#but i always wondered silver is not a house color or is it?

[thequeenwechoose]

Rhaenyra Targaryen's silver red maternity dress in 4k

[erwinsvow]

shy reader sending rafe nudes for the first time🫢

rafe was so nice to you. his new favorite hobby seemed to be spoiling you—it seemed there was an endless influx of shopping trips and things getting delivered to your house after being mentioned once. you don't know how he always got it right, the exact color you wanted or the perfect size. especially when you weren't even sure which style was the best or were having trouble picking between two. rafe would decide for you, usually picking right or just ending up buying both.

he was very good at this whole thing, and though you had trouble accepting his genoursity at first, you felt you were growing into it quite nicely.

the constant denial that you wanted something turned into a sweet, grateful smile when rafe offered to get it. worrying about how expensive something was long-forgotten, instead you gave rafe a kiss on the cheek instead of mentioning it.

and the best part was that he liked it, liked taking care of you, liked making sure you had the things you wanted. he'd even gotten a shiny silver credit card with his name on it, had insisted that you use it for things.

"what kinda man am i, huh? if my girl has to buy herself nice things. that's no way to treat your best girl, huh?"

mostly he just wanted to hear you call yourself his girl, but it was getting easier and easier to swipe it out and about.

you fell into the trap of the saleswoman at the lingerie store—you'd come once before to buy some nighties when you started sleeping over at tannyhill every single night. you'd handed her the silver card, thinking about what rafe had in store for you if you showed up wearing what you'd just bought, when she snapped you out of it

"is that all for today mrs. cameron?"

she'd transported you into a completely different spiral. so you had returned with a craving to hear yourself be called that again, buying anything and everything that caught your eye, but mostly things that you thought rafe would like.

on your way out, still elated from the sheer headrush of being called mrs. cameron, you don't even notice the missed call and texts from rafe, not until you get home and put on the first of many new outfits.

rafey: what the hell is la perla. the fuck did you buy for $500??

dolled up in your new outfit, you angle yourself to snap a couple of pictures with your phone, the first showing your tits spilling out of the pretty, floral bra and panty set. then you laid down, trying to capture your ass and the best arch you could manage without rafe there to push your back for you. trying on another thing you'd bought, this time a pretty white babydoll, you take a selfie showing just enough of the fabric.

sending the photos without any caption, you wait patiently for the response. but seconds turn into minutes, minutes into ten and twenty, while you wonder if you overstepped, if rafe was displeased at your purchases, at the waste of money.

rafe opens the door so hard it slams, and you flinch.

"get on the bed. now." like always, you comply. you guess he wasn't so mad after all.

[mybeautifuldelirium]

You have no idea how excited I got when I saw you posted about Aemond Targaryen requests ❤️ can I request a. story with him and reader Where he gets jealous. Like a Lord from a different house keeps trying to get her hand in marriage. Also the reader grew up in castle and has been his best friend since babies.

You Belong To Me || Aemond Targaryen x Reader

A/N: so I slightly diverted from the request, but the overall premise is pretty much the same :) hope you enjoy

Summary: Aemond and the reader have been best friends since childhood, however Y/N’s desire to find a husband awakens extreme jealousy in the prince, making him realize his feelings for her. But what if it’s too late?

Warnings: Angst, Jealousy, Fluff end

Growing up, Aemond never really had any friends. It made perfect sense to him, he was a prince above all and after years of putting up with his brother’s and nephews’ cruel pranks, he had long ago stopped trusting most people. However lady Y/N was a rare exception, the daughter of a northern lord who had sent her as a lady in waiting to princess Helaena, in hopes of her finding a noble husband, when the day comes.

During those years by the chance of fate Y/N had grown very close to the younger prince. She’d be the first to console him after the numerous times his brother would try to humiliate him and when he lost his eye, Y/N would sneak into his chambers every night to tell him stories until he’d fall asleep, much to the disapproval of her septa. Even Queen Alicent, soon after the incident, grew fond of the northern girl, who was always by Aemond's side. Like any mother would, she found comfort in the thoughts that her beloved son had someone to care for him.

Years had passed, despite the loss of his eye, the younger prince had grown into a dangerous swordsman and Y/N had flowered into a beautiful young maiden, still full of hope and dreams. And though the two couldn't spend as much time together, they still deeply cared for each other.

It was a bright sunny day in King’s Landing and Y/N was accompanying princess Helaena on her daily walk through the lavish gardens. The girls were so caught up in their sweet talks that they almost didn’t notice the two silver haired princes approaching them.

“Ah there you are, dear sister. Excited for the upcoming feast in honor of your wedding with Aegon, I assume” Aemond smirked at Helaena, making his brother scoff at the reminder.

“Gods, the wedding” Y/N beamed “I wonder when will my turn come, what if I meet someone at the feast”

Suddenly Aemond’s whole demeanor dropped, those words struck him like an arrow. Of course like any young lady, Y/N would dream of meeting her future husband, he knew that day would eventually come, but for so many years he had subconsciously chosen to ignore these thoughts.

It was the day of Helaena and Aegon’s wedding. Earlier that day, Y/N had helped the princess ready herself. While she was gently placing the ornate garments on Helaena frame, Y/N couldn’t help but let her imagination wander to the day of her own wedding. Ever since a child, she had dreamed of that moment, but as the years went by, her hopes of it coming to fruition were slowly fading away. Not long ago she had come of age and yet not a single marriage proposal or even an attempt at courting had come upon her. Aemond was like her shadow, the only man she had spoken to and his presence seemed to prove effective in scaring any possible suitors away.

This night, however, Y/N was determined to find herself a betrothed, she had to, or her impatient father would soon marry her off to some old cruel northern lord in hopes for an alliance. She carefully picked up the dress Queen Alicent had sent her, it was a deep emerald green color with delicate gold embroidery across the bodice. Y/N smiled to herself, having grown up without her mother, made her really grateful for having Alicent by her side.

The royal wedding was a grandiose affair, tables lavishly decorated with exotic flowers and the finest gold cutlery. Nobles from the far east and highborns from all across the seven kingdoms had come to pay their respects. It was clear that the queen wanted this event to be remembered.

Y/N sat in awe of the scenery before her, indulging in the stories of the foreign ladies sitting beside her, that’s when she noticed Aemond, standing by one of the decorated pillars and she could swear he was stealing glances at her. Oh how she wanted to go and talk with him, her closest friend, but Y/N knew that if she did, all her chances of finally finding a suitor would be damned.

“Care for a dance, my lady” Y/N was suddenly shaken from her thoughts. A man with golden curls and piercing green eyes was extending his hand to her. ‘A Lannister, perhaps’ she thought to herself. The maiden happily accepted his offer, it looked like luck was at last upon her.

She spent the whole night dancing and talking to the Lannister lord, she quite enjoyed his company, though she had to admit none of it could compare to the company of her prince. What she didn’t know, however, was that throughout her whole time with the lord, Aemond was staring daggers at them. The one eyed prince couldn’t explain it, but a burning rage was building up inside him. The sight of another man touching Y/N, his Y/N was so antagonizing, he hadn’t noticed how strongly he was gripping the handle of his sword, oh how he wanted to slice it through the golden bastard. He was trying to keep his composure, but once he saw the couple heading outside to the gardens, he could no longer contain himself, he got up and followed them, anger mixed with jealousy clouding his vision.

The night sky was clear, thousands of stars glistening like diamonds. Y/N was beaming, walking by the lion, smiling and talking about her dreams of the future. This fairytale moment, however, was shortly cut by no other than the dragon prince himself, her Aemond.

“Y/N, come, let’s go” he scowled, looking her directly in the eyes. But before the puzzled girl was able to respond, the Lannister man stepped forward “And why should she listen to you? As far as I’ve heard, she’s not your betrothed, she does not belong to you” he laughed.

These words awoke a whole new level of rage in the young prince, furious, he took out his sword and pointed it at the man’s chest, making Y/N let out a frightened squeal “Aemond, don’t” she pleaded.

“You know who I am, don’t you, you pest” the prince hissed at the lion, without putting down his weapon. “Dare you say another word, none of your Lannister gold will be able to save your life from my dragon” this threat undoubtedly scared the man as he turned around and headed back to the feast, without a word.

“Why? Why did you do this” Y/N whispered on the verge of tears. “I thought you were my friend, I thought you wanted me to be happy”

“Come, let’s go inside” Aemond sighed, taking her hand in his.

“NO” the girl protested “All these years I’ve been by your side, I’ve done everything for you to be happy and this is what you do to me? All I wanted was just to be happy!”

“He doesn't deserve you, he is NOT the one for you” the prince snapped.

“Oh, and who is then? Some old ugly lord, that my father is going to marry me off to and-” her words were suddenly cut off by a soft pair of lips on top of hers. Y/N was caught completely off guard, memories of their childhood flooding back, but it didn’t take her long to return the kiss, instantly clasping her hands around his neck. That kiss was full of longing, it was a release for all these feelings they’ve had developed for each other throughout the many years. It now all made perfect sense to Y/N, all these years she had spent imagining her future spouse, too scared to think of the one she truly desired, her dragon, her Aemond.

Once out of breath, they pulled away, resting their foreheads together.

“Me, you belong to me” Aemond whispered, gently caressing her cheek.

[dilatorywriting]

Hi hi! So this is a request for the 4k followers thing and if it sounds like word vomit I apologize cuz I have no idea how to word this. Could I ask for prompt 10 ("I think we should go to dinner first.") with mc x azul? The scenario here is like that one twitter post that was going around awhile ago about how a falls first but b falls harder, with a being azul and how once he realizes his feelings he resigns himself to forever pining from afar bc he's convinced himself that any relationship between them would be doomed to failure since mc is from another world and would have to go home someday. But while mc is a bit dense when it comes to their own romantic feelings they've always been an upfront person and as soon as they realize they like him they kinda just,,,, barge into his office and say so, and I feel like the sentence prompt would be said by azul after a pretty intense make out session (maybe nothing spicy spicy but yeah) where at the end oh yeah he remembers he's a gentleman

Also after a bit of searching I found the twitter post I was talking about

Gender Neutral Reader x Azul Ashengrotto Word Count: 1.5k

Prompt 10: "I-I think we should go for dinner first."

[EVENT MASTERLIST]

Azul had been avoiding you.

Which was so strange and wholly out of character that the first few days of it went by in a weird sort of fugue. You hadn’t even noticed an entire week had passed in blissful, mafioso-free silence until you were heading to your Friday night shift at the Lounge and realized you hadn’t seen your favorite octopus even once. Normally the House Warden was fluttering around you like a scam artist to an old folks’ home. Poking, and prodding, and ‘ah, Prefect, I know you weren’t a fan of the last contract, but perhaps this one would suffice, hmm?’

And when you arrived in the little, employee-only locker room—still fully unbothered and not offered even a single opportunity to sell your soul—you wondered if maybe he’d gotten sick.

You were in the middle of taking some Savanaclaw student’s order when you finally saw him at all. Just a quick glance out of the corner of your eye to catch his shining, silver head of hair popping into his office. You smiled brightly and offered a wave. But Azul only went stiff and closed the door with a bang.

Which was…

Huh.

“Is Azul feeling okay?” you asked Jade between running an armload of drinks to a table of Pomefiore students.

The eel hummed and gave you one of those smiles that never really looked like it was meant to be a smile. “Our fearless leader is clinically sound.”

You frowned. Because that felt like one of the Vice Warden’s non-answers that he’d throw your way sometimes like a taller, meaner older sibling holding your favorite toy just out of reach.

“So he’s alright?” you pressed, hesitant.

“Oh, I never said that,” he chirped pleasantly, before ducking off to go catch the stack of plates that Floyd was in the process of juggling through the kitchen.

The bubbling panic popping in your gut was the worst sort of tummy ache. The kind that spread its miserable pain until it’d left your chest hurting, and head spinning, and something deeply wrong throbbing at the heart of you. Because Azul, despite his inherent tendencies to treat you like a particularly stupid pack mule, was still your best friend. The person you cared about most in all the world! Sure, he enjoyed bamboozling you and your fellow students, but, like he hadn’t done anything genuinely malicious in ages now! Like a paid hitman retiring into selling seedy vacation timeshares.

The idea of him just—just not wanting you anymore struck something horrible in you. Of finally realizing that the silly little human from worlds unknown wasn’t worth the wobbly pair of legs you were standing on. And it left you feeling small, and afraid, and—and—

“Oh? Are you feeling unwell, Prefect?” Jade called from somewhere behind you.

“Does Azul hate me?” you blurted out before you could help yourself.

The eel blinked his bi-colored eyes at you—slow and unbothered. Perhaps a bit surprised, if you had to put a name to the expression. Jade’s face was like that sometimes. An enigma. Like someone had wired him up just slightly wrong when putting it all together. On any other living creature, that sap-slow nonchalance would have certainly bordered on outright boredom, but you knew him well enough to know there was at least something else going on there.

“Why would he hate you?” he asked, equally dripping and slug slow.

“Because—!” you squawked, and waved your hands around your head. “Because!”

“I see,” he nodded. And then latched a gloved hand onto your shoulder and steered you back towards his boss’s office. He didn’t even bother to knock before wrenching the door open and shoving you inside.

Azul looked up with a start, eyes gone wide behind his glasses and jaw slack.

“What’s going—”

“The Prefect is on the verge of psychotic break,” Jade chirped helpfully, with a closed-eyed smile. “Please be delicate with them, hmm?”

And then slammed the door shut all over again. Leaving you alone with the guy who might have only very recently started to hate your guts. Or—or maybe he always had! And maybe you’d just been really, really dumb about picking it up! You wanted to scream. Or hide away forever. Azul looked like the latter was an exceptionally tempting idea, and you could see his blue eyes flicker around the room like he was looking for an escape route.

But the idea of him running away from you, that you’d never see him again—that he didn’t want to ever see you again—had something horribly enlightening clicking into place in your brain.

“Are you okay!” you asked, so loud it nearly rattled the furniture. And Azul flinched in surprise. “Did I do something wrong!”

“What?” he blinked, startled. “Of… Of course not.” He cleared his throat and stood carefully, making his way towards you in the manner one may approach a rabid racoon hiding under their porch. “Perhaps you should take a seat—”

“I can’t!” you cried, frantic. “Not if you’re upset!”

Another of those owlish, outright consternated bouts of blinking. “You can’t sit?”

“No!” you wailed. That prickling, hot, tight feeling nearly overflowing out of you. “Not if it’s my fault!”

His expression twisted up into something mulish and embarrassed, and he reached up to push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose with a soft huff.

“…it’s hardly your fault,” he said, sounding so stupidly sad that you just wanted to—to—

“How can I fix it?” you tried, panicked. Because he didn’t want to be around you anymore, and you couldn’t lose him. You couldn’t!

Azul sighed, gaze shifting away yet again. He offered you a tight, little smile that felt like all sorts of lies. “It’s alright, Prefect. Truly. It’s just something…” he trailed off, that forced smirk twitching off his lips like he couldn’t help it. “Something I’m learning to live with, hmm? Nothing terrible, I promise.”

“You shouldn’t have to live with something that’s bothering you,” you argued, firm. “You’re the king of fixing other people’s problems. You’re more than allowed to use all those connections and stuff to fix your own!”

“I’m afraid it doesn’t really work like that,” he tried, awkward, and you steamrolled on.

“Why not?! You’re amazing! And fantastic! And I love you so much, and you should never have to be upset about anything. And if you’re not in my life for the rest of my life, I’d rather die!” you wailed, and gasped—clapping your hands together like the idea that had just blossomed in your skull was just beyond brilliant. “We should get married!” And then, to sweeten the deal, “Think of the tax benefits!”

“I—” Azul choked, going as red as a tomato. “Y-You—”

“—love you very much!” you finished helpfully.

He ducked his face into his hands, like he could scrub the blush right off his cheeks if he tried hard enough.

“Y-You can’t—” he spluttered into his gloves. “You can’t just say things like that.”

“Why not?” you demanded. “It’s true!”

Azul’s shoulders hunched up like he was trying make himself very, very small. And then after a long moment of near hyperventilating into his palms, he finally looked back over at you from behind the shield of his fingers.

“You…” he swallowed. “You love me?”

You nodded, certain. Becauese what else could that warm, bright, all-consuming thing be in your chest be but that?

“You,” he said again. “Love me?”

“Yes,” you agreed, never more sure of anything than that. “And we should get married.”

Azul choked again and went back to hiding behind his fingers.

“Unless…” you started, trailing off as something horrible and unsure squirmed through your chest. “Unless you don’t want to, of course. It should be your choice too. Just because I love you, doesn’t mean you have to love me, y’know?”

“That’s not what I said!” he squawked, head snapping back up so fast he nearly knocked the glasses off his face. And then he went red all over again, all the way to the tips of his ears, and he was reaching up to pull the rim of his hat down over his eyes with a curse. “I just…” he began, muffled behind the fabric of his overcoat. “Maybe… dinner first?” he choked. “Before the proposal.”

“Oh,” you blinked, startled. “Of course. That makes sense.”

“That makes sense,” Azul echoed, sounding like you’d come up from behind him and walloped him with a baseball bat rather than just suggested a completely rational and beneficial mutual engagement. “I… I don’t know why I’m surprised at all.”

You quirked a brow. “Were you… expecting me to say that?” you asked confused.

This time he did look back up at you fully. Hands lowered, and the shield of his collar gone and all. The smile he sent you was small but so, heartachingly warm that it had butterflies dancing in your stomach.

“No,” he hummed, sounding impossibly pleased. “I really, really wasn’t.”

.

.

[comatosebunny09]

Inspired by @sserpente’s The Sunwalker’s Gift.

Imagine being a shopkeeper, selling heirlooms and antiques in a quaint mom-and-pop shop.

Business is incredibly slow. You find yourself flipping through the worn, deckled pages of a book, your chin cradled in your palm. There is nary a customer in sight. Not since that new, mainstream jewelry store popped up down the street.

You’re about to close up shop early to enjoy what’s left of the day—it’s lovely outside. Too pretty to be tucked between these browning walls. But the jangle of the store’s bell lures your attention to the door.

Finally.

You look up as you prepare to greet the store’s newest occupant. But you forget how to talk—forget how to breathe—rooted to the floor like a basilisk has petrified you.

He’s ethereal amid the sunbeams pouring into your tiny store. All wintry-skinned, thin, and tall, dark lenses perched on his sharp nose. Rounded cheeks, petal-pink lips, and foxlike features.

His hair is what entrances you. Swaying like snowflakes in the breeze, and you wonder if it’s as soft as the snow it resembles. Vaguely, you register it sifting through your fingers, smell it exuding the faintest hints of rosemary and firewood.

The stranger surveys your shop, one hand tucked in his pants pocket, the other holding onto an oversized coat. Even his stance is princely. Nothing captures his attention for too long as he peruses through your wares, feigning interest in your rickety things.

You suddenly feel insecure; small—he strikes a picturesque figure amid the dusty antiques lining your shelves. The store across the way would probably suit someone so devastatingly beautiful better.

Nevertheless, you remember how to speak. Square your shoulders, plastering on your most welcoming grin despite your nerves exploding like solar flares beneath your skin.

After smoothing out the wrinkles of your attire, you offer the customer a warm, rehearsed “Welcome!”

He perks up at the sound of your voice. Lips twitch into a half smile, silver brows lifting slightly. Your heart hiccups at the sight.

The stranger saunters towards the counter, carrying with him the scent of bergamot and brushed sage. It’s a homely scent. Somehow nostalgic as he leans towards you, tilting his shades down to ingest you with eyes the color of smoldering coals.

“Good afternoon, love,” he drawls, his accent thick with regality. The purr of it causes your body to flood with warmth. It’s almost dizzying, the ground shifting beneath your feet.

You swallow, your throat thickening with your voice. “What brings you in today?”

“Actually.” He looks thoughtful, a long finger tapping his chin. Suddenly, he snaps his fingers like all the world’s secrets bare themselves to him. “Maybe you can help me with something.”

You watch with bated breath whilst the stranger retrieves something from his coat pocket. It catches in the sunlight. Glints a pretty ruby red as he places it on the display counter with a resounding clack.

“I’ve been trying to part ways with the damned thing for ages. Yet somehow, it always finds its way back to me.” His gaze is far off for the barest of seconds before he replaces it with a nonchalant shrug, waggling his hand dismissively. “It’s long since served its purpose. An antique, if you will. I wondered how much it would go for if it still holds any value.”

He speaks of it so contemptuously. As if it’s been a burden to carry all this time. But it’s beautiful in its simplicity. Tarnished gold, carved with intricate runes you can’t quite decipher. It houses a gorgeous crimson stone that seems to hum and swirl with energy—with power. Perhaps it’s a trick of the light or your nerves causing you to hallucinate.

You’re delicate as you hold it against the sun’s rays, further studying its design. In your peripheral, you capture the stranger’s eyes, regarding you with something you can’t quite place. Disdain? Curiosity? Fondness? Whatever it is, it unnerves you. Makes your mouth fill with sand as you clutch the ring in your palm, intending to scrutinize it some more in the back. It radiates against your flesh despite it being so frigid.

“I’ll have to take a more thorough look at it,” you conclude, masking your shakiness. You muster another smile. “Would you like some tea in the meantime? It may take a while to appraise it properly.”

“No thank you, darling,” replies the fair-skinned stranger, leaning against your counter in an easy slouch. His smirk is back, boasting what you mistake for a fang, peeking through the plushness of his lips. “Never had a taste for the stuff.”

“Coffee your thing?”

“Gods no.”

“Water?”

He waves you off with a quiet scoff, venturing away to prod and examine the other little trinkets in your shop.

“Take all the time you need, love. I’ve nothing but time to spare. And, by the looks of it, so do you.” He eyes you over his shoulder with mirth gracing his countenance. A flash of affection colors his gaze before he busies himself again.

You huff a laugh at his peculiar mannerisms, disappearing behind the curtain of the back room to fetch your jewelers loupe. All the while, your mind swims with wistfulness.

You can't help but feel like the handsome stranger who’d fatefully wandered into your shop is watching you, burrowing deep into your soul, even through the thick veil of your curtain.

masterlist

[thewickedspinster]

Of Eternity (Thranduil x Reader)

pairing: Thranduil x F!Reader

synopsis: Thranduil and Y/N know each other from what seems like a past life; one that both would rather forget. Once secret lovers, hidden from the prying eyes of the Elvenking's court, the two elves' disagreements became too much, their opinions too divided. Y/N departed for Rivendell and sought shelter with her friend, Elrond. But when the Elvenking of Mirkwood comes to parlay with the Lord of Rivendell, he once again meets Y/N, and someone else who looks awfully familiar...

warnings: afab!Reader, pregnancy, elf children, war

Tathrenion = son of one willow-made

requested by @starlight5cat

Of Eternity

In Rivendell, the seasons turned as flowers bloomed; with a sudden burst of color against the greys of winter. They came and went quickly for elvenkind, rising and eddying like the tide, and with them came new wonders and sounds, new flavors. Song.

Y/N could hardly remember a time when her life was not dictated by these rhythms, when time was so magnified as to hear her own heartbeat, to watch the sunlight catch upon a dewdrop. Though, it was not so long ago she was in a place where seasons hardly touched, where time stood still and light lingered in honeyed moments. Where her breath raced in her body, and youth stretched into eternity. Where naïveté was all too familiar.

Here, she had more responsibility. Here, she was unequivocally welcome. When she had fled the confines of her life before in Mirkwood, where she had been daughter of a Ñoldor house descended from Fingolfin, and gone westward into the Misty Mountains, she had only hoped her old friend, Elrond, would grant her sanctuary. He welcomed her with open arms. Here, she sat on his council of advisors. Here, life was warm and full of light once more.

For a short time of twenty-odd years, there was peace east of the Misty Mountains. Though her cousin Galadriel could not believe it, it had appeared the dark servant of Morgoth named Sauron had been vanquished. The grey elves lived in peace with the sons of Durin and helped the wayward man, but kept to their forests and their mountains. All had seemed well, and with the protection of the haven of Rivendell, the darkness of old seemed unable to touch her.

Such comforts cannot last. Not so long as Morgoth and his fell creations plagued Arda.

As soon as word reached Rivendell of a darkness fallen upon southern Mirkwood, Elrond sought Y/N's counsel.

"You know the eastern forests well," Elrond said softly, guiding them both down towards the river. Water fell in a gentle curtain of silver ahead, glinting in the moonlight. "What sort of evil could cause these things?"

The pair ducked behind the waterfall, and the sound of rushing water hushed their voices. There hidden was an alcove, large enough for a small group, with cushions surrounding the burnt-out embers of a fire. Elrond had come here often in the early days of ruling Rivendell, and when Y/N had arrived, had brought her here in her most vulnerable moments.

"The Elvenking's Halls are to the north, but in my many wanderings, I went south," she answered, settling on the floor alongside Elrond. "Mirkwood is vast and its creatures untold, but I have never seen anything that would produce this sort of rot."

Elrond hummed, deep in thought. Elven and human messengers alike had been passing along rumors of dark creatures in the southern Mirkwood, things that walked on more than four legs, with slavering maws and the stench of evil surrounding them. Elves who more often ventured south returned with harrowing stories of voices, of song coming from the dark trees. The canopies had grown so thick that sunlight hardly reached the ground. Some had even reported sightings of Orcs.

"You know what this means," Y/N said, interrupting Elrond's reverie. "Galadriel was right. She was always right. We cannot know that Sauron is vanquished. We burned no body. Isildur brought no head. Only the Silmaril."

"There are no credible rumors of Morgoth's creatures, Y/N."

"There are," she insisted. "They have started calling this force 'The Necromancer.' This is no coincidence, Elrond. All evil in these lands comes back to Sauron. To Morgoth. So long as their discord remains, none of the children of Eru are safe."

Beyond his red head, with his noble face, the silvered water fell in sheets, dulling to a gentle sheaving. Waiting. When he raised his gaze, he said, "What would you have me do?"

Galadriel would have them go to war. Though she had grown less brash since the last age, she had grown no less desperate for Sauron's defeat. But Rivendell was a haven, a place of peace for wandering elves. She could not see amassing forces and marching to Mirkwood unaided. Besides, it was not Elrond's territory to march on.

"You know exactly what you must do, my friend," she said at last.

"You do not like him."

"What of it?"

"He is the reason you fled your home."

It was true enough, though it still gave Y/N pause. Mirkwood had been a home for long centuries, it was true. But before that, she had known the lushness of Beleriand, and the glory of Númenor. She would always be a wanderer. But the Elvenking of Mirkwood brought with him memories too fresh to be painless.

"He is the lord of Mirkwood, and should you wish to do anything at all about this rising evil, you must first confer with him," she said firmly. "Invite him here. Invite his entire court. They will leave Prince Legolas to guard the north, but Thranduil will come."

"I would have you by my side upon his reception."

Y/N caught the glimmer of ancient mischief in Elrond's eyes, and offered him a faint smile in return. "It would be an honor."

~~~

Word came within a fortnight that the Elvenking's party would embark on the Elf-path by the full moon. This gave the people of Rivendell little time to prepare, but showed Elrond and his council how dire circumstances were in Mirkwood.

As Y/N stood at Elrond's side on the dais before the sweeping steps to the city, she knew that in this matter, as all others, that Thranduil would be stubborn, cunning, and seemingly omniscient. It was in his power as king to appear so to his people. But Y/N, he could not fool. She and Elrond would simply need maneuver with tact, to force Thranduil into showing his hand.

In the distance, the royal traveling party rounded a bend and came into view, the Elvenking in his raiment of grey and silver astride his great antlered steed. From here, Y/N could feel his piercing gaze upon them, focusing on her at the Lord of Rivendell's side. Robed in rich, dark green against Elrond's golden raiment, Y/N stood tall. A circlet of gold sat upon her brow, and in it, an opal enshrined. Befitting of her station, she stood to Elrond's left, his wife Celebrían to his right.

Y/N had known true fear in the face of evil, yet facing the Elvenking of Mirkwood after these twenty years turned her chest cold. She could never fear him - she knew him too well, but that was just the problem. They shared a deep past of friendship, of love, forbidden though it may have been. And pain, at the last. Since their parting, she had, for the first time, lived many secrets that she kept from him still.

The party finally arrived at the dais, the great reindeer's feet clapping against the stone as thunder. The Elvenking dismounted, stepped before Elrond, and inclined his head.

"Lord Elrond of Rivendell, you honor me with your great hospitality," he said formally, the Sindarin tongue rolling like quicksilver from his mouth. "And Lady Celebrían, thank you for welcoming my host into your household."

Elrond, Y/N, and the council assembled bowed to the king.

"We are pleased you answered our invitation," Elrond replied, his tone, as ever, one of deliberate lightness, as if he knew something no one else did. "How long shall you stay?"

"A week," Thranduil said shortly. Finally, finally, his silvered eyes shifted to Y/N. She breathed in deeply. "There are matters to attend to in Mirkwood."

"I do hope Prince Legolas is well," she said softly, smoothly.

Thranduil looked momentarily surprised she'd spoken, his eyebrows drawing together at the sound of her voice. "He is taking to his responsibilities well."

A moment of silence passed. The river roared below. Then, Celebrían was taking gesturing towards the king, leading him away into the great wood house of Rivendell.

Formal greetings complete, the rest of the crowd quickly dispersed, and elves moved swiftly in preparation for the feast prepared in the king's honor. Soon, only Elrond and Y/N remained. She watched the sun setting over the vale, eyes fixed on the rushing waters surrounding.

"Will you tell him?" Elrond asked, voice so quiet only she could hear.

"How could I?" Y/N whispered. She felt her fingers tremble.

"It is unfair to -"

"You shall not tell me what is fair or unfair, Elrond," Y/N whirled, suddenly furious. "You know not what it is to have my fears."

Elrond held up his hands. "I only wish to say that truths are better spoken. Deception is the chaos-sower."

"It will put him in danger."

"It will give him power."

"A curse," she hissed. "A bounty upon his head."

"Or a crown."

She stared at her friend, stunned. "You do not mean that."

Elrond only watched her in return.

With no words left between them, Y/N turned and disappeared into the house, bracing herself for the week to come.

~~~

It was the fourth day of the accursed sessions of counsel, and Thranduil had still not admitted there being any disturbance in Mirkwood. He spoke on matters of trade, of agriculture, of relations with Khazad-Dûn, but nothing of the murmurs from the Sutherlands.

Y/N was beginning to lose her patience.

Elrond, blessedly, had more of it to spare. Ever the diplomat, he listened to Thranduil's concerns and complaints of their relations, and constructed plans to fix them. Ever the master of compromise, he kept Rivendell's secrecy and best interests at heard. Ever the more patient of the two, he kept prodding the Elvenking towards revealing his secrets, to no avail.

Y/N sat, posture relaxed, around the dais at the center of Elrond's pubic chambers. The elves around her deliberated, debated, while she kept her mouth closed. As Elrond's chief advisor, her primary duty was to listen. She interjected when Elrond looked to her, and when someone said something entirely ludicrous. Elves tended to take a laboriously long time to come to any sort of agreement in politics, and were reasonable to the point of boredom. Y/N's engagement had thus far been minimal, though she heard all.

They had turned to the topic of weapons, and of Rivendell's protection. They were inching closer to the topic at hand, but she knew Thranduil had a deep well of patience, particularly when it came to dealing with elves. The high noon sun blazed down on the white marble.

"How have you fared in the training of your ranks?" Thranduil inquired, sipping at a goblet of honeywine.

"The archers excel, under the tutelage of Sindarin masters," Elrond said. "The swordsmen, under that of the Ñoldor. Khazad-Dûn has agreed to provide us with weapon designs, and with materials to forge them. Durin is all too happy to help an old friend."

Thranduil scoffed lightly into his cup. "Old friend, indeed."

Y/N sat up straighter at the tone, the scoff. She had heard it many times. "Prince Durin has provided us with an excellent relationship over the years. He is a close friend to Rivendell."

Thranduil looked at her, through her, in her. Before her mind's eye flashed his face, poised over her, abed. Soft candlelight shone from beyond his features, and his face was softened into the loveliest of smiles. Gone in an instant.

Just then, lithe footsteps from just inside, and bursting from behind the curtains came three elven children, small and laughing. A maid reached out, trying to snatch them by their tunics, but too late. They sprinted into the circle, and straight up to Elrond.

"Father, we would like to go the Gates," one boy panted. Elrohir.

"Apologies, Father," the other interjected, suddenly serious. Elladan, his twin. "I told him not to come."

"Our swordmaster is at the Gates, and asked us to join him," the third explained. Y/N sat forward, staring down at the boys.

"Tathrenion," she said severely, hiding the quake to her voice, "you know not to enter this chamber when Lord Elrond is taking counsel."

The third boy, unlike the other two, with (Y/HC) hair and striking grey eyes, paled, bowing to Y/N. Even when he straightened, he kept his eyes averted. "Forgive me, Mother. Elladan and Elrohir wished to go, and I wished to accompany them."

It was only then, as the boys turned to glance around at the present company, that Elrond spoke.

"You are in the presence of Thranduil, Elvenking of Mirkwood."

Shuffling, with a soft gasp from Elrohir, the three boys bowed low to the king. Thranduil said nothing for a moment. Instead of on the children, his eyes were pinned on Y/N, wide with unbridled shock. When he finally did look at the boys, at the one called Tathrenion, he found his own eyes staring back, steady and calm.

Thranduil stood abruptly, setting down his goblet. He opened his mouth, closed it, then said, "We shall eat. Elrond, you shall decide what to do with your sons."

He swept off the dais, out of view, and Y/N was left staring at the spot he once occupied.

"Go after him," Elrond murmured to her, leaning close.

"Tathrenion-"

"Leave the child to me." And an unspoken promise to keep her son safe.

Y/N was up in an instant, following in Thranduil's wake as quickly as possible. But he was moving fast, and kept dodging out of sight, around corners that he did not know. Servants moved out of the way as Y/N passed through an adjoining kitchen at a sprint, intercepting Thranduil as he rounded the corner into the next room.

She caught him by his elbow as he tried to pull from her grasp, but she held firm.

"Thranduil," she said. "Stop. Just... Stop. And listen."

His rage made his jaw tight, his brows drawn low. "I will not stand here and listen to you when you have -"

"I had to leave," she interrupted, holding his gaze unflinchingly. "I could not be your concubine, Thranduil. I would not."

He scoffed, that same sound he made when he thought someone foolish. Beneath him. It hadn't started this way, but as they fell deeper into each other, he'd started scoffing at her the same way. It was part of what drove Y/N away from Mirkwood. "You were not a concubine, Y/N."

"Then tell me what I was to you."

Thranduil bent lower, so their faces were inches apart. "You know exactly what you were to me."

"I know that I was not your wife." And that was venom in her tone, sour and deadly.

A shadow passed over his features. "You were everything she was not."

"And that makes me whore to a king."

"You have never been a whore!" He shouted.

The surrounding house went quiet. Y/N trembled, fingertips numb.

"Tathrenion is your son," she said lowly, practically hissing into his mouth. "Your son, Thranduil. Our place in Rivendell is of your doing. You never recognized what it was to be in my place, with no guarantee of my safety in your court."

"I always would have protected the both of you."

Tears gathered in her eyes. "Our love felt increasingly fragile. I doubted that it even existed any longer. Had we been found out, I doubted you would protect me from exile."

Thranduil was quiet. The house had moved on from his sharp outburst, exhaling as his anger passed. Y/N's grip loosened on his tunic, her truth spoken. But her touch lingered.

"Did you know?" He murmured hoarsely.

"Not when I left your halls. Not until I reached the Misty Mountains."

"And all... went well? With the birth?"

Elven births were rare, and dangerous for mother and child. "Blessedly, Elrond's midwives and healers some of the most gifted, and I healed swiftly. He was born squalling."

He loosed a soft breath, and some of the tension left his features. He had always been beautiful, but it was when he was away from prying eyes that he truly became ethereal. Radiant. Himself.

"You should always have been in Mirkwood, with me." She just looked up at him. "I am sorry, my Y/N. I never meant to make you afraid."

"It is safer for both of us away from you and Legolas."

Thranduil snorted. "My son has proven impertinent. And lacking the character to succeed me."

"He will mature," she said softly. "He is young still."

"He will have to fight soon."

"Then this Necromancer..."

"Is a threat. Whatever darkness lurks in the south of my lands, it is dangerous and spreading."

"Tell Elrond," she urged. "He wishes to aid any fight against Morgoth's darkness in these lands."

"My forces are strong."

"They will be stronger with Rivendell's. Don't let your pride cloud your judgement."

At that, a small smile graced his mouth. "That has always been your advice for me."

"It will always stand. Unless you change."

"Would you come home?"

The question surprised her. "You would have us? So soon after the death of your wife?"

"I would have your company," he said. "And I would have my son raised by the both of us."

Y/N did not have an answer, and she was about to say as much when a smaller voice said, "I would like to go to Mirkwood."

Y/N whipped around, and found young Tathrenion standing behind them. She took a large step away from Thranduil, then lowered herself to her son's level, steeling herself.

"What did Lord Elrond tell you and the twins?" She asked.

"He said we may go to the Gates, but I decided to stay behind." Tathrenion peered past Y/N, to the Elvenking. "I wished to speak with you."

Thranduil could hardly stomach looking at his son's face, the very reflection of his own, untouched by age yet full of a strange wisdom. "Speak, child."

"I know little of why my mother left your kingdom, but I know she has done everything since for my sake. Please, do not ply her with false hopes. If you invite us to Mirkwood, you pledge to keep her safe."

"And you," Thranduil answered immediately. "I will protect you both, and welcome you into my household in places of honor."

Y/N was speechless, her throat swollen around pride for her young son.

"I know you not, Your Majesty, but I would like to," said Tathrenion simply.

Thranduil smiled.

Y/N sent him on his way, leaving her alone once again with the Elvenking. This time, he reached out to her, and against logic, she stepped into him, leaning into his fingers upon her cheek. She had longed for his touch, his kiss, his steadfastness ever since she left the forest. Leaving Mirkwood had been one of the hardest decisions of her long life.

"Let us think about this," she whispered. "And let these diplomatic matters be done first. Speak to Elrond in earnest."

"I will wait for your return to my side, Y/N," he murmured. "I have been waiting since the moment you left."

~~~

Dappled sunlight shone down upon the glade, lighting the page Y/N read. It was a letter, signed in Elrond's familiar hand, detailing the phalanxes marching towards Mirkwood. They would join Thranduil's army in patrolling for evil in the south, just as they had hoped.

Amongst the trees, a young boy laughed, and an older one hollered. Legolas was nearly fully mature, but had taken to playing with his younger half-brother in earnest. Together, they romped through the forest, and Tathrenion adored having someone elder to look up to and learn from. He excelled in archery, now, thanks to Legolas's tutelage.

A hand wrapped around her arm, pulling her backwards, and she fell upon Thranduil's chest. He was stretched upon the grass, feline at ease. She luxuriated in the feel of his body against hers, in his fingers in her unbound hair. In his mouth, pressed to her shoulder.

She had refused to take him to bed since her return, but she had begun to let him back into her heart. He had honored his word, and the loss of his wife had left him in need of comfort, in need of counsel and a tender hand.

Besides that, over honeywine in the candlelight one night in Rivendell, he had finally told her he loved her. Words were the playthings of elves, and though they meant little to some, they meant everything to Y/N. She opened up visions of the future that had ere been clouded.

"Of what do you think, my love?" Thranduil breathed against her skin.

She came back to the dampness of the grass beneath them, the golden green of the canopy above, the laughter of her son in the distance. The warmth of her king at her back.

She smiled. "Eternity."

[sapphire-writes]

The Au Pair (modern!HOTD) part 1

Part 1 ~ Part 2

pairing: Daemon x fem!Reader x Rhaenyra

summary: You take a new job nannying for a family on the Upper East Side. You find yourself intrigued by both parents.

warnings: 18+ (slight power imbalance as they're your bosses, sensual themes), language

word count: 3.1k

note: I've been in a Daemon x Rhae mood and this idea came to me and suddenly it is here, enjoy my loves!

When you looked up at the high-rise apartment building, you felt your stomach drop. You had always been that way with heights, whether looking down or looking up at something tall, the feeling of intense vertigo washing over you. You took in a deep breath to steady yourself, draining the rest of your coffee before walking in. 

Throwing the cup in a nearby bin, you popped a mint into your mouth to hopefully disguise your coffee breath. 

You’d nannied before but never au-paired. It seemed to be a little more intense, having you live with the family, and become a part of the family. But you had to get out of your current living situation, and the website was too tempting to pass up. 

You didn’t even think you’d get a response when you sent in your resume. You recognized the family name; old money, the backbone of Wall Street. It was too good to be true when you received an email inviting you in person for an interview.

Still, the thought of caring for three boys was nearly overwhelming. 

“You’ll only truly be a little help,” Rhaenyra had told you, after leading you through the foyer, giving you hot tea in a cup that felt so delicate it might break in your small hands. 

Rhaenyra had ushered you to the sofa, before sitting in the one directly across. She crossed her ankles, clad in a dark maroon suit, her silver hair striking against the wine-colored fabric. She was ethereally beautiful, the kind of pretty that takes your breath away. 

“Luke and Joff are the littles, they require the most attention,” Rhaenyra explained.

You take a sip of the tea, warmth flooding through you.

“How old are they?” you ask, blowing on the tea. 

“Jacaerys is the oldest, he’s nine, then there’s Luke who is seven, and little Joffrey is only four,” Rhaenyra tells you.

“No girls?” you ask and she shakes her head. 

“Daemon’s daughters Baela and Rhaena sometimes visit during the week, they’re nine as well. They live with their mother mostly, and often spend the weekends with us.”

“You have a full house,” you comment, smiling.

“Several,” Rhaenyra answers, mirroring your smile, “We have two apartments here, in the city, during the weekends we go to our house, outside of the city.”

“That’s wonderful, that you’re able to get away,” you tell her, “the city can be overwhelming.”

“I agree,” she says, “it’s nice to have an escape. So, tell me about yourself,” she cocks her head to the side, “what made you want this position?”

You sigh, deciding it's best to be truthful.

“Well, I’ve worked with kids before, on and off,” you begin, “some babysitting, nannying, I was a camp counselor for one summer.”

Rhaenyra nods, her violet eyes warm and inviting.

“I also, just recently lost my apartment,” you tell her, “it’s a long story, but I need to be out by the end of the month, so a job that comes with a place to live was very tempting.”

Rhaenyra smiles, and you nervously play with the rings on your fingers. 

“I can be really good with the kids, I think we’ll get along great.”

Rhaenyra looks you up and down as the door opens. The most beautiful man you’ve ever seen walks in, throwing his briefcase on the counter. His silver hair falls in front of his eyes as he leans against the counter, tapping his ring-clad fingers against the black marble.

“Daemon,” she calls, not turning around, “meet our guest.”

Daemon simply glances at you, busy with something on his phone.

“He’ll warm up, don’t you worry,” Rhaenya says, standing.

“I won’t let you down if given this opportunity,” you tell her, placing your teacup down and standing to leave.

“I know you won’t,” she says, taking your arm to lead you to the door, “let me discuss with my husband, and we’ll let you know.”

“Thank you, truly,” you tell her at the door, “It was nice to meet you, ma’am.”

“Please, call me Rhaenyra,” she insists.

“Rhaenyra,” you say, and she leads you out.

Rhaenyra sighs, returning to the couch and flipping through your resume once more. 

“I’m shocked you let her leave,” Daemon says, dropping a kiss on Rhaenyra’s head, and squeezing her shoulder with a ring-clad hand.

“She’ll be back,” Rhaenyra assures him, “I’m taking it slow.”

“Surprising,” Daemon says, “with her calling you ma’am so sweetly.”

Rhaenyra merely glances up at him, smiling coyly at her husband. 

“I’ll give her a call this evening then,” Rhaneyra says, kissing the back of his hand, “officially offer her the job?”

“Call her now, if you like,” Daemon tells her.

“She’s probably still in the building,” Rhaenyra says with a chuckle.

“Even better,” Daemon says.

Rhaenyra hums, pulling out her phone.

“Someone’s eager,” Rhaenyra teases, earning a low growl from her husband.

After celebratory drinks with your girlfriends and packing all your shit into boxes, a car picks you up bringing you to your new home. You’re shown to your room by one of the housekeepers. It’s perfect for you, with large windows and a private bathroom. The bed feels like heaven as you lay on top of it. You can’t believe your luck. 

You’re introduced to the boys when they come home from school. While Jace is apprehensive, Luke warms to you right away, insisting on showing you his collection of Lego model sets. Dragons are his favorite at the moment. You spend the afternoon with them, and the day flies by. 

Only when you’re in your room later, fresh out of the shower and dressed for bed do you realize you’ve lost something rather important in the move. You silently curse, and pad down the hallway toward the home office Rhaenyra uses. 

“Mrs. Targaryen?” you ask, knocking on the office door.

Rhaenyra beckons you in, smiling, removing her blue light glasses and looking away from the computer. 

“I’m so sorry to bother you-”

“Nonsense, darling, what is it?” Rhaenyra says, lacing her fingers together, “and what did I say about addressing me?”

You blush, forgetting yourself. You find it easy to get flustered in Rhaenyra’s presence. 

“I’m sorry, Rhaenyra,” you correct yourself.

“You don’t have to say sorry,” she tells you.

Her tone is so sweet, so kind, and loving that it almost makes you want to apologize again. You release a breathy laugh instead. 

“I seem to have lost my hairbrush in the move,” you tell her, “you wouldn’t happen to have an extra one lying around?”

Rhaenyra stands, walking out from behind her desk and toward you. 

“Of course, come here,” she tells you, reaching for your hand.

It's warm and soft as she interlaces her fingers with yours, pulling you out of the home office and down the hallway. You haven’t yet seen Daemon and Rhaenyra’s room, though you realize this is about to change. She opens the door and brings you into their room. 

You can’t help but gawk at windows that stretch from the floor to the ceiling revealing the New York City skyline. The curtains are still open, revealing the sparkling city below. Daemon is already seated in bed on top of the covers reading, looking up as you enter with Rhaenyra. 

“Already?” he asks, and Rhaenyra shushes him.

“Our friend is without a hairbrush,” she says, releasing your hand and moving to enter the master bathroom. 

Daemon hums at her response, returning to his book. The bed is huge, big enough to comfortably fit the whole family if they wanted. The sheets are a deep gray, and look like they’re made of the softest silk. You almost want to reach out and touch them, feel the softness when Rhaenyra reenters the room.

“Sit,” she tells you, motioning to the bed.

“That’s okay,” you assure her, “I can-”

“It’s the least I can do,” she interrupts.

You want to argue with her. They’re letting you live in a gorgeous highrise on the Upper East Side and essentially want for nothing, and yet they’re the ones who are grateful? You suppose it just shows what good parents they are, wanting nothing but the best for the boys. It warms your heart knowing you can help support them in that way. 

Rhaenyra motions to the bed once more and you sit down on the edge. You know immediately that sleeping in that bed would cure any problems you’ve ever had. It’s so soft against you and you run your hand over the sheets. Rhaenyra sits next to you, crossing her legs. 

“Turn for me,” she says, and you move so your back faces her. 

She takes your hair, still wet from your shower, and runs her hands through it gently. You can feel her nails against your scalp causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. She moves the hair from your neck before gently beginning to brush through your hair. It’s so relaxing your eyes flutter shut. 

Daemon is watching now, closing his book and leaning his head back against the headboard. Rhaenyra meets his gaze and his eyes narrow. She flicks an eyebrow at him, continuing. Daemon sticks his tongue against his cheek before rising from the bed. You open your eyes as you feel him move, watching as you walk by you, stopping to press a kiss against Rhaenyra’s cheek.

He heads into the bathroom, not bothering to close the door as you hear the shower turn on. Rhaenyra places the brush on your lap.

“There you are,” she tells you, placing her hands on your shoulder and squeezing.

“Thank you,” you tell her earnestly. 

Her kindness brings tears to your eyes and you find yourself wanting to hug her, bury your face in the crook of her neck, and have her lavish your face with kisses. The thought brings a blush to your cheeks. She’s your boss. Still, as you get up to leave and bid her goodnight, you find your gaze falling to her lips. You look away quickly.

“Thank you again, Rhaenyra,” you tell her, “For everything. I’m really grateful for this opportunity.”

Rhaenyra smiles, smoothing some hair from your face.

“We’re happy to have you,” she tells you, “Goodnight, my dear.”

“Goodnight,” you tell her, leaving the room and heading to your own.

Daemon reappears with wet hair and a towel around his waist. Droplets of water cling to his chest and shoulders. Rhaenyra smirks at him.

“Enjoy your cold shower?” she teases and he chuckles in response. 

The following week is a test run, seeing how you handle the boys and their schedule. It’s easy enough-no scarily easy. The boys are a dream, so well behaved and respectful toward you, and enjoying the attention that is devoted to them while their mother and stepfather are busy working. 

Your schedule is simple. Wake up, make sure the boys get their breakfast, escort them to school, and then the rest of the morning and early afternoon is yours. Rhaenyra has assured you that sometimes she shall give you some errands to run, but for the most part, you’re free to ponder around different coffee shops and bookstores and attend your university classes. 

You pick up Joffrey first, as his daycare releases him in the early afternoon, and bring him on a walk. Then you wait for Jace and Luke to end their school days and escort them to their afterschool activities. You almost feel bad for Rhaenyra and Daemon, like you’re taking advantage of them somehow. It shouldn’t be this easy, right? It can’t be this perfect?

You’re still lost in your thoughts while you sit on a park bench watching Joffrey toddle about on a play structure as someone sits down beside you. You blink, pulled from your thoughts, giving her a kind smile. 

“You’re the new Targaryen AP, right?” the girl asks, smiling at you.

“Yeah!” you answer, telling her your name. 

“I’m Shae,” she tells you, “The Lannister’s Au Pair.”

You nod. You’ve heard that name before. Shae points at a little girl with golden curls on the swings. 

“Cerelle Lannister, one of the little lions I look after,” she says chuckling. 

She motions for your phone.

“Here, let me put in my number,” she tells you, and you smile while handing her your phone, “We have to stick together, you know?”

“Thanks,” you tell her, “I’d love to get coffee sometime and get some advice. This is my first time being an Au Pair.”

Shae raises an eyebrow as she adds her number. 

“Good luck with the Targaryens,” she tells you chuckling, “they can’t seem to hold onto an AP for more than a month.”

Your brow furrows and you glance at the boys. You can see Jace running across the soccer field and Luke on the other side with the younger boys. Joffrey plays on the playground, staying in your line of sight. You can’t help but smile.

“I don’t see why,” you tell her, “the boys are great. Very well behaved, impressive manners. Better than me.”

Shae laughs. 

“It’s Daemon and Rhaenyra I’d be wary of,” Shae tells you, voice lowering with the nature of the conversation, “the last girl they had was doing fine until suddenly she’s signing an NDA and being shipped out of New York. I never spoke to her again.”

A chill rolls through you. 

Jace calls your name, running over to you.

“Did you see what I did!” he says, a huge grin on his face, Luke trailing behind him.

“You were so awesome Jacey!” you tell him, ruffling his hair.

They’ve warmed up to you immediately. 

You keep thinking about what Shae said all night. When you join the kids for dinner, Rhaenyra and Daemon do not, as they ended up having to work late. When you tuck them in and return to your room you find a small box on your bed. 

You open it, revealing a small necklace. Dainty, and expensive, with a small pearl hanging off the chain. 

A gift. 

You pick up the card that goes with it.

For all your help, xx

There’s no signature. Though you suppose it must be from Rhaenyra. You blush at the kind gesture before retiring to bed for the night, curling up in the soft sheets with a book.

The next few weeks go smoothly, and without any fusses. The boys are lovely as ever and easy to drag around to different parks, activities, and school functions. They’re starting to feel like your little brothers, like your own children even. You journey with them to the weekend house, an hour outside the city, roasting marshmallows, swimming in the gorgeous pool, and taking them to get ice cream. It’s paradise, it’s a dream. 

You see Rhaenyra more than Daemon, though she was right. He does seem to be warming up to you, glancing at you more, checking in on you. Sitting with you when you’re at the counter for breakfast. Letting a hand drift across your back as he passes by.

You keep finding gifts. A silk robe, a new purse, a pair of earrings that match the necklace given to you. Fresh flowers by your bedside. It’s very sweet of them, to be so welcoming. Almost romantic. 

Later one night during the week, you can’t seem to find sleep.

You make your way to the kitchen, feet padding softly down the hallway. Rhaenyra had said to help yourself to anything, what’s theirs is yours. You’d been craving something sweet since dinner. Since moving into the highrise your palate has begun to adjust to the rich, expensive foods the chef makes and has begun to spoil you. You’re starting to wonder how you’ll ever go back to living normally when this job ends. It’s not something you want to think about. You’re determined to stay as long as possible. 

You open the fridge, the light bathing the floor in front of you. You look around, moving things trying to find a treat. Their fridge is crazy stocked, full of fresh fruits and vegetables, and green juices. Things that sound good any time but now. Now you need chocolate. 

“Looking for something?” a deep voice calls and you jump.

“Shit, you scared me, sir,” you say, holding your hand against your chest. 

Daemon moves toward you from the shadows, silk pajama pants hanging low on his hips. He’s shirtless and you make a point to look at his lavender eyes. They’re almost black in the low light, a smirk dancing on his lips. 

“I was just looking for something sweet,” you tell him, biting your lip.

“Something sweet, hmm?” he echoes, reaching around you to open the freezer. 

You back up, suddenly very aware of your choice of pajamas. Another gift you’d found waiting on your bed, a silky red set. The tank top hands low, the shorts hugging the curves of your ass and thighs. 

“Try this,” Daemon says, holding out some gelato.

You let out a breathy sigh. 

“What?” Daemon asks, tilting his head curiously.

“Everything here is so fancy,” you tell him, “even the ice cream.”

“Isn't it nice to have expensive things?” he asks, unscrewing the lid and throwing it on the black marble counter.

“I don’t know if I’ll like it,” you tell him, nose scrunching.

He chuckles, cocking an eyebrow. Daemon reaches for a drawer, pulling out a long silver spoon, perfect for ice cream. He dips it into the gelato before bringing his violet eyes to yours.

“Open your mouth,” he murmurs, holding the spoon out to your lips.

With his seductive tone, the roughness of his voice floating over you like silk caressing your skin, you instinctively part your lips, accepting the sweet treat. It’s cold and sweet as it moves across your tongue, sliding down your throat. A bit dribbles on your lips as Daemon removes the spoon from the confines of your mouth. A small remnant of the cream lingers on the spoon and Daemon places it between his lips. 

Your eyes are wide, watching him suck on it, and you can feel a blush creeping up your cheeks. He removes the spoon, licking his lips. You bring your hand to your lips wiping away the trace of cream that remains.

“Do you like it?” Daemon asks, voice gruff, eyes hungry for more than gelato. 

“Yes,” you breathe. 

He smiles and then places the container in your hand.

“Enjoy,” he tells you, before walking out of the kitchen. 

You stay still, standing dumb for several minutes after he leaves, feeling the container of gelato begin to soften the longer you hold it. Snapping out of your trance, you hurry back to your room, closing the door behind you. 

note: hope you enjoyed my loves! 😘

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[grandprixwinnerlandonorris]

Silver Springs | Lando Norris⁴

Pairings: Lando Norris x ex!fem!reader

Requested: yes

Warnings: angsty with a hopeful ending

A/N: This is my first request ever and I hope I managed to fulfill the expectations. I took a little liberty and played with the style and format and just listening and studying the song made me want to write it this way. I'm sorry if this isn't what anon had in mind when requesting this so with that make sure to leave as much details as possible when requesting things if you want something specific. Feedback on this would be very much appreciated. 🥺🧡

You’ve found yourself thinking about Lando more regularly as of late. It has been ten months since your break up and you don’t remember feeling like this at the time. You guess you were in a state of denial, trying to convince yourself that the relationship was worth saving despite knowing that it wasn’t.

Of course, in the beginning everything was like a fairy tale. At first it was so wonderful that every ounce of you was convinced that it couldn't possibly get any better. And then, slowly, inevitably, the house of cards collapsed. Maybe that should've been your first clue, but every time you would stick your rose colored glasses further up your nose and focus harder on all those positive aspects of the relationship.

Time spent with Lando was the best time of your life. He always gave you the best he could offer. Taking you out on dates, vacations, accompanying him to races across the world... He truly gave you that only-girl-in-the-world experience. He was always there, present. Until he wasn't.

You knew what you were getting yourself into when you started dating Lando Norris. But there was no way you could've prepared yourself for how it would all end up.

He was a Formula One driver and his life was always going to be busy. The paparazzi, the rumors, the constant pressure of being in the public eye. It all took a toll on your relationship.

But what you didn't anticipate was how much time he would start spending away from you. It started off with a few missed calls and texts, but soon he was gone for days at a time without a word.

You tried to be understanding, knowing how demanding his job was, but it was hard not to feel neglected and unimportant. You tried to talk to him about it, but he always seemed to have an excuse or an apology that would temporarily ease your worry.

As the months went on, you began to realize that the relationship was becoming more and more one-sided. You were always the one making compromises, always the one putting in the effort to make things work.

One night, as Lando was getting ready to leave for yet another race, you finally confronted him about it. You told him how you felt and how you needed more from him. But instead of trying to work things out, he simply brushed you off and left without a second thought.

For the first time, you began to wonder if maybe it was time to let go. Maybe it was time to walk away from a relationship that was causing you more pain than happiness.

It wasn't an easy call. You were still in love with him and a part of you wanted to believed that he loved you too. But you couldn't keep living like that when you knew you deserved more. So, after a lot of tears and internal conflict, you made the decision to end things with him.

He took it calmly. “Maybe it’s for the best. We’re at different stages in life-”

But you weren’t interested in reasoning. You were done.

Few days later as you sat alone in your room thinking about him, you couldn't help but wonder if it could all be different. Maybe if you had just tried harder, fought for the relationship a little more, things could've ended up differently. Maybe you could've been the one he came home to every night, instead of just another girl in his life. But relationships were a two way street and you couldn’t do it just on your own.

Months went by and slowly but surely, you started to heal. You threw yourself into work and hobbies, spending time with friends and family. You had to reduce your social media and tv time, fearing you’d accidentally see something about him, or maybe even search up his name on your own that would ruin all the progress you just made. Mutual friends had to be cut off too. Everything that even had a slightest relation to him had to be eliminated from your life so you wouldn't crumble back into old habits.

Finally, you were ready to try dating again. It felt strange to be putting yourself out there again, going out on dates here and there. And although nothing ever really clicked, it was working to distract and make you forget. Up until now.

He just crept into your thoughts on a random Tuesday. You scoffed, shaking them away. Then little (in)significant things started to happen. Like seeing number 4 everywhere in various combinations. You would turn on the radio and first thing you’d hear would be the song you two proclaimed to be yours one drunk night in a bar.

“Are you kidding me?!” you spat, turning the radio off. It wasn’t even a love song.

Dreams began next and they were so life-like that it was almost as if you had gone back in time. They would be so vivid, reminding you of his touch and sound of his voice. In one of them, you would be back together and he would be holding you in his arms. You’d feel safe and loved, just like you used to. One of those nights you woke up to the sound of his laughter echoing in your ears, but when you turned over it was just you and the void of the bedside he used to fill. Your eyes shifted to a digital clock on the nightstand. In hauntingly bold red it read 04:44 am.

And you really should’ve known better than to turn the tv on on weekends. Not every weekend, you reminded yourself, but really, what were the odds that you would catch him racing that Sunday?

You tried your best to ignore it all. Tried to push Lando back to the farthest corners of your mind. But every time you tried, he came back stronger, like a boomerang you couldn't escape from. It was like he was haunting you, his memory a ghost that refused to be exorcised.

It was frustrating. It was maddening. You didn't want to think about him anymore. You didn't want to care. You didn't want to love him.

When it all became too much, you decided to go for a walk to clear your head. You grabbed your coat and headed out the door, the cold afternoon air hitting you as you stepped outside. As you walked down the street, you realized that you were headed in the direction of the park where you and Lando used to go on picnics and take walks together. There was no point in avoiding going there now. Every part of the town was marked with the two of you in one way or the other.

As you walked through the park, you couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia wash over you. You remembered how happy you used to be with Lando by your side, how the two of you laughed and talked for hours on end. You wondered if he ever thought about those moments, if he ever missed you. If he ever thought about you just in general. Your heart felt heavy as you thought about how things could have been different if only he had been willing to put in more effort into your relationship.

A sudden movement caught your eye and you turned to see a man walking towards you, his eyes locked onto yours. Your heart leaped out of your chest and you found yourself frozen in place. But the man who passed you wasn’t him. He might’ve had his hair or his eyes, but it wasn’t him. You closed your eyes and sighed a sigh of relief.

I’m starting to see things now, you thought to yourself, shaking the image away. You weren’t sure if you were ready for that type of encounter just yet anyway.

After a few minutes, you continued on your way and eventually found yourself in front of a cozy cafe. You looked up at the simple yet inviting storefront and decided this was as good a place as any to take a break. You opened the door and stepped inside, the warm atmosphere immediately embracing you like an old friend.

The cafe was quite busy with customers, but despite the crowd it still had an intimate feel to it. The smell of fresh coffee accompanied by the sound of jazz music created a relaxed atmosphere that made you forget all about your worries for a while. You walked up to the counter and ordered a cup of your favorite coffee blend before sitting down at one of the tables in the far corner.

-

He had thought about you a lot that summer. It wasn't just the memory of you that lingered in his mind; it was the way you made him feel. He missed the way your hand fit perfectly in his, and the sound of your laughter that could light up a room. He missed the long conversations you used to have over the phone when he was away, and the way your eyes sparkled when you talked about something you were passionate about.

He had missed you, more than he was willing to admit to himself. He had tried to ignore his feelings, to push them down and pretend that he was perfectly okay without you. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake the memories of your time together.

Sometimes the air would smell like your hair, the wind would caress his cheeks like you used to. He remembered the picnics in the park, the late night conversations, the lazy Sunday mornings spent cuddled up in bed on his weekends off before he would have to pack for another race week. He remembered how happy he used to be with you by his side, and he cursed himself for not realizing how much he needed you until it was too late.

Being without you on tracks was the worst. He didn’t know it would be like that when he had you calling before and after every session, giving him a false sense of security. He was racing for himself, building his career, but  he couldn't focus on anything else. The roar of the engines and the adrenaline rush of it all losing their appeal without you there to share it with him. He had to force himself to keep going, to keep racing, but every achievement felt hollow without you to celebrate with him.

But he never reached out to you. He never tried to make things right, even when he knew he was wrong. He was too prideful, too scared of rejection, too afraid of admitting that he had made a mistake. So he stayed away, hoping that time and distance would heal the wounds.

It was late autumn now and after yet another decent weekend, he decided to fly home for his week off and recharge. Maybe time spent with family and friends would help and stop you from creeping in his thoughts.

As he settled into his seat on the plane, he couldn't help but feel a sense of emptiness. His career progressed drastically since your split, but what did it matter? He only had himself to share his success with.

The flight was uneventful, and before he knew it, he was back in his hometown. He stepped off the plane and was greeted by the familiar faces of his family. Their hugs and laughter made him realize he was making yet another mistake. He missed you more than ever, and being home without you will only make it worse.

Lando tried to keep busy by spending time with his loved ones and focusing on his training. But it was like trying to hold back the tide with a broom, he couldn't escape the memories of you. The sound of your voice, the touch of your hand, the warmth of your embrace. It was all too vivid in his mind, haunting him day and night.

When he couldn’t take it anymore, he drove out in his car, desperate to find a way to move on. He had no destination in mind, and maybe driving to clear his head wasn’t ideal, but it was the only other thing he loved that he had left. And it was like universe was having a laugh at him, when he turned on the radio it was your song that was playing. He thought of changing the station, but his fingers lingered too long in the air over the button that he ended up listening to the whole thing.

As the last notes of the song faded away, Lando let out a heavy sigh and pulled over to the side of the road. He found himself parked in front of a cozy cafe that he had never noticed before. It looked warm and inviting, the smell of coffee wafting out to greet him. He found himself drawn to it, like a moth to a flame.

Without much thought, he opened the door and stepped inside. The sound of jazz music greeted him, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of calm wash over him as he took in the warm atmosphere. He walked up to the counter and ordered a cup of coffee before finding a seat at one of the tables.

Looking around, he spotted you purely accidentally, sipping coffee and reading a book. His heart skipped a beat as he watched you sit alone in the far corner. You looked beautiful, just as he remembered, with your hair falling in loose waves around your face. He couldn't believe it was you. The one person he had been thinking about for months was sitting just a few tables away from him.

He couldn't take his eyes off you, his heart racing with emotions he thought he had buried deep within. He tried to catch your eye, but you didn't look up from the book. He felt his heart sink as he realized that you didn't even know he was there.

Lando hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do next. Part of him wanted to approach you and try to start a conversation, while the other part of him couldn't bear the thought of seeing you again after all this time. He had hurt you deeply, and he wasn't sure if he was ready to face the consequences of his actions.

But as he sat there, lost in thought, he suddenly realized that he couldn't just sit idly by and watch you from a distance. He had to do something, even if it meant facing his fears head-on. It was now or never.

He got up from his seat and slowly walked over to your table, his heart beating faster with every step. You finally looked up from your book as he approached, your eyes widening in surprise as you saw who was standing in front of you.

-

“What are you doing here?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself. Quickly you made a mental check on what day it was. Early Friday evening.

Lando sighed, nerves getting the best of him as he stood before you. “I’m… I came home for my week off.” he said, his voice sounding small and unsure.

“You have a week off,” you weren’t sure if you were asking him, accusing him, laughing at your own stupidity or a secret fourth thing.

He shifted awkwardly on his feet, his eyes unable to meet yours. “You’re saying it like it’s a crime,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I just didn’t expect to see you here on a weekend.” you defended, realizing you were setting yourself for a trap. Not every weekend.

“Were you hoping I was out of the country?” he asked, his tone laced with sarcasm. He knew he was being defensive, but he couldn't help it. Being around you made him feel vulnerable, exposed.

Lando's question hung heavily in the air, his eyes still fixed on you. You felt a pang of guilt, knowing full well that you had been hoping to avoid him for a little while longer. But now that he was standing in front of you, you couldn't deny the pull you still felt towards him.

"I don't know what I was hoping for," you admitted, your eyes finally meeting his. "I just know I didn't expect to see you here."

"Neither did I," he said softly, taking a step closer to you. "But now that I am, can we talk?"

You looked at him for a moment, taking in the sight of him. He looked good, but different somehow. He seemed more vulnerable, more open than you remembered. It made your heart ache for him, but you tried to push the feeling away.

"Okay," you said, nodding your head. "Let's talk."

Lando let out a sigh of relief, his tense shoulders relaxing as he took a seat opposite of you.

“So, how have you been?” he asked, shuffling his feet slightly.

“I’ve been okay,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. “Just trying to keep busy.”

There was a moment of awkward silence between you as you both tried to gather your thoughts. You couldn't help but notice how much he had changed since the last time you saw him. His hair was shorter, and he looked like he had put on some muscle. But it was his eyes that caught your attention the most. They looked tired and distant, like he had been carrying a heavy burden for a long time.

“How are-How are things with you?” you choked out.

Lando let out a small laugh, but it sounded hollow to your ears. "Things have been good, I guess," he said, his eyes flickering towards yours for a moment before darting away. "Work has been keeping me busy."

You nodded, not sure what to say. You couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy at the thought of him thriving without you. It didn't seem fair that he could move on so easily while you were still struggling in a way.

"I'm sorry," he said suddenly, his voice breaking the silence. "For everything. For how I treated you, for how I acted. I was a fool, and I should have never let you go."

“It’s okay-”

“It’s not.” he cut you off harshly. “I should’ve been there. I should’ve set my priorities straight.”

“But you did.” you smiled to hide the pain as you said that, tears stinging the corners of your eyes.

“I was wrong. I was so wrong.” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Lando could see the confusion and hurt written all over your face, and he knew that he had a lot to answer for. He took a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts before he spoke again.

“I know I hurt you, and I'm sorry.” he said. “I should have fought for you, instead of letting my pride get in the way. I missed you more than I could ever say, and being away from you only made me realize how much I need you in my life.”

You looked at him skeptically, unsure if you could believe him after all the pain he had caused you. But as you looked into his eyes, you could see the sincerity and regret that shone through.

“I don't know if you're ready to forgive me, and I don't expect you to right away,” he continued. “But I had to come and tell you how I feel and to try to make things right. If you’ll let me.”

He looked down as he finished his speech. You sat a few moments in silence, letting it all sink in before leaning over and reaching for his hand.

As soon as your fingers interlocked with his, you felt a jolt of electricity run through your body. It had been so long since you had touched him, and it felt like coming home.

“Lando,” you called, wanting him to look at you. You only continued when he did. “I already forgave you. But as for the rest… I will need some time.” you said softly, not wanting to give him false hope. “But I appreciate your apology.”

"I understand," he said, squeezing your hand gently. "I'll give you all the time you need. Just know that I'm here whenever you're ready."

You nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. It wasn't a complete resolution, but it was a start. You sat in silence for a few more minutes, just holding each other's hands, before you finally pulled away.

"I should get going," you said, grabbing your book and standing up.

“Let me drive you home.” Lando said, standing up as well.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you were ready to spend more time alone with him. But as you looked into his earnest and apologetic gaze, you couldn't help but nod in agreement.

"Okay," you said, a small smile creeping onto your face. "Let's go."

Lando walked you to his car, opening the door for you and then walking around to the driver's side. As he started the engine, you couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia wash over you. This was the same car he had driven you around in when you were together, and it felt strange to be sitting in it again.

The ride was mostly silent, with both of you lost in your own thoughts. But as you pulled up in front of your apartment building, Lando turned to you with a serious expression on his face.

"I know I have a lot to make up for," he said, his voice low and intense. “But I promise you, I'll do whatever it takes to prove to you that I'm serious about this. I want us to be together again, if you'll have me."

You took a deep breath, feeling a mixture of emotions swirling inside you. It was true that you still had feelings for Lando, but you weren't sure if it was enough to give him another chance. You needed time to think, to process everything that had happened between you two.

"I appreciate your sincerity, Lando," you said finally, meeting his gaze. "But I need some time alone to figure things out. Can you give me that?"

"Of course," he said, nodding his head. "I'll respect your wishes. Just let me know if you need anything, okay?"

You nodded, feeling a sense of relief and gratitude towards him. Despite everything that had happened between you two, he still cared about your well-being. It was a comforting thought, and it made you realize that maybe, just maybe, there was hope for the two of you.

"Thank you, Lando," you said, giving him a small smile. "I'll talk to you soon."

With that, you got out of the car and walked towards your building, feeling a strange mixture of emotions. Part of you was relieved to have some space to think, while another part of you was still hopeful for a future with Lando.

As you walked up the stairs to your apartment, you couldn't help but wonder what the future held. Would you be able to start anew, or would you remain apart forever? Only time would tell, but for now, all you could do was take things one day at a time.

[marthawrites]

Only A Scratch

Aemond Targaryen x fem reader

Word count: 3.4k+

About: Aemond requests you, a healer who has tended to his wounds before, to accompany him on a trip to Duskendale.

Includes: One bed trope! A more balanced mix of plot and porn featuring elements of mean!Aemond, injury, dick sucking, cockslapping, roughness, mild manhandling, mild degradation, unprotected vaginal sex, and mentions of fem receiving oral sex

Note: Hello lovely reader! This story is based on a request from @babyaemond with the quote of "you know what your problem is?" with our favorite one-eyed war criminal. Thank you, Chris ily! 💖 I had an absolute blast writing this and I hope you like it too! As always, reader is non-descript. Please, enjoy!

-

The realm might not believe it, perhaps not even the occupants and workers of the Red Keep would believe it, but, Aemond Targaryen was a momma's boy. He loved and respected his mother more than anyone else in all the kingdoms. With her nameday coming up, Aemond wanted to get her something extra special.

One afternoon while visiting Helaena during her embroidery time – little niece and nephews playing with him in the middle of the floor – he brought the idea up to his sister. 

"I think that a lovely idea, Aemond. You fetching Duskendale's greatest painter? Mother will hang the portrait somewhere everyone can see," Helaena replied with bright eyes. "And they have those mollusks who produce the most dazzling pearls. You can't go all that way and not get her jewelry!"

Aemond smiled. Helaena and her children were the rare people to draw genuine emotion from the prince. "I will pick something in your honor. Your gift to mother."

"And Aegon?" She asked.

"Aegon won't get any credit for these gifts. He wouldn't even be able to keep the secret, much less add to the surprise."

The princess giggled; unguarded in the company of her family.

-

To say receiving the dragon prince's offer was a surprise would be a vast understatement. He wanted you to go along on this trip with him? Out of all the healers and maesters? Even if you wanted to, you could not tell him no. Bewilderment buzzed around you as you rode out of King's Landing on horseback with him, Ser Arryk, and Ser Erryk.

It wouldn't be a long trip. Perhaps a week, there and back, with some leisure time to enjoy the city when you arrived. 

The twins were a skilled and respectful pair. You felt safe with them. You wondered, mind idly wandering as the twins led the way out of King's Landing, if you were Aemond's first pick for an accompanying medic. Fog rolled up from the sea and blanketed everything with a haunting gray. If it weren't for golden ways of sun piercing through clouds and fog like javelins it would be considerably creepy. Rays brought out your natural coloring, and when you turned to look across your shoulder to prince Aemond he looked wholly regal: silver hair shimmering, riding garb decorated with his House's sigil (as if anyone would need reminded who he was), breath hanging in the chilly morning air like he truly breathed smoke.

He felt you looking at him. "I don't need two eyes to see you staring so hard, girl," he said, turning the full attention of his single eye to you. Lilac. It nearly glowed in the foggy subdued brightness.

"Apologies, your Grace," you said with a guilty little grin. "The last time I saw you I was bandaging your newly stitched thigh. A much different sight than what I have of you now. You clean up well," you said, tiny smirk not leaving the outermost corners of your mouth. "Nasty cut it was… how did it heal?"

His face remained skillfully blank. There could have been a dozen emotions hidden behind that perfected poise; from his posture to the way he held the natural shape of his bowed mouth, he didn't allow you a glimpse into how your words affected him. "It healed well."

"I'm pleased to know I made such an impression that you'd request me to join you on this journey. An honor, truly, my prince," you said with quiet pride.

"There are two women in court who are heavy with babes. Both will be making their entrance into the world and day now. None of the maesters would risk leaving them," he replied with an edge of curtness, words clipped and even. "It was only then I considered you."

Ouch. "Oh," you said, a little taken back. "Well, I still stand by what I said," you added, trying your best to deflect the sting his words gave you.

"Hm," he hummed, smug. It was his turn to smirk, now.

The rest of that first day’s ride went relatively smooth and uneventful. That is, until Aemond got bucked off his horse. It was a miracle you were able to stay on yours! The twins’ horses, while still terribly frightened, appeared to be of a more mellow mind for they were able to be soothed while Arryk scouted ahead to see what might have caused the fright. You dared not leave yours during the ordeal in case you needed to get a galloping headstart. Tension hung in the air until Arryk came back. “A black bear is perhaps a quarter mile away,” he said upon arriving. “I didn’t see any cubs and the beast seemed unbothered by me. It was gorging on berries. Are you alright, my prince?”

Luckily Aemond was able to break his fall. Unfortunately it came at the cost of landing on his forearm upon a ridiculously sharp rock. A jagged cut ripped through his riding gear and into his leanly muscled flesh. You had helped wrap it with a clean linen bandage for now, but crimson bloomed beneath the binding. He would likely need stitches once all of you were settled into an inn for the night. “‘Tis only a scratch. Let’s get to the next town before nightfall, yeah?”

Arryk stole a glance with you, and then his brother, and you once more before nodding to Aemond. "A scratch," his eyes had silently said to you; a flash of sarcasm gone quicker than a blink.

The next town on the road to Duskendale was small and hardly worth mentioning on a map. Climbing roses in full bloom covered the inn's facade making it quaint and homely alike; their heady aroma lingered heavily and you wished you could bottle the fragrance. Echos of the scent followed you inside and mingled with savory foodsmells of dinner. 

"'Fraid we're about full t'night. I hope you all don't want separate rooms," a middle-aged man with wild eyebrows said from behind the bar. He leaned on it as he looked all of you over. "Ain't seen one of you Targaryens around in awhile. Pleasure ta have you, Prince Aemond. Now, what can I do for you lot?"

"Three rooms and dinner for everyone. That's all," Aemond replied as he produced payment for the innkeep.

Turning, the man inspected what keys were left. "Hmm… I have only two rooms available." Pulling the keys from their hooks he handed them over. "One bed in each of 'em."

Yet another tense silence fell over the group. The unmistakable tingle of a blush rushed to your face. Shit shit shit.

"We need three. Surely you can kick someone out for the night," Aemond said a bit too sharply, fingers reaching for another few coins to bribe the man.

"Ha!" He guffawed. "No can do. Prince or no, I have a good reputation and I don't intend on breakin' it."

The twins shared an amused glance and you wanted to die.

"Fine," Aemond said as he took the keys and tossed one set to Arryk and Erryk. "See you at first light to break fast before leaving."

You followed Aemond into the room you'd be sharing for the night. One bed. You hoped it was a big one.

Once inside, any hope of surviving the night with all your sanity and wit vanished in an instant. The bed was tiny. And, as if things could get any worse, there was only one pillow and blanket. Surely Prince Aemond Targaryen never considered this happening.

Tension crackled between you two and you wanted to jump out the equally tiny window and run all the way back to King’s Landing. "At… at least neither of us will be cold in the middle of the night?" You half-stammered, trying, feebly, to break the silence.

"You better not snore, girl." He flashed you an icy glare but the smirk of his mouth spoke to something else. Amusement? A challenge? "I'm going to bathe."

While he was gone you were left to stew on the current predicament. Ever since you first laid eyes on the young prince he never left your brain. To you, he was unbearably dashing and roguishly handsome. He was cold, cruel (according to rumors), and smug in a way that made you want to strangle him and drown him in kisses alike. Over the last year or so you'd helped tend to his wounds a few different times, and each time you left with more butterflies in your belly than before. They said his kin were closer to Gods than men, and you believed it.

After hardly eating during the day you were half-starved. You ate your dinner while he was still gone, and left for the women's side of the bathing quarter before he returned. In your experience not all inn's had the space for a proper bath – you weren’t going to pass this up. 

Upon returning – clean, refreshed, and still warm from the bath – you saw Aemond laying on the bed in his nightclothes with his uninjured arm tucked behind his head. It was stupid – absolutely fucking stupid – how handsome he looked in such a regular position. He was all long, and lean, and sharp angles. You wondered if he housed any softness within himself. He'd got a fire going in the small mantle and it crackled peacefully. Light and shadows accentuated the natural lines of his chiseled face, eyepatch practically orange in the glow. After a moment of awkwardly fumbling with your damp hair, you asked, "how's your arm?"

"'Twas only a scratch. I'm fine," he answered, making no move to shift his position to make more room for you on the bed.

"You're lying. It bled through your bandage on the way here," you retorted, squinting at him suspiciously.

He sighed. "And now it's done bleeding."

Turning, you double checked the latch on the door. Sure of the lock you turned back to Aemond. "Can I at least see it?"

"No."

"Please?"

"Are you deaf, or daft?"

It was your turn to glare at him. "You know, I never truly believed the rumors of you being cruel." You threw a cloth you’d used to help dry your hair onto the table as you stepped, firmly and deliberately, across the small room to the bed. "But now I believe it. You know what your problem is? You are rude." Without allowing yourself to process what you were doing – and not giving him a moment to, either – you were straddling over his lap. Demanding. Determination hardened your features. "Let me see it."

Aemond tensed beneath you and the pupil of his eye swelled. He wasn't expecting this. His jaw feathered as the hand behind his head immediately lunged forward to grab your throat. Squeezing gently, warningly, he smirked. "And you know what your problem is? You are an insolent brat." Your eyes softened to those of a doe and it sent his cock twitching beneath your thinly covered center. "Mayhap you forget who you are speaking to, girl."

Breath shuddered from your lungs. You felt him beneath you and it instantly sent fire rolling through your belly. Desire. Lust. So easily he turned your irritation to something else entirely. "I only want to check on it," you said against his careful grasp, trying your best to appear innocent.

He laughed. "Climbing on my lap like this I think you want something else. Tell me… what more does this bratty little mouth do?" With his question he slowly released his hold from your throat, thumb trailing across the softness of your bottom lip. The darkness of his eye glinted when he heard a faint whimper tickle up through your chest. "You'll have to be louder than that…"

Without having to be told you grazed your tongue along his curious thumb, pulse hammering behind your ribs and between your legs alike. Could he feel how hot you were? Boldness coursed through your blood. "Your Grace…," you simpered, looking at him with dazed eyes. "I've wanted you for so long." You dared to nip the tip of his thumb, gently rolling your tongue beneath it. He tasted clean with hints of wood and smoke from stoking the fire. It made you ache.

"I've other things that need tending to, now. Perhaps if you play by my rules I'll play by yours," he proclaimed, pushing his digit further into your mouth. He hissed quietly with the sensation. Greed and need simmered in his chest, threatening to boil over. You weren’t even doing anything and yet you still drove him near wild.

Your hands spread across his chest. “Those are fair terms,” you said with a playful tilt of your head. Your eyes roamed over his throat and what was exposed of his collarbone. Sleek, pale, warm. He was so warm. How could he be when it was so chilly? You unlaced the lazily tied strings of his cotton sleep shirt, fingernails gently scratching down his front. You smiled when he hissed another inward breath. Beneath you, he neared full hardness. “Needy prince…,” you crooned, sliding from his lap as elegantly as you could so you were laying between his legs. You stroked along his cock through his cotton sleep pants, teasing. “Perhaps Targarenys are closer to men than Gods after all.”

"I like you better with something in your mouth," he said, tutting, as he shifted his legs a bit to give you more room. Now he moved, you thought, how generous of him.

Vibrating with your own need and impatience, you unlaced the front of his pants and tugged them down just enough for his cock to spring free. You gasped, satisfied. "So big, your Grace." He had a lovely cock. Truly. It was hot and solid in your hand when you stroked it, head blushed and swollen without you even having to tug downwards on his length. 

You'd be lying if you didn't secretly hope something like this would happen with the tension of sharing a bed and room. But this? You licked up the underside of his shaft, wrapping your lips around his tip, sucking, and moaned at the sensation and taste.

Aemond groaned. "Is this what all you little medics do, hm? Tend to broken men before swallowing their cock?" He taunted, glaring at you triumphantly, mouth parted in silent bliss.

Instead of answering him verbally, you took more of his length into your wanting mouth. Flattening your tongue against him allowed you to hollow your cheeks. You looked up at him all the while, basking in the way his features changed; the way he somehow tensed and relaxed at the same time. You dragged your mouth up until only his sensitive head was wrapped by your lips, then down, lower, and up again.

"Fuck…," he groaned, eye rolling closed. One hand gripped into the thin faded sheets while his other moved to your damp hair. He threaded his fingers through it, gripping, tugging, just slight. 

Your eyelids trembled as a needy whine broke free from your lips. He popped free from your mouth with the noise. You chased his cockhead; wanton. Saliva built in your mouth and the sounds of you lavishing his cock were borderline obscene. You willingly choked on him; you throbbed as you squeezed your thighs together.

He grinned when you came up for air. His hand unfurled from the bedclothes and moved to the base of his length. He gripped himself and held your head still by your hair, expression widening with smug pride. He smacked his cock against the side of your face, traces of your saliva shiny on your skin. "Who knew my favorite little healer was such a whore, too," he purred. A second and third series of smacks followed. 

Bolts of lust jolted right to your core. You clenched around nothing; arousal gushing from you like syrup. "Aemond…," you gasped, vision hazy. "Please," you begged, unsure what you were truly begging for.

Him. Just him. Whatever he would give you.

"Such a pretty sound from your lips," he said, darkly and adoringly, as he delivered a final slap of his cock to the silky skin of your mouth. He leaned forward and grabbed you by the sides of your arms, pulling you up so you were nearly nose to nose. Without even looking he raked the hems of your sleep gown up while simultaneously yanking your smallclothes down. His fingers slid up your folds, testing your arousal. What he felt sent the entirety of his manhood aching. 

He had to be inside you. Now. 

"This little cunny is soaking. I don't even have to prepare you," he growled, shoving a long finger up into you without hesitation.

You might have peaked from that alone if he'd kept his digit inside you. If he pumped it. If he added a second. But, no, the prince did neither. When he pulled it from you he instantly brought it to his mouth and smeared your slick across his tongue. He smirked and you were sure you'd never been so desperate in your life.

Once again he gripped the sides of your arms and pushed you down into the old used mattress. He maneuvered behind you with ease. True to his word he didn't have to prepare you so he didn't. The young dragon prince guided himself right to your dripping center and eased forward. 

You arched deeper beneath him, supporting yourself on your knees while propping your ass up as much as you could. The stretch your body yielded to his sizable intrusion was glorious. You moaned, barely able to bite it back as he buried all of his rigid inches into your core. When he pulled back to snap his hips into you, you cried out his name.

"Be a good girl and shut up. Unless you want everyone in this inn to know what's going on in here," he said huskily behind you, the tremble in his voice betraying his outwardly restraint.

You tried to be quiet. You really did. But his hand holding the hair at the nape of your neck, and the lewd slaps of your smacking skin, and the pant of his breaths, had you wild with bliss and excitement. "So good… fuck! Aemond…! S-so good," you whimpered, body becoming lighter by the second.

The half babbled praises from your pretty mouth had the prince soaring. He gripped harshly onto one of your hips while the fingers of the other snaked beneath your pelvis to work your clit. "Wanna eat this pretty cunt 'til you're crying, too. Will you let me?"

"Please! Yes, yes, yes please," you answered as if in prayer.

His pace quickened, the angle of his strokes hitting you deep and hard, cockhead dragging and battering against that wonderful patch of nerves inside your walls. Leaning forward, his silken hair tickled your back. He bit into your shoulder, harshly drawing your flesh between his teeth so he could mark you.

You squirmed beneath him. Gasping, you basked in the sharp sensation of his teeth. It was the final thing you needed to lose yourself to the euphoria.

"Give it to me," Aemond growled in your ear. "Give your Prince your pleasure. Squeeze my cock like the little whore you are."

You did.

He fucked you through it, chasing his own high all the while. When you became too loud he turned your face into the mattress to muffle your noises. It helped. It also made all those sounds all the sweeter. For Aemond, it was the final thing he needed to lose himself as well. With a groan from deep within his chest, he pulled out of you at the last second and released his spend all over your back. It shone upon your skin. He couldn't help but admire it and he had half a mind to make you sleep with it on your back; marking you with his teeth and scent alike.

Slowly, you both came down from the natural high of orgasm. That cloth you brought in earlier was put to good use. 

"I don't mind that the bed is so small, now," you said as you both got comfortable beneath the blanket. Laying on your sides seemed the best way; him, the big spoon.

"Me either," he replied, a grin audible in his voice.

You found yourself no longer caring about the state of his arm. Not with the way it laid over your waist and rested up between your breasts. He held you against him.

Sleep came easy. 

When you woke up to Aemond's morning-stiff cock against your back you knew you had to find a reason to share a room with him for every night of the journey.

He would make it happen, he told himself, as he drew a lovely climax from you with his mouth before burying himself into you once again. All, before dawn cracked over the horizon.

-

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow, and/or reblog, and/or letting me know as it all makes me vvvery happy! ♥

Masterlist

To be added or removed from the taglist, please let me know!

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[princessaxoxo]

⟡₊ ⊹ 𝒶 𝓉𝒶𝓈𝓉ℯ ℴ𝒻 𝓈𝓊𝑔𝒶𝓇: 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝐼𝐼 ⟡₊ ⊹

sugar daddy!henry cavill x burlesque dancer!curvy reader

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚

❥ 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: an enticing encounter at a burlesque club leads to an interesting offer.

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚

❥ 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: After surprising you with a day out, Henry takes you out for an enjoyable evening and goes to watch you dance.

❥ 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 18+, teasing, flirting, kissing, vulgar language, lil bit of fluff

❥ 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 2.5k+

❥ 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚

Not long after your lunch with Henry, he requested your address for Thursday evening. At first, you were skeptical, but after your agreement with Henry and agreeing to go out with him, you happily obliged. 

Unexpectedly, he gave you a call the day before your night out with him, asking if he could drop by. As this was all new to you, you nervously stuttered out a yes. After ending the call, you looked down at the outfit you were wearing; it wasn’t special, as you planned to stay in and figure out what to wear for tomorrow. 

Along with your worn-out college t-shirt and bootcut leggings, your hair looked a little unkempt. In what seemed like a very short amount of time, you quickly combed out your hair and styled it as cutely as you could. After going through your closet, you chose a pair of pants that accentuated your posterior and a tight blue v-neck top. 

Before you knew it, you heard a car pull into your driveway, and as you peered out your window, Henry was getting out of his car. Not long after the doorbell rang, you walked to the mirror for one final check to make sure you looked decent before going downstairs to open your front door.

"Good morning," he said with a smile, and you smiled back. "I wanted to come by and ask if you had a gown for tomorrow night already."

When you embarrassingly told him no, he said, "Let's go buy you one then, wherever you decide."

Anywhere you decide? That might include a thousand shops—places you never would have imagined yourself able to shop for clothing. Naturally, you replied okay and asked him to stay inside for a little while so you could finish getting dressed and go.

After putting his hand on your lower back and guiding you into his vehicle, Henry proceeded to his side to get in the car. "Which store do you want to go to?" Since he was more than prepared to spend money on you for what you desired, you reasoned with yourself: Here is your chance. You mentioned the most expensive store you've wanted to visit for a very long time, without hesitation. "Perfect," he stated simply.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

As Henry opened the door for you and you walked in, you became overwhelmed. Inside were white walls with marble flooring and shelves lined with purses that were arranged one after the other. Little round tables with decorations were positioned in the center. As you proceeded farther inside the shop, you noticed that the jewelry was housed in cases on the opposite side, right across from the purses.

Someone from the staff approached you and asked if you needed assistance. Saying nothing more than "a new dress," you were led by her to the recently arrived dresses. How could you choose just one? You wondered, because they were all so beautiful.

There were several colored heels arranged next to the dresses.

The associate added, "Just let me know if you need any help," and turned to go.

Henry asked whether you spotted anything you liked as you looked over the different gowns. Honestly, there were a lot of items you liked. Saying "yes," you started choosing the gowns that most appealed to you. Henry would always get the item for you when you went to grab it.

You had selected four gowns and were prepared to try them on. Gorgeous shades of pink, burgundy, gold, and silver. One by one, you were finding it quite difficult to choose. Henry was waiting for you as you emerged from the dressing room.

"Which one have you chosen?" You sighed in response to Henry's question. "I couldn't decide."

With a confused look on his face, he asked where the dresses you picked out were. As you pointed at the associate, he walked directly toward them. You weren’t sure the words exchanged between the two, but he came back with all four of the dresses you selected. “Have you had the chance to look at the accessories and shoes yet?”

When you told him no, he got an associate to show you the best accessories and shoes in the store.

Once more, it was difficult to decide what you wanted. You chose from a plethora of different colored heels. Regarding the black pair you were wearing at the time, you questioned the associate, "What do you think?" She said the heels looked great right away, so you didn't really believe her.

It occurred to you; perhaps you should get Henry's input. As you turned to face him again, you noticed that he was already looking at you. He began walking toward you when you made a signal for him to come closer.

“How do they look?” Fortunately, you had previously gone and had your toes done. If you hadn't, you would be self-conscious about how they looked. He briefly looked at the shoes before returning his gaze to you and staring at you for a little while longer. "Unable to decide?" You chuckled at his question. "Basically."

"Black." With his eyes fixed on yours, he declared, "I favor the black heels the most."

"Take every pair of heels to the front as well," he stated, turning to face the associate.

There was a part of you that started to feel guilty because this was undoubtedly over a thousand dollars. "I want you to look at the accessories and jewelry."

At first glance, you were drawn to a set of silver drop earrings and knew you just had to have them. As you browsed the accessories, you noticed that the long mesh burgundy gloves would go perfectly with the burgundy dress.

The moment Henry saw that you were interested in the burgundy gloves, he turned back to the matching dress. And it occurred to him that he needed to purchase a tie that complemented your attire.

When you were done and came back to him, he led you to the register, where you were shocked to see him pay for the outfits, shoes, and accessories. "What made you do that?" you questioned. "Since you were unable to choose, I want you to have them all."

"Thank you, Henry."

At the sound of his name falling from your lips, it sounded angelic. He realized he wanted to hear you say his name as he pounded into you.

It was becoming more difficult by the moment for him to keep his composure while staring at you. "Baby doll, you really need to get used to this."

A blush emerged, and the two of you started to exit the shop.

With his hands full of your belongings, he still managed to hold the door open for you. Henry didn’t want the day to end just yet. "Would you like to have lunch? I know this restaurant right down the street." Lunch did seem appealing because you realized you hadn't eaten anything yet. "Yes, lunch sounds great."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

On the morning of your date with Henry, you were nervous and excited. You went about your morning as normal, but from the moment you woke up until it was time to start getting dressed, butterflies had been swarming around in your stomach. You had made the decision to curl your hair in waves as you started getting ready early.

Luckily, your hair behaved itself and looked fantastic. Once your hair was done, you started applying makeup. You wanted to avoid going for an overly dramatic look since you chose the burgundy dress. It would look nice to go with a neutral look, adding eyeliner, and wear matching burgundy lips.

With every step of your makeup routine, you took your time.

Once you were done, you unhung your dress and slipped into it, doing your hardest to shimmy it past your posterior and thighs until it was fully up and you could get your arms through the straps.

It was ten minutes to six when you looked at your clock and realized how quickly the time had gone by. Quickly adding the lengthy drop silver earrings, you quickly slipped your hands into the long mesh gloves and placed your feet into the black six-inch heels.

A knock at your front door caught your attention as you were taking one last glance in the mirror before reaching for your purse.

After taking a deep breath to ease your nerves, you exited your room to go and greet Henry.

Henry was taken aback when he saw you. He was at a loss for words. In every aspect, you looked stunning. After that, he was drawn to the way your body fit into the dress, your curves, and the way your breasts were perfectly pushed up. He wanted to hold both of them in his hands and kiss each nipple, expressing his desire for both.

"Shall we?" Henry asked, holding out his hand for you to take. Putting your hand in his, you said, "Yes."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

Henry guided you into the restaurant with his hand on your lower back. The interior was magnificent. A light blue hue with clouds was painted on the ceiling. The restaurant featured gold round tables arranged around the room, with a chandelier suspended in the center of the space. Every table had champagne glasses, and the entire restaurant was filled with the sound of a soft but beautiful melody.

Henry was conversing with the hostess as you were preoccupied with examining the restaurant. You were soon drawn away from your attention at the restaurant by the sound of his breath close to your ear. "Let’s go."

Henry walked behind you until you arrived at the table together. He stopped and pulled your seat out for you. "Thank you."

Henry asked for wine, and it was brought right away to the table.

He had his hair slicked back and his beard freshly trimmed. A blush and a chuckle appeared as you glanced over his gray suit and noticed that his tie matched your outfit. "My dress and your tie match." 

He stated, "I know, I planned on it," without lowering his gaze from where it was fixed on you. "I saw your interest in these and knew you would wear the burgundy dress," he continued, taking hold of your left hand.

You thought to yourself, Did he really pay that much attention? That would have gone unnoticed by most. You also didn't expect he would give you such meticulous attention simply because he was your sugar daddy.

"You look absolutely beautiful, if I hadn't said it already tonight," Henry went on to say.

A blush appeared; it seemed that each time he spoke to you, he made you blush, and you were growing to love it.

"You look handsome, and thank you."

Similar to the first time, you both settled into a comfortable conversion. You soon realized that perhaps you shouldn't have worn the gloves when dinner arrived, but Henry grasped your hands and asked, "May I?" After you nodded, he took off your gloves and planted a kiss on your hand.

Heated waves from his kiss penetrated your entire body. And you thanked him breathlessly.

It was not what he had purchased you or where he had taken you that brought you fulfillment, but rather the fact that everything between you two felt natural. Something you hadn't experienced before.

Your curiosity was piqued by the suggestion, "There is a bar outside that overlooks the city if you'd like to go see it," and you enthusiastically agreed, albeit a little tipsy.

He was closer this time, his body against your back, unlike before.

As soon as you two got there, he led you up to the railing, and you gasped at the view of the city. You began to intentionally rub your ass against him, still feeling the heat of his body behind you.

Henry's slacks tightened as his cock hardened, and he leaned forward. "Are you happy with this view?" Henry sensed you rubbing your ass against him once again as you said, "Yes, it's breathtaking."

Henry whispered, "Yes, it is," as he looked at you. Then you felt his lips lingering over your neck and your hair being pushed to the side. You spun around and gave him a glance. You wanted to feel the softness of his lips against yours.

"Kiss me," you said.

The kiss was hungry; you hadn't even realized that you'd been driving him wild the whole night. As he started to lick along your neck and suck on your sweet spot, his hand gripped one of your breasts. Tiny whimpers began to escape your mouth.

Henry and your attention were diverted as someone suddenly cleared their throat. "I apologize, but you aren't allowed to do that here." Henry and you both began to laugh at the employee’s comment.

He nodded in agreement as you said, "I think we should go." 

As you were on your front porch, laughing and nodding your head, trying to remove your lipstick from his face, Henry stated, "I'll be in touch, and if you need anything, call me," before he planted a final kiss on your cheek and turned to leave.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

"Okay, sugar, it’s fixed; now hurry and get your pretty self into it.” The seamstress at the club rushed you to the dressing room. The diamond one piece that you were wearing tonight for your performance accentuated your curves; it was also paired with a diamond garter belt and shimmer stockings.

As you walked out, Natasha walked up to you, saying, “You have a visitor."

Noticing Henry waiting for you, you walked up to him. "Hey, why are you back here?" you asked as there were a million girls rushing trying to get ready for the show tonight.

"I have something for you," In his hands was a velvet box, which he opened to reveal a diamond necklace. Grinning, you asked, "Are you going to put it on me or keep it in there?" He instructed you to turn around without hesitation, and then he quickly attached the diamond necklace behind your neck.

It'd only been a couple of weeks since that first date night with Henry and you grew accustomed to him giving you allowances and occasionally surprising you with expensive gifts.

"Are you going to stay?" Leaning forward, you pressed your hands to his chest. "I will be upfront, of course." Henry walked out to take his seat as your name was called to come on stage.

Henry took his promised seat in the front row as "Diamonds Are A Girl's Best Friend" began to play. The way you wore the diamond necklace he proudly bought you drove him crazy, and he wanted to be in the greatest spot to watch you perform.

His mind started to drift to the way the necklace would appear around your neck while you bounced on his cock.

You moved to the front of the stage so that he could see you teasingly shake your ass in front of him. As your relationship developed, it became more playful and flirtatious, and you relished watching him get worked up over you.

After the performance Henry met with you again, telling you, “Baby doll, start packing your favorite clothes and bikinis. I'm taking you on a trip to greece.”

˚₊⭑‧꒰ა [Tag list] ໒꒱ ‧₊⭑˚

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[cows-wearing-my-sweater]

eternal summer [part one]

part two: [soon]

word count: 2207 warnings: none ! notes: will get part two done as soon as i can, particularly if you guys seem to enjoy this <3 please always lmk your thoughts, don't be shy !!

You met him in the wintertime; he was all grey smoke and black coats and pale fingers blushed with red from the cold air. You had been at Charli’s house (practically a second home to you after years of friendship) watching the late-December snowfall while basking in the warm comfort of her living room, when a loud, almost obnoxious knocking came from the front door. Charli was quick to get up, rolling her eyes good-naturedly and simply saying, “It’s just Matty.” 

The two of them stood in her doorway talking, Matty undoubtedly looking for George. Your gaze returned to the soft and snowy scene outside the window, allowing you to become lost in thought. Matty, you said in your head. Best friend’s boyfriend’s best friend. Enough degrees of separation away for you to be vaguely aware of him, but not near enough for you to have met him before. Charli had plenty of stories to tell, of course, but that was about it. Curly-haired singer with a loud personality, a soft heart, and, according to several anecdotes you’d previously heard, someone who should be filed under Men Who Can Do You No Good. You had your doubts about the sources you’d gotten that from, though. 

You were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard Charli say to Matty, “Yeah, she’s just over there.” 

You turned to look over at the doorway. Matty was craning his neck slightly, as if trying to get a good look at you over on the couch. You sat further up and waved to him. “Hey.” It was your first time really seeing him, and you did your best to take in as many details as possible without blatantly staring: the few stray curls that escaped the rest of his neatly gelled hair, his slight stubble, the small silver hoop that hung from his ear, the way his eyes crinkled when he returned your smile.

“Hi.” He paused, giving you just a moment to collect yourself again. “I’m Matty.” He sounded almost awkward, like he wanted to say something witty or cool but had completely drawn a blank. You told him your name, he nodded, he said something to Charli, he left. That was that, completely (maybe disappointingly) unmonumental. 

Charli sat down next to you on the couch again. “Did he seem tense to you?” she asked.

You gave a noncommittal shrug of your shoulders. “Dunno. You know him better than I do.” Although, a very small part of you couldn’t help but briefly wonder what it would be like if you did know him better. What if you could tell when he was tense, what if you knew all the tells of when he was anxious, what if you could read his mind and he could read yours? You stopped before you got even further ahead of yourself. You sound insane, you told yourself. It was enough to make you decide to push Matty out of your thoughts for the foreseeable future. Besides, it would be quite a while before you’d have to see him again.

Except it wasn’t. Just two weeks later, you found yourself back in Charli’s home, the familiar air smelling of pine and cinnamon from the lit candles. Charli had decked the house out in fairy lights and colorful, sparkling ornaments – it was a Christmas party, after all. “Party” was a bit of an overstatement, though. Really it was just you, her, George, and the other three guys, with Carly accompanying Adam. 

Your eyes landed on Matty almost immediately after walking inside. This time, instead of the drab coat and slicked-back hair, he was drowning in a fuzzy, oversized jumper and had let his curls loose. They framed his face perfectly, and something about seeing him in this setting – warm, cozy, inviting – made your heart briefly skip a beat.

Halfway through the night you were perfectly at home with the group of people who had been near strangers just hours before. Everybody had drinks in hand, conversation was flowing with ease, and a warm glow seemed to illuminate the whole room. In your slightly tipsy state, you allowed yourself to sneak furtive glances in Matty’s direction – what harm could come from a little crush on him? He was cute, he was funny, he was intriguing. It would be weird for me to not be interested, you reasoned with yourself. It was just then that your thoughts were interrupted by yet another reason to keep him on your mind: his fucking fingers. The flicker of his lighter had drawn your eyes to his hands and the way they fidgeted with a cigarette before pressing it to his lips. Matty’s face was briefly highlighted in a bloom of yellow-orange, before the flame went out and was replaced by wisps of grey smoke. You blatantly stared  at his index and middle fingers as they held the cigarette to his lips, then studied the shape those lips took when he blew the smoke out to the side, wondering how they would feel against yours, soft and hungry. 

At this thought, you stood and excused yourself to the kitchen, deciding that another drink was in order. You were almost certain you could feel Matty’s eyes burning into your back as you walked away, but you weren’t sure if it was wishful thinking or anxious paranoia on your part. 

The sound of conversation from the other room was slightly muted in the kitchen, but it wasn’t long before you heard familiar footsteps behind you. You turned around, already knowing it was Charli. “He hasn’t got a girlfriend, you know,” she said with a sly smile.

You furrowed your brow in feigned confusion. This would not become something she could hold over you. “Sorry, who are we talking about?”

“Matty, obviously!” she exclaimed loudly. You gave her a warning glance, petrified that her voice would carry and your little crush would have to come to a swift end.

“I’m not interested.” Charli raised her eyebrows at your words. “Well, maybe I’m attracted, but I’m not interested!”

Your friend knew you well enough to understand that the topic was moot. There would be no changing your mind – at least, not that night. Charli began to sidle out of the kitchen, but not without saying, “I’ll keep my eye on you two,” in a teasing voice.

.♡♡♡.♡♡♡.♡♡♡.

And then it’s summer. Everything is the same, but now there’s a gold filter over it all. Everything is different, but the air still smells the way it did in the summer five years ago. Summer is a constant. Time will always pass and everything will always keep moving, but when the time is right, the sun will always warm your skin, and if you try hard enough, your skin starts to glow the way it did when you were six years old. 

One thing you’ve learned since May, when the weather really got warm and the sunsets began to linger a little while longer, is that Matty Healy is luminous in the summertime. Your interactions with him have become more frequent since that December, giving you the opportunity to watch him metamorphosize. Without you particularly realizing, lunch dates and movies and late night drives with him have become a part of your weekly schedule. Charli had been determined to work her magic, and while no romantic endeavors had occurred, her set-ups for the two of you had undoubtedly helped form one of the most meaningful friendships in your life.

You’re definitely over that stupid crush. 

There’s no time to contemplate your previous budding infatuation anyway, because a car has pulled up outside your home and the driver is incessantly honking on the horn. Speak of the devil. You grab your tote bag filled with a towel, snacks, sunscreen, sunglasses, and a paperback book and dash out of your front door, sandals hitting the ground loudly. 

Both the driver’s and passenger’s doors of Matty’s car have been thrown open. Alison by Slowdive is playing softly through the car speakers as you slide into your seat and place your bag on the floor between your legs. Matty raises his sunglasses up away from his eyes, pushing some of his hair out of his face. “You ready?”

“Mhm.” You have to bite your tongue in order to not say more, seeing as your heart rate has increased tenfold at the sight of Matty. Every button of his white short-sleeve shirt is undone, the collar hanging loosely around his neck. His tattooed arms are sunkissed, almost golden, as if a goddess of the sun blessed him with her touch. Glimpses of the tattoo across his chest peek out from his undone shirt, contrasting with the bright fabric. You’re filled with the insatiable desire to remove the shirt and press your fingertips to the ink, the only barrier left between you and his bones being that thin layer of skin. You could melt into each other.

There’s not much need for small talk today. Soon enough you’re speeding down an empty rural road, windows down and music loud. Matty is rhythmically tapping on the wheel to the beat of the music, while you reach your arm out the window and let yourself become enveloped by the roaring warm wind. Occasionally you turn your attention back to Matty and the soft smile that appears on his face as he mouths the words to the song. He could smile at you and the world could crumble down at your feet and you wouldn’t care; all you can see is Matty.

After a lengthy drive, a sparkling expanse of water comes into view, the sandy beach completely deserted save for two figures you can see in the distance – Charli and George. You have a feeling that this beach day is another one of Charli’s attempts to set you up with Matty, and for once you don’t feel so eager to protest; not when his eyes are pools of honey and his cheeks are dusted pink from the sun and his perfectly sculpted figure is right in front of you like this.

When you and Matty have carried your things down to the beach where Charli and George have placed their bags, the two of them are already down in the water; Charli’s loud laughter carries up to the sand where you stand with Matty. “They’re really cute together, aren’t they?” you say wistfully, almost to yourself.

“Yeah… yeah, they are.” You’ve discarded the large cotton shirt you were using as a cover-up for the black two-piece you had beneath it, and Matty’s eyes are trained on you. A pause before it hits you:

He’s staring he’s staring he’s staring fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck–

Matty clears his throat. His face is burning bright red now, and you’re quite certain he hasn’t formed a sunburn this quickly. “Sunscreen?” he says weakly.

“Sorry?”

“Uhm, would you like help with your sunscreen, I mean.”

“Oh!” Your mouth takes a moment to catch up with your brain. “Yes, please!.” You dig around in your bag for the sunscreen and hand it to him before turning around, your back facing him.

The cool lotion on your back applied by his warm and calloused hands nearly makes you gasp. You bite down on your lower lip and tense your shoulders, though the goosebumps across your skin give you away regardless. Matty’s hands work the lotion into your skin, fingers practically massaging your shoulders. Your eyelids flutter close, and before you can stop yourself, you let out a soft, contented sigh. Matty’s fingers pause and your eyes shoot open.

Fuck.

It wasn’t even that bad don’t worry it’s fine don’t worry–

Fuck.

Matty quickly finishes applying the sunscreen and takes his hands off you, allowing you to face him once again. His lips are parted almost imperceptibly and you’re sure he can hear your thoughts racing – a mortifying idea, as all you can think about is silencing his next words with your mouth on his, hungry like he’s fresh fruit, letting him drip down your lips to your chin.

“Are you two having a moment?”

You nearly jump out of your skin. You didn’t even notice Charli making her way up the beach toward you. A knowing look is on her face as she picks up a towel and wraps it around herself, telepathically screaming “Tell me fucking everything” at you. 

“No, we’re just–” You start, but Matty is quick to interrupt.

“We just realized we forgot something in my car, actually! Come help me find it?” Matty looks at you pointedly, nearly begging for you to go along with this. And who are you to say no?

“Yeah, yeah, of course! Tell George we’ll be right back, alright?” you tell Charli.

Before she can get a word in edgewise, Matty takes your hand in his and adamantly whisks you away. You wave to Charli, who’s watching with an open-mouthed smile, before returning your attention to the task of keeping up with Matty’s fast pace. His grip on your hand, the serious expression on his face, the white shirt slipping down his shoulder – you’re suddenly faced with the unsavory realization that you’re not, nor have you ever been, over that stupid crush.

On the contrary, you’re utterly fucked.

[midnightsapphire]

imagine a soulmate!au with aemond

color is nonexistent until you first meet eyes with your soulmate.

to aemond? the world has always been bleak, grey, cold.. alone. he envied the lords and ladies of the court that always spoke of the vibrant and beautiful colors of their houses, of the world around them

but he didn't envy the pain in knowing as lords and ladies of the court, they were destined to pine for their soulmate as they were dragged into loveless marriages

some were lucky- but it was a rare feat to the younger targaryen.

part of him wished he could see the world as it was. beautiful, vibrant.

but as he grew older, being introduced to several ladies of the court in hopes to find a beneficial match, he began to lose hope when he would continue to see the world in monotone as he did for a large portion of his life

even moreso when he loses his eye, only attracting fear and disgust at being crippled, maimed, undesirable (so the people have whispered when they believe he is not listening)

his 18th nameday was no different, having hid away behind a few tapestries to avoid his mother's doting and introducing him to different "important" people of the court

or his ever so lovely sister dragging him for a dance as he stood- stiff as a board- and followed her movements less than gracefully

"i would loathe to be the one that has to stare at that for the rest of my life"

"who would want to lay with the one eyed prince, i heard the skin under perished-"

"i heard it's as grotesque as the scar that peeks out, gods forbid anyone be tied down to that."

"it's no wonder the prince aegon had to pay a woman to lay with him. no silver in the world could be enough."

it was enough, he had hurt enough

"well i heard it was unfitting of a lady to speak such horrid things."

it was a voice that made him stop in his tracks, looking over his shoulder as he saw the back of a woman from an unknown house, her hand loosely dangling a goblet of wine inbetween her middle and ring fingers

"don't tell me you'd be the poor sap that would stomach looking at that maimed face all day and night." they said with shocked gasps as aemond tried to decipher the face of the woman who had shrugged her shoulders

"a face is a face, he is a prince. a loyal and dutiful one at that."

"but he-"

"studies philosophy? trains with the way of the blade and has been deemed one of the best- if not the best fighters in all seven realms? rides the largest beast in the world? i see nothing wrong with him."

"he lacks an eye, (Y/N)"

"and you lack brains, should you be lucky you don't also lack a tongue with the treasonous lies you spit about your prince." she scoffed, continuing her rant as the ladies gasp at the emerging prince, bowing their heads as they scurried off, much to (Y/N)'s chagrin.

"of course you all run away, you spineless flock of-"

"lady (Y/N), was it?"

and his voice was enough to make the woman stiffen, her hands falling at her sides as she slowly turns around, her eyes hesitating to meet his as they both freeze in place

it was as if time stopped the moment aemond met her eyes, his breath hitching and his palms growing sweaty as vibrant specks of blues, gold, various greens flooded his eyes, meeting (Y/N)'s glistening eyes as he could by the small glimmer that the same was happening to her

he released the breath he had been holding when a smile grew on her face, shaking them both out of their state as she laid a hand over her ever beating heart

"my prince.."

A/N - i hate the execution but i needed to get this out of my head before it killed me

[beesneedswords]

Final Rest

Ascended Astarion ending. 🪷

Masterlist

You sit and stare at the wall as you finally take a bath. It's the first one in weeks, but you're finally free of the tadpole in your head, and free of the Brain. You and Astarion have bought Cazador's Palace, to him it was another step in gaining himself back, to you it was a house, finally. A place to lay your head, a place to make your own. You were thinking blue instead of red, it's a royal color, but you also love how Astarion looks in it. You contemplate the pattern for the curtains when Astarion walks in.

You don't notice, but he stands and watches you for a minute, "Almost done, darling?" You're startled, but not frightened. He smiles at you, not a full smile, a small one you haven't seen him have since the ritual.

"I was thinking of redecorating." You stand and wrap a towel around yourself, "I was thinking blue."

"Whatever you want. I know you'll make it look perfect, just like you." He kissed your hand as you both walk to your room, "The red is a bit too much anyways, and I'd like a change."

You stand as he sits on the bed, drying yourself off. In his eyes you see the same darkness from when he turned you into his spawn. The power, determination, and degrading look he gives you. You don't mind that you have lowered yourself, but you now worry you won't be enough for his ever growing ego. The thought slips away as his hands lay on your hips and his eyes are now softer, the old Astarion reflected in them.

"I want to fulfill what I said, before you turned." He pulls you to him, "A decade in each other's arms."

Your heart leaps, maybe you were wrong, he's still the same vampire you fell in love with. He kisses you and you both collapse onto the bed, the last few months weighing you down. You hope to sleep for a decade in his arms.

You turn to look at him, his eyes are closed. You admire his pale skin and the bruises and scars from previous battles that are starting to fade. Your fingers comb through his hair and his muscles loosen, you never realized how tense he always was. With the mindflayer, Absolute cultists, Cazador's ritual, and the Brain, there's no wonder he has been living on the edge all this time.

You twist the silver strands around your index finger and notice the red eyes on you, "Thank you." His voice barely a whisper.

"For what, love?" You ask, his eyes close again and he pulls you against his body, "Star, what is it?"

"You saved me, you helped me become what I am." He sighs, "I'm honestly surprised you did."

"I want you to be happy. You lived two centuries in torment, I want you to finally feel love."

"Love."

The words leave his lips, but he's still unsure of the real meaning. He thinks what he's done to you, sharing his newfound power and his new purpose is love. Maybe it is, but love to you is going to the ends of the world to keep what you have, killing anyone who would dare threaten it. It's putting yourself aside for other people. You know he is still learning what it means to be someone's everything, so you push aside your thoughts for now.

You lay your head on his chest and listen, but there is no sound. No heartbeat you'd expect to hear. Slowly your eyes get heavy, and you do as he'd hope. You spend a decade in each other's arms. Together you redecorate the palace into a beautiful blue, you host your late companions over when you can. You don't leave each other's side for a decade. You couldn't be happier.

[hungwy]

We missed the last train of the night due to the snow. It was the first snow Tokyo had in a while, apparently. None of us seemed dressed for that kind of wet cold. No gloves, just jackets, hats. We were worried for a little bit about how we would get back to the dorms. We waited a long time for a taxi. A long time. The snow had built up on everything in thick layers. I was used to snow but could not ignore how the cold penetrated my pocketed hands to the bone. We stood outside some building, I cannot remember now what it was, but freezing puddles formed around our shoes, kept liquid by some unseen heat source. The puddles reflected all the reds and blues and golds of the city lights. It was quiet for a city. I was tired.

A taxi finally arrived after a while. Just long enough to make its arrival a celebratory affair. We hurried inside it. I sat in the back, on the left, behind the passenger seat. My friends took the front seat and the seat next to me. Someone showed the driver the university address on their phone. In broken Japanese my friends both attempted small talk with the driver, an older man, but he seemed reticent, probably tired. I can't remember if he even responded with real words--probably focused on not crashing the taxi in the fresh slick snow. I knew how to drive in snow. I wonder, in all his long years, if he ever got used to it. The snow had been falling for some time now. Everything was capped in that snow, diffusing the golden glow of the street lights. Were they gold, I wonder? Maybe some were silver. I can't remember any more. It reflected the colors of the night, the still, freezing night which churned under an endless dark grey cloud. I'd seen those clouds before, in the winters of home, and they made me feel comfortable, warm, like a great blanket stretched across the sky.

I remember how the taxi cruised through the thin residential alleys of Tokyo, lined with small one- or two-story houses, stone fences barely interjecting between the property and the street. Most houses did not have their lights on. Fence after gate after fence after wall flickered past. I fell asleep, or pretended to be asleep, or failed to fall asleep, for a long while. I love sleeping in cars. I always have, since I was a kid.

It was a very long drive. I don't remember how I ended up back in the dorm. Where were we even coming from, then, when we missed our train? Were we split from a larger group? By ourselves, us three? Did we go out to eat, go to see some place? I don't remember any more. I remember the night, the cold, the snow, the frozen world, and the pleasant doom of knowing something would become a memory. Something I would regurgitate and reconsume in my mind until all the realness had left. The snow made sure the memory would become imaginary, picturesque. My eyes engulfed the fluttering, transient frames of the lamp-lit snowy streets. Those pictures which with use would eventually smear and blur into puddles of soft form and color, as they do even now. I wish I had written anything at all then. None of it would've been good, but just to preserve the detail, to remind myself of real, solid things. It's all slowly melting away, now, so soft

[starboyshoyo]

A New Beginning

Pairing: Silver x fem!reader (romantic). Lilia Vanrouge (platonic)

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland

Word Count: 800

Genre: fluff; hurt/comfort

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, afab reader, pregnancy. Nothing explicit.

After your wedding to Silver, you have a heart-to-heart with your new father-in-law.

The murmur of the wedding guests surrounds you, muffled through the thick padding of a private tent’s curtains. There was more than enough chatter happening inside the tent as well, though- for your new father-in-law, Lilia Vanrouge, wasn’t one for silence.

“Oh, and don’t forget this,” Lilia hums as he drops another one of his ‘good luck charms’ onto the steadily-growing pile in Silver’s arms. “It’s a coin from an ancient civilization that I fought against in my glory days- consider it a christening gift for the new house!” He sniffs dramatically. “My little boy is all grown up now, and living on his own~”

“Father, I’ve been living in my own home for a year now,” Silver chides him. Still, he balances the heap of mismatched items in his hands with great care- a testament to how much his father’s love meant to him. “And I won’t be alone. Y/N will be living there as well-“

“Silver!” An excited voice calls your new husband’s name. A very tipsy Kalim stumbles towards you, almost crashing into your shoulder when he gives you a kiss on the cheek in greeting. Jamil follows, not far behind him. The two Scarabian boys are still wearing their groomsmen outfits, though Kalim’s is noticeably stained with wine.

“Silver, we’ve been looking all over for you!” Kalim hiccups, grinning, “Jamil and I prepared a present for you, but we weren’t able to give it to you before the wedding. Come on!” He tugs at Silver’s sleeve.

Jamil sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What Kalim means to say is that I prepared a wedding gift for you,” he explained to Silver, an emphasis on the word I. “It’s quite heavy and unwieldy, so we’d appreciate it if you could follow us so we may present it to you without having to lug it all the way over here.”

“What he said!” Kalim slurs. “It’s so awesome, I promise! Just come and see!”

Silver looks between the two boys. “I suppose if my wife is okay with it, I could spare some time.” He looks towards you. “You were feeling nauseous earlier. Will you be alright on your own?”

“Of course,” you assure Silver, “Go have fun! There’s plenty of time for us to spend together later.”

Silver nods, before being led away by the duo.

Now, alone in the tent with Lilia, you ponder what to say. The ancient fae had watched the exchange with an amused smirk that belied his age. It was always a bit strange how much more youthful he seemed; even more so than his own son.

You’re saved from having to make conversation when Lilia speaks first. “I’m glad Silver has found such a wonderful wife to be by his side,” he smiles at you. “Why, if he hadn’t wed you, I’d be minding him until the day his hair turned gray.”

That gets a laugh out of you. Of course, your beloved husband’s hair is already gray. The unusual color of his hair was the reason Lilia named him Silver in the first place. Still, the implications of the jibe are not lost on you- Lilia is a fae, while Silver is human. He would watch his own son grow old many times over before he acquired a single wrinkle of his own.

“It must be hard,” you say aloud, “to be an immortal fae. To know that one day, you will outlive your own kin.”

It’s macabre talk for a wedding. The old wives tales’ you heard as a child hiss at you from the back of your mind, warning you to hush up. But Lilia doesn’t seem to mind.

“It is,” he affirms. “To live a long life is to walk a different path than those you love. But I can rest easy now, knowing that my son has you to walk alongside him and care for him, even in your old age.”

He meets your gaze with his own piercing eyes, full of wisdom beyond the visible years. Then, suddenly, he breaks into a smile. “Or… at least he’ll get a taste of cooking other than my own.”

You giggle.The serious atmosphere disperses itself, as if it had never existed at all. “Alright, grandpa. Whatever you say.”

“Grandpa? Are you perhaps trying to tell me something, my dear daughter-in-law?”

You pause, glancing down at your midsection. “Well, yes, actually.”

“Well, I’ll be! You could have just led with that.” Lilia booms out a laugh. “How long?”

“Just a few weeks,” your voice drops to a hush, “But don’t tell Silver just yet! I’m planning to surprise him later.”

Lilia chuckles. “I suppose I can stay quiet, then.”

While the old fae is calm on the outside, you didn't miss the way his eyes lit up with mirth at the news of your promise- a promise of new life.

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[thebadboyfanclub]

Lead The Way (Aemond x Reader)

So I wanted to write something that was inspired by the kind of love morticia and Gomez had so this is what I came up with, it’s very rare that I find something completely fluffy for Aemond, I hope you guys feel like this as well

The love that (y/n) Dayne and Aemond Targaryen held for one another remained in history for centuries, the couple had seemed to fall in love at first sight.

(Y/n) had been invited to court for Heleanas and Aegons wedding, a young girl at the time dressed in her house colors of purple, her hair was up in a fancy style so you could see the mixture of silver hair with her raven black locks, Aemond had stared at her hair for the entire ceremony, to him it resembled like the gold locks were lighting that struck the earth, she was perfect as she stood with her shoulders held back and whispered stuff to her friend that was the second daughter of the Martell line.

How could have Aemond known (y/n) was whispering about him? She was taken by the prince with the long Maine and the mysterious eye patch, she found the scar utterly intriguing and almost fitting for the frame of his face, scars tell a story and (y/n) wanted to read all about it.

“Pardon for the intrusion, could I ask for the lady (y/n)s hand for a dance?”

“Lead the way, my prince”

They did not utter a word for the entirety of the dance, they just gawked at one another with a smirk, it was like their souls were twirling around as the other couples felt like they were interrupting a wonderful union that blossomed in front of everyone’s eyes, they moved like one, and gazed in each other's hues like they knew everything about the other.

“I believe this wedding is only the beginning for my family”

“I believe so”

Otto agreed with his daughter, the scene that was unfolding could not say otherwise, the two younglings were made from the same cloth and fate finally managed to stitch them together, what was the problem was that (y/n) was the intended for Lord Blackmont, the buzz that was created behind (y/n)s absence on the boat that escorted the others back to Dorne was scandalous, to say the least.

Alas, the Martells stepped in and allowed the new match to occur, everyone expected the wedding to be in King's Landing, but to everyone’s surprise, the wedding took place in Dorne, (y/n)s homeland, the queen's words of concern fell on deaf ears, Aemond had been completed bewitched by his lady wife so whatever said went.

“She misses her home, I will make this gift to her”

Aemond had simply responded to Alicent, he did not care about anything besides her, his wonderful wife from Dorne that painted her lips red and smelled like honey, the way he looked at her brought everyone in awe, (y/n) was the most precious thing that Aemond could reach.

“How does it feel to be a part of the Targaryen line?”

“I must say I believe you are the perfect match for my first husband”

She joked before Aemond brought her to sit on his lap, the court had raved about how affectionate the prince was with his lady wife, always having her arms reach and placing kisses on her hands, cheeks, and lips, sometimes he would even grace her long hair like he was caressing the finest of silks.

Even Vhagar had taken a liking to the Dayne lady, letting her ride on her back with Aemond and sniffing her around when she was staring close enough, Aemond was the only one from his family that was blessed with the true love of a woman.

“Good morrow, apologies for being late we got distracted”

Aemond explained as he escorted his lady wife who had flustered cheeks and a playful smile on her face, Aegon let out a chuckle at the sight of the couple that acted as if they had just met even after years had passed, Alicent did not speak, (y/n) had brought joy to her boys' life but she still did not appreciate such public displays of affection, he was a prince, not a commoner.

“How are you, good sister?”

“The babe has been quiet today, hopefully, the birth will be as swift as the last one”

“You are glowing, pregnancy sits well with you”

“Indeed, maybe you will have the same glow, soon enough”

Alicent was a polite woman for most of the time, still, the whispers over (y/n)s flat stomach after being married for more than a year was like a cloud that collected storms over her head, Aemond and (y/n) had discussed it and agreed that it wasn’t a necessity to have children if they were meant to be parents it will come on its own.

Aemond only leaned closer and brought his wife's hand to him, as a sign of support and to take the lead in the conversation, he did not take well on the small remarks that anyone threw at his (y/n).

“My (y/n) glows every morrow and night, not that my sister does not but I must say that I enjoy having her affections all to myself, some could even call me too greedy to have a child”

Aemond explained and winked at his wife before he took every single tip of her fingers from her right hand and gave it a gentle kiss leaving last the back of her palm whilst (y/n) smiled at him and cheekily scrunched her nose.

Alicent did not hate (y/n), on the contrary she thought (y/n) was a wonderful wife and Aemond was happy so as a mother all she needed was to see her child content, their love ran deep, deep enough to make the servants spread rumours and speculations across kings landings that (y/n) had secretly been giving Aemond a love potion to drink every night, to keep him by her side.

(Y/n) laughed at the accusations, she thought it was somewhat grim but with a splash of humour that people found it so peculiar for a man to adore his lady wife and be loyal to her that she must be a witch, she must have been scheming cause there is no way for a man to be honourable.

“I must say brother I never expected you to be so… erotically tireless”

“This is not a subject to be discussed at the table”

Alicent cut the conversation short much to (y/n)s amusement. A part of her felt pity for the queen, forced to marry a man twice her age and took a wild guess that her beddings were taken more as a duty of a husband and wife than a pleasurable act between lovers, still to be so visibly discussed by the simple mention of laying with your husband was baffling to (y/n).

“Lord Blackmont send a raven today, his wife has birthed him a son”

“Mother, I thought I made myself clear when I said to never mention that name again”

“My dear do not scold your mother I am certain she meant no harm”

“You were his intended”

“Well I was a young girl and I liked the way his eyes were so dark you could not recognize where his pupil started”

“Please, promise me to never speak of him”

“I promise, Ñuha jorrāelagon” (my love)

(Y/n) pressed on Aemonds soft spot, she learned Valyrian just for him and Aemond adored the way it rolled off her tongue, often he would ask her to read books of anything in Valyrian just to listen to her poetic voice fill his ears like the best of music ever known to man.

Aemond leaned even further to her and snaked his arm around her just so he can rest his lips on her cheek, some would swear that Aemonds lips were dripping syrup from how sweet he was being with (y/n).

“Now, time for something with substance, my dearest love, I know I could never replace the wonderful starlight but allow me to try with this”

Starlight was (y/n)s horse that her father had gifted to her for her name day, (y/n) and Starlight shared a bond like no other, unfortunately, his hoof was infected and brought Starlight immense pain, (y/n) cried for the entire day.

Aemond raised his hand and motioned to the servant to come around with this big box, the others had to take (y/n)s plates aside so it won’t break anything, curiosity overwhelmed her enough to get up from her chair and gently open the lid, revealing the most adorable little kitten that meowed loudly, it could not have been more than a week old, she yelped from excitement as she picked it up to admire the all-black little thing that had bright eyes and somewhat tried to claw at her from fear of the new environment.

“Oh my love, it is perfect”

“Brother you exceed everyone’s expectations every time, that is such a thoughtful gift”

Heleana praised her brother, (y/n) nodded in agreement to her good sister and brought the kitty close to her chest after she kissed it on top of his head.

“I am a mere man that wants to make his wife happy, what should we name her?”

“Nightfall”

“Very fitting”

“She is probably hungry and scared, poor thing, we should ask for milk from the kitchen, come with me, my love”

“Excuse us, we have a new baby to tend to”

Aemond rushed to explain as he skipped towards his wife who was running out the door, both of them giggling from excitement for the new member of their family.

It was a certain odd sensation, after the loud shut of the door it almost felt like they had taken the light out of the room with them, leaving Heleana who only cared for her children and suffered through a marriage of convenience, Aegon who scoffed at duty and anything that had to do with his family and only seemed to lighten up when he was intoxicated and queen Alicent, a creation of her father as Otto pulled the strings and Alicent obliged by anything he made her believe to be true.

Per (y/n)s request a small bowl of milk was brought to her in their shared chambers and little nightfall was drinking and purring on their bed while (y/n) was petting her, to even think that such a small thing would make the lady jump up and down from joy and turn to a young girl again, Aemond was content with admiring (y/n) that was as bright as the sun, laying next to the small creature with her hair scattered on the sheets.

“Happy?”

“Ecstatic”

“Wonderful, that is all I needed to hear, now nightfall will continue to drink her milk on the floor”

Aemond carefully took the kitten in his hands along with the bowl and placed it on the side before he jumped on the bed and positioned himself on top of (y/n) who giggled at the sneaky attack of her husband, still when Aemond leaned to kiss her she replied with the same affection that she always did.

“And I will finally get to enjoy my wife”

“You “enjoyed your wife” before we went to break our fast”

“Yes but that seems like an eternity ago”

“Is that so?”

“Indeed my sweet I believe if you do not kiss me I will just simply perish away”

“Oh we can’t let that happen now”

Aemond was known to be a stoic character, a prince that was hard to read and extremely unpredictable, ever since the eye incident he had stepped away from the concept of friendships or any type of bonds that did not include his immediate family members, that was only true when (y/n) was not around, the second she would strut in a room Aemond dropped everything to be by her side and kiss some part of her body.

(Y/n) on her end was the definition of a loving wife, she advised him, and even though she was more shuttle with the acts of love everyone would notice it, how she would not allow anyone to bathe him, how she would attend to every single one of his sword training, even learning Valyrian for him.

“I wish to talk about the subject your mother brought up”

“There is nothing-“

“I would love to have a babe but-“

“Heleana is about to give birth to another child, our nephew or niece will soon grace us, if we have our own it will be a lovely matter, until then we shall spoil them”

He reassured her, a smile of relief was painted on her face and Aemond kissed her once again on the lips, and nose so he can end on her forehead, the euphoric sensation of being able to firmly say that her lord husband knows that the fate of getting pregnant is not entirely in your hands is something only a handful of ladies could speak about, (y/n) allowed her hand to go up and leave a gentle caress on Aemonds cheek that he wholeheartedly accepted and even leaned to her palm.

“I meant what I said to my mother, I like having your devoted attention”

His voice was hushed as he stared deeply into her eyes in order to make her believe that he meant every word of what he was saying, he would kill for her, he would die for her, anything in order to make certain she was happy and safe Aemond was willing to do, (y/n) was Aemonds sanctuary away from all that could sadden him, if it weren’t for her Aemond would have been stuck to a loveless marriage like the one his mother had suffered through.

“Well then allow me to show you the benefits of that, my prince”

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