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muneca-lemon-steppa · 17 days

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Stormy Weather

Alfie Solomons x F!Reader; angst/comfort/fluff

Trigger Warnings: major domestic issues, trauma response, things are resolved but hard, language

A/N: Hey my loves! So this one is… pretty hard core for me? I rarely write angst but this one has been on my mind for a bit. This does get pretty aggressive but I needed to process my own experiences with DV and relationship issues. This story isn’t meant to glorify or make light of DV, but rather it’s a way for me to process my fears about my future relationships after my bad one. I hope this made sense, and maybe someone could find some catharsis in this like I did. Love you all to bits and pieces, I’m trying to get to my inbox!! As always, feel free to send me prompts or requests. Love you all 💕- Mo

It had been tense recently in the Solomons house. The new men in the bakery were just above incompetent despite Shelby assurance. American prohibition put another twist in the binds. And the recent weather had done nothing to aid Alfie’s sciatica. Through no fault of your own, and despite your best efforts, Alfie was knee deep in angry old man territory.

Though that wasn’t something that put you off. Women are not so easily turned by nasty weather, for better or worse.

You weren’t naive to the tempest of your husband. The beauty of his heart and his mind had to paid for by torrential rains once a season. His roar never came to your quiet garden, though you were acquainted with his rumbles and thunder. But you knew how to temper it. You knew what brought him through it into the clear.

You hummed to the radio in the corner, settling your finishing touches to a soothing evening with your beast of a husband. Brisket was just pulled out, with carrots and potatoes buttery and tender. You had washed the sheets and blankets, pressed them with dried lavender and eucalyptus oil. Lamps were turned low, and the fire was a soothing crackle, the entire parlor a syrup sweet orange glow. Water was hot for a bath for two, and everything was set for a soft warm evening.

As you pour out your first glass of wine, you hear the front oak door swing open, and slam shut shaking the walls. Light on your feet you flew to the front, opening your arms as a harbor. “Alfie darling, get your coat off, I have dinner and wine all set for your already! Let’s get you warm!”

His eyes don’t even meet yours as he evades your soft arms.

You feel as though your body wilts. Completely crumbling under the weight of the dejection.

But maybe he didn’t see you! Maybe he just didn’t realize!! He works hard he probably just has to attend to something quickly.

Your bare feet flex against the frigid wood stairs, creaking under the weight of your trek. Your ears perked up to the rustling of the papers and slamming of drawers and rumble of his voice. Like a dragon arranging his lair.

You crack the heavy door, requiring all of your weight. Paper and ink were thrown around, drawers yanked crooked, and you see him take long swigs of the amber liquid in the crystal decanter. “Alfie? Darling you alright? Did something happen”

He does not even toss a glance, “nothing that concerns you. Close the door one your way out.”

The rolling thunder edges closer to the home, “Aren’t you going to come down and eat? I’ve made your favorite tonight.”

“Does it look like I care about dinner? I’m preoccupied at the moment and don’t need your yowling right now.”

A bright flash illuminates the room.

“Alfie I don’t know what’s wrong but you will not speak to me like this.”

“I’ll fucking speak to you how I fucking feel like! Now get the fuck out!”

The sky explodes. Shaking the paintings and photos on the walls. The mirror above the fireplace behind you shifts precariously. Your eyes shut but the sounds wash over you.

You don’t let the anger out of your chest very often. You pride yourself on keeping an even temper and offering a gentle hand in place of the rage. Especially when being with Alfie, your honeyed lips and temperament is what makes you the queen of Camden. There’s been so few people who have seen your rage, much less deserved to receive it.

“Get the fuck out you said?”

A slight chill runs down Alfie’s spine. “Yeah. Yeah I said get the fuck out. You deaf now?”

Another flash.

“Ok.”

Alfie hardly blinks before he suddenly sees glass hurdling towards his face. He just barely ducks before it shatters against the wall behind him.

“What the fuck!” He roars and thrashes.

To his shock, you pick up the glasses on his bar cart, throwing them with all your might at his head, one by one, with deadly aim.

“Get the fuck out eh Alfie! Get the fuck out!! I’ll get the fuck out! Maybe I’ll take you fucking with me!”

You make your way to the Faberge eggs on the shelf.

“Don’t you fucking dare sweetheart! There will be hell to pay if you touch those fucking eggs!”

“Oh we are well past that Alfie. You tell me to get the fuck out? I’m taking your fucking stuff!”

Three perfectly beautiful eggs are slammed against the fire with your husband roaring and punching the wall, “Enough damnit! Get the fuck out of my office! Get to the fucking room you fucking lunatic! I’ll lock you in the bedroom if you keep this up!”

“Oh I’d like to see you try! You call yourself a man! King of Camden! King of Camden so upset he curses out his woman! So mighty yet he can’t take care of his own home! You’re a fucking CHILD! A fraud!”

You grab at a cabinet and pull it down, slamming against the ground. The glass shattered. The tin type of your wedding surely shattered in the frame. In the moment of silence after the shatter, you don’t realize Alfie coming up behind you and lifting you in the air.

You scream and kick, trying to get away and out of his grasp. But he was immovable. A wall. All you hear was his grunts as you howled and cried. He wrenches the bedroom door open, throwing you onto your marriage bed. You scramble up the bed, reaching for the knife under your pillow.

Heaving breaths, Alfie puts his hands in surrender, “Treacle treacle please. Enough ok. No need to stick me. Let’s.. let’s talk.”

“You’ve already said anything you need to. I don’t want to hear anything you have to say you fucking-“

“Darling I was wrong. Ok. I shouldn’t have swore at you. Come on. Just… put it down. Let’s… let’s talk about this ok? Truce?”

You push the hair out of your eyes, wipe the tears off your face and put the knife on the night stand, far enough from either of you.

Alfie has never raised a hand towards you ever. He’d rather put the gun on himself than touch you. But old habits die hard.

You pull your feet under your night gown. Watching Alfie pull off his coat and shoes before sitting on the bed. The ancient frame creaking under his weight.

He reaches for your hand, but retracts when he sees your dark stare toward it. With a sigh he relents and decides to begin. It’s never good to be the starter of negotiations. “Darling. I am sorry for shouting at you. It wasn’t fair to you. The business doll… it does my head in. But. It doesn’t excuse shouting at you. Can you forgive me?”

You feel the heaviness slowly slipping away from your neck. You nod meekly, allowing your fingers to drift to his, weaving around his warm fingers.

Brushing the inside of your wrist, he continues, “Now darling. While I was in the wrong, you don’t normally start throwing shit around. Very unlike you it is. You want to explain what caused that? What’s going on in that pretty head?”

You shake your head no. It’s sitting on your tongue though it’s so bitter. You can’t bring yourself to spit out the poison.

“Oh come on darling. It’s just me. Nothing can put me off. You and me forever right?”

You nod, and reveal your feelings, even if it’s a slow trickle.

“I just… got so angry at you Alfie. I’ve been so lonely these past few months. You’ve been gone. Any time you say you’ll be home you’re not. I’m without you all the time. And when you are here, you’re not really. Your mind is still gone and I don’t have my husband. Just his body. And his words hurt me so much. And I thought, I thought tonight I could finally get you. I thought if I tried hard enough you would be happy and with me. Like we were. And then when I tried to help you and be your wife, you screamed at me. And it hurt me. So I wanted to hurt you and break things to make myself feel better. But it didn’t. It made me more angry and sad and…”

Your words were reduced to tears as your husband pulled you into his lap. Your tears soaked his neck and shirt, “Oh God Alfie I’m so sorry! That was wrong and I’m sorry! Alfie was please forgive me! I’ll never disturb you again! I’ll never throw anything ever again! Oh God Alfie can you forgive me!”

A gentle kiss to your forehead settles your fears, “Now my darling you know in your heart of hearts that we are bound for eternity. Nothing is taking us apart. Not even when we fight like demons. I’m yours and you’re mine. You and me… well we just need a little medicine yeah? Just need some help right now. You and me need to do a better job talking to each other and listening yeah?”

You can barely get words out as you nod. Cheeks hot and sticky. But it doesn’t stop Alfie from kissing your cheeks so tenderly. “My dove. My sweet dove. The business has been out of control but it’s finally settling down. I came home angry because of all the messes I’ve had to clean up. But I shouldn’t have taken it out on the one person I like. The one person I love. But it’s finally settled my pet.”

His thick hands tenderly touch your chin to bring your eyes to his, which are also wet with tears, “I promise to always tell you when I’m not doing ok. And if I can’t tell you then, I’ll make sure to tell you when I need a moment. You think you can promise your old man the same?”

“Yes… I promise.” You whisper

There is a slight twinkle that flies across his eyes, “Think you can seal it with a kiss?”

You throw yourself against him, and he catches you with a grunt. You hated to fight. You’d sooner walk into the ocean than be at odds with the love of your life. When you finally come up for air, Alfie whispers against your lips, “I’m staying home for the rest of the week. I’ll tell Ollie what he needs to do in the morning.”

Without moving a millimeter you say, “No you can’t darling. It’s your life I don’t want you to have to stay home if you can’t.”

“You’re my life treacle. Forever and all eternity you’re what matters. I’ve decided. I’m staying home. And come Saturday we go up to Margate.”

“Are you sure?”

“As sure as I am that you’re the only woman for me.”

He kisses you sweetly, and you whimper as you let yourself be further embraced by him. Barely moving from your lips he whispers, “Why don’t you start a bath darling? I’ll grab tea from downstairs and join you soon.”

“I made dinner… it’s on the stove for you.”

“I’ll bring a plate for us. You just… get comfortable for me treacle. I think we need some time.”

For the rest of the night… and the rest of the week. You spent time talking and embracing, coming back together and healing what had been fraying at the edge. Though mistakes were made, and there were deep wrongs, you both wanted to fix it, to heal.

Neither of you were perfect. You never would be. But there was love there, and determination to get through the wounds that lead to these kinds of mistakes. These moments were not ok, and they stemmed from deep seated traumas that were undealt with. But you both wanted this marriage. You both wanted each other. And you both would work everyday to make it work.

With every word.

With every caress.

With every kiss.

Things would heal.

#alfie solomons #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons x you #alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons x y/n #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders

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its-actually-minicika · 1 year

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The Yule Ball

(HotD Hogwarts!AU)

Part 1 of 3;;

Warnings: Jealousy, jealousy, jealousy; slight yandere Jace and Aemond (you'll be able to tell that better in part 2); angst if you squint; fluff, spice and everything nice

Pairings: Aemond x Reader, Aegon x Reader, Jacerys x Reader

Word count: 13k+ (not proof-read)

How would HotD's Main Three (Aemond, Aegon, Jace) ask you out to the Yule Ball? Would they even gather the courage to do so, before it's too late?

╰┈➤ In this fic, you're a daring Gryffindor, navigating your 5th year at Hogwarts. For the sake of this AU, Aemond (Slytherin) is your best friend, Jace (fellow Gryffindor) is utterly in love with you and Aegon (Hufflepuff) is that emotionally unavailable pervert whom you've befriended... though you're not quite sure why.

Christmas was a time to be celebrated at Hogwarts, both by muggle-born and pure-blood alike.

This year, the latter had been most excited, as the Headmaster announced the on-going preperations for the Yule Ball, a grand festivity that took place once every 4 years, all in honour of the Triwizard Tournament.

The buzzling happiness of the students was palpable: the nervousness of the girls and the slight waver in their voices. The boys, either completely unaffected by the notion of a partner or just as spent on the lingering question plaguing everyone's thoughts... 'So... who will you go with?'

The older students stricking their claim, the younger girls seducing away to secure an invitation...

(Y/N) decided then and there that she had never seen a crowd so colourful, so full of life.

It was around dinner-time when the impetuos doors of the Great Hall opened wide, and through them stepped - or rather, flied - in Jeremiah Blythe, a 6th year Ravenclaw with nothing to lose. Revealing a cage full of Pixie Faeries from underneath his robes, he set the little toublemakers free, still atop his broomstick.

All of them, as if practicing for weeks, flew in different corners of the room, revealing a shimmering banner, engraved with sparks and magical fire, reading the daring proclamation: 'You Should Dance Only With Me'

"Mary Bone, will you go to the Yule Ball with me?" Breathless, the male looked down at the object of his adoration, who, by that point, long forgot all about her mashed potatoes.

"My God, yes! Yes, Jeremy, of course!"

The hall erupted in roaring applause, whistles and yelled out 'Congratulations!' to the happy couple. As they were busy kissing away, (Y/N) gleefully turned her head in the direction of her friend, giggling slightly.

"I feel bad for the guy who's gonna pop the question next! It's pretty hard to beat that flammable display." She laughed softly, shaking her head in disbelief.

"I'd rather sympathize with the one who has to catch those faeries afterwards." Aemond hummed in a monotous tone. His eye quickly scanned the joyous face of his friend's, feeling a pang of fondness, before setting his attention on Otto Hightower, the Head of house Slytherin.

The greying man was all but yelling out at the two reckless students, settling on glaring daggers into their throats and proclaiming with a tumultuous voice: "30 points from Ravenclaw. And 30 from Hufflepuff."

A loud groan shook the Great Hall to the core - Aegon, now with his robes in a twist, looking at his grandfather in pure disbelief. (Y/N) offered him a compassionate look, shrugging her shoulders.

... At least Otto Hightower didn't shy away from punishing everyone equally in his own way. Even the house of his eldest grandson.

Once more, the girl's eyes caught a glimpse of silver hair. She wanted to keep talking to Aemond - the last hectic weeks in their schedules allowing little time for idle chatting. And... of course, the ball...

Before she could think of anything new to say, Aemond threw his leather bag over his shoulder.

"You're leaving already?"

"Mm, I have a paper due in Potions." Eyeing her sheepishly, running a hand past the nape of his neck, the taller boy paused, before opening his mouth once again.

... But just as he was about to add something more, a deep voice cut through his trail of thought.

"Hey there, (Y/N)!" Jacerys' velvety voice rang in her ears. As she spun around in her seat, the girl's eyes lit up, "Jace! It's good to see you!"

The brown haired boy plopped down next to her, quickly placing his hand over his heart, feigning hurt;

"Where were you today? We missed you at practice."

'The Quiddich field', the girl remembered, guilt seeping into her pores. She had promised Jace to be there. But after bumping into Aemond, she completely lost track of time.

Furrowing her brows in a twist, she aired out apologetically, "I'm so sorry, I completely forgot...! I'll make it up to you guys."

Jace's face broke into a boyish smile, one that couldn't help but make (Y/N) blush. The Velaryon gently placed his hand above her hair, patting her down gently.

"Don't fret! I figured something must have stopped you."

Or rather someone. As if on cue, Jace's eyes left (Y/N)'s lips, traveling up, up to meet the lilac gaze of Aemond. Still looking at him with a quirked brow, he muttered to her softly. "Though, if you really want to make it up to me..."

His eyes glimmered with mischief.

'I can think of just the way.' he wanted to say. To finally ask the burning question, that stuck so well to his throat all those weeks ago. The very same question he knew Aemond wanted to ask as well.

"You help me out with that horrible Herbology homework tonight, and we call it a truce. Deal?"

Alas, he settled on what he could bring himself to get. Jace would grow to curse himself for not asking (Y/N) to the Yule Ball that eve - yet the immediate satisfaction of stealing her away from the company of that Targaryen brute was enough to quell his momentary thirst.

(Y/N) smiled at him softly, nodding decidedly, before turning to Aemond. If he also had a paper for Potions class, then maybe they all could --

But Aemond was nowhere to be seen.

"Huh...? Jace, did you see where Aemond left?"

The boy clenched his jaw in irritation of the name, but otherwise remained poised; smiling politely at his friend and shaking his head with furrowed brows, he moved his warm hand from her head to her shoulder.

"Sorry, (Y/N). Must've just gone back to his Common Room."

Defeated, the girl whisked her head around. She tried her very best to catch the reflection of his familiar white hair, but was unable to discern anything else besides Aegon's locks.

As if he could feel her eyes boring holes into his back, his mellow gaze met the one of (Y/N). He raised his glass of fermented wine to his face, gingerly nodding his head with a slight smirk and chugging it all in one gulp.

"You must be right."

Was that... disappointment that she felt? Mixed with some slight irritation, surely - Aemond could have at least told his goodbyes before disappearing like that.

Inhaling sharply, the pale girl nudged Jace's side playfully. "What do you say? Are you free to take care of that homework now?"

Maroon eyes swirled with gratitude. While nodding fevereshly, Jace took both his and (Y/N)'s backpacks, insisting on carrying them himself towards the vacant library.

For the hundreth time that evening, (Y/N) had to stiffle a yawn.

Her and Jace had finally wrapped up that dreadful essay - and if it weren't for the late hour, the two would have celebrated how well it actually turned out.

... Instead, they had sluggishly returned to the Gryffindor dorms.

'Madam Tyrell has to give you an <O> for it.' the girl had told him excitedly, 'It's gotta be our best work yet!'

Jace merely laughed at that, boring deeply into (Y/N)'s heart. The lights erupting from the crackling fire of their Common Room danced across his handsome face, leaving intricate shadows in their wake - each accentuating his masculine features.

With his ears of a red tint, the boy managed to utter out; 'We... We should get some rest. Tomorrow we have that DADA midterm.'

Groaning at the thought, the pair rose up from their armchairs, bidding eachother a sweet good night.

A deep grumble abruptly stopped (Y/N)'s recollection of events.

By Merlin's beard, it was past witching hour. But she was really, really hungry.

The girl slipped out of bed carefully, doning on her white slippers. She threw a singular look over her shoulder, taking in Baela's and Rhaena's sleeping faces, sucking in a breath.

Her visit to the Kitchens would be a short one - it might take a while for her to get to her own bed again, but she could still get at least 3 hours of sleep. And she'd survived on way less during her 4th year's finals season.

Before she knew it, she was past the entrance of her Common Room and well into the open. Giving The Fat Lady a small wave and whispering a quick 'Lumos' underneath her breath, she made her way down the intricate set of stairs.

As predicted, it wouldn't take long for her to slip through the cracked door of the Kitchen. Lit only by a tiny candle, the wooden work space felt utopic.

(Y/N) sighed at the comfort of solitude, grateful for the peace and quiet that the sacred space provided. Her sharp eyes scanned her surroundings, stopping on the cradle of cold milk by the stove.

She slowly approached it, her shaky hand pouring herself a generous glass. Bringing the pure nectar to her lips, she let out a low hum of satisfaction.

Now, where was that food?

Before she could even place her glass back down, a strong pair of arms engulfed her by the waist.

A sudden yielp pertruded from her rosy lips - the Gryffindor spun around with great ferocity, heart hammering in her chest; there was no way someone just touched her like that and imagined there'd be no consequences.

But before she could empty the contents of her glass in the eyes of her attacker, a velvety laugh escaped his lips.

"I believe what you're looking for is in the oven."

Aegon.

"Didn't your mommy teach you never to touch a girl like that?" A bemused smile threatened to seer through (Y/N)'s lips. Eyebrow now quirked, she pushed the 7th year away from her body.

His hands gingerly let go of her waist, though not before circling once, twice, thrice over her hips - the warmth of them, like a scorching fire against her covered skin.

It took all the girl's might not to cringe at the contact. What was it with Targaryens and their ridiculously high body temperature?

"What are you doing here?" She finally asked, voice hoarse, breaking the silence.

His dilated pupils burned holes in her skull, returning the favour she made him at dinner. Aegon took great pleasure drinking in her delicate features, swearing to himself to forever engrave them to his memory. Finally, he graced her with a reply.

"Same as you, right? To grab a bite."

Stroking her side once more in an attempt to slowly move her to the left, the eldest of the Targaryen brothers opened the oven in front of him, revealing a cold pumpkin tart.

"The Gods provide." He whispered in the girl's ear, letting out a snicker once confusion darted across her face. "Once you come here often enough, you learn where to find the actually good stuff."

Grunting in reply, (Y/N) sat down on the kitchen counter, waiting for Aegon to cut her a slice.

The two stood in silence for what felt like an eternity, before the male finally placed a hefty slice in her open palm.

"So." He began dryly. "Are you Gryffindor girls just as crazed for the Yule Ball as the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws?"

He was making an allusion to earlier that day: when Jeremiah's display of affection had cost both Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs 30 points.

Wincing slightly, (Y/N) took a bite of the sweet tart, mulling her answer over.

"I suppose everyone is excited in a way. And more or less desperate for a partener. Though I think that's stupid."

"You think not wanting to go alone is stupid?"

"I think that going with someone has potential to be nice. But it's not the end of the world if you are to go alone." (Y/N) shrugged, scooting closer to the wall.

Aegon got up from his chiar, strutting closer to the cup of milk. Pouring himself a glass nonchalantly, he tutted, amused.

"I think it's one thing for a blooke to go alone. For a girl, it's just sad."

"You really think that?" The girl asked, bewildered by such a decided sentiment.

Aegon didn't miss a beat: "What I think is that you're trying to fool yourself cuz you've got no one to go with."

A teasing smirk tugged and twisted at his features. The silver haired man looked at you expectantly.

He wanted you to bite down on his challenge.

"Are you projecting your own situation?" She tried her best to stay lax, denying him entrance to her deepest thoughts.

Aegon let out a shuddering laugh. "I've had girls come to me like a flock of chickens to their cock."

(Y/N) scrunched her nose at that crude remark, but settled on rolling her eyes instead of matching him with a retort.

"No, sweet (Y/N), I'm definitely not projecting."

"Be that as it may, I still stand by my words. You don't need a partener to have fun at the dance."

"The fox that doesn't get to the grapes always says they're sour..."

"Quit insiunating I've got no one to go with! What's your obsession with that, anyway?" She finally snapped, but regretted her words almost instantly, as Aegon's smile spread even wider, if that was truly possible. Turning on his heel to look her straight in the eye, he pushed his hands near her body's sides, caging her in.

"So she does care, after all."

"I really don't."

"Little poor (Y/N) (L/N), the only girl in her year with absolutely no one who loves her." Slowly quirking his head to the side, Aegon continued. "How does it feel to know you are absolutely lonely?"

A loud slap echoed throughout the room. The sting in (Y/N)'s hand and the red pigment blossoming in Aegon's left cheek all but directly confirmed what had happened. Eyes wide, staring at each other, the sheen of tears in the ones of the fierce lioness.

"How dare you." She more so pointed out than asked.

"The bitch has bite to her." Aegon snarled, rubbing his high cheekbone. "Someone better put a muzzle on that haughty mouth, too."

Having finally heard enough, with nothing else to add to a losing battle, (Y/N)'s legs swung from the counter; soon, she was putting as much distance from her body and Aegon's as humanly possible.

Jerking the back door open, she turned around once more to face her midnight opponent.

"I'd rather have no one to go with, than have to pay for the company I indulged in as you do."

Now finally set off as well, the eldest Targaryen yelled after her fleeting footsteps.

"You know, I would take you there myself if you weren't so bloody proud!"

"Go be benevolent with someone else!"

She could still feel the scorching heat of his hands on her.

The following day had passed, uneventful as all the rest, until dinnertime rolled around.

(Y/N) hastily made her way to the Great Hall, having already been late to the meal by quite some time. She couldn't find Aemond anywhere, neither Jace, Baela or Luke. She didn't dare look for any trace of Aegon, as the wounds from last night didn't yet have time to heal.

Where in the world had everyone ran off to? From the moment of her wake, throughout all her classes... it was as though her friends evaporated in thin air.

No matter, she would not eat alone that day. Gestured to take a seat by Borya Moore, the handsome Durmstrang student that eyed her up since his arrival at Hogwarts, the 5th year girl smiled at him tightly.

He was a charming boy, (Y/N) concluded, while side eyeing him during the fast break; Russia's golden boy, they called him, the champion of their respective school.

Tall, well built, with the greenest of eyes and the blackest of charcoal locks. Indeed, the older male was quite a sight to see.

He was smiling at her politely, talking to her in a gruff voice, laced with a strong accent. He sometimes recieved swift nudges from his surrounding classmates: what was on his mind was clear; and it was not original. All the same, a warm feeling crept it's way within (Y/N)'s chest.

As stated before, Borya was a handsome young man - and he was said to be proud, just and honest to a fault, though never cruel or unattentive.

Although his words were scattered few and far between, he was a good listener and seemed very interested in what the girl had to say.

"Are you excited about the next trail?" (Y/N) asked him, while playing with a piece of bread. Her eyes never raised from her plate, but she could feel his emerald hues running all across her face.

"Yes, excited to win it." The male let out a mirthled laugh, shaking the whole table with him. "Though, I am even more so for the ball."

"I can imagine that!" (Y/N) hummed with a small smile. "You'll have to open with a dance, right? Are you not nervous about that? Or... do you simply like the attention?"

Borya gave her a subtle wink, his hand making a wide gesture at the surrounding tables. Satisfied with her confused face, he quickly clarified:

"I would not think them trained enough to judge my dancing. All of us are here for a good time - trust me when I say, we'll manage the dance just fine."

... 'We'?

His obvious proposition of dancing together reddened your cheeks; but before the conversation could go any further, a flock of familiar silver hair caught your eye.

All hope decimated when, instead of a glimpse of cold green, you were met with the honeyed gold of the house Hufflepuff. Aegon had finally graced the other students with his presence.

A bitter taste formed into your mouth, which only accentuated as he came into better view, hand in hand (or rather, hand on ass) with Vela Castillo, the prettiest girl of the 5th year student body.

Scared to catch his eye, (Y/N) abruptly turned her head in the opposite direction and waited for the couple to sit down.

Aegon skimmed through the wide room from the moment he set foot in it - having located (Y/N), he was willing to do anything, only for her to notice him and his new, dazzling paramour.

He didn't just want her to bite his carefully laid bait this time around - he needed her to. Simply put, he craved her attention.

But the game felt old and boring for the 5th year Gryffindor. (Y/N)'s ember eyes turned back on Borya, pushing down a laugh when she noticed how Aegon sat Vela right in front of them, onto his lap, settling on kissing her passionately.

Coughing in the back of her hand, the girl beamed at her new acquaintance.

"I'm sorry, you were saying?"

A loud bang could be heard from their front - plates full of food were now laying in pieces on the ground. Aegon's and Vela's clash of lips had ended long ago; just what were the two doing now?

Aggravated by her lack of response, Aegon had taken his escapade up a notch, now having placed Vela onto the Hufflepuff table, feeling her up nonchalantly.

His scorching need for a reaction was becoming unbearable. He itched to get something out of (Y/N), anything really - and she figured it out quite easily. The right course of action was for her to keep eating, look as unbothered as can be and keep conversing with Borya.

... Even so, the sight before her would have any witch or wizard twitch in annoyance. If she wanted to see a spectacle, she would have turned for a stroll in Percy's Tour.

Just as their voices started to warm up to moaning, (Y/N) gently sat her cuttery over the empty plate. She grabbed an apple from a nearby bowl of fruit, bidding Borya a shy goodnight, before turning on her toes to leave.

And, had she given the table one last parting look, she would have noticed how Aegon peeled himself off the girl with haste, angered and dissatisfied by the trivial end of their night.

"Stupid Aegon. Stupid Aegon and his stupid need to always start something stupid." (Y/N) fumed, whilst climbing the moving staircase. "How come Professor Hightower took points from an invitation to the dance, but won't bat an eye when his grandson swallows something else besides potatoes at dinner-ti--"

She crashes into a hard chest, and the oozing smell of fresh mint and murkwood tree invades her senses. She doesn't need to look up to confirm who she'd bumped into, but she does.

Ember eyes clash with lilac hues - Aemond, who had been talking to the old portrait of Merlin, keeps a hand close to her waist, barely grazing it. He looks at her, barely startled, but with a forming curiosity pertruding though his eye.

"... Aemond." The girl utters, barely above a whisper. She feels lightheaded, struck by the closeness of her oldest friend. The way she can cast upon his fair features, profiting off of their lack of distance, is almost sinful.

The male is the first to pull away, leaving her somehow wanting.

"(Y/N), I didn't see you there."

The Gryffindor feels a stream of indignation coursing through her veins. Aemond had been avoiding her all day, and these are the first words he tells her?

His velvety voice, his poised stance and his calloused hands, that delicately touched her not a moment ago. She could feel the heat of her body begining to rise, forgetting all about her previous anger.

"Aemond," she repeats once more, "where in Merlin's beard were you today?" She gave the wizard's portrait a quick glance, in order to check if he was piqued by the usage of his name, but was instead startled by how he unnoticedly stepped out of frame.

"Whatever do you mean?" Aemond hummed slightly, furrowing his perfect brows. "We saw eachother at breakfast, did we not?"

"We... yeah, we did. But we always walk together to dinner - I waited for you at the main entrance of the Great Hall, and then I went to check in front of your common room. ...Y-You weren't there."

She vexed herself with how desperate she had managed to sound. She prayed to whatever God would listen for Aemond to not notice.

His eye gave... nothing away. He looked almost bored, irked with her presence. For the thousanth time that day, (Y/N) had to blink away the tears that were threatening to leave her own. She removed her insistent stare from his face, and concentrated upon the books in her hands.

<Potions>, she read the glittering green title of the first textbook.

"Oh, right! You had that midterm paper to finish!" She quickly changed the subject, hoping to salvage what was left of her dignity. The following seconds were met with silence. "How was it?"

'Please just say something', she cursed in her head.

"I got an 'O' for it." Aemond said flatly, before turning oh his heel to resume his walk. Noticing how (Y/N) remained behind, he turned his head to her, jerking it in a gesture that urged her to follow him. "We mustn't stay in one place for too long. You know how the stairs have a mind of their own."

As the two climbed up the steps, (Y/N) fiddled with her black robes - she coughed in the back of her hand and offered Aemond the red apple she had taken from dinner.

"Since..." she began softly, "Since we're walking up instead of down, I assumed you'd skip dinner."

Aemond let out a strained grunt, accepting the fruit from her extended hand. He made no attempt of eating it, however, and simply placed it in an inner pocket of his coat. "Thank you."

The girl pressed her lips in a firm line, nodding strongly, before welcoming the enveloping silence.

A minute, maybe two passed. The tension could be cut by a knife; (Y/N)'s brain was working overtime, faced with his unanswered question.

'Were were you?'

As if he could read her mind, Aemond turned his head to the side. "I asked Alys Rivers to the dance today."

The simplicity of his words left the girl befuddled. "What?" She asked before she could compose herself.

"That's what I was doing. You asked earlier." He clarified almost immediately. His face was still away from her. The only thing (Y/N) could do was guess the expression he was wearing by the tone of his voice, and that was a difficult task.

Alys Rivers. The beautiful 7th year Slytherin - a witch coming from a very powerful family. One of the few half-bloods of her house, she had never met her mother, yet was taken in by her father, Lyonel Strong, almost immediately after her birth.

She was a cold beauty, ethereal in her own right, and (Y/N) couldn't help but painfully smile at the realisation: that she was exactly the type of girl she saw Aemond going for. Perfect, without a flaw to her face or selective character.

The thick coat of jealousy that hugged her frame became almost too much. (Y/N) felt how the air in her lungs spent itself. She felt the warm tears stinging at the corners of her eyes. Too afraid that she hadn't said anything in a while, the witch laced her pained voice with a beaming timbre.

"I'm so happy for you, Aemond! You two make for a very handsome pair!"

She swallowed hard, trying to level herself once more. What was even worse, apart from the fact that she could see it from a mile away, was that she had nothing bad to say of Alys.

Not once had the older witch been cruel to her. Not once had she bullied her, talked ill of her, or her group of friends.

(Y/N) couldn't be mad at her. She couldn't hate her. And that was what stung the most.

"Wow, we got here quick, didn't we?" She exclaimed rather loudly. The girl thanked the stars in the sky and the moon above her head for both their agile steps. At least in her common room, she wouldn't have to see Aemond.

She turned her back quickly on him, muttering the week's password, before stepping foot into the clustered tunnel.

"Thanks for bringing me to my room, Aemond. See you tomorrow, and congrats again!"

The door that closed with the last of her words left a very confused Aemond in their stead. Mouth still agape, as if wanting to add something, he took in a deep breath, somehow dissatisfied by her abrupt departure.

Then again, he himself was to blame for not saying all he wanted that day.

(Y/N) breathed a sigh of relief when the smell of crackling fire finally hit her nose. She prolonged her body against the cold stone wall, taking in a deep breath in order to calm her nerves. When she felt ready, she got up from the ground and made her way across to the Common Room, smiling widely at the lounge of people.

Her tranquility was short lived when she saw Jacerys and Baela, sitting oh so deliciously close to one another on the nearest sofa.

For a second, she froze in her place. The couple seemed to be engrossed in conversation; Jace's arm was draped over Baela's shoulder, both bodies relaxed in front of the fire place. A small blush crept over her cheeks. Jace huffed at something the Targaryen whispered to him, and (Y/N) decided she had seen enough.

Walking past them with renowed vigour, she all but ran to the girls' dorm room, shutting the door swiftly behind her.

As soon as her head hit the cold pillows, (Y/N) felt disheartened. She thought back on what Aegon said, how it was so sad for a girl to go alone to such an event.

She felt angry with herself - for causing a scene with both Jace and Aemond. After all, they didn't owe her anything, and it wasn't their obligation to ask her to the Yule Ball.

The hurt in her chest would last her the whole night, but along with the pang of pain, she was now feeling guilt.

Jace and Baela, she poundered, along with Aemond and Alys, were perfect for eachother. Even Aegon and Vela made for a cute couple. Bringing one of the pillows to her face, (Y/N) groaned her heart out.

It wasn't as though she was unattractive, or she felt as though she would die alone: but it was so unfair, that every boy whom she fancied ended up not looking at her twice.

No. She wouldn't allow herself to sulk over such a trivial thing. And she would definitely not end up seated on a chair throughout the whole night at the ball, looking miserable for either boy to see.

Suddenly, Borya's face lit in her mind. Determined to end her night right, she thrusted herself up from the bed, doning her shoes back on.

Thanks to the obsessive gossip surrounding him, she knew the young man always took a run along the castle's lake at this hour.

(Y/N) smirked to herself. A light jogging sounded just perfect tonight.

The final week before the Yule Ball went rather smoothly. Much to her own dismay, (Y/N) had been avoiding both Jacerys and Aemond.

The males had searched for her long and wide, but whenever one of them would get close to her, (Y/N) always found a way to leave almost immediately.

She wasn't proud of what she was doing. Although an immature reaction, the girl still felt the pang of jealousy and hurt whenever she'd see them with their respective dates.

It was better to avoid them altogether, she concluded.

The gradient dress felt tight against her skin. With each and every step she took, it shifted in colour - from a rich black, to a deep blue and a crimson red. Her hair was up in a braided bun, some loose strands resting upon her slender shoulders, neatly framing her face.

The forming echo of her footsteps washed an eery calmness over her. She couldn't be too fashionably late to the Yule Ball, as she'd have to dance with Borya in the opening waltz; thus, she happily skipped the next stairs in her descent.

Only one last turn separated her from the clustered hall, that led to the ajar doors of the celebration. Taking in one deep breath, (Y/N) made her entrance.

Both Jace and Aegon were made to scurry away by Professor Lynnen, the Head of the Hufflepuffs. Only Aemond remained waiting, as Alys, turned away from him, was talking with one of her friends with joyous interest. He himself was glancing at the appearance of his sister, Helaena, who was spinning around with her own partner.

"Oh, she looks beautiful, Aemond!" Alys exclaimed, coming near her handsome date.

"Yes, she is." He agreed proudly, still looking at his buoyant sister. Realising they weren't looking in the same direction, the Slytherin adjusted his body to face the main entrance to the Great Hall.

He was sure that his heart nearly stopped.

There (Y/N) was, in all her beauty, slowly walking in the direction of their resting bodies. For just a second, Aemond caught himself taking a step forward, wanting to offer the girl his arm.

The air in the room became impossible to bear for him - had she always looked so... ethereal? Her dusted cheeks, the red lips that flowered to a smile when she saw... she saw... Borya?

His trance broke as fast as it began. Before him stepped the champion of the Durmstrang school, who deeply bowed before the woman, eliciting her a small laugh, as he extended his arm out.

He could make her laugh too.

Borya was quick to cup her dainty hand into his own strong one, leading her away and to the grand entrance.

Eyes wide, as if she had just noticed him, (Y/N) offered him a small wave, giggling cheerfully.

"Hey," Alys clung onto his arm, "we should get going too. The main dance is about to start!"

Poor Aemond, still following his friend with his eye, curtly nodded before taking her arm.

Inside, (Y/N) felt like she was flying.

The way Borya was spinning her around, showing her off to everyone in the room with eyes to watch - the way his very own roamed over her face and figure, making her feel safe and desired - was more than anyone in her place could ask for.

Aegon and his date rested in a corner, the gossip surrounding them no different than the one they engaged in.

"Is that... is that (Y/N) (L/N)? With Borya Moore?" Vela chirped loudly next to Aegon's ear. Her eyes were shimmering stars, a swirl of both glee and mild jealousy as she followed the two on the dance floor.

"What...? No way. No, that's... don't be ridiculous. That's impossible! It-It couldn't be her."

Vela's eyes snapped in the direction of her partner, who couldn't seem to stop shaking his head. "Absolutely not." He proclaimed though a strangled breath, more so to convince himself rather than anyone else. "(Y/N) is far too..."

"Gorgeous." Came in the completion, given by none other than Jacerys Velaryon, who, just as the others, would not get his eyes off her. Baela, sympathetically to his right, jabbed his side playfully.

"I told you you'd regret not asking her."

"I tried! I was just... too late." He let out in an exasperrated breath, sighing dreamily as he caught another glimpse of (Y/N)'s dress.

"Next time, pluck up the courage to do it sooner."

"Trust me, I'll take this regret to my grave."

Aegon's face collapsed upon itself. Swishing his finger around accusingly at Jace's face, he managed to blurt out;

"You...! You asked - you asked her. To the ball."

"I was going to." Jace pouted, running a hand down his face. "I bought fireworks and even bribed the student choir to sing her favourite song."

"And why didn't you put your plan in action?" Aegon asked over his shoulder, as he filled his punch cup to the brim. Digging into his dress robes, he pulled out a flask of alcohool, completely draining it before setting his lips on the fruit juice.

"Same reason as you didn't? She was already going with someone else."

At that, Aegon almost spat his drink out. "No, no," he vehemently denied, "I didn't even want to ask her to the dance. I assure you."

Vela looked at him stupefied, while Baela only smirked.

"Of course."

"I didn't!!" He rebuttled.

"Sure." His cousin mused with the same untrusting look.

Throwing Baela one last dirty look, Aegon groaned in disbelief, seeing how Borya lifted (Y/N) into his arms, for the fifth time during that damned song. He deflated into a nearby seat, pulling Vela down with him, and started mumbling to himself.

Jace didn't need much coaxing to follow suit.

Thoughout the night, they gawked and grovelled. Jace took the time to dance with Baela once, twice - as to not let her be alone in missing out on all the fun. Meanwhile, Aegon couldn't be bothered to move from his chair, despite Vela's insistent huffs and obvious hints.

"Bit of a ruddy pumpkinhead, isn't he?" Aegon spat in his drink, lilac eyes glaring daggers into the brunette's back.

"I don't think it was the books that had him going to the library, now that's for sure." Jace commented, not a heartbeat later.

Their souring moods only worsened as the night progressed and (Y/N)'s giggles filled the room.

"What do you think he's even saying to her? Nothing of importance, I bet."

"Oh look at me, I'm Borya Moore and I come from Russia. My accent is deep and my muscles are twice the weigh of my bloody head." Aegon immitated the older man with a skill and tenacity that must have been induced by practice.

"Do you wanna make out?" Vela asked Aegon suddenly, aggravated by the circling conversation.

"No." Came his simple reply.

"May I have your arm?" The deep voice of yet another Durmstrang student cut through their conversation. Bowing lightly before Baela, the Targaryen snickered in amusement.

She grabbed a hold of his hand with gratitude, nodding fevereshly. "Arm, leg - I'm yours."

... And then there were three.

"Do you wanna have sex?" Vela tried once again.

"No." The blonde man sighed.

"... Are you gonna ask me to dance or not?!"

For the first time that night, Aegon turned to look at her. "No."

Ired to no end by his catty behaviour, the Ravenclaw finally relented. She abruptly got up from her chair, going to the closest group of boys she could find and striking up a conversation. Soon enough, even she was dancing her heart out.

Aemond too, took care of his date. But as the end of the night approached them, and the more upbeat songs began to play, Alys couldn't help but start to take offence.

"Your heart's not in it, my dragon." She remarked dryly, moving his chin to face her for the millionth time that night. Slowly stroking his cheek, she tried closing in the distance between them, only to have Aemond jerk his head away.

"Now what is the matter with you?" She demanded, masking her impatience as a seering question. Her green eyes followed his, stopping in their tracks at the sight of the wavy locks of (Y/N) (L/N), the object of her date's pending attention.

"Truly, Aemond? This is the reason you're so distracted?"

A low hum escaped his lips. He turned his saddened gaze on Alys, who smoothly added distance between their sweat stained bodies. She had weighed her words very carefully, now awaiting his answer with a quirked brow.

"It could never be in it." He sighed heavily, reffering to her first statement. "My heart." He added stiffly. "Not while she's here."

A buffled snort escaped Alys' black stained lips. She fully expected Aemond to need more coaxing to admit his true feelings - yet here he was, biting his inner cheek somewhat apologetically.

"I see." She finally spoke though grittered teeth, "And why have you not asked her to the Ball in the first place; You thought it more amusing to waste my time instead?"

"I had thought it a course of action that would suit us both." He answered flatly. Aemond's eye cast over her shoulder, darkening slightly, "I apologise for the inconvenience. Believe me, it was most uncontiously done."

His words were unoriginal, and lacking of any true meaning. For a moment, Alys wanted to curse him for having played with her heart, to scream at him, for daring to shame her so with his open admition of feelings.

But that was only for a moment - for she remembered that she was Alys Rivers, a beautiful and powerful witch, who would not need his approval to bring forth either blessing or calamity.

Gathering her wits about her, she crossed her arms in front of her, shaking her head at his frozen face.

"You should never have done it. Hurt her or attempt to confuse me."

His jaw clenched tightly at the notion of having hurt his dearest friend. And it took all his restraint not to leave Alys alone, in order whisk (Y/N) off the dance floor and apologise, on his knees if he had to, for being so cold towards her.

As if she could read his mind, Alys tutted in feigned annoyance. "Go." she simply said, "Go after her. Or don't, and waste your time in here." Her pretty eyes now held an amused glint in them.

Aemond's very own softened at her - mirroring her beguiled stance, he clasped his hands behind his back, adding on thickly:

"You can slap me if you'd like."

Alys' eyebrows raised in pure wonder, the gesture itself, bigger than all of her reactions that night. She let her head fall back with a mirthled laugh, calming down only after the man's face began to relax.

Snapping back into place, she looked for confirmation in his eyes, before laying a loud slap over his left cheek, kissing it fleetingly afterwards.

"I won't keep you company anymore, you do understand." She said, mildly distracted. And, should she have felt any inflection of sadness, the girl masked it well; turning her back on him, the locks of her black hair whipped his face.

Aemond allowed a small smirk to grace his lips, feeling the rough edges of his scar with two slender fingers. The powerful slap would sure leave a mark (if it hadn't already), but he was greateful for Alys' choice in hitting the only numb spot that he had on his body.

"Don't worry, brother. It gets better after the first time." Both Aegon's delivery and his Cheshire Cat smile told the Slytherin everything he needed to know. His 'breakup' had been very public and wholeheartedly raveled in by his older brother.

While both opened their mouths to say something crass, neither would get the chance to exchange their choice words. The loud applause of the crowd signaled that last song of the night had ended, and with it, so did (Y/N) and Borya's ditzying.

Both brothers had to stiffle a growl at the sight of the Durmstrang boy, kissing (Y/N)'s hands delicately, before stepping away to a faraway table.

The girl looked after him for a while, before spinning thrice in place, breathless from all the ensued dancing. She felt her friends' insistent gaze on her, and she turned to face them, breaking out into a bubbly laugh.

"Hot, isn't it?" She asked as she approached them, "Borya's gone to get some drinks. Would you care to join us?"

Her chest, heaving in and out at a rapid pace, the light tremour of her body... Aegon scoffed harshly at the sight.

"No. We would not care to join you and Borya."

(Y/N)'s smile falthered at his coarse reply. Her eyebrows furrowed, her beautiful smile quickly turning to a frown. "Well what's got your wand in a knot?"

Aegon puffed in indignation, blowing some rebel hairs from his face. He soon made his way to the table Jacerys was sitting at; Aemond and (Y/N) following shortly after.

"He's a Durmstrang. You're fraternizing with the enemy." Aegon spoke in a matter of fact tone, not even bothering to look at her.

"The enemy? Who was it that wanted to be his friend a week ago?" (Y/N) questioned, dumbfounded.

Aegon's eyes settled on the ground. He buried himself in his chair, not daring to look at the girl again.

"Besides," (Y/N) continued, fully aggravated, "The whole point of the tournament is... <international magical cooperation>. To make friends."

"Hah, I think he's got a bit more than friendship on his mind." It was Jace's turn to speak, who turned beet rouge the second (Y/N)'s attention turned to him. Peeling her teary eyes away from his, she looked at Aegon and Aemond. Each avoiding her stare, neither jumping to her defense.

Sneering at their new unspoken antourage and nodding her head in understanding, she got up from her central seat. "How dare you..." was the only thing she muttered, before getting lost in the crowd once more.

"We're only saying that he's using you." Aegon yelled after her fleeting form, sprinting to catch up to (Y/N).

"Thank you, but i can take care of myself." She spewed sarcastically over her shoulder, shocked that they were still stuck on that topic of conversation.

"I severely doubt it." Aemond spoke calmly, "He's way too old for you."

"What? Is that what you think?" The younger witch enquired, now even more enraged by her best friend's allusion.

"Mm, yes. That is what I think." He rejoinded, walking by her side again. The pressure on his heart tightened by the second, but he would not relent. Though he had never felt this way before, Aemond realised what his brain was urging him to do: completely ruin his best friend's night.

It was an ugly thing. But the only thing he believed would bring comfort forth.

(Y/N)'s walking came to an abrupt halt.

"Between me and him, there is a two year age gap. The same can be said for you and Alys, as far as I can remember."

"That's different." Aemond warned her though a low spat.

"How." The Gryffindor asked, forcing out a laugh.

His hands came to grip her shoulders. Although his movements had the intent to keep her looking at him in place, his touch was light and feathered - should she wish to, the girl could easily twist herself away.

His darkened eye came to rest upon her. What Aemond couldn't say, he tried his damnest to show through his stare.

"It's different because Alys is a woman and Borya is a man." Aegon answered in Aemond's stead, snickering lightly at her naivité.

That was the last straw for (Y/N). Peeling Aemond's hands off of her, she turned to face both men, almost shaking in rage.

"You really like that double standard, don't you?" (Y/N) pointed her finger at him, "So what say you is the difference between me and Vela, then? Your age gap with her is two years as well and you think yourself a man."

"Not all of us are like that."

"Like Borya."

"Yeah." He accentuated with an unruffled laugh.

"You know the solution then, don't you?" She tentatively said, closing the distance between them slightly.

"Go on." Aegon demurred through a raised brow.

"Next time there's a ball, pluck up the courage to ask me before somebody else does! Offer me a real invitation. And not as a last resort!"

Tears were now freely streaming down her face. Before their eyes, (Y/N) could feel her hair falling into a mess and her cheeks reddening from the lack of air. Aegon's eyes widened and Aemond's hand reached out to her reflexively.

"W-well that's... that's just completely off the point!" Aegon's voice cracked nervously, now taking several steps back. "Jace...!" He blurted out, seeing his nephiew finally exit the Great Hall.

Aemond didn't turn to greet him, but (Y/N) did. Her eyes were blown out of proportion and her voice was hoarse from yelling. Upon seeing his face, all of the frustrations that she'd bottled up for the past two weeks emptied before them with the strenght of a hurricane.

"Where have you been?" She inhaled sharply.

"W-well Luke needed me to --"

"-- Nevermind! Off to bed, all three of you!"

Jacerys looks at her for a moment - at her tightened lips and teary cheeks.

The guilt pierces his heart like a Dementor's kiss. He knows he's half the reason for (Y/N)'s suffering, her tears only coming into play as a confirmation of how badly he'd hurt her.

Not knowing what to say, fearful that anything else he may add will only ruin her night even further, he nods his head briefly, hurrying past her.

He's climbing the steps with Aegon; Aemond pushed to follow as well by (Y/N)'s trembling hands.

"They get scary when they get older." Aegon articulates to Jace loudly, ripping a loud shriek from the heartbroken girl.

"AEGON, YOU SPOILED EVERYTHING!"

The boys climb up even faster as (Y/N) collapses, a faint "You bloody asshole" being the last thing she discerns before erupting into a fit of sobs.

At last, as soon as she approached her bed, (Y/N)'s feet gave out on supporting her weight.

Looking around the dark room, saddened by the end of such a beautiful day, she noticed how all the other beds were empty. None of her dorm mates returned - all of them more than likely still ghosting though the halls of Hogwarts. Still seating at the edge of her bed, the young girl brought a pillow to her arms, hugging it tightly.

She would take off her make-up, undo what was left of her braids. She'd bathe, change into her night clothes and sleep: during her slumber, she'd soon forget all about the Yule Ball and it's rattling events.

Her life would turn back to normal. Back to the missing assignments and staying up till 2 AM.

The last concept within her trail of thought brought a strained smile upon her swollen lips.

She shakes her head, massaging the nape of her neck with one hand. She gets ready to leave for the Prefect Bathrooms until...

A large shadow grazes the floor of her dorm. Startled, albeit curious of it's main source, (Y/N) scurries to the bright window, peeking outside.

A tiny rock gets thrown on the upper left corner of it. And then another. And another.

Her eyes travel up into the sky, catching a wave of long, silver hair.

... Aemond.

Satisfied that he managed to get her attention, he lowers his broom until he is at precise eye level with her.

A sudden burst of happiness flourishes within her heart.

No.

The last time she'd been eager to see Aemond, the boy all but chased her away. Not even two hours ago, he was dancing with Alys Rivers, paying no mind to her or her crushed feelings.

But then he wasn't. And then he gripped her. Touched her. He stayed behind for her. His eye bore into her frame, searching for her wide smile.

Still lost in thought, she felt Aemond tap into the window, signaling to it's nearby handle. It was cold outside, and he wanted her to open up.

A tiny smile framed her face. Shrugging her shoulders, (Y/N) played with her dress, watching the older male intensely.

Aemond mirrored her expression, pleading with his eye, until (Y/N) finally yielded. She hurried to open her window, making space for an easier landing for her friend.

"What I did to you," Aemond began with a strangled breath, "It was more than just wrong and cruel."

Now leaning on a wall and clasping both her hands together, the younger Gryffindor let out a confirming mumble.

"I know."

"You were always... here for me. Encouraging me." He added slowly, carefully. "When I lost my eye, I thought you would run away. ... Or make fun of me for being crippled."

(Y/N) turned livid at his words. With renowed vigour, she snapped in her place. "Aemond, I would never make fun of you for such a thing. Nor would I ever run."

"I know, I know." He whispered to her softly, daring to approach her and take her hands in his.

He prayed she wouldn't turn away.

When her hands turned lax within his, Aemond thanked whichever God had answered him, swearing his heartbeat became so loud, that all those within the West Tower could hear it.

"You were nothing short of kind. And good. And full of love. The day you kissed over my disfigured face, was the day I swore to always be by your side. As much, and for as long as you'd allow me."

(Y/N) let out a strained breath. She had never heard Aemond talk so feverently. So full of passion.

His pupil, so dilated by love and concentration, that one could barely see the ring of purple she had grown to love so much.

"You did all those things. Expecting nothing in return." As he pondered on her doings, his shuddering hand buried itself into his ball robes.

One by one, he took out all the objects that (Y/N) had given him selflessly throughout their friendship. An apple, stolen from dinner. A handkerchief, used to tie his bleeding knee. A brown hair band, from when his hair had gotten too long for comfort. A red button from her favourite dress, when he lost the one securing his robes, and cried to her that his mother would get mad at him.

Placing everything on the table, he used his free hand to gently cup her face.

"Yet when you needed me most, I ran away." His thumb slowly stroked her bottom lip, then gently moved to her eyes, wiping the black streaks of liner that her crying ensured.

The pair stood in silence for a brief moment, their blood running hot with need, with want, until Aemond swallowed and went on.

"I have no right to ask for your forgiveness." His breathing became laboured before coming to a halt. "So I'm not asking for it. I'm begging for it." As soon as the words left his mouth, the youngest Targaryen fell to his knees.

"... For you."

"God, Aemond...!"

His stare was getting too intense. As if he himself could feel that, he brought her hands down to his face, pressing his forehead against them.

Both their bodies were shaking in the dark. For the thousanth time that night, Aemond cursed himself for being so weak with her.

"Aemond..."

He knew he would never adore anything more than the way his name fell from her lips.

"... I love you." He whispered to (Y/N) and, if she couldn't feel his breath on her hands, she would be sure she had imagined it.

Waves of pure delight took a hold of her when she heard his strained words. Suddenly, all she thought of was how to make him say it again.

"Please - Aemond. Say it again. Please." She gasped, breathless.

"I love you. I love you. Avy jorrāelan. Avy jorrāelan sīr olvie ziry ziebzis."

His desperate pants melted any reminder of (Y/N)'s last resort. Crouching down to his level, she cupped his cheeks into her small hands, making small circles into his skin, tenderly stroking his deep and pink scar.

"I love you, too. So, so much."

That was all the confirmation Aemond needed, before kissing her oh so slowly.

The way his right hand rubbed her jaw soothingly, as if she would break at any moment, his left resting on her waist, pulling her closer - it was truly magical.

For a while, the only sound in the dorm was the echo of their moans and the loud gasps of the wind.

(Y/N) pulled away first, needed fresh air to breathe. Within a second, she dived back in, this time pressing herself harder against Aemond's chest, who only let out a low and satisfied hum.

"Mm, wait --" (Y/N) separated from him with a loud pop. "I hate to be a mood killer, but... w-what about Alys?"

Aemond looked at her adoringly, before licking his lips tentatively. "I can assure you. There was never room in my heart for Alys. Neither could there ever be."

(Y/N) let out a relieved laugh. "Good. Me neither, with Borya." She confessed rather awkwardly, and it was the boy's time to laugh this time. "I would have guessed as much." He said with a dangerous glint in his eye, "With how hard you kissed me, there was barely room for question."

"Speaking of hard things..." The girl mused at him, lightly shoving him away.

The two looked at each other for a moment, before snorting loudly.

Still holding onto her, Aemond went to the edge of her bed, plopping her into it ceremoniously, and stepping towards her window to close it back up. "I don't want you cold."

Striding back into her bed, he laid next to her, brushing the tangled hairs from all around her face. "Though I can think of a few ways to warm you right up."

As she blushed wildly, (Y/N) rolled her eyes at him. Her smiled falthered, however, with one left lingering question, and she raised from her bed, ready to talk serious business.

Sensing the change of mood, Aemond sat upright as well, going over her face. "What happened, jorrāelagon hen issa glaeson? What's on your mind?"

"This..." (Y/N) gestured between them. "Us. What are we now, exactly?" A smirk crept it's way across Aemond's features at that last question. Huffing, (Y/N) crossed her hands to her chest, nudging him slightly. "Don't make fun of me now. I only... want to hear you say it. To make sure we're on the same wave lenght."

"I suppose the appropriate term is 'lovers'. Though, girlfriend and boyfriend work just as well. Companions, innamoratos, paramours, sweethearts..."

"Okay, okay, I got it, thank you." The girl covered his mouth with a loud laugh and felt the great shudder of pleasure, when Aemond covered her hand with his own, kissing the inside flesh of it softly.

"I have long laid my masculinity at the altar of your maidenhood. From now on, and for as long as you will have me - I am yours. And eternally I shall remain."

His tone was serious. Unwavered. And something within (Y/N) knew his words to be true.

"You may cage me forever, as you see fit, just do not release me from your grasp."

┍━━━━━━━━»•» 🌸 «•«━┑

┍━━━━━━━━━━━━━┑

Translations:

"Avy jorrāelan" = I love you;

"Avy jorrāelan sīr olvie ziry ziebzis" = I love you so much it hurts;

"Jorrāelagon hen issa glaeson" = love of my life.

┕━━━━━━━━━━━━━┙

┕━»•» 🌸 «•«━━━━━━━━┙

#aemond x reader #aegon x reader #jace x reader #jacerys x reader #aemond targaryen #aegon targaryen #jacerys strong #jacerys velaryon #house of the dragon #hogwarts #hogwarts au #slow burn #yandere!jace #yandere!aemond

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princessconsuela120 · 2 months

Text

Chapter Sixteen: If I Ever Did Believe —✧

Series masterlist

Chapter warnings: mentions of injury, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of death, that’s it.

Authors note: I know this has been sooooo long guys, but one more chapter and we’re done! Don’t forget to like comment and leave requests, they are still open😉 enjoy!!

—✧

For the past week, I had been staying with Kenny and his kind family. After Kenny was released from the hospital, I made a promise to help take care of him. He didn’t want me too, but who cares, I don’t listen to anyone.

Most nights had occurred the way today had. Kenny, Karen and I bunched together in the living room, watching movies as Karen did my hair, or painted my nails, or did my makeup.

“This color is perfect for you Juno.” Karen said kindly, smiling at me as she painted my nails.

“Aww thanks carebear.” I replied, smiling at her.

“You two are insufferable.” Kenny grumbled, turning the tv volume up even louder to try and drown out the talking.

“Shut up and eat your potatoes.” Juno hissed, making Kenny look back with a fake smile, as he batted his eyelashes at her.

“I can’t, can you feed them to me mama?” He teased, making me roll my eyes at him as I shoved him lightly.

“Shut up you ass hole.”

“Juno!” Kenny yelled, holding two hands over my stomach as best as he could with his cast, pretending to cover the baby’s ears. “Language! Not infront of the baby.”

“Oh shut up.”

“I can’t wait to be an aunt.” Karen said, a wide smile on her face, he eyes lit up from the look of my stomach.

“You’re gonna be a great one too Karen.” Kenny said, pulling her into him happily.

“I think it’s gonna be a girl.” She said excitedly. She held her nail polish out, smiling as she waved it excitedly before continuing my nails. “And I’m gonna do her nails, and her hair.”

“You think it’s gonna be a girl? I was thinking a boy.” I exclaimed, watching as she concentrated on my nails.

“I think it’s a girl. It’s my aunt powers you know?” I nodded, unable to argue with her reasoning.

“Of course.”

“You’re gonna look so beautiful for the baby when she’s born.” Karen cheered, referring to my hair that she was now doing.

“All thanks to you Karenn…” my words were interrupted with a groan. “Ugh, god.”

“What? What’s wrong?” Kenny asked nervously, jumping up from his spot at my discomfort.

“More false contractions. Pissing this kid off to no end, they won’t stop kicking me.” I grumbled, squeezing my eyes shut at the sting.

“Can, can I feel?” Karen asked, making me smile. I grabbed her hand, placing it where the baby had just kicked.

“Of course.”

“Woah. That’s so cool.” She whispered, causing me to turn to Kenny with a smile.

“I know. I can never keep my hands away anymore.” He exclaimed, placing his hand beside Karen’s.

“I can’t wait to meet you.” She whispered.

“I’m not gonna lie you guys this is really nice.” Kenny said, smiling around at Karen and I.

“Yeah.”

“Me and my best girls.” Kenny said, putting a hand on my stomach. “You two little cutie.” He whispered, rubbing gently over my bump.

“I’m telling you it’s a boy.” I teased, making Kenny scoff.

“Ah, my sister’s always right.” He said, high diving with Karen before pulling her to his side, letting her snuggle into him as we turned our attention to the movie.

—✧

Liane Cartman passed away a week after we came back from the cabin. It was strange actually, Kyle and I had gone to visit with flowers the night Cartman got back from the hospital. I think she may have known something was coming, she was always a smart woman. That night we talked and talked, more than I may have ever spoken with Liane in my life. She went peacefully, Cartman said she was sleeping when it happened. Her funeral was the next day, almost all of South Park was there.

It was as quiet as it could’ve been in the morning, the only sound being the chirping of birds that flew around. Blue jays, to be more specific. Eric had always told me that he loved blue jays. He loved them because of her. Whenever we’d go over to Eric’s house, Ms.Cartman would always boast about the bird feeder outside. How the blue jays would show up.

I love blue jays now too.

“I’m so sorry Eric.” I mumbled, quiet to try and keep the peace that Liane left behind. Eric shrugged as I placed a hand comfortingly on his shoulder.

“Hey, it’s life isn’t it?” He replied shortly, making Kyle drown at his words.

“Doesn’t mean you can’t be upset.” Kyle said.

I turned to face Eric as he looked at me. He frowned, and soon that frown turned into a cry, and he was hiding his face in my chest. I couldn’t do anything but hug him back.

It was an odd sight, to comfort Eric. Usually he’d be making snarky comments as someone else comforted me. But it was nice, sad, but nice seeing that Eric was human too. And like all humans, grief stings.

“You stay with us now, yeah? That way you aren’t alone.” I suggested, pulling away as Eric whipped his eyes on his sleeve.

“I can’t do that. You guys need space.” He argued, making me shake my head.

“No, Eric really. We’re moving into the barn with Stan. Gonna renovate and redecorate for the baby.” I explained, smiling at him softly.

“We’d be more than happy for you to live with us.” Kyle joined, smiling at him as well.

“You guys have shown me way more kindness than I deserve.” Eric said, letting out a shaky smile as I rubbed his shoulder comfortingly.

“Everyone deserves love Eric. Even you.” Kyle said, shoving Eric lightly, making him chuckle.

—✧

“This is the crib.” Stan said, holding up a large cardboard box with Kenny on the other end, slightly out of breath from having carried it all the way from the car. I smiled, pointing to the spot I wanted it placed.

“Oh, perfect. Over there by the rocking chair.” I explained, making Stan sigh as he and Kenny carried it to the corner.

We had finally been able to move into the barn. Dad was giving the spot up, to nit tempt any future farming plans, and besides, now we wouldn’t bug my parents with the baby. We were having a baby, Kyle and I figured we needed a place to stay. Now, even better, Stan was moving with us. And so was Kenny, and now Cartman. I wasn’t gonna say I was excited, but damn I was so excited.

“You know, if you know where everything goes why don’t you carry a box in?” Stan whined, making me roll my eyes, handing him the small box I carried as I gestured to my large stomach.

“Because, Stanley, I happen to be with child.” I replied sarcastically, making him roll his eyes.

“Oh yeah, right, how could I forget.”

“This is crazy. This is so crazy! I mean we’re actually living together.” Kenny cheered excitedly, Kyle smiling at me as he came to wrap an arm around my waist.

“I know right? This has been our dream since we were kids.” Kyle exclaimed as I snuggled into his side.

“I can’t believe your dad let us take the barn.” Kenny said as Stan and I looked at each other.

“Neither can we.” We both chuckled as we responded in unison.

“It’s good though, he’s finally ready to let tegridy go.” Stan couldn’t help but smile as he said that.

“Who knows, maybe we can plant his left over…” Stan and I both quickly interrupted Kenny before he could finish.

“No!” We both shouted, making Kenny hold his hands up in defense.

“I was gonna say his left over fruits and veggies. Calm down guys.”

“Sorry. Just uh, traumatizing.” I laughed nervously, shaking my head to redirect the conversation. “Alright so, Kyle and I have the room next to the nursery, so that means, Stan upstairs, Kenny downstairs and Cartman…”

“I can take the couch, it’s fine.” Cartman said quickly, making Kyle roll his eyes.

“Don’t be ridiculous Eric.”

“No really, it’s not much harm.”

“Eric, stop. You’re living here, with us. We want you here, with us. This room is for you.” Kyle explained, shaking Eric’s hand. I couldn’t hold back the tears that pricked in my eyes any longer, and Kyle turned to me with a frown.

“Hey, don’t cry, it’s okay.” He said, pulling me closer to him. I grabbed his hand with a tearful smile.

“No, I know. I’m just so happy right now.”

#south park x reader #kyle broflovski x reader #stan marsh x reader #kyle broflovski #stan marsh #kenny mccormick x reader #stan marsh x sister reader

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