,” she pressed, “because yesterday morning that man was all moody and rude, now today he's actually striking up small talk? Flirting with you?”

Cheeks heating, you focused back on your cup of coffee. You picked it up, bringing it up to your lips as you shook your head. “He wasn’t flirting, Ally,” you told her. “I think he was just being friendly.”

“Uh huh,” she said, waving the idea off with a dismissive hand. “So you must’ve run into him again since yesterday morning with the way he was talking to you. What happened? I want details.”

Drinking down some of your coffee, your eyes darted back down towards your laptop. You really needed to finish your taxes, but you had a feeling Allison wouldn't stop asking questions until you answered her. Figuring it'd just be easier to tell her about last night and move on, you released a soft sigh.

“You know that duplex next to mine that's been vacant for awhile?” you asked, lowering the mug to the table. “The one Cora has been struggling to fill?”

Allison nodded. “Yes, I remember,” she answered. “She said the other day she found a tenant when she’d come in for a coffee.”

You pointed a finger out the shop's window in the direction which Frank had walked off in. Though he'd since disappeared now, having turned a corner or gotten into his truck.

“That was him,” you told her.

Allison’s eyes grew wide as she audibly gasped. “What?” she asked in surprise. “ That beautiful man is your neighbor?”

Laughing lightly, you nodded your head. “Yeah, and it’s just him. Lily was with me when Cora was telling me about him moving in the other day, so she'd had this idea to bake him cookies to welcome him to the neighborhood.”

“She’s always such a sweet kid,” Allison mused aloud.

“Mhmm,” you agreed. “Thing is, she wanted to make cookies like we did for Valentine’s Day. You remember those?”

Allison burst into a laugh, throwing a hand over her mouth as she quickly tried to stifle the noise. She didn’t succeed and you couldn't resist grinning and laughing a little yourself at the memory of your own shock at who'd opened the door to receive those cookies.

“You mean to tell me,” Allison began, still trying to quell her laughter, “that you dropped off pretty heart cookies to that guy yesterday?”

“Yep,” you told her, still grinning. “They were pink and covered in sprinkles. Lily even insisted on using one of those Valentine’s Day plates for them. So of course I had to bring her over to deliver them with me because there was no way in hell I was going to do that alone.”

A snort of amusement left Allison before she bit her lip, shaking her head. You couldn't help laughing a little more yourself.

“You should have seen my face when it was him that opened the door,” you continued. “I was certain he was going to be an asshole. Throw the cookies on the ground or belittle Lily and I. But he was…surprisingly friendly. Even took a few minutes to talk to Lily and thank her for them. I practically had to drag her away before she could volunteer us to bake him cinnamon rolls next.”

Allison’s smile grew even wider, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Sounds like someone is doing a little matchmaking,” she teased, shooting you a wink.

You rolled your eyes, glancing back down at your laptop. “She's four, Ally,” you pointed out. “She was just being friendly. Besides, he's my neighbor.”

“Which makes it even easier for him to pop over for late night booty calls,” she stated matter-of-factly.

Your eyes flew up over the screen of your laptop, landing on Ally as they widened. She laughed at the look on your face, rising up from her chair as the door to the shop opened once again.

“That's bordering on very inappropriate work talk,” you quickly scolded her. “And that's the end of this topic of conversation, I think.”

“Uh huh,” she replied, a knowing smile on her lips as she made her way back towards the register. “Sure it is, boss.”

The moment the panicked cries met your ears, your eyes flew open and consciousness quickly returned to you. Pushing yourself up in your bed, you frantically began throwing the sheets off of yourself when you heard Lily’s distressed voice calling out for you in between the loud sobs that were coming from down the hall. It didn’t take Penny long to climb out of her dog bed at the noise, bolting out of the room before you’d barely managed to stand upright.

“I’m coming, Lily!” you called out to her.

Fighting back the fog of sleep you’d just abruptly woken from, you made your way out of your bedroom and crossed the few steps down the hall towards the room you’d long since turned into Lily’s for the night’s Jaime worked at the bar. Stepping into the room, you spotted her sitting up in her bed and clutching her stuffed husky version of Penny to her chest. The nightlight across the room cast her in a soft, pink glow as the real Penny sat beside her bed, her head resting along the mattress.

“Hey,” you greeted her softly, making your way over towards the edge of the bed to sit. “What’s wrong? Did you have a bad dream?”

Lily nodded her head quickly as soft sobs continued to fall from her lips. You could see the damp tear streaks on her cheeks in the dim light, the sight twisting your heart in your chest. You hated ever seeing anything but a smile on her face. Opening your arms to her in offer of comfort, she immediately lunged forward across the bed and wrapped her small arms around you in a hug. You held her tight in return, rocking her gently against you.

“I’m sorry, coffee bean,” you whispered. “It was only a dream though. It wasn’t real and it can’t hurt you. And you've got Penny and I here with you.”

“I don’t want to sleep,” she whispered back, her little voice cracking from where her face was buried against your shoulder. “Don’t make me sleep, Nini, please?”

You sighed, eyelids slowly lowering as you continued to hold her against you. It must’ve been a real bad dream if she was saying that tonight. Often you wondered what her bad dreams were about when she had them, though you’d never pushed for an answer. Though by now you knew there was only one guaranteed way to get the bad dream out of her mind so she’d go back to sleep tonight and not keep you both awake all night long. You found yourself grateful that it wasn’t winter anymore.

“Do you want to go sit outside for a minute?” you asked her. “Look at the stars and calm down?”

She nodded her head against your shoulder, sniffling slightly. One of your hands lightly patted her back.

“Alright, let’s go grab our coats and shoes,” you said.

Reluctantly she released you, though one of her little hands quickly found yours while the other still gripped her stuffed husky. Both of you slid off of the bed and made your way out of the room and down the short hallway towards the stairs. Penny dutifully followed along after the pair of you.

There was a few minutes of silence as you and Lily slipped your shoes and coats on in the front entryway of the living room before you both made your way through the kitchen and over towards the sliding glass door that led to the backyard. As you unlocked the door, your gaze landed over on Penny who was now wagging her tail behind you, excited about the prospect of going outside.

“Uh uh,” you told her, shaking your head. “You slipped your collar a couple of nights ago and I don’t feel like chasing after you around the whole neighborhood at two in the morning. So you’re staying inside.”

Penny grumbled back at you, swinging her head around in a circle in her husky equivalent of an eye roll. You figured she was probably upset at hearing the word ‘stay’ mixed into what you’d said. But you shook your head again at her, too tired to even want to think about her slipping her collar and sneaking her way out of the old and worn wooden fence that surrounded the yard right now.

“All your own doing, girl,” you told her. “Don’t like it? Stop sneaking out of the yard and making me chase after you. Until then, you stay put.”

With another irritated and prolonged grumble, Penny slowly lowered herself down onto the kitchen floor. Lily giggled lightly at your stubborn dog as you focused back on the door, pulling it open and stepping outside with her hand once more holding onto yours. Though as you both stepped out onto the patio, you quickly noticed you weren’t alone in the backyard.

On the small neighboring patio next to yours, you spotted Frank sitting in one of the patio chairs with his legs kicked out before him, his solemn gaze fixed up above on the night sky, one of his hands absently running across his mouth. But he quickly snapped out of his thoughts seconds later when he registered the sound of your back door having slid open. His head turned over his shoulder towards the pair of you where you’d stopped frozen in your tracks.

“Sorry,” you apologized quickly, uncertain of what else to say. “I didn’t see you out here, we didn’t mean to bother you.”

Frank’s eyes dropped down onto Lily beside you, her hand still holding tight to yours while the other clutched her stuffed husky to her chest. You noticed the way his gaze softened instantly when he’d focused on her, probably noticing her red puffy eyes from having just been crying.

“‘S’alright,” he replied, his gaze sliding back up to you. “Not just my backyard.”

Drawing his feet in towards himself, he began to rise out of his chair. You winced, feeling bad for practically kicking him out of the space he’d been in first. But he’d barely risen to his feet before the sound of Lily’s voice stopped him.

“I had a bad dream,” she said softly. “Do you get bad dreams, Frank?”

Frank froze halfway out of his chair, a muscle twitching in his cheek as the moonlight above illuminated his face. Your brows knitted faintly together as you watched his entire body tense at her question. Gradually his attention fixed back onto your niece, his eyes a confusing mix of emotions that your tired brain couldn’t quite read.

“Yeah,” he answered. “I do.”

Something about the heavy tone in which he’d answered her had caught your attention. His words felt like a loaded answer, one with more meaning behind it that you found yourself curious about. What sort of bad dreams did he have? Were they the reason for the often gruff exterior he seemed to exude? Was it anything to do with why he was here by himself?

Though of course, you weren’t remotely about to ask him a single one of those questions.

Lily dropped your hand, her arms both holding the stuffed dog to her chest in a hug as she crossed the small distance over to Frank's patio. You frowned, shoulders sagging at her once more being the four year old she was who couldn't help inserting herself somewhere she shouldn't be.

“Lily, please don't–”

“What makes you feel better after a bad dream?” Lily asked Frank, cutting you off as if you hadn't even begun to reprimand her. “I go outside with Nini. The stars are pretty to look at.”

You shot Frank an apologetic smile before focusing back on your niece. Taking a step forward, you reached a hand out in an attempt to direct her back into your side of the yard. “Lily,” you began again, “you can't just go barging into his yard and asking him personal questions. That's not polite, coffee bean. Especially not at two in the morning.”

Frank glanced up at you, shaking his head lightly. “It's alright,” he assured you. “She’s not bothering me. The opposite, actually.”

Taken aback by his response, once again considering the hour and your niece’s intrusive question, you were surprised to see Frank settle back down into his chair. There was a small smile on his face as he rested his fidgeting hands in his lap, his attention returning to your niece as Lily continued over onto his patio, climbing up onto the patio chair beside his as if it was the most natural thing in the world for her to do. Standing with the toes of your shoes in the grass just before his patio and at the edge of your yard, you weren’t even sure how to react at this point.

“I like to look at the stars sometimes, too,” he told Lily. “Sometimes they’re calming for me. Other times I might read a book.”

Lily smiled, her little legs not quite reaching the ground from where she sat in the chair absently petting her stuffed dog. “I like when Nini reads me books. She does good voices,” she told him.

Frank’s attention briefly shifted over to where you were standing, something still indecipherable written on his face. Despite the slight chill of the spring night, you felt something warm creep up your neck and flood your cheeks. Nervously you wrapped your arms over your chest, the weight of his gaze once more drawing forth some confusing feelings inside of you.

“Does she now?” Frank mused.

“Mhmm,” Lily replied, beginning to swing her legs back and forth. “I like when she reads the monkey book.”

Frank’s mouth twisted into a sad smile, his gaze dropping down towards his booted feet that had begun toeing the pavement beneath them. Your brows pulled together a bit, a crease forming between them as you noted the slight shift in his mood. He was quiet for a moment before you heard him speak again.

“Used to read One Batch, Two Batch to my daughter every night,” he murmured. “Was her favorite book. Sometimes that’s what she wanted me to read when she had bad dreams.”

“Nini reads that book to me all the time!” Lily exclaimed, excitedly sitting forward in her chair. “That’s where Penny got her name!”

“Is it now?” Frank asked, glancing up at her.

Even from his profile you could tell the look on Frank’s face hinted at something more hidden behind what he’d said. His use of past tense hadn’t gone unnoticed even to your tired ears, either. You could practically feel a sadness exuding from him where he sat in the chair, chuckling softly as Lily bounced up and down in her seat telling him about how she’d helped you name your husky when you’d adopted her not too long ago. But as she continued to enthusiastically tell the story, you could tell that sadness never seemed to fade from his expression.

“Hey, Lil?” you said, cutting in when you found an opportunity.

She paused in the middle of her storytelling, the pair of them focusing on you where you still stood at the edge of your yard. You knew if you didn’t stop her now, she’d probably sit there talking to Frank until the sun came up, and while it oddly looked as if he almost wouldn’t mind that, you definitely felt it was time to usher her back inside to bed before she’d be too awake to fall back asleep with how excited she'd already become.

“Maybe we should tell Frank goodnight and head back inside?” you suggested. “It’s late and I’m sure he needs to get to sleep at some point, too. Besides, I’m dropping you off at your dad’s in the morning and I think you’ll want to be rested to spend the day with him, right?”

The excitement quickly fell from Lily’s face and you fought the ache in your chest at the sight. It had been great seeing her happy after how you’d just found her in her room, but you really did need to get some sleep and so did she. If she continued on talking to Frank like this you knew she'd be wide awake talking for the next hour.

“How about I let you bring Penny’s bed into your room for the rest of the night, hmm?” you offered. “Let her sleep in there with you, too?”

The smile immediately returned to her face as she scooted off the patio chair. “Really?” she asked, hopping up and down on her feet. “She can stay with me tonight?”

You nodded, barely getting an affirmative out before Lily was darting past you back towards your sliding door and calling ‘goodnight’ out loudly to Frank as she went. She was back inside your place and darting presumably up to your room to get the dog bed with Penny bounding along behind her in no time.

Frank’s soft chuckle drew your attention back towards him. Your arms were still hugging your chest as you sent him yet another apologetic smile.

“Sorry for interrupting your evening,” you told him, gesturing your head towards the direction Lily had disappeared. “She’s not very shy, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. Doesn’t quite understand when she's being rude instead of friendly.”

Frank’s hand ran across his mouth as he shook his head, a glimmer of something in his eyes as he looked up at you. Your stomach fluttered nervously at the realization of just how alone you currently were with him.

“Seems like a real good kid,” he told you.

“Yeah,” you said, smiling fondly. “She is.” Clearing your throat, you took a step backwards, aware that you needed to get back inside. “Sorry for bothering you, though. I’ll uh, leave you to it.”

Turning around, you made your way back towards your side of the duplex. Once again you’d found that Frank had surprised you with how sweet he was with your niece, though learning he had a daughter certainly seemed to explain that away. You wondered if he and his wife had recently separated or divorced and that was why he was out here looking so melancholic.

Just as your hand grabbed onto the handle of your sliding door, pulling it open, you heard Frank’s voice from behind you. You paused there on the patio at the sound of it.

“You’re good with her,” he called out.

Biting back the smile on your face, you glanced back over your shoulder at him.

“Could say the same about you,” you called back.

He let out an amused huff, ducking his head almost bashfully at your compliment. That smile was further threatening to take over your face as you heard Lily loudly talking to Penny upstairs inside your duplex.

“Goodnight, Frank.”

He looked up at you from beneath his lashes, his head still partially ducked down. There was a ghost of a smile on his face as he nodded back at you once.

“G’night,” he replied.

Stepping back into your place, you found yourself smiling to yourself as you shut and locked the sliding door behind you. As you began to slip off your coat and shoes in the kitchen, you wondered if maybe having him as a neighbor wouldn’t be half as bad as you’d first thought.

#frank castle x reader #frank castle fluff #frank castle x you #frank castle #the punisher

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yoonivy · 7 days

Text

my house of stone, your ivy grows (and now i’m covered in you); part 1.

aemond targaryen x fem!reader

genre. childhood friends to lovers, slow burn, drama, angst, fluff, eventual smut. it’s a y/n fic but no use of y/n. heavily inspired by taylor swift’s ‘ivy’.

When a fierce blizzard ravages the North, a certain dragon rider gets caught up in it and crashes onto Bear Island.

And right to you, the youngest daughter of House Mormont.

warnings. no warnings yet!

wc. 10k+ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09

“It looks like a storm is heading this way,” Dorothea Mormont murmurs with a frown, her eyes set up above at the darkened sky, clouds of swirling greys gradually covering the sunlight. Sitting up from under a tree she had been reading by, she dusts herself off before picking up the skirt of her dress and then turns to the little girl close by her, drawing on the ground with a stick. “Come. We should head inside.”

You huff in frustration, ignoring your elder sister and continue on the mountains you already laid out on the dirt. You feel her stare for a couple more seconds before she calls your name sternly.

Stomping your feet, you cross your arms and glare at her. “But Dorothea … The day had just begun!”

You hated it. The start of the winter season in the North has been strange so far, but maybe even more so on Bear Island.

Instead of the falling of white and soft snow, it had been raining slates of hail. The temperature going from warm enough to go on out without your furs in the morn to your fingers and toes feeling frost bitten once noon hits the horizon. Your favourite season, summer, came and went so quickly that you had not enjoyed it in the fullest like you had earlier years; and autumn was merely a blink of an eye.

There is not much to do for a young lady such as yourself, only ten and two, when the cold comes around. Staying indoors is such a bore, and your mother would only allow you a few hours every other day to train with Ser Gregory and your brothers outdoors, unlike your older siblings who could stay out all day and night with duties they have outside the castle grounds.

A kind yet pitying smile spreads on your sister’s pretty face. She then walks over to you, taking a hold of your freezing hands, tenderly rubbing them in between her own to warm you up.

“I know, little cub. But look—“ you follow her gaze, at the training grounds a few yards away, where your three older brothers were practicing their swordsmanship with some of the others of the castle, but are now putting away their equipment. “It seems everyone else is done for the day as well.”

As if feeling eyes on him, the second oldest, Forrest, turns towards the two of you and waves, exuberant like always, before cupping his hands around his mouth to call out, “We’ve been called inside! A storm is coming!”

Dorothea rolls her eyes at her twin, mutters under her breath about how obvious that is. When she hears you giggle, she smiles your way. “Let’s go? I promise I’ll allow you to use my paints once we get inside.”

That has you excited, nodding happily, finally letting her guide you to your home, hand in hand.

Much to your displeasure to admit, it was a good thing that your sister had made haste inside when you had. For only an hour later, the harsh winds and flurry of snow surrounded the area, rattling Mormont Keep noisily. This blizzard more ruthless than any you have seen before.

It is night now, you are back in your bedchamber after supper and a hot bath. The tubes of paint and easel that Dorothea had promised you is abandoned in favor of staring out your window. A deep scowl mars your young face – a perfect mirror of your father’s whenever he has a tough decision to make, like when he had to travel to King’s Landing for two moons just to bend the knee to the Dragon girl-queen to be – knowing it would days before you step foot outside again.

Glaring out the window, you could see nothing but snow. Even the Godswoods that would always greet you when you peered outside cannot be seen tonight. It makes you wary for the all the animals out there – especially the bears like in your House’s sigil – hoping they are safe and sound, hibernating comfortably.

It’s too cold. You shiver, pulling the blanket you had draped around you closer to your body – and then that’s when you see it.

The flash of red outside in the sky, like burning flames, so vivid that it is visible through the stormy haze. Then a magnificent roar, louder than anything you have heard before, leading to another burst of orange and reds bright enough for you to witness something falling from the skies.

And as if something takes over your body — you don’t know what — that has you getting up, hurriedly lacing up your boots and grabbing your heaviest furs. You are already out the door and running through the halls when your older brother by two years, Jorah, exclaims behind you when he peeks out of his own bedchamber, “Did you all hear that, too?!”

You do not respond, almost colliding with your oldest brother, Braeden, when you reach the wooden staircase leading down to the main floor of the castle. By the look on his face, it seems that he too had seen whatever it was that fell from the sky. He checks you over, notices the furs you got on, and he just knew what you were about to do. He shakes his head slowly, says your name cautiously and then a warning, “ Wait— “

But it is already too late, your little legs carry you down the stairs, faster than he could catch up. You were always a spritely little menace when you wanted to be. Landing on the ground floor, you pass by your father who whips to look at you and the direction you are heading, calling out your name as well. But you don’t listen, don’t stop, not when you know that whatever it was out there that fell from the sky is all alone, out in the bitter cold.

You make it to the two large doors of the entrance, pressing yourself against it but it does not budge. The two guards on stand by on each of the two wooden pillars a few steps away from the doors are surprised at the sight of you, exchanging a look, but ultimately stays by their post because they know you, and this is not the first time you tried to escape the keep in plain sight. Besides, you are too small and weak to budge the door even slightly – especially now, with the winds outside pushing back against your hardest effort.

But then suddenly, the doors do start to move, and when you open your eyes in astonishment, thinking it is all you – you see that it was actually Forrest. With a smirk on his face, he throws a playful wink your way.

A wide smile spreads on your lips; of course it’s him! Being the total opposite of his twin, Forrest is always joining in your foolish plans, humoring you without knowing (or caring) about the consequences.

And this… This will probably have a huge consequence, you think as the double doors blow wide open, letting in the merciless storm inside your home.

The guards are flabbergasted, both taking a second to realize what just happened, watching you and Forrest make a break for it.

“Lord Forrest! Lady—”

You hear them behind you, following, but you keep running, surprisingly matching pace with your most athletic brother even if the blizzard is trying to slow you down.

“Little cub, where are we going?” Forrest asks in between labored breaths, arm in front of him to try to block the heavy wind blowing against him that is making him exert so much more energy.

You were faring much worse, the built up of fallen snow already at your kneecaps but you push through. So at his question, you try to pinpoint in your mind where on Bear Island that the fallen thing could have landed. You should know it. You know your home like it is the back of your hand… C’mon, you chastise yourself, THINK!

Then an image of a place pops in your head, and you know for sure that is where it should be.

“Beyond the castle walls! In the woods! Where Jorah fell off the tree and broke his ankle!”

Forrest knows exactly where you mean, making him frown. “That is pretty far, sister–”

“Forrest! You imbecile !”

Forrest looks behind him, laughing at the angry Braeden hot on your heels. He could turn you around — knows he should, for every second spent outside more dangerous than the last — but something about pissing Braeden off seems a lot more fun at the moment.

He runs a bit ahead of you, stopping with his back turned towards you and bends his knees. “Hop on!”

You do as he says, jumping on his back and he makes sure to secure his hold on you before he starts again. Soon enough the two of you are at the gigantic logged entrance of the castle walls, still open. They had not a chance to shut it earlier, waiting for some of the men to return from their hunt. But once they all got inside, it was far too late for the men still outdoors to close it together when they needed to seek shelter fast.

Just as you pass the carving of the woman dressed in bearskin with a child on the gates, you feel yourself getting pulled back. At your shock, your grip on Forrest loosens and before you know it the both of you land on your backs on the snowy ground. It is Braeden’s seething glare you see when your eyes open after the big tumble. But although very clearly angry, he pulls both you and Forrest up on your feet.

“What the hell are you two doing?!” Braeden seethes while looking between his two younger siblings. Neither of you look him in the eyes – Forrest looks down in shame and you are looking beyond him as if he is not even in front of you. “Are you trying to get killed or are you both just daft?!”

“We were just–”

“Don’t even answer that,” Braeden shuts Forrest down, not wanting to hear any dumb excuses for the rhetorical question he asked. “Now get your feet moving back to the keep or else I’ll kill you before the storm does—”

And your feet do get moving — but in the opposite direction of your home. Braeden swiftly grabs your shoulders from either side and makes you face him directly.

“Are your ears broken?! Are you not gonna listen to me?!” He yells in your face. Braeden does not know what has gotten into you. Forrest, he can see him doing this. But you… You are always one to do as you are told. Sure, you would occasionally throw a fit but are never outright disobedient like this. But tonight, you are the mastermind of this stupidity.

And even now, even as he is up in your face, your eyes are still darting from his and then to the darkened entrance into the woods. His grip on you tightens, terrified that you’ll run off again if given the chance. He says your name to try to get your attention, and that is when another roar shakes up the island.

It sounds so mournful, wounded, and hearing it causes your heart to pick up in a panic, your breathing getting heavier.

“We have to…” You trail off, trying to pull away from your eldest brother. He keeps you in place, gesturing at the two guards who had just caught up for help with a gesture of his head.

“No, we have to go back inside.”

“But Braeden–”

“No,” he cuts you off, this time his word sounding more final.

Or it should be. You know it should be because Braeden is not only the oldest but the wisest of your siblings and you should not argue with him. But you just can’t… You just can’t sit by and just let this go.

You look him straight in the eyes, back straightening to feel more confident in your stance of defiance. “But you saw it didn’t you?! The thing that fell from the sky!”

“ And…? ” His brows furrow together as his head shakes incredulously. “What about it? What if it’s dangerous?”

Another beastly cry resounds, proving his point.

“You hear that? That’s a dragon—”

“And a bloody big one at that—”

“Shut up, Forrest. I don’t want to hear a word from you.”

“But what if it’s—”

“What if it’s what?!” It was you who Braeden snaps at this time, only to turn to see your watery gaze, and he is not sure if it’s because of the harsh wind on your face or if it's something else.

“I don’t know! ” You choke out with a sob, and he gets his answer. You are upset and in distress, worried for the unknown. “But something – or someone – out there needs help! Our help! ” You scream over the wailing winds in your eardrums. The tears are flowing freely down your face now, and it is clear you are having a hard time breathing, on the brink of hyperventilating, “Please, Braeden, please… They’re all alone and probably scared and –”

Braeden is not one to be swayed by tears. And this will not be the first.

It is your bravery that makes him change his mind.

He takes a shuddering sigh, silently praying to the Gods that if you all make out of the woods alive, that his mother would not finish the job.

“Alright, little cub,” Braeden presents his hand to you with a small smile. “Then let us help them. Together.”

Brightening up slightly, you take his hand, head bobbing in determination.

The journey to the far eastern side of Bear Island where the willow tree that Jorah fell from and broke his ankles just three moons ago is going to be quite a perilous task. Climbing down the steep jagged hills that borders one of the rivers that runs through Bear Island and then crossing across said river has always been intensely tough, more so now with the blizzard picking up. Luckily one the guards that accompanied you and your brothers, Tylor, used to be a part of the group of woodcutters that traverse that part of the island before he took the post to guard your family. He leads your group now, navigating a path that even you could easily keep up with.

Soon enough, you make it closer and closer to where you needed to be, and another howl from the sorrowful dragon lets your group determine just how close you are.

You weren’t far off from your prediction, passing the willow tree to go a bit more north. That is where you find the most gigantic and terrifying creature you have ever seen in your life.

The dark green-bronze dragon laid on the ground and has made a clearing for itself with all the trees it had trampled flat. As soon as Braeden - who is the head of the group - steps foot in its newfound territory, its ferocious eyes snap your way, a low rumbling of a warning in its throat. “Well, shit…” Forrest blurts out in awe, exchanging a look with Braeden. “I do not think we are wanted here.”

Braeden sighs with a nod, glancing back at the dragon and seeing nothing amiss – except, you know, just the dragon – then looks down towards you. “I’m sorry, little cub. It seems this was all for naught.”

Your lips tremble, confused because you know you saw something fall. “But we saw it fall, and it wasn’t just the dragon!”

“It must have been its droppings,” Forrest jokes through his chattering teeth. “Scared shitless because of the storm.”

You glare at him, hating how he could be right. Is that really just what you saw?

“My Lords, my Lady. We should head back now before your Lady Mother has our heads,” the second guard, Howland, pipes up; sounding more scared of your mother than the beast up ahead.

Braeden agrees with him, making a motion for you all to turn around to retrace your steps back to Mormont Keep. This time you do not argue.

But you glance back one last time, watching the dragon watching you, raising its head slightly off the ground as it huffs in satisfaction at your retreat. Then that is when you see it – a tiny hand, lifting up to caress the underside of the dragon’s neck before it falls back limp. You couldn’t really make out what it was, the snow obstructing your vision of whatever it is on the ground that the dragon is curled up around, protective. But it seems small – young.

You are running again before you, yourself, could even comprehend what you are doing.

As you weave through the fallen trees, your brothers and the guards try to follow – but another angry growl from the now alert dragon freeze you all in your place.

“Turn around now ,” Braeden seethes at you, eyes between you and the dragon that is now slowly getting up, looking like it’s getting ready to lunge. He moves his body just an inch, not even taking a step forward, and the dragon still gives a roar of fury.

But you were close enough now that when you squint your eyes to see better, you can see that the dragon is definitely coiled around someone. A human.

“There’s someone there!” You call back to your brothers.

“What?!”

“The dragon is protecting them…” You trail off, notice them shivering violently.

They do not look like they are in good shape.

The sight has the urgency coursing through your veins, taking a tentative and slow step forward. The dragon keeps its eyes on you, but doesn’t make a sound this time. Perhaps foolish on your part, but this has you rationalizing that it is allowing you to come closer.

“Stop being stupid!” You hear Forrest behind you and the snap of a tree branch being stepped on. That has the dragon snapping its jaw forward – though not towards you but at your companions. When they stop moving, it focuses on you again, huffing and tilting its chin down, towards the child hidden underneath it to protect them from the cold. A whimper vibrates the dragon’s throat, and that is when you knew . It wants you — and only you — to help.

Your feet keep moving now, not in a sprint but faster than a walk. You hear your brothers calling your name but you just shout back that you’ll be okay, that you can do it alone. For some inexplicable reason, you knew in your heart that the dragon would not harm you.

You are closer now, close enough to truly take in how enormous this creature is. Are all dragons this big? 10 of them can probably cover the whole entirety of Bear Island. Maybe less.

Shaking your head, you focus on the more important task at hand than mathematics. Getting to whoever it is the dragon is protecting.

You quicken up your pace and you finally reach the foot of the dragon. It moves slightly, pushing a log aside to give you an easier path to where the child lays beneath it. It bends its neck down, pushing you with its snout with another huff as if saying, hurry .

You are not cautious anymore, running full speed ahead and find a young boy who looks not much older than yourself at the center of the nest the dragon had made. His hair and skin were as pale as the snow on the ground that was not scorched with the dragon’s fire and clothes dark enough to just seem like a piece of fallen wood or a big rock. It’s no wonder none of you could see him earlier.

Dread fills you up, noticing he is not moving at all. Not even a shiver shook him. You quickly crash beside him, knees hitting the ground in a way that should hurt but you don’t feel it. With your own decreasing strength — finally feeling the chill slowing and weighing down your body – you pull him towards you, his upper body lying precariously on your lap.

“Wake up, please… Please, wake up…” you murmur to him, eyes filling with heated tears. You caress his face, your thumb rubbing across his cheek, just below the line of a scar running through his right eye. It is a healed one, so it wasn’t from the fall. At least there is that. But as you push his bangs off his face, you find blood gushing from his temple. Feeling sick, you try to check how bad it is, pressing your fingers around the cut. While you inspect, that’s when the boy starts to stir slightly.

Frozen, you stare at his face as his unscarred eye starts to move from behind the lid. Then he is blinking, slow and blearily, until it opens and you are greeted with the most vivid shade of violet. Your heart jumps to your throat as his head tilts and looks at you with the softest gaze, murmuring,

“ Enke..litsos... ? ”

Before you can ask what he means, his eye flutters shut again, though not before you see the light in them dimming. A sob wrecks through your body, pulling him into a tight embrace. Hoping and praying that would not be the last time you see that beautiful lilac eye.

The murmurings at the other side of the wooden door that you have your ear pressed against is way too quiet. Your little fists clenched at your sides tightly so, frustrated that you are having trouble eavesdropping on the conversation.

It has almost been two hours since you, your brothers, and the guards had burst through the entrance of your home, shocking your family at the sight of an unconscious young boy that they have never seen before carried on Forrest’s back. It has almost been two hours, and you still do not know the fate of the boy that you had saved.

Did you actually even save him? Is he even still alive ?

You try not to think about how he was so cold to the touch, the blue of his lips, the light leaving his violet eye.

You have never been so scared before. It must have been evident in your sobbing and desperate calls for your brothers’ help as you struggled to lift the boy up by yourself that the dragon finally allowed them to come to you.

You remember the intense look in the dragon’s eyes as it watched you leave its territory. You knew it had been holding back, choosing to trust you to take care of the boy who is clearly important to it.

Was the dragon wrong to put its trust on you to save the boy it had been fiercely protecting?

You thump your forehead against the door, pressing hard on it enough to hurt as you blink away the incoming tears.

“Oi, stop doing that.”

You glance over to the side where Braeden sits cross-legged on the floor, back against the wall beside the door. He looks absolutely exhausted.

Being the oldest, Braeden got the brunt of the scolding. Your mother did not know whether to be angry at her children’s foolish venture or praiseful that said foolish venture might have saved a person’s life. So she settled for both, which was more frightening in the long run.

“You should go to sleep,” you tell him, turning your head to once again frown at the door as if it offended you. “Forrest already has.”

He chuckles. “As you should, as well. A little cub needs to hibernate, you know? To grow big and strong.”

You take a deep inhale, ignoring him. Or you try to. Maybe if you were strong enough then maybe…

“He is in good hands,” Braeden says aloud after a few minutes of silence. “Remember, Maester Garland is the reason our great-grandfather lived to be 102.”

It is not that you did not think Maester Garland is incompetent, it is that you think you were not fast enough to bring the boy to the maester to treat to the best of his capabilities. Your group did take the riskier path back home, in an obvious hurry, but you are afraid that was not enough.

You are about to tell your oldest brother what has been weighing down on your mind, when the door suddenly opens, startling you to take a step back with a gasp.

At the sight of the two of you, your mother heavily sighs.

“When did my two most obedient children stop listening to me?” She murmurs mostly to herself but obviously intending for you and your brother to hear her.

“Our names are not Dorothea One and Dorothea Two ,” you remind her haughtily. You might be pushing it now, but you could not hold back, your frustration from waiting so long taking over you. When Braeden laughs at your jest, your mother narrows her eyes at the both of you.

She could not even reply back, as you are already trying to push past her and into the room. You don’t get very far though, her arm barring you from entering.

“The boy needs his rest, and you do too, young lady,” she says, foregoing your familial pet name. Whenever someone does that, you know they are obviously not in the mood to coddle you or they are seriously upset with you. Your mother is both at the moment.

But her tone does not even phase you, when all you could really focus on is her words:

The boy needs his rest.

So does that mean…?

“So he is alright?” Your brother asks, beating you to it.

While he stands up from the ground, your mother answers, “He will be–” her stern gaze resting on you, “-- if his rest is uninterrupted–”

“Did he awaken!?” You ask excitedly, and she hushes you quickly with a glare, pressing a finger to her lips. You quickly slap a hand over your mouth, looking into the room, but all you see is Maester Garland and your father coming out of it.

Just as your father is about to close the door, you manage a quick peek into the guest chamber. They had moved the bed closer to the fireplace in the room, but you do not see the boy. The headboard of the bed hiding him from your view. At least you know he will be warm.

“He has not yet awakened–” Your face drops, turning to Maester Garland. Like always, there is a kind smile on his face, and he continues, “But if it will ease you, My Lady, he is breathing evenly and is even talking in his sleep. I will not lie to you, his left arm is broken and so are a few ribs. But all that will heal in due time.”

Your father clasps his hand on your shoulder, shaking you out of your worry. “Forrest broke his ribs and it only took a moon to heal, remember that?”

You nod, remembering it all too well. The heated fight that broke out between your brother and the youngest Stark boy, Willam. It was the first time you have ever seen your brother being truly angry and you often wondered what had really transpired between them, what words were exchanged.

“And what of the wound on his head?” Braeden asks, breaking you out of the memory.

“Luckily it is just a minor cut. There is no sign of a hemorrhage or anything too serious. But I will be checking again in the morrow to make certain.”

Braeden hums, seemingly more at ease now with the new information. He smiles your way. “You hear that, little cub? He will be alright.”

Though you nod, you look downcast, gnawing at your lip.

You feel hands on your shoulders, and when you peer in front of you, it is not your father, but your mother bending down to be at your height.

“You did well,” she begins, causing your eyes to well up. “Although I’m still upset at you; you were a very brave and wonderful girl today, little cub.”

“I think she takes after you, my love,” your father says, chuckling. “You would have done the same thing in her shoes.”

Your mother laughs as she tugs you into her warm embrace. You squeeze her back tightly.

“Now, shall I tuck you into bed?”

Feeling sleepiness overtake you now, you allow your mother to take you by the hand. As the two of you walk away, you hear the three left behind still conversing behind you.

“I really do hope the blizzard passes soon so I can send a raven to King’s Landing. His family must be worried sick.”

“King’s Landing? I thought the boy did not wake…?”

“He does not need to wake for us to know who he is. There is no doubt about it. The boy… He is who they call One-Eye. The King’s youngest son—”

Heartbeat quickening, his name starts to echo in your head as soon as you hear your father utter it.

Prince Aemond Targaryen.

You had thought the stories you heard about the one-eyed Targaryan Prince were just that — stories.

You had never believed them, always scoffing whenever Septa Earla caught you taking an extra piece of pie and her reminding you that your greed will someday lead you to be like One-Eye; the prince who stole a dragon from a dead girl and in turn lost his own eye for it. You had thought it was such a stupid tale. Who would not trade an eye for a dragon? How could you even steal a dragon in the first place?

But now, you think about that ferocious and colossal creature in that clearing. The mere thought of the young prince stealing it makes no sense to you. Not only is he smaller than yourself, but you highly doubt the dragon would allow anyone to just “steal” it, whatever that entails. No, you think about the protectiveness the dragon has over the young boy, and you have the feeling that whatever it is that transpired between the prince and the mighty beast is not a one-way devious act. They have a bond that your Septa’s silly, little cautionary tale could never comprehend.

Then that has you thinking, wondering what made this Aemond Targaryen so special enough to have a dragon so loyal to him. It cannot just be because he is a prince, right? Is it because of his bloodline? You remember learning something about the Targaryens and their bloodline, how they came from an old and ruined city in the East. Or something like that… Perhaps you should have listened to those lessons closer, but you did not really care for history like Jorah does…

So you think, and think, and overthink so hard that you could not get a wink of sleep, tossing and turning in your bed.

You need to know more about Aemond Targaryen.

Huffing, you finally sit up. It is early in the morning now, and if the blizzard was not still ravaging hard outside, the sun would be beginning to rise in just an hour. Which means that although there would be a few in the Keep slowly awakening to start their day, there would still be a chance for you to sneak out of your chamber without being seen.

Pulling your blankets off you and hopping out of bed, you are quick yet light footed when you leave your bedchamber. Luckily, the room that the Targaryen Prince is currently in is close by yours, just five doors down the hall. You slip into his room like a ghost, barely making any sound.

As soon as the door closes behind you, you find yourself pressing up against it. You have always been too hasty, not thinking your plans through. But this one might be stupider than the one you had last night, traversing out in the blizzard… Barging into a room without consent. Not only was it improper, but it was rude and you were taught better. If your parents were not disappointed in you before, they would most definitely be now. Besides, it is not like he is awake to answer all the burning questions you came in here to ask.

So you decide to just leave, come back when he is lucid enough for company.

Though before you can open the door, you hear him start to stir behind you, whimpering in discomfort. You are swift to turn right back around, rushing to check on him.

The young prince looks better than the last time you saw him – color has returned to his complexion – but he still looks unwell. He lays there, a pained look pinching his sleeping face and a sling around his arm. Although for you it feels sweltering in the room, Aemond is still shivering as if still out in the cold. It has your heart clenching at the sight.

Worriedly, you touch his face with the back of your hand, gasping when you feel just how cold he still really is.

You take a hold of his hand closest to you - luckily, it is the one that is not broken - keeping it in between your hands as you start to try to rub the cold away. This always made you feel better whenever your loved ones did it to you, it always brought a warm feeling in your chest.

It seems to be working. As you continue, the tension between his brows relaxes slightly due to your touch. The silver-haired prince looks a bit more at peace now. A sigh of relief falls from your parted lips.

You keep at it for a bit, only stopping when a yawn creeps up on you. That is when you realize how tired you are now, body feeling heavy and head full of fluff. You should go anyway, before anyone finds you in there.

But when you go to pull your hand away, the once loose hold of his hand in yours tightens, keeping you in place. You try again and again to pry yourself away but his grip on you will not let up. For someone so small, it surprises you how strong he seems.

Finally, after a couple more minutes of trying and him not budging, you groan as you give up. Standing in place, you grow even more exhausted, and it has you looking around. You will not sit yourself on the bed beside him, even if there is room; but you cannot stand there anymore. That is when you spot a stool just beside his bed. It must have been the one Maester Garland had been sitting on when he was tending to the young prince. With your leg stretching, you manage to catch your foot around a leg to bring it closer to you.

Once you sit down, you heave another sigh, wondering to yourself how you got into this predicament. Then you laugh to yourself, remembering it was all you.

Soon, you start to slump on the stool, eyelids drooping until it closes.

So it is there where you finally fall asleep, holding onto the prince’s hand.

“ Nngh..? ” The feeling of your hand getting squeezed causes you to stir awake. Your eyes blink open slowly, the wet feel of drool running down the side of your cheek that is pressed against soft fur. After wiping the gross feeling, you sit up, groaning with a stretch to alleviate the ache in your back — only to register that you could not, as the unfamiliar hand holding your own prevented you from doing so.

Confused, your gaze follows where your hand is connected, only half-remembering where you are. That is when you catch a lilac eye staring wide-eyed at you, a flush of pink high on the prince’s cheeks. The sight causes you startle with a gasp, so surprised to see him awake. The prince flinches minutely at your reaction, snatching his hand away from yours, head turning the other way, not facing you anymore.

You are too ecstatic to question it, not even noticing, so overjoyed that he is sitting up and awake and alive .

“Are you–”

“What happened to it?”

Your head tilts in confusion, but it is not like he can see it. “It…?” Then you realize, “Oh! The dragon?!” You glance out the window, the snow storm still wrecking havoc outside. You frown a little, murmuring as you look back at him, “I’m sure it’s fine… I hope so…”

His head to you, glaring as he snaps, “No, I don’t mean Vhagar. I know she’s fine. But…” He turns away again, for some reason unable to look at you for long, letting his hair fall to cover his face. “Where is it? My patch…”

“Your patch…?”

“Do not lie to me. It is an unforgivable offense to lie to a prince, you know,” he threatens. You see his hand that was once holding yours now clenching at the fur blanket covering him. “So give me back my eyepatch or else I’ll…” He takes a deep breath, and you are not sure if he is letting you fill in the blank to scare you more or if he just could not think of a punishment.

You sit up, pushing the stool back with the heels of your foot to create a bit of distance between the two of you. He lifts his head up slightly at the sound of the legs of the stool scratching the floor.

“When I found you, you were not wearing an eyepatch,” you let him know, frowning. It irritated you that he was accusing you of something you had no knowledge of, that all his ire is directed towards you. But you tell yourself to show kindness because of how terrified he must be feeling, being in an unfamiliar place – and injured, nonetheless. “It must have fallen off while you were falling. I’m sorry, but I do not have it.”

He takes a swallow at that, head turning to face you again, his violet eye on you while the other side of his face still obscured by his silver hair. “ You … You were the one that found me?”

You give him a tentative nod, nervous that he will accuse you of something else.

“So you are…” His face softens a bit as he mutters to himself just as soft, “ Enkelitsos… ”

Though quiet, you hear him. You were about to ask him what that means — for it is the second time you had heard him say it — but a knock on the door has your mouth clamping shut. Both your head turns, watching the door open. In comes Maester Garland, who stops short at the sight of the two of you.

Attention on you, the Maester huffs out a slight chuckle, “I should have known you’d be here, Lady—“

At the sound of your name, the young Prince perks up, glancing at you through the corner of his eye.

“I just got here!” You lie. Luckily, the only other one who knows the truth did not sell you out.

“I’m sure…” Maester Garland says with a smile. “I think everyone is breaking their fast now. Would you like to join them while I check over our young guest here? And you can come back with some food for him as well.”

Though it sounded like a suggestion, you knew it was really an order. So you nod, getting off the stool as you grin at the young Prince. “I’ll be back! I’ll get you the most delicious food, don’t you even worry about it!”

He looks at you in mild surprise, nodding back. Then you are running out the door, the Prince watching you until you are out of his sight.

A few days pass before the blizzard also passes, and your father is finally able to send a raven to King’s Landing in regard to Prince Aemond. He writes about what had happened, how Aemond is doing, and Maester Garland’s professional opinion of allowing Aemond to heal on Bear Island for a moon before sending him back home. Your father also writes that he, himself, will be happy to take the Prince home with a few bannerman but if they have another plan, he is all ears for it.

While waiting for a letter back from King’s Landing, your family welcomes Aemond to your home, trying to make him feel as comfortable as possible. By his fifth day at Mormont Keep, he was told that he was well enough to eat with your family in the dining hall. At first he had politely refused, but on the eighth day, he timidly joined in the middle of dinner. By the end of that dinner, you can tell he was well entertained by Jorah’s and Forrest’s antics, and it was nice to see him laughing despite doing so seems to hurt his still healing ribs. He joined every family meal after that.

Prince Aemond and your brothers get along swimmingly, especially Forrest – which is not surprising because Forrest has a way of making a person feel like he is truly their best friend. Your parents and Dorothea also become quite fond of the young boy. Maester Garland likes how curious he is, always asking questions. Even Septa Earla has only nice things to say about him, warning you not to repeat the story she used to tell about him.

As you watch everyone around you get closer to the Targaryen prince, you can not help but feel envious. Ever since that first time the two of you talked, you never had again. But it is not like you have not tried. Because you have. Every. Single. Day.

Like clockwork, you visit him in his chamber every morning, trying not to let it get to you when he allows you inside after you knock, only to look away when he realizes it is you . You push through the cold shoulder he gives you; telling him about your day, reading to him your favorite books, showing off your latest embroideries or artworks — anything you can think of that would interest him. Honestly, it is like talking to a wall, but at least you know a wall has no choice but to not talk back.

It is upsetting. The only time you ever hear his voice is if he is talking to someone else. Even whenever you are in a group, he would only answer questions you asked if someone else repeats it after you.

You are not sure why he is treating you this way. It cannot just be because of the eye patch he accused you of keeping from him, right? Does he really just hate you? It hurts, but you pretend to everyone else that all is fine, only allowing the tears to flow when you are alone in your bedchamber at night.

You do not even know why you keep trying. You guess it is because the other kids on the island are either older or way too young to be your friend. Sure you have your siblings, but you’ve always wanted a best friend of your own like you have read in your books — and then Aemond fell from the sky, and it might be selfish but in your heart all this was fated for him to be that friend for you. Why else were you the one that saw him fall and the one who found him and the one his dragon, Vhagar, allowed to come to him?

Still, it was disheartening to be ignored. One can only take a number of rejections before giving up all hope.

So on the day that marks the second week that Aemond has been staying at Bear Island, you decide that this day will be the last time that you try to get through to him to become your friend. If he once again gives you the cold shoulder then you will leave him alone, forever.

Or at least until he leaves in a few weeks. Then after that, you’ll never have to see him ever again and with no effort on both your part. Because on that same morning, your father wakes you to tell you the news. They had just received a raven from King’s Landing and got word from the king himself that they trust your father’s words and are grateful for the care your house has given to the young Prince. He would like his son home sooner, but if the maester believes that a few more weeks to heal would be good for the boy then they’ll adhere to his suggestion.

Before he leaves for this morning duties, your father hands you a tiny scroll, telling you with a smile that he is trusting you to deliver it safely to the prince. It is a very important note from his mother and sister and it will definitely brighten up his day.

Maybe – just maybe – today will be the day , you think to yourself as you get ready. It is sunny outside, and you were also informed that Ser Gregory wants you to train with your brothers today. Not only that, you and Dorothea finally finished the little project you asked her to help you with last night. So once you are done getting dressed, you grab the scroll and the secret thing from inside your box full of your personal treasure before skipping excitedly out of your room.

“Come in,” you hear the muffled call out from the other side of the door you had just knocked. When you walk inside, you knew what you will be greeted with… Absolutely nothing. Once again, when the prince sees it is you, he looks away, pretending no one even came in the room as he quickly shuts the book he has in his hands.

You take a deep breath, trying to let it not bother you. At this point, you should be used to it by now.

You stride with purpose into the room, stopping beside where he sits at the desk. You hold your palm out, presenting the tiny scroll. You can see him eye it curiously.

“It is from your mother and sister,” you tell him. At that, he glances up at you, sees the kind smile on your face before sharply looking back down to cautiously take the note from your hand. While he pulls at the string, you let him know, “You’ll be staying for a couple more weeks so you can heal properly, then my father and a few of our bannerman will take you home.”

“I know,” he murmurs. “Lord Mormont already told me earlier.”

Your father already visited him? Then why did he not just give him the note then? You can’t help but playfully roll your eyes at your father’s antics. He must have known how hard you have been trying to befriend the prince.

As Aemond opens the note, you give him some privacy, turning away to look and touch at the knick knacks on the desk he has made his own. Some things you can tell are from your brothers, but most were given to him by you. That is when you notice that the book he had been reading is the one you told him is your favorite. It makes you smile a little, but you remind yourself not to make a big deal of it. He was probably just bored.

“What are you wearing?” You hear Aemond ask, and when you turn to him, he is staring at you, the note placed neatly on the desk. You almost want to point at yourself and go, ‘ who me ?’ because this is the first time he has ever said something directed at you without you having to prompt him first. But you guess your outfit for today is very different from your usual. Instead of skirts and dresses, you have dressed up in your new favorite pants.

Taking a step back, you proudly show it off, spinning for him. “It’s my new training outfit! Dorothea made it for–”

“Training…?”

Smiling wide, you excitedly nod. “Yes! Today, Ser Gregory is teaching me how to block–”

“Girls don’t fight,” Aemond says like it is a fact, taking you aback.

“Yes, they do!’ You snap back, getting a bit heated now.

“No, they don’t,” he says again, though a confused frown sits on his face. “My mother, the Queen, doesn't. My sister doesn’t. A lady doesn’t fight.”

You glare at him. If you weren’t so mad, it would have dawned on you that this is the first time he has held your gaze for longer than a second.

“ I’m a lady too! I’m ten and two already, and they do fight, like my mother and grandmother and—”

“You’re ten and two?”

You let out a frustrated huff, sick of his interruptions and his backwards way of thinking. So entitled and rude. Are all princes like this? Do you even want to be his friend anymore?

“What’s it to you ?”

He glances at you from under his pale lashes and says softly as if shy, “I am as well…”

Your eyes widen, eagerly asking him when his date of birth is. Turns out, yours and his are only a few days apart. And just like, everything he has done to you and the way he treated you prior to this is forgotten. You excitedly ask him a million more questions, and this time, he indulges you with the answer.

Some time passed and although you hated to halt this development between you and the prince, you had to get going to train with Ser Gregory.

“I guess I should get going,” you tell him after the both of you had died down from a fit of laughter because of a story you told about Septa Earla and a hornets’ nest.

Maybe you are imagining things, but you could have sworn you saw a flicker of disappointment on his face. “I suppose you should…”

Even after bidding each other a good day, you shift in place awkwardly. Although you had been waiting for today’s training for so long, you just did not want to leave… But you should. With a sigh, you turn, about to head out, when–

“Oh!” You turn back to him, remembering you had something else for him. From your pocket, you take it out to give to him. Once he has it in his hand and is examining it, you start explaining, “I know this might not be like the one you lost but I hope you’ll like it! I don’t know what your old one looks like but I borrowed Butcher Pate’s for reference. You see, he lost his eye from a fishing accident way before I was born. But anyway, I think I must have weirded him out when I asked for it. Dorothea and I made it – well, okay, mostly Dorothea made it but look–” you proudly point out the little purple embroidery on the band of the leather eyepatch, “I did that! Isn’t it nice? I’m not usually good at lettering but I tried really hard to perfect your initials!”

You were talking so fast, a million words per second, that Aemond can’t help but giggle a bit. When you are done, you wait expectantly, nervous as well in the way you toy your fingers together. Then Aemond’s lilac eye is on you, a big smile spreading on his face, rounding his cheeks.

“Thank you,” he says, so genuinely that it makes all of Dorothea’s chores that you did to have her make it worth it. Then he looks away, back at the eyepatch in his hands, fingers feeling the threading, “And I’m sorry… For being so… Unsavory towards you.”

Your heart warms at his apology, almost tearing up. But you blink it back when he looks up at you again and repeats, “I’m truly sorry.”

“It’s alright,” you forgive easily. This is what you wanted. All your hard work had paid off. Then with a toothy grin, you add teasingly, “At least you know that you were being a jerk.”

His head dips sheepishly. Before he can drown in sorrow, you hit his good shoulder playfully.

“Would you like to watch my brothers and I train?”

When Aemond nods, you hold your hand out, offering it for him to take.

He does.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #hotd imagine #hotd #aemond #aemond targaryen

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tomriddleslovergirl · 5 months

Note

Hcs about how Aemond and Aegon(separate) would react to the reader running away and getting pretty far from Kings Landing? I really love your works btw.

Aemond and Aegon ii Targaryen’s reaction to You running away

Warnings: spoilers, possessiveness, murder

Word count: 1.3k

Aegon ii Targaryen:

Being a seamstress’s daughter, you helped your mother create dresses for Princess Rhaenyra and Queen Alicent.

Your mother had been young when you both moved to King's Landing, having just given birth to you. She’d been close to Princess Rhaenyra, having conversations with each other when she was taking the Princess’s measurements.

As you got older, you helped your mother make dresses for the royal family.

When Rhaenyra moved to Driftmark with the rest of her family, you both were stuck making clothing for Queen Alicent and at times, the other royals.

Prince Aegon & you hadn’t met until it was around the time of his nameday.

Queen Alicent had chosen you and your mother to create a suit for Aegon, for him to wear on his nameday celebration.

Your mother put you on the job of taking the prince’s measurements.

Though Aegon was a bit drunk, he still found it in himself to flirt with you. You, of course, had politely tried to shut down Aegon’s advances, but you soon found yourself taken with him.

Your affair had begun from then on.

When King Viserys died, Aemond found Aegon in your bedroom, begging you to run away with him.

After Aegon was crowned king, your mother had forced you to quickly pack a bag with the items you needed before leaving the castle, saying she wouldn’t support and usurper as a king.

Hours after you left, Aegon had come to visit you.

Your door was open, which hadn’t alarmed Aegon until he walked into your room.

It was a mess.

Clothes were strewn on the floor, various fabrics and sewing supplies were left on chairs or tables.

The drunk prince sobered up when he realized quite a few of your personal items were missing.

Aegon called for his guards to go looking for you as he went to Alicent’s chambers.

When Aegon realized that you were missing, his mind jumped to two possibilities. One, that you had been taken as hostage by the blacks, since Aegon had never been quiet about his relationship with you. Or two, that his mother had something to do with you leaving.

Alicent had tried talking to Aegon before about ending his affair with you. Calling the relationship a disgrace and asking if he had no respect for his sister-wife. Saying that she was using him for his wealth.

Aegon had argued against her and in the end didn’t end his affair with you.

Now, Aegon thought that she may have paid you off to leave King's Landing.

Once he had gotten to her chambers, it was clear to Alicent that something was wrong with Aegon. His cheeks were red and he looked to be in a rush.

When Aegon asked if she had anything to do with your disappearance, she denied it, but said it was good that you were gone. That you would have been nothing but trouble.

Aegon believed her, though defended you when she insulted you.

Over the next couple of days Aegon had been drinking more since your disappearance. When you were still here, he would help him with his drinking problems, but now that you were gone, he had fallen back into his hole of depression.

Since you were gone, Aegon found himself missing you more and more. He got out of bed and walked —or more like stumbled —to your room.

Guards followed him. There were more of them since the war between the blacks and the greens.

He lay down on your bed and breathed it in. It still smelt like you.

Aegon was about to cry over you, when he noticed a small paper half covered by one of the pillows on your bed.

He grabbed it and read through it.

The letter was written in an obvious hurry, the writing messy & jumbled.

In the letter it said that your mother was making you leave King’s Landing in support of his half sister Rhaenyra. And — perhaps stupidly— you wrote that your mother was taking you to Essos.

He clenched the note in his hand. This meant you didn’t actually want to leave him right?

He felt anger towards your mother. She was the one who took you away from him

Aegon decided that he was going to get you back. It wasn’t going to be up for debate.

Aemond Targaryen:

Before the war with the Greens and the Blacks, your father had taken you to King’s Landing to meet Aemond Targaryen.

King Viserys had sent a letter, hoping that he would agree to betroth you to Aemond.

Your father, of course, had jumped at the chance to accept.

To marry a Targaryen would be an honor, he had told you.

You had found yourself upset that you would be forced to marry, but he convinced you to stay on your best behavior.

A celebration was thrown for you & your father.

Your house was quite respectable and wealthy, as you were known for your silk.

You met Aemond at the dinner party, and were surprised by how respectable he was. And you weren't going to lie, he was nice to look at.

You had heard stories about how unattractive the prince was, but you disagreed.

And as much as you didn’t want to admit it, you felt your cheeks heat up when the prince kissed your hand.

During the whole celebration, Aemond was respectful and seemed kind. And you thought that you both seemed to get along just fine.

There was no doubt in your head that you were going to get betrothed after that night.

For the rest of the time you were to spend in King’s Landing, Aemond had courted you.

You both would have tea together while being supervised, and spend time in the library.

Aemond was intelligent. That much was obvious.

You would watch as he trained using his sword & Aemond himself found that he was taken by you.

You didn’t shy away from his gaze like the other ladies-in-court have.

You were intelligent yourself & were eager for him to teach you High Valyrian.

You both got married not long after.

Once the war Between The Blacks & The Greens had begun, you had begun to worry quite a bit over Aemond.

The war had truly begun when Aemond had killed Lucerys Velaryon.

He had claimed it was an accident, while Alicent & Otto had reprimanded him.

Though conflicted, you had decided to believe Aemond when he said it was an accident.

Later on into the war, Aemond was sent to retake Harrenhal.

Once word got back to you that Aemond had ordered the executions of The Strongs, you felt disgusted.

He ordered the death of innocent women & children.

You began to question if the murder of Lucerys was truly an accident.

The more you thought about Aemond, the more you were disgusted by him.

War had changed him. Or had he always been like that?

You decided you were going to leave. You couldn’t share a bed with a man who didn’t think twice about ordering the deaths of children.

It wasn’t as difficult as one would think to leave the castle.

Aemond had taught you about the hidden passages & the layout of them.

You packed a bag and stuffed a pouch with as much gold and diamonds that would fit in it. You put on some of your valuable jewelry as well, in case of an emergency and you need to sell them.

You put on a cloak and grabbed your bag and left, taking a ship to Dorne.

Once Aemond had heard about your disappearance, he returned to King’s Landing as fast as he could, putting Ser Criston Cole in charge of Harrenhal.

Once he had returned to King’s Landing, he hurried to your shared chambers to make sure that what he had heard was true. And it was. You wear no longer in your chambers.

Had someone snuck into the castle and taken you hostage? It was possible.

He soon noticed that some of your jewelry and dresses were gone.

Had you left? To go where? It wouldn’t be to visit your parents. You were far too smart for that.

Aemond Targaryen’s wife was missing and he was going to find you.

And once he does, he was going to make sure you weren’t going to leave him again.

#aemond targaryen x reader #Aemond Targaryen x reader #Aegon Targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #house of the dragon x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aegon ii targaryen x reader #Aegon ii Targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen x you #aemond targaren x female reader #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aegon ii targaryen x fem!reader #aegon ii targaryen x female reader

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fairyhaos · 9 months

Text

❍ the 2k event: minghao + password

alternative title: three words, eight letters

pairing: minghao x gn!reader

genre: college au, roommates au, friends to lovers, fluff

word count: 1068

warnings: none

event taglist (send ask to be added): @slytherinshua @rubywonu @weird-bookworm @amxlia-stars @pepperonijem @hannyoontify @my-moarmy-heart @suminsfav @minhui896 @haocovr @lockburn-castle @sweet-like-caramel @horanghae8

"Xu Minghao!"

There’s the sound of someone crashing through the apartment, and Minghao attempts to stifle his grin. Not even a second later, his bedroom door is thrown open and you stand at the threshold, laptop in hand, fuming.

“Xu Minghao,” you repeat, teeth gritted. “What have you done to my laptop?”

Minghao cocks an eyebrow. “I didn’t do anything.”

You scream, a frustrated yelp that would be much more terrifying if you weren’t pouting like a baby. It’s cute.

“Hao! Come on, I need this laptop for my assignments. Please, please tell me what the password is. What did you change it to?”

Minghao shakes his head, going back to his phone, sipping his cup of tea. “I told you, I didn’t do anything.”

There’s a long silence. He looks up.

You fold your arms, the laptop still dangling in one of your hands. You stare at your roommate for several seconds longer, before turning around on your heel with a sniff.

“Fine. I’m gonna call your mother and tell her that you’ve been bullying me.”

“Wait!” Immediately, he sets down his teacup and scrambles out of bed, following you as you run into the kitchen to dial Minghao’s mother and tattle on him. “Wait! Y/N, no, wait, I’ll give you a hint.”

“No. Give me the whole password,” you say, dangling your phone in the air, out of Minghao’s reach.

It works for all of five seconds, because Minghao is some crazy flexible person with ridiculously long arms. He snatches your phone away, exiting you out of the phone app and shutting your phone down. You whine, attempting to snatch your phone back but he holds a hand over your face, keeping you in place.

“A hint,” he repeats firmly, and there’s desperation in his eyes, along with something… warm? “I’ll give you a hint, and you won’t call my mother.”

You remove Minghao’s hand from your face, huffing. The laptop is on the counter beside you, and you glance at it before looking up at Minghao again.

“Fine,” you say at last, making grabby hands for your phone. “Gimme a hint.”

Minghao grins, bright and happy again. “The password is three words, eight letters. All lowercase.”

You huff as Minghao plops the phone back into your hand and then retreats back to his room. “That’s not a very safe password!” you yell back at him.

“Have fun!” is all he replies.

You roll your eyes, unable to stop yourself from smiling, just a little, at his antics.

———————————— ⌨️

“This absolute idiot,” you mutter to yourself, typing angrily on your laptop. “How can three words only have eight letters between them?”

The sun is now dipping below the horizon, slowly bleeding into the darkness of the night, and you’re still locked out from your own laptop. After receiving your hint from Minghao, you’d sat down at your desk, cracked your knuckles, and set to work.

It’s been hours since then. You’ve had your laptop bar you from inputting a password attempt at least ten times. You’re five more ‘incorrect password’ messages from tearing the thing to pieces.

“Minghao!” you yell. “Tell me my password!”

You receive no reply.

“Why did you change my password in the first place?”

Silence.

“Minghao, I hate you!”

Minghao laughs. “I love you, too!”

You grumble to yourself, staring at the log-in page in front of you. The log-in page stares mockingly back. The cursor continues blinking at you, and really, who knew that cursors knew how to look like they were laughing?

“I bet it’s something really simple,” you groan. “If I were Minghao, what would I change Y/N’s password to? What would annoy Y/N the most?”

This third-person thinking really just proved how the whole situation was driving you insane.

You frown down at your laptop, chin in hand, tapping your cheek thoughtfully.

“Minghao! Is it a sentence?”

There’s a brief pause. “Yes.”

Your eyes light up. “Of course! I-H-A-T-E-Y-O-U!”

The sound of dry laughter floats across the hall from Minghao’s bedroom. “Haha, Y/N, very funny.” He pauses. “You’re not far off, though.”

“What, you hate me?”

“No!” Minghao pokes his head out of his room, glaring at you. “Figure out your password yourself.”

“You’re the one who changed it!”

Minghao just shrugs, as if to say ‘that’s your problem’, and his head disappears with a slam of his bedroom door.

“Idiot,” you mutter. “What’s close to ‘I hate you’, anyway?”

But then you freeze, a shiver running down your spine, fingers halting on top of the keyboard. What if it’s not ‘I hate you’ but rather…

Your brain is screaming at you, telling you to get out of your fantasies, but your heart is thrumming in your chest with hope, faint, foolish hope, and your fingers shakily input the letters anyway, holding your breath.

You press the ‘Enter’ key.

Your laptop’s homescreen wallpaper flashes up in front of you.

———————————— ⌨️

Minghao wakes up to a laptop in his lap, and a post-it note slapped on the lid.

He rubs his eyes, wondering idly if it’s a note telling him that you’ve taken his laptop hostage until he tells you the password to yours, before pausing. Because this is his laptop in his lap, right now, and your obnoxiously bright pink post-it note has a mere four words written on it.

Four words, eleven letters.

Minghao tilts his head, smiling, suddenly much more awake. The apartment is quiet, almost unusually so, and he can almost see you in his mind’s eye, already wide awake in your own room, waiting to see what his reaction will be.

Part of him is proud that you figured out the password to your own laptop. Part of him is annoyed that you messed with his in retaliation.

Well, he supposes, he kind of started this.

He thinks he already knows what you’ve changed his password to, considering the fact that you’ve decided to respond in this way rather than storm into his room and yell in his ear before promptly trying to pack a bag and leave him.

Nevertheless, he won’t deny that his heartbeat is abnormally loud as he opens the laptop lid, typing in the password that comes to mind.

I love you too.

The log-in page pauses, loading, as if intentionally prolonging Minghao’s anticipation, before then it lets him in, presenting him with his laptop’s homescreen.

Minghao smiles.

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draco-tyler-mikes-paramour · 1 year

Text

request from anon:

“king george iii and reader with their young son”

little king

young king george iii x afab!reader

navigating life as new parents after welcoming your son george iv

warnings: fluff, suggestive smut (no actual smut)

you laid in bed with george in a blissful slumber before the cries of your newborn son awoke you. He could wake the entire castle with his screams as far as you were concerned. It had not even been 24 hours since you gave birth to him and you were already becoming a hands on mother even with the strong encouragement from your doctor to stay in bed.

You entered the nursery to see one of the maids already tending to him "Your majesty" she curtsied while holding George. You smiled "Thank you for the help Anna. I'll take it from here." you reached out for him "Oh well, it's only that you've only just given birth ma'am and the doctors have advised rest it's really no problem." she insisted. You shook your head "Nonsense, I assure you, this is my child. He is my responsibility now. Thank you for everything but please get some sleep Anna." you whispered softly.

She smiled back "Thank you your majesty." she handed baby George to you before she retired to her chamber. "Hello my darling." you cooed as the young boy continued wailing "Oh, it's okay baby." you reassured him as you cradled and bounced him gently in your arms. You wandered over to the large window of his room where the moons light spilled in through the panes. "Look at that Georgie. That's the moon. Almost as pretty as you." the newborn began to settle as he watched the moon for the first time with big eyes "Just like daddy aren't you?"

Back in your own room the king reached out to you in his sleepy state only to find you weren't in the bed which made him wake up abruptly. He wandered out of the room before hearing the faint sounds of your voice which he followed to the nursery. He leant on the doorframe in delight as he watched you talk sweetly to your son. Seeing you be a mum made him love you all the more. How tender and gentle you were, the way you nursed him. "Sweetheart." George called to you.

You turned towards him with a soft grin as he walked over to the window "Let me take him. You must sleep my love." he kissed your forehead encircling his arms around your own helping you rock baby George. “He’s magnificent isn’t he.” you whispered leaning your back on George’s chest. “Our little king.” he replied back. The small boy squirmed as you turned around placed him in his dad’s arms. “Daddy’s turn.” you said before kissing him on his little head. George gave a small chuckle before he kissed you “Let that pretty little head of yours dream, my dear. I’ll be in soon.” you nodded and went back to bed.

Getting under the covers, you attempted sleep once more which did not go to plan you were tossing and turning for at least an hour and found that you could not sleep without George present. And as if the heavens had read your mind he returned to your chamber “I thought you were sleeping darling, I’ve settled George.” you shook your head at him “Not without you here” he gave you his dazzling smile and got into the bed pulling you on top of him gently. “Better?” he asked. “Much” you sighed contentedly.

“Watching you mother little Georgie made me realise something.” George stroked your head. “and what’s that?” you laid your head on your hands as you stared at him. “I want as many babies with you as possible and I would like to start making them tomorrow.” he admitted.“George! I gave birth yesterday! I need to rest as tempting as your offer sounds.” You laughed wholeheartedly as he pouted and tucked a loose lock of hair behind your ear whispering “You wouldn’t have to do anything. Just lay there and enjoy yourself, let me do all the work….let me make you feel good.”

You felt yourself become hot and bothered at his very vivid suggestion “We’ll talk about it tomorrow.” you leaned forward and kissed the tip of his nose. George smirked before hugging you closely “Goodnight darling, I love you.” you nuzzled into him “Love you more.” you whispered as you both drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

my first ever king george request!! hope everyone likes it <3

please let me know if there is anything i need to change, if it does not feel inclusive to you as the reader. I always try to be as vague as possible in order for it to be inclusive to everyone. However Y/N is female in this fic. I’m very happy to write a non gender specific fic!

#bridgerton #king george iii #king george bridgerton #king george iii x y/n #king george iii x reader #king george #king george iii smut #king george fluff #king george smut #young king george #young king george iii x reader #young king george iii smut #young king george iii #queen charlotte #queen charlotte bridgerton

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cillivnz · 3 months

Text

a good host [k. heisenberg]

PAIRING — KARL HEISENBERG x DIMITRESCU!READER

TROPE — DBF! [here, mother’s friend, no really close relation] WORD COUNT — 2469

WARNINGS — NSFW. 18+. fem!reader. f!masturbation, usage of sex toys, virgin!reader, voyeurism, hefty age-gap (reader is in early 20s, Karl is in his 50s), vaginal fingering, innocence/corruption kink, cursing, pet-names (bunny, little girl, etc.), slight degradation (he calls you a whore), slightly mean!Karl, orgasm denial, dacryphilia, squirting, overstimulation, clit-play.

A/N — i just think heisenberg would be a good fuck, that’s it— that’s what motivated this. i’m slowly rising like a phoenix out of the fires of writer’s block, so, slowly but surely i’m trying to get back on track with my requests and works. though, a full comeback might take a few months. no mention of Alcides [ gender-bent Lady Dimitrescu ], didn’t want to jinx the two verses, so Alcina is Alcina.

more from my ‘resident evil: village’ world.

“FUCK,” YOU GROAN as you shut the door to your chambers behind you.

you’d excused yourself for the umpteenth time, now inconsiderate of how rude you would seem to the man you’ve been leaving all alone in the cold and empty dining room of your manor.

well, your mother’s.

and a friend, too.

well, not a friend.

Karl Heisenberg and Alcina Dimitrescu would prefer the term, “(unfortunate) associates”, but manners run well in a noble’s blood so it’s natural for the two to try and be cordial.

and it’s the same manners, the same etiquettes instilled in you that have put you in this state.

flushed, embarrassed, and wet.

you couldn’t bare to look Heisenberg in the eye while he made small talk with you in your home.

his round, black glasses were perched on the tip of his strong nose, his hat, like a loyal companion, sat next to him on a wooden chair, his greyed hair, out and frisky. his overcoat had been long abandoned, perhaps, at the very entrance to the castle, so his beige undershirt, clasped around his big broad muscles and softer belly didn’t go unnoticed by you.

fuck, the more you took in his appearance, the hotter became the air in the room, your ability to breathe and the more frantically you’d rub some friction between your thighs.

YOU’VE FOUND KARL HEISENBERG INSATIABLE since you were a little girl, which you still were in his eyes, as he painfully reminded you every time by referring to you by that and nothing else. as of lately, your urges around him have worsened.

since your eighteenth birthday, Heisenberg’s began to look at you a little differently.

he listens carefully to the squeaky little bunny that’s lately got the balls to interrupt her own mother and company, correct them in political matters. yeah, Heisenberg’s began to notice you. earlier, your greetings would be dismissed with a nonchalant wave in the air, but now? heisenberg could hear you talk for hours, so desperately wanting to hear the sultry tone of your voice that he’d ask to hear the same story about your earliest memory hunting, over and over again.

so, to say he felt appalled by your frequent exits from your evening together— an evening he had committed to your mother, had Alcina been home— was an understatement.

after the third time you had left him alone, his impatience and ego got the best of him, though there was an undertone of curiosity there, too. so, he, sly as a fox, followed you to your room.

your back was pressed against the door, muffling your cries while you rubbed your clit down with a toy. you were in a trance, mind fogged with painful lust that drove your legs on its own fervour. you sink into your bed, ripping your dress off of yourself in a swift motion, and hiding your bare skin with a poor excuse of a duvet.

your toy was swimming in your slick with every rub against your cunt.

“fucking hell,” you moaned when the tip of the toy nudged your slit, massaging your hole, easing in only to pull out immediately.

while you edged yourself, thoughts of Karl crawled in, like their usual tendency. you fantasised about his big hands, how they were resting on your knee for a brief second, before continued sipping on his earl grey tea.

you sighed when his name escaped your parted lips. you wanted nothing more than to be split open on his cock, at his mercy. your mother would be so ashamed if she ever finds out one of her most disliked friends is the prime source of your infatuation.

you think about his lips on yours, your breasts, his fingers inside you, on your clit— you whined, “this so wrong, but fuck me,”

AND KARL HEISENBERG COULDN’T AGREE MORE.

admiring you from afar, he couldn’t help but feel a twitch of arousal in his pants. he is no damn saint, but he knew it was wrong of him to enter your room without permission. not his fault, your moans sounded like cries, so you worried him, he just wanted to make sure you’re okay. and his reason for staying to watch the show? well, like i said, he’s no goddamn saint. he just wants to make sure you’re really okay.

“so this is what you keep hopping off to do, little bunny.” his thunderous voice roared in the quiet of your room, the transatlantic accent deeper once laced with lust and mischief.

you jolted upright, “L-Lord Heisenberg!” you clutched the duvet to your chest, failing to cover a breast, still, and his eyes were quick to catch your mistake.

“please, call me Karl.”

“you seemed to have no problem in moaning it.”

you froze, clenching involuntarily around the the length of your penetrating toy.

“i—”

“shh, it’s okay.” your stammering was interrupted by a single step taken by Karl closer to you.

“i don’t mind, bunny.” he cooed, softly.

he took this moment to admire you.

you looked like a deer caught in headlights. your doe eyes, furrowed brows, plump, parted lips, the subtle perspiration settled on your collarbone, the duvet clinging to your cleavage and your pebble-like nipples peaking through it.

“i’m just mad you had to hide the show from me.” by the time those words leave his mouth, he’s on the foot of your bed. “thought Mama Dimitrescu would’ve taught you better, sweet girl.” he ‘tsk’ed.

“A GOOD HOST ISN’T SELFISH, HM?”

“A GOOD HOST LETS THE GUEST JOIN IN ON THE FUN,” he says; nods convincingly. a gentle hand inching towards your blanketed body, ready to peel the duvet off and expose you in all vulnerability.

he eyes you for a moment, face searching for any sign of hesitation or discomfort, but was pleased to see you rip all coverings off yourself on your own, grabbing Karl by the hand and pulling him towards you.

his face was so close to yours, you felt heat emitting from your body onto his.

“now, little bunny, are you sure yo—”

you cut him off by placing a kiss of fervency on his lips, giving Heisenberg the answer to questions he was yet to ask.

he let you enjoy the lead for a brief moment more, before taking control. laying you down, Karl was quick to climb on top of you, his hands not wasting a minute to feel your body beneath him.

“i’d be lying if i said i didn’t want this, too, little bunny.” you gasped at the confession, Karl using your parted lips as an opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth.

you were kissing your mother’s friend, holy fuck.

“tell me, baby,” he pulled away, eliciting a whine from you. he now laid besides you, relishing the warmth of your bare body.

“‘you ever put a real cock in there?” his hand grabbed a hold of the toy, easing in the tip into your slick folds.

your mind went blank, grinding your hips slowly into the sudden intrusion. “when i ask you a question, little girl, you answer it.” Heisenberg’s voice deepened in dominance. “n-no, sir.” you shook your head.

Karl groaned in arousal.

the thought of stripping away your innocence was so intoxicating.

“of course not. that brute dame knows better than to let you out of this shithole.” he scoffs, evidently insulting your mother, for reasons he named himself, “the minute you ought to step out, men would be pouncing on you like rabid dogs.”

he didn’t stop pumping the toy inside you, agonisingly slow, leaving you whining and begging for more.

“you want more, huh, bun?” he spoke so gently. you nodded, unable to form words because of the aching sensation between your legs.

“okay, i’ll give you more.” he lifted you up like you weighed a feather, placing you between his legs. his own were positioned between yours, so all it took for him to have you spread out was just a nudge of his knees.

“there we go, now spread that pretty pussy for me.” he rested his head on your shoulder, watching eagerly while you hesitated a little to comply.

he put his hands on yours,

and they fit like pieces of an intricate puzzle.

enveloping your smaller ones completely, his hands guided yours to spread your pussy open. the cold air of your room hit your leaking slit, causing you to shudder in his arms.

“look at you glistening, baby.”

“my god,” he groaned, rubbing your hand (and his atop) into your slick.

you sighed into the feeling of your soft hands, mixed with his large, rough ones.

“show me how you please that little pussy.” he whispered in your ear, kissing your lobe.

you nodded, biting your lower lip at his vulgarity.

a lord, yet so crude.

you began toying with your clit, rubbing figure-eights on the swollen bud. Karl’s hands wasted no time in fondling your breasts— groping, squeezing, twisting your nipples, tugging at them— only adding more pleasure to the sensation.

“ease one in.”

you weren’t sure what he mumbled until he decided to take matters into his own hands (literally) and rubbed a finger against your slit.

you swore you forgot how to breath when the sharp sensation of the digit penetration was felt.

“Karl…” you moaned, relishing in the feel of being stretched open.

“what do you think about when you touch yourself?” he asked, velvety voice dripping honey on you.

simply answered, “you.”

he kissed your neck, “i know, bunny. but what in specific?”

“uh~”

“tell me.” he grunted, pushing another finger inside.

“y-your hands… i think about your fingers… inside me.”

you mewed hearing him groan in your ear, the subtle nuzzle of his head into your neck urged you to continue. “‘want nothing more than your cock pounding me— wanna be at your mercy, Karl!”

“fuck, baby,” Karl groaned at your vulgarity; even you were surprised at the profanities leaving your lips but the lust hazed cloud in your mind burst with rains of arousal.

“i’ll give what you want for being such a good girl.” he purred in your ear, discarding the drenched toy. your whine at the loss of contact turned into a gasp when he so carelessly threw away your toy to the corner of the room.

you looked up at him through your lashes, feigning faux offense at the abandonment of your favourite companion on a lonely night. “don’t worry,” assured Karl, grinning.

“you won’t be needin’ that no more.” he grinned, plunging two of his thick digits right into your core.

you were stretched like a spring at the hands of this rugged noble. he nuzzled his head into your collarbones, the rugged stubble adorning his handsome face prickling your soft flesh.

Karl bit, licked, sucked, and nibbled, while you writhed, moaned, shivered, and cried in ecstasy.

“such a naughty girl— ‘acting so noble and sophisticated all the time, but when Mama’s friend comes in sight, you start cussing like a sailor with the libido of a pervy sleazeball.” he chuckled at his own descriptions of you, while you hadn’t registered a word he said, simply clenching and unclenching around his experienced fingers, moaning his name with every haggard breath.

“c-close!” you hiccuped, tears staining your rosy face.

“god, you’re so beautiful.” Karl groaned, licking the shell of your ear. you shuddered, not knowing if it was at his lewd actions or the mere compliment.

Karl breathed in your scent, your sensual oud suppressed by the sweet fragrance of your arousal.

he pulled out his fingers.

you began crying.

“why…?” you sobbed, “because,” he explained.

“you’ve not been a very good host, baby girl— leaving your guest waiting like that. only fair you don’t get release this soon, hm?”

he cooed his justification and you weeped like you had committed the most heinous crime.

your hole fluttered around the damp, chill air of your room. gaping around the new nothingness that replaced the stuffed fulfilling treatment you were receiving prior.

“please, i’m sorry— i’m… i’ll do better next time—”

“next time?” Karl was quick to intervene.

“what makes you think there’ll be a ‘next time’?”

your glassy eyes widened, “please, Karl, i’m begging you.”

“hm…” he hunched over your shoulder, chin prodding into your shoulder blade while he looked over at you, nonchalantly. not even an ounce of remorse, amusement, if anything.

“okay. since Mommy taught you manners,”

he rammed his fingers back into your cunt, a look of devilish glee spread across his face.

in and out, in and out, in and curl.

you screamed when he hit that spongy spot inside of you, dead-on. Karl was quick to cover your mouth.

“now, now, we don’t want sweet ol’ Pasha hearing us, do we?” he slowed, referring to the chamberlain that’s often posted right outside your door. you shook your head, urging him to go faster like he was.

“good fucking girl,” he groaned, feeling you pulsate around his wrinkled fingers.

“give me a show, host. make it worth the hours you kept me waiting. ‘dry and hangin’.” he nudged your legs wider, further apart with his knees. the hand that covered your pretty lips now wrapped itself around your own hand.

a sweet moment that lasted mere seconds, he took your interlaced fingers and placed them on your clit, shaking your hand fervently.

your brows furrowed, vision blurred as you peaked. afraid you can’t let go, but he’ll make you.

he’ll make you lose control, just like he’s made you his.

with one last push, or shove of his fingers, he quickly pulled them out, and broke the dam of pleasure.

your slick gushed out of your drooling cunt, drenching everything, including the two of you, nearby.

Karl chuckled, triumphantly. still rubbing fervently at your overstimulated clit, urging more of your juices to squirt out.

“now, that’s a show, darling.” he chuckled, grabbing your flushed face by the chin and connecting your lips to a passionate, chaste kiss.

when you closed your legs, he slapped your thigh, causing you to wince and jerk them open.

“—the hell are you doing?” he asked, seemingly offeneded.

“are you kicking me out?” he raised a brow, a sarcastic smile threatening to break on his face.

“b-but i thought we were—”

“done? oh, no, baby. you left me alone in that dining room thrice this evening.”

“this was just the first of three.”

“now, ass up, face down.” he manhandled you in the blink of an eye.

“your guest’s gotta entertain himself.”

he chuckled, and you nearly choked when you felt something mean, and thick prodding at your abused folds.”

you were in for a long night with your guest.

pt. II. main masterlist. blog directory. COCKUETTE MASTERLIST.

#karl heisenberg #resident evil #resident evil village #lady dimitrescu #dimitrescu family #karl heisenburg x reader #karl heisenburg fanart #karl heisenberg x reader smut #resident evil smut #smut #dbf!#age g4p #yandere!karl heisenberg #voyerurism #cillivnz #lord dimitrescu #coquette #cockette #cockuette

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 9 months

Text

the breakfast

lilac, chapter two

a/n: when my love, @chvoswxtch, asked me to bring the horny energy of miss patty from gilmore girls, of course I fucking did it, I'm not a criminal, that's what we all deserve

summary: “well, hello stranger.”

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, lumberjack AU, pete castiglione era, past domestic violence, crazy ex trope, slow burn, wholesome villagers being adorable

word count: 2373

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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The Lilac Inn wasn’t just an inn to the citizens of Dunbrook. It was its beating heart, a hub for the small community to gather.

As the town’s only culinary establishment, the residents had always made a habit of eating a fair amount of their meals in the inn’s dining room, the door to the kitchen often staying wide open so that Harvey wouldn’t have to leave the stove in order to catch all of the juicy small-town gossip that had people blabbering.

“Dad, did you turn off my alarm?” you snapped as soon as your scurrying feet carried you into the bustling kitchen.

Not lifting his eyes from the loaf of bread he was currently slicing, your dad simply countered with a jovial, “well, good morning to you too, sleeping beauty!”

“Dad,” you sighed, jaw clenching at his usual demeanour, the paralysing dream you’d just roused from not setting you up to be in the right mood for such a level of positivity.

“You just looked like you could use the extra hour or two,” a smile still warm on his lips, the middle-aged man defensively raised his hands.

“But I’m supposed to help you out,” your eyes followed his movements as he trotted towards the stove, “I can’t do that if I’m asleep.”

“Exactly,” your dad passed by a hook full of tangled textiles and tossed you an apron, “that’s why I let you go a little longer so that you wouldn’t doze off on me before lunchtime arrives.”

“I wouldn’t have dozed off…” you mumbled pettily as you tied the linen around your waist. Exhaling lowly as you watched him crack two eggs into a sizzling skillet, you asked, “what can I do?”

“Well for starters,” he tossed the shells into a small scrap bowl to his side, “these were the last eggs, so if you could go get some more out by the front desk, that would be superb.”

“Why do you have eggs on the front desk?”

“Because Otto’s chickens are laying a lot right now and so he told me he’d give me some today when he swung by for breakfast.”

“Wait, Sheriff Nilsen has chickens now?”

“Yeah, has for a long time,” the decade of you not living here grew palpable, “he usually just drops the extra ones off here, so they should already be there because I just took his order two minutes ago.”

“Alright,” you disappeared through the back door and snaked down the narrow corridor, ending up behind the messy reception area.

Your eyes didn’t have to search for long before you noticed the petite basket, brimming with beige eggs, resting on the top of the counter right beside the small rolodex that displayed what date it was. Grasping it in your hand, your vision momentarily drifted down to the small, framed photo nuzzled behind the ever-open logbook. Sitting on the swing that still hung from one of the sturdy trees out back, head adorably posed in a tiny palm, there a 7-year-old version of you sat, forever frozen in that singular moment, beaming up at the camera.

“Ah!” a sharp voice boomed as you heard the front door swing shut, “oh my goodness, oh my god! Y/n!”

Raising your chin, your eyes grew wide at the rotund woman beaming at you from the doormat, “miss Rays!” you hurried around the front desk, “oh my god, it’s been so long!”

Capturing you in a hug, she pressed your form into her bosom, “darling, we’re not in bed together, call me Donna.”

Pulling back with a light chuckle, your eyes fluttered over her features, “you haven’t changed one bit,” her lipstick still a fiery shade red and hair still short and feathery framing her plump cheeks.

“You however have,” she clasped your free hand in hers, guiding your figure to give her a good view, “oh, do a little spin for me,” you bashfully obliged with a giggle, “yes! Honey, who is this woman, what have you done with the adorable little girl I used to tutor?”

To your knowledge, Dunbrook never really had a proper school, but for as long as you could recall Donna had always operated as a teacher to the handful of children that called the reclusive mountain village their home. Even though it was just run out of her living room, she had still been the best teacher you’d ever had, her patient way rivalling any of the professors you had to endure when you went off for college. As a matter of fact, she had been the person who’d pushed you to send in the application, praising that you were too clever not to go out and change the world.

“Oh, stop it,” you sighed light-heartedly, a chuckle still bubbling out of your chest as you shifted the subject away from your own appearance, “so, you still come here for breakfast?”

“Of course, I do, you’ve tasted your father’s cooking,” readjusting her purse, she hooked her arm in yours, “a real shame that he’s never accepted any of my offers of becoming your stepmom,” she leaned in to add as you crossed over the threshold into the dinner room, “I could have been served all my meals in bed like some Egyptian queen!”

“I’m sure you can easily find another fellow that can handle himself in the kitchen,” the click-clack of her heels came to a stop by one of the small round tables, her eyes briefly taking in the other patrons before a slight crease appeared betwixt her polished brows.

“Oh, darn it,” her vision stayed glued to the table in the corner as she lowered herself onto her seat, “he’s not sitting at his usual table…”

“Who?”

“The eye candy over there,” she tilted her chin in the direction of the broad, muted flannel-clad back of the man sitting by the window furthest down at the bottom of the room, “you see, I asked your dear father to always reserve this spot for me just so that I can have a great view, if you know what I mean…” gulping down the rest of his coffee, the man’s head tilted enough for you to recognise whom the rugged looking visage belonged to, “oh boy, I tell you, if I was 30 years younger…”

Haven assumed that you’d never again run into the stranger who’d helped you just the day before, a warm flutter suddenly trickled down your spine, “like that’s ever stopped you before,” you pointed out, snapping your eyes out of their trance, “so, uh, do you know what you want to eat or do you just want some coffee or something while you think on it?” you took two steps towards the oblong table where mismatched teacups where stacked and the steam of a few thermoses, all containing a different hot beverage then the next, billowed out.

“Some coffee would be lovely,” she smiled as you with one hand snatched up a mug and the decanter labelled as such, “and some oatmeal if you don’t mind, sweetie.”

Promptly pouring her a cup, you then signed off with a wink, “you got it,” before your vision landed upon the latest of Donna’s abundant infatuations once more.

Attempting to make the short journey seem spontaneous and effortless, you bounced from table to table, topping off people's cups, before reaching the final one.

Drawing in a deep breath, your embarrassingly giddy voice then found his ears, “well, hello stranger.”

Eyes flickering away from the newspaper sprawled out before him, a look of shock washed over his gruff features as he glanced up at you, “oh, hi.”

“Pete–, it is Pete, right?” you checked, slight mortification beginning to brew within your belly.

“Yes, ma'am,” his head nodded ever so slightly.

“Do you want a refill, Pete?” you savoured the taste of his name on your tongue.

“Sorry?” his brows furrowed at your offer.

“Your coffee,” you pointed with the hand that clutched the handle of the thermos, “do you want some more?”

“Oh,” he breathed, though the puzzled look didn’t seem to fade, “yes, always.”

Leaning in slightly over the newspaper, you filled up the drained mug, only a murky ring at the bottom indicating what it had previously contained, “and can I get you something to eat as well?”

Eyes narrowing, he stared up at you, “is your vacation really already so boring that you got a job here or what?”

“Oh,” you couldn’t help but breathe out a light chuckle as you answered, “I’m not on vacation and I guess, kinda,” staring back into his eyes as you attempted to repeat your question, “so, do you want any–,” though before you could finish the sentence, out pranced your father, a plate of food balanced in his palm.

“2 eggs sunny side up and some sourdough toast, as per usual,” he sang as his long arm came down to slice the air between your forms, placing the dish upon the table.

Briefly catching his eye, Pete then offered a polite nod of gratitude, “thank you,” folding the paper up and scooting the meal closer.

Feeling the small basket of eggs disappear from your grip, you blinked back at your father as he softly requested in your ear, “honey, could you give me a hand in the back when you’re done out here?”

“Sure, dad,” you flashed him a smile before watching him disappear once more.

Feet still glued to the floorboards right by Pete’s table, your vision then returned to him as his deep voice washed over you, “so, you’re Harvey’s kid, then?”

“Yep, that’s my dad,” your balance briefly shifted as you rocked on the balls of your feet, “thank you, by the way, for yesterday.”

“Oh, it’s no problem,” his fork punctured one of the golden yokes, “how’s your car looking?”

“I don’t really know yet. The local mechanic is taking a look today, so fingers crossed it’s not anything too catastrophic,” you felt your palms begin to sweat as he simply stared up at you in silence, “anyhow,” you averted your gaze nervously, “I’ll stop bothering you, let eat in peace,” you nearly bumped into the chair behind you as you backed up towards the kitchen, the near accident not managing to draw any words out of him, only the hint of a smile twitched at the corner of his lips, “see you around, I guess…”

“Hey, dad?”

Briefly raising his eyes from the logbook cracked open on the wooden counter, he glanced up at you as you bounced down the wide staircase, “yeah, pumpkin?”

Hand tracing the railing, with the aid of the grip, you swung your form around the last post as you ascended the final step, “did you know that the hot water doesn’t work? Like at all.”

“Yeah, that and about a million other things around here,” he sighed, vision returning to the ledger as you rested your folded-up arms upon the top of the reception, “this is a beautiful historic building… and what I mean by that is that there are too many things that either don’t work the way they should or at all. I am not a millionaire, honey. If I was, then the issues wouldn’t be piling up the way that they are…”

Bottom lip snug between your teeth, your mind raced a moment before you quietly theorised, “exactly how long is that list?”

Eyes racing to find your eyes, your father joked, “why? Did you become a contractor while living in New York or something?”

“No, but I was always the handy one out of the two of us,” you noted before your shoulders raised in an innocent shrug, “how hard could it be?”

“Let me get this right,” he raised a palm up between you as his eyes crinkled even further, “you’re telling me you wanna try and patch this place up?”

“Well, it couldn’t hurt the business side of things. When was the last time you booked out more than two rooms at a time here?”

“Oh, no, no,” the moustachioed man then began to shake his head, “you’re not turning this place into some fake, glossy tourist attraction.”

Swinging around to his side of the counter, you assured him, “hey, I’m not saying let's flood this place with tourists, but maybe just a handful more?” tilting your head in an attempt to catch his gaze that had now returned to the open book, “just enough to make ends meet, perhaps also enough to at some point hire someone else so that you won’t work yourself to death…”

Eyes frozen on the page before him, a long exhale then flowed from his lungs as he deliberated.

“Alright, fine, yeah, I guess that wouldn’t be that bad…” he tried to downplay the smile that blossomed upon his lips.

Spine pressed against the edge of the front desk, you then braced with your palms and hauled yourself up onto the spot that was just clear enough for you to sit there without knocking any knickknacks over.

“So,” you drew out, searching for a new topic to explore, “Donna seems to be quite set on that guy Pete to be her new husband, huh?”

“Oh, yeah,” Harvey chortled, “but you know her, she’s like a dog spotting a pheasant every time she sees a new man. I think genuinely I might be the only person in town who isn’t either terrified of him or has some desire to sleep with him.”

“How long has he been here anyway?”

“Eh,” he glanced up at the stained glass adorning the front door as he thought, “maybe a year or two? He mostly keeps to himself, lives up in a cabin in the woods and only really comes down here to either provide some firewood to whoever needs it or have some coffee,” vision landing on you, he then noted, “you however seemed to have broken through to him quite quickly. Took me like 5 months to get anything more than a grunt of recognition out of him.”

“Oh,” you couldn’t stop your eyebrows as they promptly rose up, “well, he kinda helped me the day that I got here. He was the guy I caught a ride with…”

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