#enchanted knight x reader

[sp00kworm]

One Word

Pairing: Enchanted Armour/Knight (Sir Jurdanus Dawling) x Reader

Warnings: Fighting, Fantasy Violence

Summary: An Enchanted Knight finds you amidst a mushroom circle and your life is never the same after.

Rain dripped down the back of your neck as you flopped onto the mossy floor. There was no way out of a mushroom circle. They were carefully laid traps, hidden behind roots and dotted in intricate patterns which made them hard to predict. Whatever Fae had hidden this one was powerful indeed. The mushrooms were like iron and the small pebbles between skipped upwards at your face when you attempted to break the circle. Your fingers were numb from trying to force them between the littler mushrooms. It was impenetrable, and eventually you would be food for the Fae who wanted to steal you away. There was some Fae that didn’t eat mortals, but those were far and few between. The only thing you could do was try and think of deals you could try to trick the creature which came to collect you. If it took them longer than a few more days, you would be dead anyway. There was an odd comfort in that. You wouldn’t be subjected to the whims of whatever the Fae decided to do with you. The other hope was someone stumbling along your path, but few would be able to taint the Fae circle enough to let you free, and you didn’t have much you could offer them anyway.

How many more hours would you last, you wondered? Defeated, you cradled your hand and sat inside the circle, massaging the tender joints as you watched the sun move overhead. It was nearly evening time, the sun was beginning to set along the horizon, threatening the sky with orange and pink. The trees rustled and birds sang their evening tunes as you picked at the pebbles around you and flicked them against the ward. The pebbles pinged back at you like a game, and for a time it was entertaining. Sodden moss wet your bottom and you tried to ignore the wetness on your backside, sitting on the moss in favour of the agony of sitting on several rocks. The old trees creaked in the wind, and you removed your satchel to look at the mushrooms and herbs you had managed to collect before getting stuck.

Suddenly, the whole woodland went quiet. No animal made a murmur as the wind continued to blow gently through the leaves. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end, waving with the wind as there was a great ‘thunk’ in the distance. The heavy clunk of armour thudded along the winding path between the old, twisted trees. The blood in your limbs went cold and your heart leaped into your throat. You stood up again and watched down the old dirt path as a great, heavy suit of armour rounded the corner. The armour was maybe six and a half feet tall, and the heavy cloak fastened about the shoulders made it all the more imposing. The steel was stained with black carbon, and the details were once orange copper. The details were green in most places but the emblem in the centre of the chassis, once bright, was a Swan, swooping upwards towards the sky, its neck bowed gracefully. There was a crown around its neck, resting on the top of where its wings were spread. The Knight rounded the trees closest to you, his armour clanking before he stood, the visor fixed on you trapped in the circle of mushrooms.

“Sir!” You shouted, “Please could you help me out of this faery circle?”

The Knight tilted his head, watching you carefully as his other hand not rested on the trunk of the oak, reach for his sword. He had two on his back, strapped underneath the great fur cloak which lined his shoulders. Watching him reach for the sword you panicked and reached for your bag, attempting to find something which would prove you were not Fae.

“Please, Sir...” You rummaged, throwing the pouches of weeds and herbs you had collected before you dragged out a small iron link you had found. You clenched it between your hands and showed him your skin, “Please... I’m no Fae. I got trapped here while foraging. I promise!”

The Knight looked at the link before he thundered over, the dark metal of his armour glimmering in the setting sun. The copper detailing was sickly green, almost falling off, and his neck piece squeaked with rust as he drew the long sword from his back. He turned his stance and looked at the mushrooms before there was a rattle through the armour and his hand reached forwards to where the magical barrier lay. The barrier rippled under his hand, the magic caving like a bubble, but still resisting. With another shuddering rattle the Knight grasped his sword by the hilt and stabbed it forwards. The warding screamed as the blade burst through the magic, sending sparks flying as he heaved the iron through it, to the floor. When he reached the floor, the Knight turned the blade swiftly and severed several of the mushroom caps. The barrier faded with a hiss and just like that, you were free.

You tried not to gawp as the Knight sheathed his weapon and stood back, resting his hands on his hips. You quickly hopped out of the circle and sighed with relief as you collected your items. When you finished you looked back at the Knight.

“Thank you, Sir...” You asked, wondering what the Knight’s name was. He probably had a House Name.

The Knight shuddered inside his armour again before the joints clicked and a voice echoed inside, “Sir... Sir, S-Sir...” He couldn’t seem to say his name.

“I’m sorry?” You asked, “Sir?”

Again the voice echoed from inside, “Sir...Sir...”

You frowned softly at him before daring to reach for the visor which covered his eyes. He let you grasp the metal, subdued and quiet.

“Here let me open this so you can...” You said before tugging the visor. It remained firmly shut. With a grunt you tugged it hard. It stayed down, as though it was glued.

The pieces fell into place then, and you let your hands fall to his broad shoulders. You fisted the fur. It was well cared for but old and holes had opened in the bottom of the soft leather upper. The crest wad old, battered and stained.

“You’re cursed aren’t your?” You asked as you stood flat footed again on the woodland floor.

The Knight nodded his head and tapped the crest in the centre of his chest. There was the house crest and a small moto painted intricately underneath.

“Alte Volant”

“I’m no specialist but this is definitely noble house armour... but, well I guess I could help you, as thanks for helping me?” You offered with a shaky sigh.

The Enchanted Knight nodded, his neck squeaking a little, and offered a hand to you. You looked down and then realised he was offering to carry your bags. Carefully you gave him the larger of the two and kept your satchel.

As your bag landed in his gauntlet, the air fizzed and a blue skinned Fae stepped out from a tree, their eight eyes twitching at the sight of the broken circle. Quickly, you whipped around, but the Knight was faster. The Fae span with another hiss of fury, her hands raised, crackling with blue magic as the tree roots curled violently under the woodland floor. As she clenched her teeth, magic shot from her, and the Knight grabbed his shield from his back, the great steel plated with old iron. He dragged you behind him in a flash as the bolt clanged against the shield and dissipated like water, falling as mist f. The Fae hissed again her body morphing into the trees as she skittered around and observed you both through one great black eye.

“A suit of armour playing Knight.” She gloated, “You died a long time ago, Knight!” She hung from the tree and reached her scales fingers for his helmet, “Iron is unbecoming. Iron is cheating.”

Instead of an answer, he sliced her fingers off with a strike of his blade and pushed forwards. The Fae screamed, and you covered your ears, watching as the Knight slammed her head against his shield then again, with a downwards arch, sending the Fae flying against the floor. There was a great screech before the iron blade sliced through her neck. You jumped as blue blood spurted up the trees and shook behind a trunk as the Knight wiped his blade with a clump or moss. He looked up and reclined his head at you. Without him, you would be dead.

You took a deep breath, “Come on, let’s get out of the woods.” You beckoned him to follow you as you grabbed your bags and made your way down the path. The thump of heavy armour behind you was the only indication you had of the Knight following you.

Luckily, your home was on the outskirts of town, tucked against the woods you had just been trapped in. The stone cottage had smoke billowing out of the chimney still, so that was a good sign that the cottage would be warm still. You opened the gates and looked back at the Knight following you. He paused by the gate and stared for a moment at the small, cobbled path to your home before he stepped inside the garden and waited again. You looked at the blue blood which had stained his armour before closing the gate and leading him inside to your home. The door creaked a little as you let the hunk of armour inside and you closed it firmly before turning the key in the lock and heading to the hearth. As you stirred the hearth the Knight stood by the table looking up at the dried plants and flowers.

“Come and sit down, I don’t know of you can still feel the cold, but it’ll at least be better than standing by the door.” You waved him over before getting a damp cloth from the kitchen area for him to clean the blood off himself. Graciously he reclined his head and placed a gauntlet over his chest. He began carefully cleaning the blood from the grooves of the paint.

While he cleaned himself you placed a couple of logs onto the stirred flames and looked into the ashes. Sat at the back of the hearth was the charcoal coloured egg you had found so long ago. It was a dragon egg. Abandoned or stolen, you didn’t know, but there was life in it as it wiggled gently and soaked in the heat of the new fire. The Knight caught your gaze and peered at the wobbling egg in fascination. A disapproving grunt was his only comment.

“Yes, I know. But I couldn’t leave it to die with the Fae.” You reasoned softly as you emptied your bag onto your work surface. The Knight shook his head but continued his work.

“How about we look for your crest? I have an old history book somewhere, and it has most of the noble houses in it.” You offered.

His visor turned slightly but he made no effort to tell you he wanted to have a look. Ignoring his silence, you went to get the book.

The book was very old. Your great, great grandmother had taken it before the great collapse. Many of the old houses no longer existed, after the revolution, but a few still remained in the far reaches of the country. You wondered just how long this Knight had been wandering. With a thud you placed the book on the table and leafed through to the catalogue of old house emblems. There were around a hundred, and you took a breath before beginning to scan for the old, battered coat of arms which was printed onto his chest plate. A swan in flight. It was a regal link. The Knight had maybe been close to the Queen before the collapse and that was many years ago. He could have been cursed a long time.

“Edelwyn… nope that’s a tree. Oakenfast… no that’s an acorn. Unicorn… a hare. That’s a peacock…” You turned the pages as the Knight creaked next to the fire, warming the leathers of his skirts before he began to brush the dirt from his cape with a hard brush. His weapons were next and you watched him for a moment as he pulled out carefully stored oils and cloths and began to meticulously clean the Fae blood from the iron. A few more pages revealed nothing until a crown appeared.

“Well, we might be down the right track, Sir!” You cheered as you reached for the kettle and filled it from a pail of water. Once it was over the fire you fetched the book and sat in the other chair on the large, overstuffed pillows.  You looked at the crest on his chest again and hummed, flicking between three pages before you found it.

“Dawling!” You cried out as you hopped out of the chair and showed the Knight the book. The crest on his chest was penned beautifully with inks of good quality. You beamed at his helmet as you pointed at the crowned swan.

With a faint creak of metal, the knight reached up to take the book from your outstretched hands. There was the faint sound of wheezing breathing through the visor of his helmet as he touched the page with the crest and then carefully, like he was caressing a baby bird, traced the letters of his family name.

“Dawling was the closest family to the Queen.” You told him quietly, “Before the revolution the Dawling family were the last near her and all of them were said to have perished when they burned the castle in the North.”

With a soft nod he looked over the small descriptive notes, his armour flexing gently with tension.

“I’m sorry, for what it’s worth…” You offered a gentle hand to him.

He said nothing but you watched him reach up, his fingers twitching. The metal of his gauntlets was cold against your skin but smooth and well looked after. Warmth enveloped his fingers from your skin and the Knight peered up at you. His visor was shined and as he put the book down you saw a faint glow behind the slats. Behind the metal there were two haunting eyes. The blue eyes glimmered before disappearing again into the darkness of the armour. Wisps of light trailed out of his neck.

“Would you like anything?” You asked as you patted his hand.

The knight shook his head as he looked back at the dancing flames.

“I suppose now I have to call you Sir Dawling!” You joked as you let go of his hand, “I wonder who put this curse on you though…I suppose we will never know now, but you can stay here a while if you like?” You offered.

Sir Dawling turned to look at you and nodded his confirmation, the flames reflecting patterns over his armour.

“I’ll make you the spare room up then.” With a smile you went to collect some linens but you were stopped by Dawling standing by the fire shaking his head, pointing to the sunset in the sky. With a confused stare you followed him towards the door and watched as he stood by the door, collecting his weapons.

“Can you not sleep?” You asked as he packed his weapons. He shook his head again and then made the shape of a butterfly which his armoured hands. When that didn’t work, he pointed to the blue blood which remained on his shield.

“The Fae? I doubt they would come this far out of the woods and beside they can’t get in here without invitation.” You soothed, but Sir Dawling shook his head and insisted, opening the door. He closed it behind him, his leathers squeaking a little as he sat outside the door on a small log. You looked through the glass of the window as he took his whetstone out and continued to work his blades. It seemed as though he was to stand guard. Maybe he didn’t need to sleep? He was after all, cursed. With a sigh you went to the fire and decided to make dinner, pondering on the curses which could have been cast over him before the revolution truly took root in the country. You stoked the fire gently around the dragon egg still nested in the coals. There was an answer to the riddle that you could not see.

A few hours later, after reading numerous books on the subject of magics, you hadn’t found many answers. The key to the Knight’s curse probably laid in the type of magic used to curse him. With more questions than answers you stood from the fire, wrapped tight in a blanket, and took the spare to the door. Quietly you listened behind the wood. Sir Dawling’s armour creaked with the phantom movements of his breathing and quietly the thud of his metal finger against his thigh. Quietly, you opened the door. His helmet turned to face you immediately. Dawling made a shooing motion with his fingers, beckoning you to head back inside. You stepped out onto the stone step and smiled at him before offering him the heavy woollen blanket. You could see he was eyeing the red dyed wool, but instead of giving him a choice you thrust it over his lap and smiled. Carefully, he unfolded the fabric and laid it over his thighs.

“You don’t have to stay out here you know… I feel bad with you out here protecting me and helping me again.” You sighed and rubbed at your shoulders against the cold.

Sir Dawling held his hand up and shook his head, as though it was no trouble at all for him.

“But still… there has to be something I can do?” You asked, “Or maybe give you? I don’t want you out here all night bored…”

Again, Sir Dawling shook his head and you sighed at his protest.

“Fine but please, come back inside if you’re cold or anything. I’ll keep the fire on for the little one anyway.” You joked.

He shook his head at the idea of the dragon egg again and fixed his gaze on the moon and the stars above. You left him there, gazing up at the night sky, and went to bed.

For fourteen nights, Sir Dawling sat outside your cottage. Reluctantly, throughout the day you let him follow you too and from your jobs in town. You didn’t have a particular profession, but you had a lot of room for foraging and several of the plants on your property were useful to the locals. Alongside a bountiful variety of mushrooms there were several herbs like mint and rosemary which were used in salves. Sir Dawling watched the exchanges carefully, wary of the townsfolk who were wary of him. The people asked after him curiously, but most of the people in the town were far too familiar with the workings of the Fae in the woodlands. Once you explained a few of them were even sympathetic towards the poor Knight, though the others knew that a crest meant he was once someone of an important station. Not many looked on the Queen or her Court favourably out in the woods. Still, no one had said anything, yet. Sir Dawling followed behind you, his tattered cloak billowing, and his swords an obvious statement of prowess. He didn’t need to draw them for people to know he was a killer.  

“Are you going to sit out here again?” You asked on the fifteenth night as you gave him a clean blanket.

Sir Dawling shrugged his shoulders, and as always, he didn’t reply.

“Well would you like a fire? I don’t know if you can feel cold but I got a little cast iron fire pit while I was out in town today!” You pointed to the edge of the small vegetable patch where the iron pit was located.

With a creak, Sir Dawling stood up, his armour clanking as he reached the fire pit and then bent over in order to drag it closer to the door. He reached for a log from the stack you had down the side of the house, but you had already beaten the Knight to it.

“Here.” You smiled and watched him take the log before you went inside to fetch some kindling and a small scoop of hot coals from the fire inside, “You know, the egg is really close to hatching I think.”

Sir Dawling shook his head at the mention of the egg you had pilfered inside of your home.

“I know you think I’m silly for keeping it…” You said as you handed the Dawling the kindling, “But I couldn’t stand the idea of a poacher getting it! That or the Fae. I just wanted to see if I could save it.”

A long wheezing sigh echoed from the chamber of Sir Dawling’s armour as he took the hot coals from your hands and carefully poured the scoop under the kindling. The twigs quickly caught fire with a few fans of his hands. Gently, he handed you the fire scoop back to take back inside and you did so before returning, running with your oven gloves on, with the dragon egg in hand. The egg gave another shake and a creak as you ran for the fire pit outside.

“SIR DAWLING! FAN THE FLAMES QUICK!” You screeched.

Sir Dawling took the fan from your pocket and fanned the flames as high as he could get them as you rolled the egg gently into the fire. The charcoaled shell cracked with the smoking wood, and you gazed at it in amazement as fiery lines erupted over the surface. The red patterns intertwined with one another, weaving an intricate image over the shell before a small, horned nose butted a chip in the shell. Sir Dawling leaned close enough to watch the egg shake and a small nose batter at the shell again. The flames licked the surface, like a caressing mother, and you dropped the oven gloves in favour of squatting by the pit.

The iron base glowed with the heat as another great creak sounded and a spiked tail flopped into the wood. The wood spat at you as claws raked at the thick calcium, gouging freedom from the egg. Horns prickled the egg and soon a small, growl sounded from the flames. A small, jade green dragon curled in the fire, grumbling in the fire, its tail poised high, and its neck flared defensively. It hissed and spat a small flame. With a firm hand, Sir Dawling removed the fire poker and watched as the dragonling growled, its sharp, ravenous teeth flashing. You looked at the jewelled creature in awe before sitting by the side of the fire and replacing your oven mittens. The dragon spat, its horned prickled in your direction, but you reached gently to move the eggshell out of the fire. Dawling’s helmet shifted to you, watching as you reached into the coals again and then placed the meat you were going to cook into the embers. The dragon grumbled, lowly, like a cat, but quickly turned its slitted pupils on the meat. Its eyes were a glorious orange, like amber. Carefully, its claws hooked the food, and you delighted quietly as it took the food and began chewing at the chicken leg.

“I know…” You whispered at Dawling as he looked to reach for the poker again, “Its stupid to try, but I think I can do this. Its such a beautiful creature.”

With another echoing sigh, Dawling nodded and watched you feed the dragon.   

Another leg of a chicken had the small dragon clawing at the edge of the fire pit, its head raised, looking up at you with a gentle rumble. The scales down its neck glittered in the fire light like gems. The dragon was beautiful. Carefully you dared to let the hatchling sniff your hand. The dragon rumbled, sniffed and then carefully pushed its head up into your hand. Underneath its chin, as it raise its head, there was the glittering of a bright, pearl coloured scale, round and fat like a heavy gemstone. It glittered before the hatchling ducked its head again and growled, hopping out of the fire to curl around your legs. The dragon peered up at Sir Dawling from between your legs, and cocked its head, wondering about the suit of armour which clunked in its seat.

“He’s cursed.” You offered down at the dragon, “He did something in his previous life which upset a great sorceress, so she made him like this.” You smiled at Sir Dawling, offering him your hand and a comforting squeeze. His gauntlets creaked with the squeeze, but you smiled at him and then offered the dragon your hand as well.

“Wait… how do I tell if it’s a male or female…” You whispered as you turned back towards the house. The dragon followed dutifully, swinging its tail like a happy kitten as you both slipped through the door.

“How do you like Frasadu?” You asked the dragon. It chirped in response, “So maybe you are a boy…”

Sir Dawling shifted on the log outside, touching the crest on his chest as he watched you go inside, feeling an odd ache where once his chest was. The Knight shook his head, moaning inside the armour as he reached for the poker by the fire.

There was a disgusting sound, like two pieces of metal grinding metal together, which woke you up. With a scream, you shot out of bed, just as there was a great slam against the heavy stone wall of your home. You heard the sing of iron outside, indicating Sir Dawling had drawn his sword. The dragon by the fire stirred, and opened his mouth, his teeth lighting with fire. You rushed to the door, grabbing a dagger before you opened it. Frasadu howled at outside, and you froze by the door as Dawling’s sword sliced through the first fae who dared to get too close. With a rush of odd light, his gauntlet slammed through the chest of another, and you stood, clutching at the iron dagger as the bottom wall of the garden exploded into rubble. A great insect like beast crawled over the stones, its mouth parts slicing against one another again to make the awful noise.

“DAWLING!” You screamed as the insect beast slammed a great, needle like leg down towards him. The Knight rolled and sliced upwards, severing one of the monster’s legs before he made a quick roll back towards you. He held his hand up and you watched as Frasadu roared, flaring his wings before he shot a great ball of explosive fire at the insect. The beast screeched and reared before its abdomen set ablaze, and it sprinted for the trees, howling.

The fae watched their monster run and hissed, their black eyes glinting like oil slick in the fire. A few of them slunk behind the logs and rubbles of your walls, watching as you reached to touch the top of Frasadu’s head. There was a brief moment of silence amidst the crackling rubble, both parties staring at one another. Dawling flicked the blood from his great sword and turned the flat of the blade upwards at the slinking faeries.

“You have dragon lord blood.” A great tall Fae slunk from the rubble, her white hair was braided intricately around her head, holding poisonous thorns and dried hawthorn leaves. Gossamer wings fluttered behind her, placing her before you gracefully.  Her face was narrow, impossibly thin in all dimensions, and her skin glittered green with a shine of iridescence. Black eyes bore holes in Sir Dawling as he stepped between the two of you.

“Silence Knight.” She scoffed. Her clawed fingers gripped into a fist and you felt the metallic scream of Sir Dawling as he was thrown in the air, writhing, his armour denting and groaning in on itself, “The incessant smell of your shame bores me.” The Fae spat, “You were cursed for it, and so you will end with it, curled in a ball of molten rotting metal.”

“Wait!” You begged, holding your hands out as you rushed in front of Dawling. He howled above you as his gauntlets were peeled open, each joint pulling outwards from his body. His arms buckled as you stared down the Fae.

“He is protecting me. He saved me…and I have looked after him. He does not deserve this…” You asked of her, “Please, leave him be.”

“I, Ushura, Lady of Glowing Stars, will not let the Fae Slayer live.” Ushura screamed, her fingers gripping the metal, tearing at it with the familiar glow of blue magic. It was the same colour that glowed inside of Sir Dawling’s armour from time to time.

“Please, my lady.” You begged, “What can be done to repay this sin?” You asked.

Ushura spat her disdain at your feet, “Your Queen has long since died. She was the one who asked it of him, but he was the one who carried it out, burning our burrows, slaughtering our children in their nests!” Fury burned in her veins, the weight of a thousand lives, her people, heavy on her shoulders.

“He suffers still for his slight, my lady, but please, let him live.” You asked, “I do not know what I am or who I am to you, yet, but I can only try and make things right.”

Ushura held Sir Dawling aloft, but the crushing of his armour halted, as did his howling. You watched her black eyes soften a little at the edges as she looked at the small hatchling at your side.

“Misee wi. Forni talmas, ui porteh alme.” She spoke gently, watching as the dragon at your side listened, his ear turned to her. The hatchling dipped his head and turned, his head stretched upwards, revealing the pearl beneath his neck. It was strangely, like you knew what to do, and you reached out carefully to touch the pearl. Frasadu hummed against you, and there was a great spark of white, brilliant light. You heard the Fae recoil and hide behind the rubble. There was an unending ringing in your ears before the light dimmed enough to reveal a great shape before you. All the sights and sounds of your ruined home disappeared behind the great shadow. Two wings spread out, shadowing beyond you, far into the corners of your field of vision, and you gasped at the silhouette of the dragon before you.

“Long have I awaited the return of a Dragon Lord. You are the last. The last of the line of glory, of brotherhood and blood ties beyond that of this continent. Frasadu was not a name you came up with, but it has rather always been my name, little one. Together, we are to restore what is broken, to mend the broken reaches of the world. We are destined to be, as your Knight is destined to follow you. Tell them, in the old tongue. As one we once were, and as one we are once again.”

The light receded as quickly as it had appeared and when you could see again you looked at your fingertips touching Frasadu’s chin. The dragon’s orange eyes reflected wisdom of thousands of years, and you smiled as you cradled his chin. With a resolute breath, you turned back to Ushura.

“Ret yue fristra, ret yue gugartha ne.” You told the fae.

“Then as one you must all remain.” She hissed. Her claws unravelled, dropping Sir Dawling from her grasp. The knight landed with a great crash, armour clattering against stone. You tried not to turn, holding the gaze of the Fae as Frasadu puffed his chest out before you, spreading his wings out in a threatening display.

“You must not return here.” You told the Fae, “Sir Dawling is to remain with me.”

Slowly, the Fae disappeared back into the trees, their eyes merging with the shadows as the firelight flickered far from view. You watched them for a moment before rushing to Dawling’s side. The armour laid motionless, laid in dented chunks.

“Please don’t be gone.” You begged quietly as you turned his helmet and desperately tried to place him back together.

There was a groan from somewhere within all the scattered metal and you found a twitching gauntlet in time to hold Sir Dawling’s hand. The metal armour groaned as you took his hand and tears burned in your eyes. You felt the wet drops on your cheeks as Frasadu growled and dragged a crushed greave over by your side.

“I don’t know how to fix this!” You told the hatchling, and the knight who’s head was laid in your lap.

The helmet visor clicked open with a sudden screech of metal. Your tears dripped inside the shell only to see the faint wisps of soul slowly swirling inside. The gauntlet by your feet twitched before it began to float, the dent groaning as the leather gloves stretched. You sobbed as you watched it float, the fingers reaching for you. The tips caressed the apples of your cheeks, slowly shifting downwards before they gave a gentle twitch. The chest plates expanded with a groan.

“Dragon… Lord.” Sir Dawling wheezed, his armour shaking, grinding along the floor as it attempted to fuse back together. You clawed at the pieces, pulling them together as your tears dripped down the once beautifully intricate metal work.

“Can we fix him?” Frasadu rumbled innocently. He sat next to you, his scales against your leg, “His soul is still here.”

“I don’t know how to fix this Dawling…” You wept on the armour with a thundering sob.

“Jurdanus…” Dawling wheezed, “Jurdanus… Dawling.”

“Jurdanus, please, Sir Dawling, I can’t…” You stuttered as you finally placed the rest of the armour together.

The knight gave one final, heaving breath, before the light dimmed behind his visor and the metal went slack against the stone. The fire continued to crackle behind you, dulling the sensation of reality for a moment before you placed your hands on Frasadu wept onto his scales. Sir Jurdanus Dawling didn’t move. The fires crackled as you held Frasadu close, and you looked to the stars in the night sky above. All was quiet, for a moment, before there was a gentle whoosh, like gas being lit. Frasadu grumbled, shifting in your grasp, stretching to look at the armour as a soft blue wisp drifted down towards you both. Amidst the fire you watched the light swift before it formed the shape of a large man. The silhouette drifted closer, and a hand reached to touch your cheek, tracing the same pattern Sir Dawling had drawn.

“Jurdanus?” You asked, hopefully.

The silhouette nodded before spreading its arms and laying backwards. The light disappeared back into the armour. A great whoosh sounded again before the ruined armour before you clanged, shifted, and banged, rumbling violently as it once again took on the perfect shape of a suited knight.

The light behind the visor glowed once more and with a delighted shriek you jumped over Sir Dawling’s hips, delightedly shaking his shoulders as he reached up to steady you by the waist.

“I’m so glad you’re okay!” You wiped the tears from your face, sniffling.

Jurdanus nodded his head and reached to wipe the tears from your cheeks. Tenderly, he cupped your face, and there was a whisper of thanks on the wind, although no voice echoed from within the armour. You smiled and howled with laughter as Jurdanus sat up and dragged you with him, holding you close to his chest as he span through the garden, with Frasadu hot on his heels.

#enchanted armour #monster x reader #enchanted armour x reader #enchanted knight #enchanted knight x reader #reader insert #original work #original works #fantasy writing #fantasy #knight #sir jurdanus dawling #monster boyfriend x reader #fantasy romance #monster boyfriend #monster lover #monster romance

[lavendermunson]

enchanted IV | knight!eddie munson x princess!reader

summary Eddie tried to do the right thing but his heart can’t stop hurting. It’s time for the knight to drop his duties and come for the thing he loves the most.

tags +18, afab!reader, this chapter doesn’t have warnings at all but if you need me to mark something please let me know.

a/n read the note at the end!

wc 2.9k

moodboard | previous chapter | masterlist

After talking to Wayne about the safety of the princess, Eddie returns to his room and looks at himself in the mirror. He feels his hands too light, feeling he is missing something. He is definitely missing something.

He wonders if this is the end. It is, maybe it is. He has to let go of the fire that ignites the chimney on the coldest week of winter and stay at home with the ray of sun that has lightened his face every day in the morning.

It would be stupid to run and see you, it would be so stupidly wrong. But for a moment he thinks, and thinks. There’s a possibility of you running away with him. He can’t predict the future, god, he wishes he could and right now the only thing left is giving up.

He sits in his bed, taking a notebook from under his pillow. The first page has a drawing of his mom, he tugs it close to his heart and as soon as he rests his head in the pillow, a tiny piece of paper peeks from under the leather.

“I wanna be defined by the things that I love. Not the things I hate. Not the things that I'm afraid of. Not the things that haunt me in the middle of the night. I just think that you are what you love.”

He closes his eyes, letting all his feelings flutter inside his body. He misses his mom. He misses being happy. Being, feeling free.

It is time for things to change, he thinks.

It is time I change things.

—

With shaky hands and a pale face, terror conquers Eddie’s body at the sight of your parents. The king and queen.

“It's okay, you got this” he hears Wayne’s voice from their conversation before. Eddie got out of his room, told Wayne everything he felt, every little thing that was on his mind.

It was hard for Wayne to accept that the living reminder of his sister was telling him he was going to leave. He wanted to be mad, but he couldn't. It's what Eddie's mom would've wanted. It's what Eddie should do, fight for love.

Wayne was in love once, he understood completely. He hugged his nephew, he kissed his forehead. He wishes the best to him.

“So… what do you have for us? News?” The king, your father, speaks.

“I… i need to tell you something” Eddie's hands are no longer shaking. “I don't want to be your knight anymore, but don’t get me wrong it was an honor”

The kings, your parents, look at each other and for a moment they know. They know why, they know what’s coming, they've prayed for this.

“It is, it’s fine Eddie. But tell me, why the sudden change of mind?” your mother speaks, her voice is gentle. It surprises Eddie.

“I'm not– I'm not asking for permission. You can stop me, you can try to stop me. I need to go away, I need to get out of here. But I'm not doing it alone, I'm not going out empty handed.

For the first time in my life, I felt seen, I felt loved. Your daughter, I've been obsessed with her my whole life. She never treated me differently, no, how could she? She is the angel of my dreams, she is all I need. Her kindness. Her bravery. Her, she… she has a beautiful way of describing things, of seeing life.

I swallowed my heart for the sake of my kingdom but this is not what I want. I want her. She brought me back to life, I spent less than a lifetime with her and I need her. I need her like lungs need air. She fills me up, she… she makes me feel safe.

So I'm telling you… not asking. I need to go away, she needs to get out of here. I'm getting her out, to give her a happy, free and safe life. Im getting her away from you, and them, and this. To love her, to take care of her, and to make her the happiest girl that’s ever going to exist on this planet.”

His chest hurts, his throat is swollen. He is wondering why they aren’t throwing him in some dungeon.

The queen gets to him, away from her throne. The king follows her.

“Eddie. We are not going to stop you, you’d be doing us a favor” she says, taking Eddie’s hands in hers.

“We can’t stop this, but you can. Get away. Go away. Take care of our little girl” The king speaks, his eyes looking soft.

“We are not going to stop you, but we can’t help you either. You must have a plan by now, you are a smart boy” your mom speaks again, tears filling up her eyes.

“You can go now. Good luck, and thank you for caring about her” your dad speaks, Eddie nods.

This is the last time he is going to see them. He takes a deep breath and walks out.

—

It’s been a dreadful week, a nightmare of a lifetime. Jason’s mom keeps coming into your room, you’ve tried on thirty-seven dresses and still none of them is the right one. How could any dress be the right one, when the husband-to-be isn’t the one you love?

Every minute you spend in that castle, away from your family and waiting for Jason to come and talk to you when you know he is away with a girl somewhere. It feels like that’s all you are going to be. Always a girl trapped in some room, away from the wonders, the adventures.

From the moment Eddie let the other knights take you, your heart has been feeling heavy. The feeling of waking up to an empty bed after the best night of your life was something you couldn’t describe. It was painful.

Someone who is in love with you doesn’t betray you, he doesn’t get to do that to you. And you think, maybe this is what you deserve. To be here. Alone.

–

After getting some food for dinner you go back to your room. A room that’s too empty for your taste. There are no books lying around. No comfortable silk pillowcases. The sheets are rough, the blankets are too cold.

You look out, the tiny window in the room is enough for you to see a part of the woods. The sun is going down, it will disappear in an hour, maybe less.

“Since you don’t want any dress, I will have to give you my own” the queen enters the room, making you jump.

“I can’t. No i can’t take that from you” you shake your head.

“It is settled” she lets the modiste come in to fix the dress, it’s the less you can now.

“I have this. It’s for you… but please don’t tell anyone i gave it to you”

On her hands rest a letter, with a pink wax seal that you would recognize everywhere. Your mom’s.

“My dear, our tulip.

We have been thinking, we have been convinced. This life is not for you, it never was.

Since you were born, we have been the happiest pair. My little girl.

It is time for you to be your own person. To make your own choices. To make good things. To make mistakes.

He is going to take care of you. He is going to do what we couldn’t… He is going to make you happy.

Me, dad. We love you, cherry pie. We will miss you. You are our thoughts.

Love you. Mom.”

Tears pool on your eyes, and you blink twice and look at the paper. Hope gets over you, you spin in your feet with a smile on your face.

Him? Eddie? All of this is too good to be true.

“How did you get this?” you ask the modiste.

“Princess, i'm not a modiste. I'm some sort of a… messenger? Tonight at midnight you need to go down the stairs, through the kitchen and wait on the opposite side of the barn. You know what’s waiting, I won't tell you.”

“Midnight. Got it, thank you” you say.

“Have a safe travel, it was an honor to meet you”

—

A wave of happiness hits you. You rest in bed and tug the letter close to your chest.

The moment you’ve been dreaming for is finally here. Freedom. Love. Him.

You wonder why this couldn’t come sooner, but maybe this was the right time. The right time to be anything you want to be, to start again in a new place. Meet people. Travel. Learn.

And most importantly… be with him. Kiss him. Hug him. You miss his touch. His smell. His fingers over and inside you.

The door opens in a rush, you hide the letter under your pillow. It’s Jason, drunk, filthy, dumb Jason.

“Hello future wife, i am exhausted from just… kissing so many girls” he closes the door and gets in bed with you, pulling you to him. You try to fight back but he doesn’t let you. His arms are heavy on you. “Fuck-fuck night gowns and fuck-fuck-fuck me” he falls asleep quickly, like some sort of miracle.

You look at him, it’s the most peaceful you’ve ever seen him. You wonder why a sweet kid like him could grow up to be a nightmare of a person.

Is this what happens? When greed, money, fame and a high status gets over your head? And you wonder. Is he going to look for you? With violent knights and hundreds of weapons. If he is selfish, dumb and evil. Would you ever be safe?

The clock hits midnight. It’s time to go.

You press your fingers on his arm, delicately breaking free of his grip so he won’t wake up. His arm fell hard on the mattress, your fingers slipped but he didn’t wake up.

He is lost. Dozing.

You run to the door, quietly. Once it’s been open you close it and run towards the kitchen.

A loud sneeze comes from the hallway, you hide in a closet next to the back door. You take a peek from what it looks like to be a keyhole and realize it’s the queen. Jason’s mom.

She makes herself tea. Surprisingly, she is making a tea by herself. The clock above her head marks five minutes past midnight, you cross your fingers hoping she doesn’t take too much time.

–

Eddie’s plan has been working perfectly. Since packing his stuff, some of your stuff he got back from the cabin in the woods. He got a horse ready, fruit and bread for the ride. A map.

He gets close to the back of the barn, leaving the horse a few minutes back so he won’t get caught.

Eddie hears steps coming to the barn. The king, Jason’s dad. He is pacing around looking at the animals, maybe he can’t sleep.

After a few minutes the queen joins the king, Jason’s parents look like villains out of a book. They look old, tired and their faces always have a frown on it.

Eddie starts to play with the rings in his hands. He is anxious. They won’t go away and if you come out the door and find them they will catch you and lock you forever. He has to stop you from coming out.

His steps are fast, but quiet. He looks for another entrance to the castle and runs through the hallway. He looks at the wedding decorations.

The wedding was supposed to happen today, in the morning.

He runs through the castle, hoping no one will see him and after catching a glimpse of your figure he runs towards you. You managed to escape the queen a few seconds ago, making your way to find another exit.

The place looks like a labyrinth, everything is dark. Eddie feels himself running in circles, getting to the same place over and over. He stops to ease his breath, trying to get rid of the fog that clouds his eyes. A body bumps into him, he opens his eyes and takes in your face.

The softness of your lips. The pretty tip of your nose. And when he finally locks his gaze with yours he allows himself to breathe again.

“It’s you” you say, quiet.

“Hi, i’m here to rescue you,” he says, with a grin on his lips.

“That is… very accurate. I was going to make fun of you for that”

“What can I say? call me knight charming”

You push your body towards him, his hands fit right in your waist and pull you to his chest. Your lips met his in a short kiss, it lasts seconds but it takes you to heaven.

“I’m sorry. I have so many things I need to say to you but we have to go. Now” you nod, taking his words in, his hand reaches yours and together you run to find an exit.

–

After what felt like hours of running, you finally make it to Eddie’s horse. He gets “Peanut” ready to leave but panics as he hears footsteps, not too close so you can escape in time but close enough to make him anxious.

“Hurry” he says to you.

“I see them, c’mon!” A drunk Jason walks slowly to you. He is still far away, his steps are clumsy and it’s taking him years to reach you.

“Let’s go, sweetheart” Eddie’s voice sounds muffled, a ring in your ears starts to increase its pitch.

Your heart is beating in your heart so fast, your body is completely frozen.

“I can’t” you look at Eddie, his lips trembling.

“What?”

“I- I didn't say goodbye to my parents. I didn’t hug them one last time i-” you pause, tears run down your cheeks “This, this kingdom. The people, they need me Eddie”

“No! no they don’t. Your mom is, she is going to take care of them. Your dad said they are going to think about you all the time… sweetheart, please. It’s time to go” he reaches for your hands, taking them with a soft touch and squeezing them.

“And the cabin, I need my stuff. My books and my clothes” you look at him, he is worried but he knows you are scared.

“I have some stuff, I have the clothes and blankets you made. The mug and plates you made. Your box of jewelry” he drops your hands by your sides, his soft palms travel to your cheeks and he takes a deep breath. “There’s books everywhere, we can buy more and we can look in every place for them. Please…” he kisses your forehead, hoping it would ground you and assuring you it’s going to be okay. “Please come with me”

You nod, you take his hands away from your face and your heart skips a beat. You get on the horse with him, hugging him from behind and squeezing his body as tears fall down your cheeks again.

As you get far away from the kingdoms, the castles slowly start to disappear. Eddie manages to lose the ones that were following you and starts to focus on the road.

It was hard. Sad.

The two of you were heartbroken.

Leaving people you loved. The place you grew up in. All the memories you’ve left behind.

Eddie told you he managed to sell the cabin to a couple in the kingdom that were tired of the stupid rules and wanted to be free. It was enough to get a tiny house, your jewelry was going to help.

You were going to find jobs and live a happy life. Together.

–

After traveling around for months, you finally found a place to stay. It was a big town, without a kingdom.

There was a mayor, a woman with a strong character but she looked nice.

A sheriff, he looked serious and he was strong.

The two of them welcomed you after buying your house. It was much better than the cabin, nicer than Eddie’s house. You loved it, it was tiny and felt cozy. It felt like a home.

Hours after settling, showering together and sharing some kisses. Your now boyfriend and you walked through town, at the very center of it there was a market.

You bought books, fruit, and some ingredients to cook. Pieces of fabric, silk, old drapes.

In the corner some kids close to a carpet full of miscellaneous stuff.

“How much for the guitar?” Eddie says, taking the guitar in his hands and starting to play a melody. You watch him, his smile looks so good and his eyes are less puffy.

“I will give you a good deal if you teach us how to play the new one we got” A boy with curly hair speaks, as the others watch your boyfriend.

“Deal” Eddie reaches for the boy’s hand and he takes it smiling. “I’m Eddie, this is my princess Y/N”

“I’m Dustin” he shakes his hand “These are my friends, Mike, Lucas, Will, Max and El”

“Nice to meet to guys” you smile, they all look so friendly.

“Are you really a princess?” Max says, getting close to you with El by her side.

“Let’s say… we all are princesses” you smile at them “Right?”

“I love that!” El says, smiling.

You watch the kids laugh and dance as Eddie plays a song on the guitar and sings. Your heart flutters.

You look at each other, words aren’t needed when you know you feel the same. Finally you are free, happy. In a place where you feel like you belong. In a place when you can make your own choices and as your mom said, your own mistakes. But by Eddie’s side it will always be great, things will always be great.

hey! what a ride. this was my first time doing a long fic. i have to apologize for the ending, i tried to wrap up everything and i still feel like i missed some things but i will write them in the future, separately from this long story but in the same universe.

i dropped this story for a long time and i had a lot of plans, unfortunately i didn’t have time to do it and i just keep being unmotivated by the whole thing but i tried my best to come up with an ending instead of abandoning it.

thank you to everyone for your support 🩷 if you want to see more of them or my work tell me!!

tag list + special thanks to: @stephanie-nicks76 @mylovelycrazyworld @enam3l @punkwitchcosplay @eddiesprincess86 @nojamsonmytoast @lunar-corgimon @secretdryrose @findmeincorneliastreet @duncanhillscoffeecups @sagedbelladonna @cherry-pop3547

#leia writes ⊹ ꒱ #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x y/n #knight!eddie x princess!reader #knight!eddie munson #knight!eddie munson x princess!reader #knight!eddie #princess!reader #princess!femreader #eddie munson fantasy au #enchanted series!!

[eraenaa]

Gold Rush

Aemond Targaryen x Lannister Reader

Synopsis: Everybody wants you, and I don’t like a gold rush.

Warnings: Enemies to Lovers, Mutual Pinning, Jealousy ¿Simp Aemond?, Mature, 18+, Oral Sex (F & M receiving), Fingering, P in V sex, Face Sitting, Not Proofread 

Word Count: 7, 912 (I may have overindulged) 

Beauty worth their weight in gold, and it’s the greatest blessing from the gods that you have both. The only child of Lord Lannister. Spoiled and sheltered, you had never known hardships or troubles. Pampered in the halls of Casterly Rock or anywhere you go. You leave a trail of mystification, enchantment, and adoration. Suitors line up and beg to pay you tribute. Songs and sonnets are made just to entertain and encapsulate the beauty and purity you have for centuries to come. Commoners and Lords offer their lands, riches, and allegiance just to have your hand, and now, a certain prince dared to join. 

When the words slipped out of your uncle’s lips that you should join your father in his visit to the capital, the Red Keep was abuzz with curiosity. The Golden Beauty of the realm shall grace their presence. They shall finally see and admire the being that has been coveted and praised for years. Prince Aegon was excited, to say in the least. He has been curious and titillated by your said charms ever since poets decided to write nothing about the allure and trance you placed upon men by just one look of your emerald eyes. His brother found it as a hoax. He frowned at how they exalt your name and praise you as if you were The Maiden Herself when, in reality, they only read or hear of you. He would scoff to himself every time his brother would reread the songs made in your name. He would roll his eye every time he heard gossip and talk about you from the maids and knights. He was certain that this popularity and recognition had only made you egotistical and vain— a judgment made and solidified in him despite not having known or met you. 

When the day of your arrival came, his older brother was the first to greet you, whilst Prince Aemond stood by the window and watched from afar. He frowned upon Aegon’s actions greatly, paying recognition to a girl whilst ignoring his wife, but alas, his brother could not be reasoned to nor be persuaded to do his duty. Aegon was always easily swayed and distracted by a pretty face, and with beauty such as yours, the queen’s first son had turned simple. Aemond rolled his eye as he stood by the balcony, watching his brother tour you through the gardens. Aegon displayed a beaming smile and an odd blush on his face as if he were the maiden and not yourself. You simply kept a small, pleasing grin on your lips as the eldest prince kept on speaking and offering you flattery and compliments, trying to ignore the feeling of a gaze following you ever since you entered the palace walls. 

You set your gaze above, catching the lone lilac eye of a second silver prince. You held his gaze, which showed contempt and agitation you did not know the reason for. When Prince Aegon had noticed your attention had shifted, he cast his eyes above only to see his brother with his brooding demeanor, almost scowling at the two of you. “That is only my bitter brother, Aemond. Pay him no mind, my lady,” Prince Aegon stated and offered his arm for you to take. Your eyes shifted between the two princes, quickly curtsying towards the one who stood above and the took hold of his brother’s arm before he hurriedly escorted you out of sight of the younger prince. 

You were soon introduced to the princess, the wife of the elder prince. The princess’ presence you then favored instead of her husband, who had a gown quite… touchy and clingy. You stood next to the princess, who introduced you to her adorable children, babes tugging at the hem of your gown and pleading with you with their big violet eyes to carry them. Your heart grew soft and took the little Prince Maelor into your arms, smiling widely as the babe clung to your neck and buried his adorable face into your hair. “My son has taken quite a liking to you… he is most fastidious to other’s presence, my lady,” The princess smiled. “He is simply adorable, Your Highness,” You say and brush the silver hair of the babe. “He is… he quite reminds me of my younger brother when we were children,” The princess mused, her voice afar with nostalgia. 

“Have you been introduced?” The princess then asked, “To whom?” You inquired, distracted by the babe who shifted in your arms. “To—Ah, Aemond! We were just talking about you,” the princess then exclaimed, the silver prince standing by the door. You turned your gaze to the prince you had not been introduced to yet formally. “Lady Lannister, my brother, Aemond,” The princess introduced, and you curtsied since more at the one-eyed prince while having his nephew in his arms. You hindered your frown as he said no word, only simply giving a nod and the action of his lips thinning. 

“I was just telling Lady Lannister how much Maelor resembles you when we were younger,” the princess smiled. You turned to the prince, who tried to give his sister a small smile but looked more like a grimace. “The young prince is quite charming,” You smiled and turned to the prince, who stood before you, stiff and brooding. Aemond clenched his jaw as his eye caught yours once more; you are not at all chaste nor demure in the presence of royalty as any young lady should ought to be. You were perfectly comfortable taking a member of the royal family into your arms as if you were equal in rank. Aemond seemed to stand uncorrected with his early judgment of you. 

“She is quite handsome… I always thought the songs they made were an exaggeration, but it seems to not do her justice,” Aemond heard his mother whisper to his sister, quite entranced by your beauty, and it would seem as would everyone present at the dinner table. Princess Helaena generously invited you to their intimate family dinner. His hand clenched around his chalice of wine as his brother shamelessly leaned closer to you and whispered something in your ear to cause a sweet, amused smile to play on your lips. “Are you not bothered by this?” Aemond could not help but as his sister. “About about what, brother?” Helaena asked, clueless and concerned by the agitated state of her younger brother. 

“Lady Lannister, we are most glad that you are finally here to accompany your father,” the queen said, not allowing Aemond to answer his sister’s query. “Thank you, your Majesty. You have all been so welcoming to my presence.” You smiled and could not help but let your gaze travel to the one-eyed prince, whose contempt had been nothing but plain and quite obvious. “Of course, the golden beauty of the realm is most welcome here indeed,” Aegon then chimed in. “But may I ask why it is only now that you join your father to the capitol?” The queen inquired; your gaze flew around the table, eyes expecting your answer, except for the lilac gaze of the younger prince, who stared steely and harshly at his plate. “Oh… it is because my father and uncle wishes for me to be acquainted with the court… for they are planning for me to marry soon, your Grace,” You said truthfully. That is when you feel a lone eye finally place itself upon your frame. 

The queen hummed and looked not at all shocked by your admittance; her children, however, shared different expressions from what you could read. The princess simply nodded with a ghost of a smile on her lips. The prince beside you seemed surprised and, dare you say, disappointed by your purpose of coming. And the prince across from you seemed… you could not decipher his reaction through his hard gaze. 

When morning came, you were pleased to receive an invitation from the princess to join her in the gardens to break your fast. You followed a squire, and you were led to a table surrounded by flowers and greenery, three children of the crown waiting for you. A pleasing princess and her brothers, one stoic, the other drunken. “Good morning, Your Highnesses,” You greeted and bowed, surprised as the young prince stood and matched your curtsy, moving to assist you to assist you to a seat across from him. You try not to over-analyze his actions; just hours before, he seemed disinterested in you— animosity was heavy around him. However, now, there seemed to be an air of civility surrounding him. 

“What are your engagements today, my lady?” Princess Helaena asked as she sipped on her tea, you stirred yours and replied. “My father was planning to introduce me to some of the members of the court,” You say and turn to acquire the last piece of candied lemon. “Some suitors?” The princess asked, her brothers not at all joining in the conversation, merely sitting around the two of you as if they were dolls. “I am not quite certain, princess,” You say and let your gaze travel to Prince Aemond, who stared at the candied lemon on your plate. 

“Do you have a favorite among them?” Prince Aegon then inquired; you frowned at his question. “I beg your pardon?” You asked for clarification. “Does any of your suitors hold great favor with you?” He said and took a chalice into his hand so early in the morning. “I have still yet to meet them, my prince… but I was told that Lord Arryn’s son was quite handsome, and many ladies of the court seem to favor him,” You answered but was turned to the princess, the topic seemingly more appropriate for the two of you. “Ah, yes, handsome Lord Henry,” Princess Helaena said in recognition, “It is true that he is comely. However, I heard he is one to wander,” The princess said delicately. Confusion painted your face once more, and it was the second prince who clarified, 

“Lord Henry is quietly known for his depravity,” Prince Aemond said, making your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Like our brother Aegon,” he added, smirking as that earned a giggle from his sister. “I think it would best if you stay far from the son of Lord Arryn,” The princess said, and you nodded along. 

You spent the day being introduced to Lords and Ladies of the Court, but more specifically, their sons. You felt the constant drone of a gaze following you as you conversed with the prospects of your hand. Their faces seemingly merged, and their names eluded you, so you could only offer them your pleasing smile and mindless small talk and keep your hand on their arm. 

“Do you not have to train, brother?” Helaena then appeared beside Aemond, who was hidden behind a pillar, as he observed you being acquainted with the eligible sons of the court. Helaena held a cheeky smile as she caught his brother’s actions. You had only arrived yesterday, and the princess was already certain that you had caught the attention of her enigmatic brother. It was plain to her the attraction and curiosity Aemond harbored for the golden beauty of the realm, even long before you arrived. Yes, the One-Eyed prince would scoff when his eye would catch anyone reading a pamphlet containing the written songs in your name. Still, Helaena noted that he was the first one to acquire the said pamphlets, religiously reading them until Aegon caught wind of a lioness whose beauty was hidden in Casterly Rock. As a result, the one-eyed prince hindered himself from admitting that he and his brother were attracted to the same girl. Yes, the One-Eyed prince would roll his eye in annoyance whenever he heard gossip about you in the halls, yet he still stayed and listened to all of them. 

“Should you not be joining the line of her suitors?” Helaena teased, amused by the way her brother’s nostrils flared and his jaw clenched. Helaena waited for his reply, but none came. It was a rare occurrence for Aemond to not find words. “I shall see you at supper, sister,” Aemond gritted and walked off, leaving Princess Helaena amused and with new ammunition to lovingly tease her brother. 

Supper came, and to Aemond’s displeasure or satisfaction, you were there. Seated next to his sister, whispering and giggling as if you were the oldest friends when, in reality, you had only waltzed into their life just the other day. He supposed that he should find joy that his sister had finally befriended someone, but must it be you? 

Must it be you who had to join them in supper and be in his constant presence? Seducing and tempting him even though you merely just sat there— making him question himself and his honor as he watched wine stain your lush lips or the way you would let out a low moan at the taste of the pie placed on your plate. You were too much of a temptation, a trial sent by the gods to test his patience and honor, in which he was seemingly failing, for all he wanted to do earlier was cut all the suitors who dared touch you and now taste the wine on your lips. 

When supper had come to an end, Aemond was quick to stand and had a great wish to retire to his rooms, but his mother had different plans. “Aemond, will you escort Lady Lannister to her quarters? A young lady cannot be left alone in the halls at such an hour,” You turned your expecting gaze to the prince, watching as his jaw ticked and his tense form turned rigged. It was alarmingly clear that he had no wish to extend such generosity to you, but still, he obliged his mother and offered his leather-clad arm for you to take. 

You walked out of the dining hall in exchange for the corridor. Tense, suffocating air surrounds you and the second-born prince, whose reluctance was nothing short of obvious. You tried to make polite conversation with him as he walked with you through the never-ending, dimly lit halls of the Red Keep, but his replies were only a nod and a grunt. When you reached the door of your chambers, you let go of the prince’s arm, pride wounded as you were completely ignored and could feel unaccounted animosity towards you. “Good night, Your Highness,” You drawled, growing annoyed by the moment but still had the respectability to lowly curtsy before the prince. 

Aemond gulped as you curtsied before him once again, giving him a heavenly sight of your bosom that made him stiffen in his spot. He knew that your actions were a sign of respect; he should take it as a compliment that you had bowed before him lowly, but every time you did so, all you did was tempt him more. You were shameless as you fashioned a dress with such a neckline, giving every man a sight for their desires to only fester. Now he knew why every man who had encountered you had been left entranced and obsessed; you were a vixen, a true lioness. 

Days passed as you stayed in the Red Keep, and you could feel the constant and growing animosity and disapproval Prince Aemond held for you. You had no idea the reason for it; you could not recall what you had done for him to grow so callous and mean towards you. You would hear his scoffs of derision whenever someone paid you a compliment, and he was within earshot to hear it. You would catch him as he would roll his unique lilac eye whenever you spoke or offered your opinion or even when you laughed. It was such a shame that such a handsome and attractive prince was so vile and rude. You were growing impatient and irritated with him. On any other occasion, your course of action will be to avoid and not put yourself in situations that would require you to be near the prince, but somehow, the gods were cruel and had twisted fate to have you in each other’s presence constantly. 

When night finally came and offered respite from the bitter prince, you sighed in your chambers and tried to find a reason for his contempt towards you. It was an odd feeling you did not wish to fester; all your life, everyone you met was quick to grow fond of you. You were quick to leave them enchanted by your beauty and charms. You named it as your greatest gift— your greatest power was how well beloved you are by anyone… how you could wrap them around your pretty little fingers, which is why the prince’s dislike for you had left you entirely unnerved and bothered. You were growing scared that perhaps your charms were slipping and soon, all too, would feel the same animosity the prince harbors for you. You could not find rest that night, fear trickling into your system. The prince had unraveled your deepest fears with just his quiet distaste.  

You step out of your guest chambers and threaded the halls of the Red Keep, walking the darkened halls and trying to find distraction in the library. You walked straight and paid no mind if any soul was in the library because you were certain that no one else would be present at this hour. You were mistaken. 

Prince Aemond frowned to himself, thinking his mind had placed a trick upon him. The image of you haunted him even in the dead of night when he thought he could finally escape your beautiful torment. But as he heard books being retrieved from shelves and the way your scent wafted to where he sat, he grew aware that the image he saw was no apparition. You were there, with him, alone in the quiet room. 

Aemond took quiet steps towards you, the moonlight bathing you in its light. Your frame aglow, making you look more ethereal as the silver light lights your golden mane. Aemond clenched his jaw as the same prominent desire for you only bloomed tenfold. “You should not be here,” He gritted, standing at arm’s length. It was concerning that he was standing at such a close proximity and you have yet to notice. It only solidified his theory that you were so enveloped in only yourself that you care not about the world around you. Aemond bit his tongue as an amused smirk threatened to escape to his lips. You jumped in your spot and turned to him wide-eyed in fear. He had never seen a lion frightened. 

“My prince… I— I apologize, I did not know that the libraries are restricted at these hours,” You said and closed the book in your hand. “It is not,” comes the reply of the prince, making a frown of confusion paint your face. You turned your entire frame towards him, peering up at the prince who looked at you with nothing but resentment in his cold lilac eye. “Then why shouldn’t I be here?” You asked with a tilt of your head.“You should be in your chambers.” Aemond gritted and removed his gaze from you because looking at you illuminated by the moonlight made him feel too much. He stepped back, but you matched his actions and stepped forward. He took a step back again, and you only mimicked his steps. It was an odd scene, a dragon being toyed by a lioness. 

Watching Prince Aemond’s nostrils flare and his jaw tick again made you smirk, as he was clearly annoyed by your presence. “You do not like me,” you suddenly announced, making his shielded gaze cast itself upon your eyes again. “You do not know me, yet you do not like me… why is that?” You asked and stepped forward once again, leaving just a sliver of space between you and the prince. Aemond gulped thickly as you were just a breath away from him. Your scent evading his senses, your enchanting eyes assessing his every move. 

“Oh, I know you,” He spat but felt his knees weaken when you raised your brow, painting a fake confused look on your pretty face. Siren eyes mockingly turned into doe ones, and plump lips parted in fictitious shock. “You do?” You asked. “You know me? I apologize, my prince, but I do not recall our first encounter. Please, tell me how you know me,” you rolled your eyes and finally let your annoyance slip, for you had enough of the prince’s judgment. The prince and you stared each other down, him not finding words as you had your expressive, scathing gaze upon him. He did not know how to handle himself— he was always silver-tongued and quick-witted, never one to be speechless, but apparently, that changed when it came to you. When pitted against you, he felt like the quiet, dragon-less little boy he once was. His raging fire weakened and turned to mere flickers. 

You scoffed and shook your head, not wavering or stepping away from the prince, ready to retire back to your room, but he took hold of your arm and pulled you even closer to him. “I know you. You’re a spoiled… vain… flirtatious little brat,” He spat, and watching your eyes widen and fill with offense brought back Aemond’s confidence, and he once again gained his silver tongue and towering, imposing demeanor. He watched as your cheeks flushed and wondered how it would feel to touch them. Would it be as hot as the fire that burned in his veins? 

“My father and uncle used to always speak highly about you… about how cavalier, genteel, and dutiful the second prince of the realm was— it is disheartening to be faced with a mean, calloused boy who had shown me nothing but animosity since I’ve arrived— animosity which I do not understand the reason of!” You retaliated and pried his hold off you, Aemond trying not to grow amused as you said the words with a stomp of your foot as if you were throwing a tantrum. “You want to know the reason?” Aemond hummed as you glared at him. “Yes.” You said and crossed your arms across your chest. Aemond caught the action and reminded himself not to let his eye linger upon the deep live between your bosom. He was certain you did that on purpose. You were calculated; you did each of your actions, knowing fully well that it would elicit a reaction from those around you that would only selfishly serve you and your vanity. 

He could see it in how you interacted with the lords and other men, flashing your coy smile, batting your eyelashes, and seducing them with just a mere movement from your graceful frame. He could see it in how you toyed with Aegon, letting him whisper things to your ear, leaning in closer when the older prince spoke, and laughing at whatever meaningless word came out of the prince’s wine-smelling mouth. And you did it with him as well, the way your eye would hold his gaze, seeking him out during dinner and distracting him whilst in training. You were a shameless flirt. Someone who craved attention, and everyone seemed to be grateful to give you what you sought— except Aemond.

“Because you are a flirt— a tease. You toy with men because you were gifted with beauty,” Aemond seethed and that only brought a deep furrow on your brows. “I am no such thing!” You defended yourself, and the prince only scoffed and rolled his eyes. “You are. It is plain. You have them wrapped around your fingers— you know how easily an attractive face persuades them,” the prince said but frowned as he saw your lips twitch upward. As if his words and insults were a jest. “Tell me, my prince… do you agree with their sentiments? Do you find me attractive as well?” You asked and tilted your head, smirking to yourself as the dragon’s fire stuttered and backed away once more. It was a battle, each opponent taking their hits and reloading in time just to fight with the other again. 

The prince gulped and felt heat rise to the tips of his ear; luckily, the reddening flesh was covered by the curtain of his silver locks. “I— I don’t,” He said and stood his ground, forcing his voice to be steady and scathing though he told a plain lie. “I do not find you attractive,” He said more firmly and slightly more convincing this time. “You don’t?” You asked and watched as he curtly nodded and thinned his lips. “That is good,” you mused and backed away from the little space you had given him. The prince’s brow twitched as you said your sentiment, as he heard relief from your voice. “Why is that?” He curiously asked his turn to step closer to you. 

“Because your mother had proposed to my father that a union between us would be well suited; well suited to whom I do not know, but that is what she had proposed. Telling my father that she had needed to bring the subject to you to see if you agreed.” It was a nice scene to see the prince’s whole body turn to stone in shock. His thin lips parted, and his eyes held cluelessness and disbelief. You took the moment of silence from the prince to speak once more. “Well, it is most fortunate that you clearly don’t agree— it would save me from having to be in the presence of such a… prejudiced and bitter prince.” You relished the way you caught his hand clenched around nothing and the way you were certain he was ready to turn violent by your words. However, you still continued to speak.  

“Though the title of princess is quite tempting, and I am certain I’d look exquisite with a tiara— I’d rather run off with the stable boy and live in squalor than live in a place with you.” You finished with a satisfied smirk on your lips at the murderous look on the prince’s face. When his lips parted and tried to speak, he flailed on what to say. That only added to your triumph. “Good night, my prince, Aemond,” You said in a sickly, sweet tone and lowly curtsied again before walking your way back to your chambers. 

It should greatly shame the prince. His actions would haunt him for moons to come, but the moment you exited the library, and he was once again left alone, he succumbed to his desires and undid the laces of his trousers. Pulling his painfully hardened length and pleasured himself with the thought of you. Your scent still hung in the air, and your voice still rang in his ear, but what pushed him over the edge was the image of you curtsying, almost going to your knees before him. His mind was made then. Whatever act he had portrayed the past few days will quickly come to an end for he shall certainly agree with his mother that a union between him and you would be most suited. 

You sat in disbelief and utter confusion as your father announced to you that a union between you and the prince shall take place. “Why? Wh— did the queen ask his thoughts on this? Or was it just your and Her Majesty’s decision?” You questioned as you recalled the night in the library with the prince. It had only been two days since the heated and angered scene transpired, and you had done your best to avoid him and his raging lilac gaze. “The prince came to me and asked for your hand. And given the conversation I had with the queen, I assumed that his proposal has her blessing.” Your lips agape, and you try to work out your objections, but your father cupped your cheeks. “You, my darling, will be a princess just like you had always dreamed of.” He said softly, recalling how you ran the halls of Casterly Rock with a tiara atop of your head when you were younger— always begging your septa to tell you stories of princesses and their princes finding 'happily ever after.’

“I shall leave you to get ready— it will be announced to the court later today, and the wedding shall take place in a week’s time.” He announced, making you stand in utter surprise. “What?! Father— Why so soon?” You asked in disbelief. “The queen wishes his son to be married before the king meets his demise. He wishes for the king to witness Aemond joyously with his bride,” You were stunned and were certain that joy would not appear from a union between you and Aemond, making the Queen’s wishes moot. “Now, make haste as you shall be presented with your betrothed!” Your father smiled and kissed the top of your head, and hurriedly left the guest chambers. 

Aemond observed as your proud gaze was planted on the floor as they announced the upcoming union between the two of you. He was certain that news had left you in quite a state of confusion. The prince passed his eye at the sea of people, mostly on the men who had lined up for years and courted you, only to witness that the beauty they coveted was then promised to the dragon prince. Aemond’s look turned to his brother, whose jealous gaze was upon him, and Aemond couldn’t help but smirk. He then returned his gaze to you again, finally having looked up and locked your eyes upon him. Nothing but confusion in your orbs, and perhaps anger that Aemond simply found endearing. 

“I do not understand.” You gritted as you and Aemond were given a chance of privacy to get to know more about each other before the wedding. You two were in the room of the small council, the queen, your father, and the lord commander standing by the other side of the door lost in discussion as you and your betrothed were about to thread towards an argument. “You and I shall marry each other; what is so hard to understand?” The prince retorted. “I suppose the saying is true… the more comely the woman is, the more she is simple,” Aemond quickly added, grinning at how quickly you were to grow red in rage. Your cheeks match the scarlet of your gown. 

“Why, in the name of the seven, would you agree to this?! You and I are not suited for each other!” you whispered harshly, not wanting your parents to hear you quarrel. "And what makes you think so?” The prince hummed, stepping closer to you, tightening in his trousers once more as your plump lips were agape. “I haven’t had a civil conversation with you. All our interactions have been arguments— do you truly think that a marriage between us would work?” You asked incredulously, mind spinning at how abrupt, incomprehensible, and inexplicable the fates were. “You wish for a civil conversation? Let us have one then,” he simply replied and took a seat in one of the chairs housed in the long table separating the two of you.

You took in deep breaths and studied as he sat calmly, his hands placed atop the wooden table. You eventually took the seat across from him. “Why did you agree to this union?” You asked, your mind still replaying the scene in which he stated plainly that he dislikes you greatly. “Because I am in need of a wife,” he answered. You licked your lips and shook your head. “Why me, then? When you are perfectly aware of our shared… distaste for one another,” You said and watched as the prince shrugged. “Because…” the prince trailed, licking his lips as he was certain you would not believe what he would utter because he himself would find it hard to believe as well at how he had treated you since you had come. “I want you.” He finally said after a long moment of steely silence. The prince clenched his jaw as he heard you scoff, and a sardonic, melodious laugh soon followed. “You want me?” You asked, “What? You want to punish me? Make me miserable with a union with a man who hates me?” You added. “I do not hate you,” the prince sighed and rolled his eye as you stubbornly shook your head. 

“Ever since I have arrived all you had done was glare at me, pick quarrels and squabbles. You had offended me right to my face, and now you say want me?” You asked incredulously. “They say Targaryens are mad… but I had hoped your mother’s blood had leveled your and your sibling's heads.” You mumbled and did not expect to see an amused look on the prince’s face. A beat of silence surrounded the two of you, staring each other down. A lioness with a confused scowl on her face, and a dragon who had amusement and content on his. “I still do not understand,” You said, and the Prince sighed once more.

“It was all an act,” he sighed. My animosity towards you—all of it was an act. A facade to protect me because when I saw how you interacted with the other prospects for your hand… how obliging you were with them, I could not stomach the fact that you would not be mine,” he admitted, letting himself be vulnerable for the first time in years. I… I do not like sharing,” he then added. 

“I was five and ten when I read the first poem written for you,” he started. “I have not seen you… I have not a clue of who you were except that you were Ser Tyland’s kin, and you were of great beauty as they have written, and you already managed to make me grow curious,” You stayed silent as the prince continued on to explain. “I waited every week for new poems to be published… the songs in your name still did not receive much recognition— you were still unheard of by the others. I was certain I was the only one who bought those pamphlets; you were a secret for me alone.” You nodded along and rested your back against the chair, observing the prince intently as he spoke. “Aegon found the pamphlets and began to grow curious too… along with the entire kingdom, and I just did not enjoy the thought that I have to share the desire to know you— to be with you with other men,” He finished, and you bit your tongue as you did not know how to take the prince’s explanation. Was it flattering or puzzling? You had no clue. All you knew was your heart was beating loudly in your chest and your stomach was filled with butterflies. 

“My uncle often shared stories of you and your siblings…” You spoke, your turn to share an anecdote. “As a child, I have always been enthralled by the idea of royalty. So he would oblige me and tell me stories of the Dragon Princes.” Aemond nodded along as your eyes were cast upon the wooden table. “He would always go into great detail about your brother, Aegon… seeing he will be king, but I was always more curious about you,” You admitted. “But he said you always kept to yourself, so he could not truly tell me stories about you, so I would make him repeat the anecdotes already told time and time again. On how kind you were with your sister and how dutiful you were to your mother… how you were brave and determined— ceaselessly training with the sword even if you had lost your eye. And if you were not training, you were adding to your scholarly knowledge.” You turned your gaze to the Prince’s exceptionally beautiful lilac eye, “I have been fond of you long before I have met you, my prince. Ask my father and uncle… or anyone in Casterly Rock, for that matter,” You said truthfully, watching as Aemond’s lips twitch into a smile

“I would admit; I came here with the hopes of getting to know you… that perhaps a match between us would fall organically and not one that our father and mother made.” You said and fisted the fabric of your scarlet gown as your heart beat loudly at your admittance. The prince licked his lips, “Should it matter how this union was made?” He asked, “Either way, in the end, we’ll still get what we both want,” Aemond stated, his whole being satisfied as he was not the only one who pinned over a person he was still yet to meet. “I suppose not,” you smiled as your impending nuptials with a prince you had dreamed of since you were a child was to come. The door then swung open, revealing your father along with the Queen.“I hope the both of you had gotten the chance to grow more acquainted with each other,” The queen smiled, already excited with the prospect of your marriage and for you to be her daughter. You were most fitting to their family; not only will her son gain an incredibly charming and comely wife, but her daughter too will gain a friend. 

“We have, your grace,” You said with a small smile. She gave a pleased nod, and her smile widened, “That is good. Come with me, child. Plans have to be made, and you still have yet to be fitted for your gown!” She said and held out her hand for you to take. You stood and turned briefly to your betrothed; you once again curtsied before him. Now, a smile intended for him was placed on your pink lips, and Aemond’s longing gaze followed you as you walked out of the room with his mother. 

The day of your wedding was quick to come, and you felt entirely giddy and excited about marrying Prince Aemond. Your father escorted you down the aisle, the eyes of the kingdom following you as you gracefully walked to your soon-husband, who had a rare smile on his lips. When your father gave your hand for the prince to take, you felt gooseflesh scatter throughout your entire body. Aemond looked at you adoringly throughout the entirety of the ceremony, not at all paying attention to the Maester who blessed your union. 

Aemond was entirely impatient for him to announce you as his wife and for him to finally be able to kiss your lips. To mark you as his in front of the gods and the entire kingdom. And when that moment finally came, the desire that burned brightly inside the both of you only grew. Aemond was not one to show affection publicly, but he could not hinder himself as he cupped your cheeks to deepen your kiss that was witnessed by all present in the hall. Their screams and cheers faded and turned mute as both of your lips intertwined. 

Suppressed desires could not be contained any longer as you and Aemond had finally had a taste of each other. There was supposed to be a banquet to celebrate your union; the Queen had organized the feast to perfection, and your father spared no expense for the celebration. But it was unfortunately missed by you and your husband as Aemond quickly led you to your shared bed chambers, both of you unable to wait for nightfall to be in each other’s arms. 

“Aemond,” You mewled as he pushed you up against the stone pillar in your chambers. His lips kissed your neck, leaving his mark with every kiss, and his hands quickly untied the laces of your gown. You hear him growl as you boldly move your hand to cup his hardened length against his trousers, hesitant as you move your hand. “We should be in the feast,” You said but made no move to halt your pleasurable actions. Aemond shook his head, “Do you want to attend the feast, or do you want to be pleasured, wife?” He asked and watched with dark eyes as the sleeves of your dress draped down your arm and revealed more of your milky skin. “I want you, husband.” You breathed, and Aemond let out a pleasurable sound as your hold on his length tightened. 

“Kneel,” Aemond gritted, and your eyes widened at his command. “Kneel and show your devotion to your lord husband,” Aemond demanded and clenched his jaw as you did as he asked, slowly going to your knees, your eyes still locked upon him. You licked your lips as you were eye-leveled with his bulging length, “Take it out,” Aemond commanded and tightly closed his eye as you did the action, your skin finally touching his. You bit your lip at his massiveness, at how well-endowed he was and how beautiful he fully was. You swallowed thickly as you recalled the books you had read in the dead of night, detailing how man and woman should be. 

Aemond let out a strained sound as you placed a ghost of a kiss upon the tip of his cock, your name spewing from his lips as you peppered light kisses along his length. “Stop being a tease, little wife,” he gritted and felt his stomach tighten at the smirk on your lips and the view of you kneeling before him. Your dress had dropped lowly, and he could see most of your bosom that had been tempting him for days on end. 

You let out a breath and to him to your mouth. You half expected yourself to be repulsed, but with each moment you had his length between your lips, bobbing your head, sucking harshly, hearing the moans your husband spewed, and looking at his pleasured etched face, you felt your cunt drip with want and anticipation. Aemond groaned louder as you fondled his other parts, thanking the gods for blessing him with you as his wife. Thanking them for their favor to let him be bound to the Golden Beauty of the realm. The prince breathed in harshly as the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat, the need for release in him loudly pronouncing itself, making him abruptly pull out. He could not be so selfish and let himself succumb to pleasure whilst you were still filled with need. 

Aemond pulled you to stand, fervently meeting your lips once more, and guided you to bed. Your dress finally fell, and Aemond greedily took one of your tit into the hot cavern of his mouth. He bit the bud and elicited a sweet whine from your lips, and he quickly soothed it with his tongue and felt you clung to him tighter. Taking his other hand and guided it to you other needing tit to pleasure it as well. Aemond smirked upon your bosom at how in need you were of him. Aemond moved his lips to your neglected tit, and his hand trailed down south, your eyes rolling back and your hands fisting the back of his head as you finally felt his cold hands upon your needing heat. 

“So desperate for me, little wife,” Aemond hummed in satisfaction. Your moans echoed throughout the chambers, along with the sound of your wetness as Aemond slipped his finger in you, his thumb circling the pearl of your cunt, earning more of your sweet moans. Aemond moved to kiss your lips again, feeling how tightly your cunt clenched around his finger. You parted your lips as you felt climax nearing, your wide, lusted eyes locked in with your husbands, but before you could even succumb to ultimate pleasure, Aemond stole away his finger. “Aemond,” You whined, but your husband only smirked and pecked your lips. Making you watch as he brought his coated fingers to his lips and sucked the essence of you clean. 

Your mind was dazed and frustrated as he denied you pleasure. Your eyes followed him as he removed his tunic and lay nakedly on the silk sheets of your feathered bed. “Come here,” He ordered, and you hesitated for a moment. You took your bottom lip between your lips and did as told, moving to straddle him as he lay. His hands found home on your hips, urging you to move forward, and you furrowed your brows in confusion as your core threaded farther away from his length. “Aemond, I—“ Words were lost as the prince’s lips were met with your cunt. His hands forcing you down upon his face. Your head tilted back in pleasure as you rolled your hips upon his face, his prominent nose perfectly aligned with your nubbin and his tongue darting in and out of your tightness. 

“Aemond,” You cried as your thighs were quick to shiver; release was finding you once more. “Aemond… Aemond…” You uttered his name like a prayer. With one flick of his tongue, you came undone, your moans ringing loudly that you were certain that it was heard in the halls but could not find care. Aemond had a slight smirk as he moved you closer to his length. Your eyes were still glazed from your climax, and your mind was so disoriented that you did not even realize that Aemond had positioned his length at your entrance. The sharp pain of your maidenhead being taken was the only indication you had that you had now sunk upon his cock. 

Aemond relished at the sight of you atop of him, your cunt taking and squeezing his cock. Your breast was heaving, and your eyes were welling with tears. Aemond reached out and took your bosom into his calloused hands, kneading the taut, soft flesh— earning a pleasured moan through your pain. Aemond gave you the liberty to move whenever you felt comfortable doing so. He was an impatient man, but he savored every small movement you made as you clenched along his cock. 

Your furrowed brows dissipated, and your mouth parted as the tip of cock perfectly hit the spot inside of you that made you see stars. Aemond’s breathing labored as you rolled your hips, seeking further friction. He moved his cold hands to your hips and guided you to bounce upon his cock. “Aemond!” You cried, and Aemond could only marvel at your pleasured face and bouncing tits; you squeezed him so tightly that slight pain mixed with his delight. “Are you going to come, my wife? Will you come at your husband’s cock?” Aemond hummed and sat up, placing his head between your ample breasts, greedily inhaling your scent. “Yes… gods, yes!” You cried as he harshly thrust inside you. Both of you meet your peak, Aemond spilling his seed deep inside your cunt and you clawing at his bare back and leaving your own marks. 

“My wife,” Aemond hummed in satisfaction and nuzzled his nose against yours, a smile on your lips as your foreheads pressed as the cheers from the feast that you two disregarded were lowly heard in your chambers, “My prince,” You smiled and kissed his lips, your heart full. Your being wholly satisfied as you were bound to the prince that your young heart had wanted long before. 

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[arkhammaid]

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ THIGH RIDING.

fandom. honkai star rail

pairing. argenti, blade, dan heng, gepard, jing yuan, seele x gn!reader

content warnings. nsfw, MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI, thigh riding, not edited/proofread

word count .0.7k

notes. for my favorite whores and our obession with thighs <3 edit: welt does not have a part in this fic!! i copy pasted this whole text above with infos abt the fic from another one and forgot to delete his name, very sorry :(

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ argenti.

to argenti, beauty was elegance, close to perfection. this is what he aspired to be, a knight touched and blessed by the gods themselves— just not in warfare. but seeing you like this, the first time, messy and whiny on his lap, your skin flushed and eyes shiny with tears refusing to roll down your cheeks— it’s truly mind blowing. he’s enchanted, the way you move your hips, grind yourself hard on his thigh and hearing the whimpers that escape your lips. you’re a mess but you’re still oh so beautiful. 

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ blade.

he knows how much you enjoy riding his thighs. he knows it and he will use it against you, finding amusement in your eyes focusing on the garter belts he likes to put on, when you really should focus on something else. he will tease you for hours, not coming near you and making sure you don’t get any wrong ideas. when he finally thinks the torture is enough and you deserve some mercy, he will haul you towards the bedroom and place you on his thigh. and even then, when you’re slowly but surely loosing your mind, he doesn’t help you. instead he leans back and watches you with half lidded eyes, how you whine and pant on his lap. 

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ dan heng.

dan heng simply enjoys thigh riding because you find pleasure in it. he was first confused, why you wanted to ride his thighs, when he had a dick you could ride so much better, but then were clinging onto him, calling out his name while you chased your orgasm. and he could only hold your hips, utterly enchanted by every noise and movement you did, watching how you came undone on his thigh. and you? you love sitting on his lap, a thigh between your legs and grinding on his muscles, chasing your peak with frantic moving hips, all while he murmured low praise in your ears, eager to see you shake in his arms. 

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ gepard.

gepard is always the more flushed between the both of you when you ride him, be it his dick or his thighs. but there is something different when you make a mess of yourself and drag him with you, his uniform soiled and wrinkled, just because you’ve been riding his thighs until you were shaking in his arms. it overwhelms him every time, your moans and high pitched whines filling his ears and fogging his mind, your whimpers making him lightheaded— even when it’s you, who always comes undone on his lap, it’s him that ends up as a complete mess. 

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ jing yuan.

jing yuan thinks it’s amusing, the way you’re so fixated on his thighs. be it in his uniform or out of duty clothes, you always try to find a way to admire them. and your enthusiasm, when he asks you if you want to ride his thigh, only confirms it to him. you ride them as if it’s his dick, hips frantic while you grip his shoulders, head thrown back while moans escape out of your mouth oh so shamelessly. it’s amusing to him, to see how fast and hard you can cum by simply riding his thighs— sometimes even harder when you’re in the office and you’re ruining his pristine uniform. and he loves to share his amusement with you, teasing words making you shudder while you plead for him to stop and do so much more— oh how he loves it when you come undone.

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ seele.

seele knows about the enjoyment thigh riding can bring, but she can’t lie, she prefers you to be the one doing the riding. the feeling of your legs around hers, your arousal wetting her muscles and helping you to glide over her skin smoothly— all these sensations, paired with your oh so pretty moans and whines, it’s truly heaven for her. to see you so messy is akin to seeing you free, free with your desires and passions, for her eyes only. and to see you above her, gasping for air while your whole body shudders, is one of many fantasies she can witness as much as she wants. 

ARKHAM MAID 2023

#argenti x reader #blade x reader #dan heng x reader #gepard x reader #jing yuan x reader #seele x reader #argenti smut #blade smut #dan heng smut #gepard smut #jing yuan smut #seele smut #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail smut #— ˚₊‧⁺˖ creations #after dark <3

[alexlwrites]

𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐃𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐬

✿𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: OT7 x Plus Size! Reader

✿ 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: "What was so outrageous about someone like you, you asked yourself and the universe. You had tried your best to compensate for any shortcomings with everything else that was expected of you: femininity, understanding, a sense of humor. Never enough, those were never even the first thing that came to mind when people thought of you.

Why bother then? If nothing you did made any difference at all, why try? If people hated your body just for existing, why not give them a reason to hate your personality as well?"

OR  

The one where seven campus princes who are used to getting everything they wanted get enchanted by your distrust and brattiness, climbing over each other to get a smile from you who could not be bothered to give them a single second of your day.

✿ 𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒔:  Romance, Humor, Fluff, Angst, College AU

✿ 𝑨/𝑵: I wanna leave this here as sort of a trigger warning: this work features a plus size main character and throughout the story there will be mean comments from characters about her body and her journey dealing with said comments. A lot of it comes from my own experience as a plus size girl myself and my path to living peacefully within my body. And although this work is about Y/N's relationship with the boys, I like to think that she still would've continued to grow and blossom happily on her own. Let this be something you learn from this fic, as I say right on the first chapter: You don't have to love the way you look right away, you just can't let it stop you from doing the things you want and, in a greater scale, from being happy and treated with respect.

Thank you for reading <3

P.S: Red daisies, like many red flowers, represent love and romance. Florists often use them to communicate affection to someone who doesn’t know how beautiful they are—a.k.a. beauty unknown to the possessor. 

(Fanfic masterlist)

(support me on my ko-fi)

°•. ✿ .•°

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞: 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭

The pattern in your relationships - if you could call them that - was tiring, to say the least. Once, they might have been soul crushing, but time and repetition took away the novelty of your pain and now the endgame was a mild, resented disappointment.

It started with kindness and a gentle smile, mainly from your part. You treated anyone who gave you any smidgen of attention with the utmost sweetness, hoping your energy would be matched. And sometimes it was, for a while. Sometimes you got to be on the receiving end of a blinding smile or a casual touch and you allowed yourself to hope - no, pray -that that could be it. That someone, some modern day knight in shiny armor , saw through your looks and decided that you were deserving of love, despite societal norms,

But men had a way of setting you up for disappointment. A talent, truly.

You were tired, you decided that night. No, beyond that, you were exhausted, scarred, bitter, hopeless, resentful… You could keep going. You could list every bad feeling you had been carrying in your chest by alphabetical order or by how badly they hurt and honestly you just wanted it to stop.

Would you have to change everything about your body to be happy, you wondered watching the boy you had been seeing for a few weeks make fun of you in front of his circle of friends at the party you were both at. Would you never be allowed to be happy just the way you were?

Would you have to change everything about your body to be happy?

“Yeah, she’s nice” Junsuu said, winking suggestively at his giggling friends “if you know what I mean.” you felt your face heat up in humiliation at the renewed round of laughter “But we just don’t match, like, physically. You know, looks-wise.”

“Right” someone agreed way too enthusiastically, sending a spear through your heart “I really just can’t see you with someone like her.”

What was so outrageous about someone like you, you asked yourself and the universe. You had tried your best to compensate for any shortcomings with everything else that was expected of you: femininity, understanding, a sense of humor. Never enough, those were never even the first thing that came to mind when people thought of you.

Why bother then? If nothing you did made any difference at all, why try? If people hated your body just for existing, why not give them a reason to hate your personality as well?

“You’re right” you said out loud, drawing attention to yourself. Filled with hatred (for him, the world, the circumstances), your heart had no room to be mortified when all eyes turned to you “we don’t match.”

You watched as Junsuu’s eyes widened, clearly not expecting you to hear, much less reply “I am a big girl” you continued, words dripping with rage “And I know for a fact that there’s nothing big about you.”

You turned around to leave the room, cringing at the petty comeback, ignoring the murmurs and Junsuu’s panicked calls of your name. Walking fast, you fled the scene of the last heartbreak you would allow yourself to go through, deciding that a change was needed, but not the change everyone wanted from  you.

Despite the rumors, you didn’t turn into a huge bitch overnight, didn’t start kicking puppies or spitting on the poor. Truly, the only thing you did was establish boundaries and reevaluate the amount of respect some people deserved, but very quickly people started seeing you as some sort of villain, especially when they realized how little you cared for how they saw you. How disrespectful of you to not allow yourself to be disrespected, right?

At first, there was still an air of uncertainty about you - years and years of non-reciprocal niceties drilled into your brain, habits hard to quit. But the more you let go of those things, these tiny acts of self-aggression disguised as pleasantries and altruism, the lighter you felt; Your days became easier to get through, existing within your body felt less and less like a punishment. You had yet to reach an Instagram-worthy level of body positivity, but you had become accustomed to body neutrality. You didn’t have to love the way you looked right away, you just couldn’t let it stop you from doing the things you wanted and, in a greater scale, from being happy and treated with respect.

And respect you started to demand and much happier you became, living in relative peace and solitude - safe by a few close friends - up until your days started being pestered by seven headaches you could not seem to shake away.

—-

Jungkook was the one that saw you first.

It was 3 weeks into the semester and he finally decided it was the perfect time to start going to classes, sitting in the back and only listening to about 25% of what was being said, mind floating towards more important subjects such as the package of ramen waiting for him at home. Only mildly interested in what the professor had to teach, he couldn’t help but to be startled when everyone started getting up from their seats to shuffle around the room. “What’s going on?” he asked the guy sitting next to him.

“Professor gave us a duo assignment.” the other man said, standing up “You're with Y/N.”

“Who?”

The guy just pointed towards you with his chin, redirecting Jungkook’s attention before leaving. You were sitting a couple rows further down, hunched over your little green IPad as you wrote something with impressive velocity. Jungkook walked over to you, already mentally going over what he would have to do to charm you into doing everything on your own “Y/N?” he called and you raised your head.

You were pretty, he noticed with satisfaction, all bright eyes and lovely features, curves everywhere he looked “Yes?”

“I’m Jungkook.” he extended his hand with a casual smirk “The professor put us together for this project.”

There had been a small, but pleasant and polite smile on your face up until he said those words, replaced by pursed lips and an arched brow. “Yes, I know. We’ve had classes together for over a year now and been partnered together before.”

Uh oh. “Right” he coughed awkwardly, fumbling under your hardened stare “so, about this project…”

“We will meet once a week,” you said, straightforward as you turned your eyes back to your sticker-filled IPad “I will go over the theme and split the work evenly, so give me your number and I can text you with what you’re supposed to do.”

“Woah, woah, asking for my number already?” he said in a flirting manner, sitting on top of your table so he could be directly in front of you.

“Would you prefer it if I emailed it to you?” you asked without looking up.

“Actually, I was thinking you could help me out a bit,” he placed his finger under your chin, raising your face towards him “you know I have soccer practice and…”

You pushed his hand away “Unless you’re playing at the World Cup, I can’t see how that would be more important than your studies, so you either do your part of the assignment or get an F in it, I don’t care. I won’t do all the work for you, Jeon. Not again.”

Again? Jungkook winced, trying to remember when you had met before. Surely he would remember getting his head bitten off by a snappy, pretty thing like you, wouldn’t he? Surely your attitude would stand out to him amongst all the sweetness and compliance he received just for existing and smiling.

“Here’s my number.” you gave him a piece of paper with your digits written in gel sparkly ink “Text me when you decide if you want to pass this class. Good day.” 

You looked down again, going back to your notes, signing that the conversation was over before he even had the chance to add anything more. He jumped off the desk and stepped away, looking back to see if you were looking at him, but there wasn’t a single glance from your part.

Shit. Shit. He actually did have to pass this class, otherwise his overbearing soccer coach would kick him off the team. He stared down at your number, wondering what he would have to do to get you to cut him a little slack and forgive him for absolutely forgetting about your existence. 

—

“Hey, this is Jungkook” the text from an unknown number said “looking forward to us working together. We should get dinner sometime, get to know each other better.”

You read over the text once more, willing your heart to slow down its beating. Sure, Jungkook was charming and handsome, but you had seen this dance before. He would talk his way into your good graces, making you laugh and giggle until you had a four thousand word essay done with both your names in it and your texts to him would go unanswered and unseen. 

This was not your first hurtful rodeo. You put your phone away, facing down, ignoring as the poor device vibrated itself off the table with the upcoming texts.

Meanwhile, across campus, Jungkook was fuming.

“Or breakfast. We should get breakfast. I know a great place.” he tried once again, but his message was left unread. Still, he persisted.

“I have a lot of great ideas for this assignment. Don’t you want to know them?” he texted, even though he didn’t have the faintest idea on what the assignment was even about.

“You know, it’s rude to leave a guy hanging.”

“How can we do this if you won’t even text me back?”

“I thought we were in this together.”

“You know, like High School Musical.”

He kept typing out absurdity after absurdity, hoping you would dignify one with an answer. He just needed one opportunity, one opening…

His text stopped going through.

“She blocked me!” he gasped out loud.

“Who?” his roommate, Taehyung asked from where he laid on their couch, feet up on the coffee table.

“This girl in my class. We have this project together and she blocked me!”

Taehyung sent a disbelieving look his way “Were you actually planning to do the work?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Obviously not.”

His friend rolled his eyes “Obviously not. So what’s your plan here?”

Jungkook didn’t answer, too busy looking for alternative ways to contact you. After a few minutes of research, he found your Instagram. You were cute, he noticed again, scrolling through your few posts, all relatively recent. You had a very specific style, a tasteful mix or dark and edgy with splashes of pink and bows, tight corsets under leather jackets that he couldn’t help but stare appreciatively, the flattering material clinging to your waist line and pushing your breasts up, exposing the soft freckled top of cleavage to his always hungry eyes. In your pictures, your eyes shone brightly, crinkling at the sides from your ever present smile and he could not understand why you hadn’t directed one of those to him. 

It was unsettling, to say the least, but he could not allow his annoyance to take over. He needed your help if he wanted to pass that class and if he had to use unconventional ways to get your attention, he would. 

And so, much like a little boy pulling at a girl’s braids, he started liking and spamming the comments of every single post you had.

—

There were whispers all around you, your worst nightmare.

You were at the school library, getting work done while drinking from your fourth cup of coffee, hands shaking due to caffeine and anxiety, your ever present friends. You tried to focus on your books and carefully written notes, but every word you could barely hear and every look you felt over your shoulder seemed to dig claws into your skin. You knew what they were saying. You heard it all the way from your dorm to your classes and couldn’t seem to escape them. 

“Did you see Jungkook’s comments on her pictures? What’s that about?”

“It’s not like there’s a lot to comment, is there?” 

“Maybe he thought it was someone else?”

“It’s probably a prank.”

“I bet he was hacked.”

Of course, why else would someone like Jungkook - a campus prince, popular soccer player, heartthrob - show interest in you? 

It hurt, but a small part of you still agreed with those mean spirited whispers. You closed your eyes, trying to even your breathing and will those thoughts away. You knew better, had learned better than to measure your value by how interested some boy was in you.

When you opened your eyes again, Jungkook was in front of you.

You barely had time to process his presence when the voices picked up volume, your skin prickling and eyes aching to remain dry. 

“What’s Jungkook doing with Fat Y/N?”

That word shouldn’t be as hurtful as it was - after all, it was just an adjective, just the current state of your body that served only to carry your thinking mind, your feeling heart. But people always said it like a curse, wielding it like a sword.

You closed your eyes again and when you opened once more, Jungkook was still there. Looking furious.

“What are they saying?”

“What they always said” you shrugged, avoiding his eyes by looking down at your papers.

Jungkook didn’t move for a while, hearing people pretend to whisper around you but it was clear that the motherfuckers wanted you to hear. Was it always like this for you, he wondered, watching as you focused on whatever book you had in front of you, hunched over with tense shoulders, your face a far cry from the luminescent one he saw on your Instagram, not a hint of that smile he wanted directed at him so unreasonably.

He couldn’t just stand there and watch you struggle to keep your posture. 

You felt him standing up and leaving more than you saw him. Good, you thought. He should leave, like everyone did, scared away by that one word that followed you around like a brand. He was probably embarrassed to be seen with you, you assumed bitterly, and there was no place in your life for people who didn’t want you proudly by your side…

Jungkook sat back in the chair in front of you and you couldn’t help but gape at the impressive bouquet of red daisies he extended towards you.

“Take it” he said, but you couldn’t move, could barely hear the furious voices around you over the roaring beat of your heart.

You… You had never gotten flowers. 

“Take it” he repeated “I almost got run over because of this, the least you can do is accept it.”

“Jungkook” you whispered, dumbfoundedly accepting the bouquet “what’s this?”

“People keep doubting I could be interested in you” he said and there was an edge to his tone you did not expect “maybe this could help clear up some rumors.”

“This is not your battle to fight” you held the flowers close to your chest carefully, looking up at him with distrust, unable to understand his motives “I’m used to this sort of thing and I don’t care about those stupid rumors.”

You were used to it? That just made Jungkook angrier. How could you be used to that sort of treatment? 

Jungkook was a lot of things - spoiled, a little lazy, sometimes a dick. But he wasn’t a bigot and he wasn’t about to stand around and let you become used to being disrespected if there was something - anything! - he could do about it “I like picking up fights”.

“Is this just pity?” you asked and he could see walls around you that stood thousands of feet tall “Is this because of that stupid assignment? Because I’m not going to do all the work just because you got me some flowers…” 

He raised his hands and smiled at you “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll do my work” he said, a new goal in mind as he saw you recoil from him with eyes filled with wariness like a suspicious kitten “You said once a week, right? How’s friday for you?” 

You still clung to your bouquet like a lifeline “That works, I guess.”

“Great!” he clapped loudly, standing up and catching the eye of those around him “I’ll see you around, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me sweetheart” you mumbled, but he pretended not to hear as he crossed the table around to your side, quickly leaving a kiss to your heated cheek before you had the chance to react.

“Alright, sweetheart, I’ll see you around” he said, making sure everyone in the library could hear him “do me a favor and unblock me, ok?”

You flipped him off, both for stealing a kiss and that stupid nickname, but he just laughed it off.

“That’s my girl” he said and the library erupted in renewed whispers.

°•. ✿ .•°

𝐌𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧! 𝐂𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝

°•. ✿ .•°

[Red Daisies taglist: @purplelady85 ]

[Permanent taglist: @imknewattis ; @dreamamubarak ; @onlythebest-106 ; @betysotelo18 ; @havetaeminforbreakfast ; @uno7 ; @chimchimmarie ; @anaya123world ; @junecat18 ; @kayleefriedchicken ; @jkselcouth ; @ivrose21 ; @svnbangtansworld ]

#bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts #jungkook x reader #alexl red daisies #ot7 x reader #ot7 x you #bts x y/n #kim taehyung x reader #park jimin x reader #kim namjoon x reader #jung hoseok x reader #min yoongi x reader #kim seokjin x reader #ot7 fluff #bts romance #bts college au

[slavicdelight]

The Hight Tower and the Dragon's Heir

Pairing: Alicent Hightower x male!Targ!reader

Summary: Lady Alicent Hightower was the closest friend of Princess Rhaenyra, yet she couldn't help but fall for her older brother, Y/N.

Warnings: none, following canon divergence

ღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღღ

Alicent Hightower gracefully strolled the corridors of the illustrious Red Keep, her morning lessons with her inseparable companion, Princess Rhaenyra, having just concluded. The echoes of footsteps accompanied her every stride as she made her way towards the luncheon appointment with her father, Ser Otto Hightower, the King's Hand. The castle bursted with vibrant activity—servants hurriedly carried out their duties, knights stood in vigilant postures, and nobles engaged in animated conversations, exchanging the latest court gossip.

As she ascended a majestic staircase, the voice of the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Ser Westerling, reached her ears. With a soft smile, Alicent reciprocated the courteous greeting. The anticipation of her father's chambers lingered in the air as she approached, each step echoing with the weight of her familial responsibilities.

However, the routine of her morning took an unexpected turn when, just before she reached the sanctum of her father, a sudden force collided with her, threatening to send her sprawling. A gasp escaped her lips, but before the cold stone floor could meet her, strong and reassuring hands prevented her from falling. These hands belonged to none other than Y/N Targaryen, the eldest son of the reigning monarch, King Viserys.

In that fleeting moment of unexpected encounter, the bustling ambiance of the Red Keep faded into the background. Alicent found herself lost in his gaze. The air crackled with an unspoken tension, and as Y/N steadied her with an effortless strength, Alicent's heart quickened, realizing that even in the most predictable corridors, destiny had an uncanny way of intertwining lives in an unexpected matter.

"Oh my, Lady Alicent. I'm so sorry; I didn't notice you," the young Prince expressed with a charming smile, nearly as enchanting as the prince himself. His gaze held a hypnotic quality that left Alicent momentarily flustered. Deep down, she possessed an immense fondness for him, but the fear of rejection and the potential repercussions from his younger sister stopped her from ever expressing them.

"No, my Prince. It was I who should've been more careful," Alicent nervously replied, her voice betraying a subtle hint of admiration. The unspoken tension between them lingered in the air. Her father's disapproval of the prince added a layer of complexity to the situation. Otto Hightower believed him to be the same as his uncle, Prince Daemon, hence the mutual hostility.

"Were you heading to your father, perhaps?" the prince inquired, his curiosity evident. Alicent hesitated, aware of the strained relationship between her father, Ser Otto Hightower, and the prince. Otto's opinions about Y/N's fitness for becoming king often clashed with the prince's aspirations.

"Yes, my prince," Alicent replied cautiously, choosing her words with care. The prince graciously took a step back, allowing her to continue her journey towards her father's chambers.

"Then do not let me stop you," he said with a small, understanding smile, his gaze lingering for a moment before gracefully descending the stairs, resuming his own path through the corridors of the Red Keep. That brief encounter, had left Lady Alicent soft in her knees.

Entering the Hand's chambers, Alicent immediately noticed her father seated at the table, a large variety of dishes laid out. She greeted him respectfully and took her place on the opposite side. "Alicent," he acknowledged with a nod, his eyes shining with a mix of sternness and affection. "How was your morning?" he inquired, motioning her to being eating.

"It was fine. I studied with the Princess the whole morning after breaking fast with her and Queen Aemma," Alicent replied, offering a light summary of her activities. The mention of encountering Prince Y/N on her way to her father's chambers prompted a subtle change in his demeanor. His brow lifted, and a stern look accompanied his response. "Prince Y/N is not a good influence. I advise you to avoid him," he coldly said, his voice carrying a weight of disapproval as Alicent cast her gaze downward. "Very well, father," she agreed, and the remainder of their lunch unfolded in a heavy silence.

As Alicent's thoughts drifted back to the violet-eyed prince, she couldn't comprehend her father's disdain for him. In her eyes, he was gallant and the epitome of a perfect prince. The unspoken tension between father and daughter lingered, leaving Alicent with a sense of conflict between her loyalty to her father and a growing curiosity about Y/N.

A fortnight later, the joyous occasion of a tournament took place in order to celebrate the King's anticipated new heir gripped the Red Keep. Nobles from far and wide were invited, marking the event as a grand affair. Queen Aemma, began her labours early in the morning, enduring the suffering alone, as King Viserys presided over the jousting festivities. Prince Daemon, displaying exceptional skills, unseated Alicent's brother Gwayne from his horse.

Victorious, the Prince then diverted his attention towards the stands where Alicent sat. With a charming smile, he asked for her favor, stating, "Lady Alicent, I'm sure your favor would ensure my victory today." Casting a fleeting glance at her father, Alicent handed Daemon her favor. Unbeknownst to her, a certain prince of the crown observed the exchange with a glare and a clenched jaw.

The joy of the tournament swiftly gave way to a somber hush when a messenger arrived bearing the tragic news of Queen Aemma's death. The atmosphere within the Red Keep became grim, mournful mood reigned for weeks. The funeral, held on a distant hill, marked a solemn occasion where the lifeless forms of the Queen and the young Prince lay upon the pyre, awaiting the embrace of dragonfire from Syrax and Shadowspine, the loyal companions of the Queen's surviving children.

Following the ceremony, Alicent found herself once again in her father's chambers, the weight of grief hanging heavily in the air. "How is Rhaenyra?" her father inquired, slight concern etched across his face. Alicent, her fingers idly picking at her fingers, replied, "She just lost her mother." The sorrow that lingered in her words mirrored the collective grief that shrouded the entire Keep.

Not being one to hide his ambitions, her father suggested, "Perhaps you would like to offer the King some comfort. Losing a wife is a terrible thing. He would surely rejoice in a visit." Alicent reluctantly agreed to undertake this solemn task, driven by her desire to please her father. As she turned to leave, she overheard her father's additional instruction, his voice low and laden with subtle implication—indicating that she should dress herself in one of her late mother's gowns.

Rather than heading to the King's chambers as initially intended, Alicent found herself standing before the doors that guarded Prince Y/N's residence. A guard announced her presence, and she entered, greeted by a scene of disarray. The room resembled the aftermath of a storm—furniture upended, decorations scattered in chaotic way. Amidst the disorder, she discovered her prince, seated on the floor, his back against the bed stand, his once-silky hair now tangled, and his eyes holding a haunted look. The scent of alcohol lingered in the air.

Taking a seat beside the prince, Alicent met his gaze, prompting him to question her presence with a strained voice, revealing the results of earlier screams. "I came here to see how you're holding up, my Prince," she replied calmly, her eyes scanning the wreckage around them. He only scoffed in response.

Drawing on her own experiences, Alicent shared, "When my own mother died, people looked at me with pity. I didn't want it. All I wanted was to hear they were sorry." Her empathetic words hung in the air, and she continued, "I'm so sorry for your loss, my Prince," concluding her condolences with a soft look, her eyes reflecting genuine compassion. Y/N stared at her in silence, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, as he began to unveil the weight of his heartache.

"My father's quest for a second son is to blame for this tragedy. He never considered me worthy of the throne," he confessed, his voice full of bitterness and sorrow. "He wished for another son, a better son. One he could put on the throne after himself. I was never enough. Rhaenyra wasn't enough. He killed my mother for a new heir. And now, my brother is also dead," he uttered.

Alicent's heart ached for him, the immensity of his suffering echoing through the confessions. Despite already bearing the responsibilities of being the Heir, this added layer of tragedy made the burden almost unbearable. In her earnest attempt to offer solace, she stood by both Y/N and Princess Rhaenyra, a pillar of support during these dark times.

As Y/N was officially declared Heir before the realm, Alicent stood steadfastly by his side, witnessing the unfolding of destiny. She remained present during the uncomfortable prospect of their father's remarriage, understanding the siblings hesitation. The more time they spent together, the threads of friendship between Alicent and Y/N began to intertwine with the delicate threads of love.

When the time came for the Prince to choose a wife, he declared his intent to marry Lady Alicent, much to Rhaenyra's dismay. While Viserys rejoiced in the prospect, Otto, though reluctantly, agreed to the union. Though not a fervent supporter of the Prince, Otto recognized the strategic significance—marrying his daughter to the future king ensured the placement of his bloodline on the throne.

The union of Alicent and Y/N was immortalized in what became known as the White Wedding. It was a testament to the pure and evident love that bound the newlyweds. The ceremony resonated with the harmonious union of two souls, their vows exchanged amidst the sacred walls of the Sept.

Shorty after their nuptials, the arrival of Aegon Targaryen marked a new chapter in the royal family. The beautiful boy, with the coloring of his father and the distinctive facial structure of his mother, embodied the perfect mix of the royal couple. Aegon, the newest Prince, became a living testament to the love that flourished within the Targaryen lineage.

As Alicent carried the weight of their second child, King Viserys sought to hold a celebratory hunt on his grandson Aegon's second name day. The relationships within the Targaryen family began to mend, albeit slowly, and the noticeable favoritism towards Rhaenyra, perhaps due to her resemblance to her late mother, didn't escape Y/N's notice. Despite the slight discomfort, he chose to focus on his growing family, diverting his attention away from the nuances of favoritism and concentrating on the joyous moments that bound them together.

The grand hunt orchestrated by King Viserys brought a sense of delight to Otto Hightower, who relished the opportunity for both entertainment and strategic alliances. The men, engaged in the pursuit of a White Hart—a symbolic creature representing royalty—set out with purpose, leaving the women to find solace within the safety of the camp.

As Alicent sat beside her husband, Y/N, who held their young son Aegon in his lap, an unexpected intrusion disrupted the peace inside the tent. Rhaenyra, the spirited Princess, burst in with determination, her grievances clear. Viserys, in his pursuit to secure her a suitable match, had orchestrated a connection with Jason Lannister, much to Rhaenyra's vocal displeasure. The fiery Princess asserted her autonomy, rejecting the notion of being treated as a prize to be sold to the highest bidder.

The repercussions of this confrontation left Alicent aware of the strain in her once-unbreakable bond with Rhaenyra. The princess, fueled by a desire to ascend to the throne, resented the twist of fate that seemingly diverted Y/N's affections toward Alicent, who had become the new Princess consort.

In the next years, Rhaenyra's fate took a turn as she was forced into a marriage with her cousin, Ser Laenor Velaryon, because of previous liaison with her uncle Daemon in a pleasure house that added further complexity to the situation. The marriage, arranged against her will, led to the birth of bastards, whom she attempted to pass as legitimate—a move not lost on the eyes of the court.

Despite Viserys's blindness, the court recognized the discrepancy in the children's Valyrian features. Whispers spread, hinting at a connection with Ser Harwing Strong, the Commander of the Gold Cloaks, who served closely under the Princess.

These choices made by Rhaenyra made Alicent bitter. The apparent disregard for duty exhibited by Rhaenyra, coupled with the ability to evade consequences, fueled Alicent's resentment. Yet, in the face of this, the legitimacy of the children born to Y/N and Alicent remained unquestionable. The unmistakable resemblance of each child to their father nullified any potential doubts that might have arisen.

As their children matured, distinct personalities emerged, painting a portrait of the Targaryen legacy. Aegon, the mischievous firstborn, delighted in playing pranks and causing mayhem within the castle. Despite occasional mischief, his loyalty to the family prevailed, a testament to the intricate balance of his character.

Helaena, their only daughter, embodied sweetness and warmth. Though closed off to many, she harbored a great heart, often murmuring riddles that, while dismissed by most, held significance to her parents who recognized her as a dreamer with visions of her own.

Aemond, a mirror image of his father, shared not only physical similarities but also akin personalities. The only distinction lay in Aemond's shyness. His passion for history forged a special bond with King Viserys, who favored the small Prince. Their shared love for learning brought them together in frequent discussions about the boy's recent discoveries.

The youngest, Daeron, charmed all who crossed his path, earning the title of the most popular son among their subjects. His charm and charisma propelled him to Oldtown, serving his mother's uncle as a cupbearer and squire.

Amidst the dynamic growth of their children, Y/N and Alicent's love stood resilient. Any hopes Rhaenyra harbored of a falling out between the couple were in vain; their bond, an indestructible force, continued to strengthen.

The visible strain within the ruling family had spilled beyond the walls of the Red Keep, earning them the titles of "blacks" and "reds" among the common folk and nobility alike. Y/N, recognizing the fractures within his family, attempted reconciliation with his younger sister, but Rhaenyra remained consumed by anger towards him for marrying another and harbored resentment for Alicent, his wife for being said woman. The rift seemed irreparable.

Despite the familial tensions, Y/N maintained a close involvement in the training of his sons, personally overseeing their progress with the assistance of Ser Criston Cole, who had shifted his allegiance from Rhaenyra to the royal family. Aegon and Aemond exhibited remarkable progress, overshadowing their cousins.

During a training session, as Ser Criston instructed the young princes, Y/N was reluctantly pulled away by the demands of his duties as the Heir. King Viserys, observing from the terrace, keenly followed the lesson. The knight, calling upon Aegon, challenged him to a sparring match and taunted, "Let's see if you can touch me. You and your brother." The confident Prince, Aegon, responded with a cocky assurance, "I've won my first bound, Ser Criston. My opponent sues for mercy."

Undeterred, Ser Criston introduced a new challenge, pitting both Aegon and Aemond against him. The two princes advanced, swords in hand, but the seasoned knight skillfully blocked each of their attacks, showcasing his experience and expertise. The training ground became a battleground of skills, the clash of steel echoing the intricate dynamics of power, loyalty, and the indomitable spirit of the Targaryen lineage.

The training ground, alive with the clang of swords and the shuffling of feet, fell into a momentary silence as Ser Harwin approached, offering instructions to the brown-haired princes. His voice redirected Ser Criston's attention toward the younger boys. "It seems like the younger boys could use your attention, Ser," Harwin remarked as he walked closer. A subtle tension hung in the air as Criston questioned, "Are you questioning my method of instruction?"

In response, Criston motioned for Aegon to face Jaecerys, declaring it an "eldest son against eldest son" spar. The white-haired Prince's age and strength became evident as he overpowered the younger Jaecerys. However, as Aegon advanced, he found himself roughly seized by the shoulder and pulled away by Ser Harwin. Aegon, outraged by the intervention, protested loudly, resulting in a reprimand from the King.

Tensions flared further when Criston began questioning the Commander of the Gold Cloaks's interest in the princes' training, suggesting affections that a man might harbor for his children. The insinuation proved too much for Ser Harwin, who snapped and attacked Criston. The incident led to Ser Harwin's banishment from King's Landing, and a few days later, he perished within the walls of Harrenhal along with his father.

More sorrowful news followed swiftly. A raven brought the grim information of Lady Laena Velaryon's death, casting a pall over King's Landing. The weight of Laena's death cast a somber shadow over Y/N, who had considered her another sister growing up. The entire family traveled to Driftmark to pay their respects, attending a funeral marred by Lord Vaemond's continuous accusations directed at Princess Rhaenyra and her bastard sons. Prince Daemon's laughter, strategically employed to deflect attention, added a layer of tension to the already heart-wrenching day.

Once the children retired for the night, Alicent found a moment to speak with her husband. In the quiet confines of their chamber, she gently inquired, "Are you alright, my love?" Y/N, standing by a window overlooking the view of Driftmark, confessed, "She was one of my closest friends, and she died alone. Without her family or friends, because Daemon denied her return. She didn't deserve such a fate."

Alicent, though not as intimately acquainted with Lady Laena, offered words of solace, acknowledging her bravery and kindness. Y/N, appreciating his wife's comforting presence, sighed and turned to look at her. "I'm sure you're right, darling," he said, caressing her face. In that moment, they found solace in each other's embrace, a comforting respite from the sorrow that permeated their hearts.

With a shared understanding, Y/N guided Alicent to bed, where they surrendered to the embrace of sleep, seeking refuge from the weariness that accompanied the emotional journey. Their intertwined forms, nestled in peaceful repose, reflected the enduring strength of their bond in the face of life's inevitable trials.

The tranquility that enveloped Y/N and Alicent was shattered abruptly when a maid, panic-stricken, banged on their door, delivering news of a grave accident involving their son. Swiftly dressing into presentable robes, they rushed towards the hall where their children were present. The sight that awaited them was horrifying—Aemond, their beloved son, was a bloody mess, missing an eye. Alicent's anguished scream pierced the air as she ran towards her injured child.

Demanding answers, Y/N interrogated the Knights, learning that the Prince had been mauled in a brawl with his cousins. The King, arriving on the scene, angrily questioned the guards for allowing such an incident. Princess Rhaenys and Lord Corlys soon joined, but Y/N's attention shifted to the absence of Princess Rhaenyra. When she finally appeared, followed by Prince Daemon, their disheveled appearance hinted at a liaison that further fueled Y/N's anger. How could they disrespect Lady Laena's memory like this?

Amid the chaos, Rhaenyra declared the incident a "regrettable accident," but Alicent argued it was a planned attack. Rhaenyra defended her sons, claiming they were being attacked with vile insults against their legitimacy "Prince Aemond must be sharply questioned on where he heard such slanders". Y/N's anger flared; his sister intended to torture his gravely wounded son over a truth that was evident.

Rhaenyra's attempt to extract information from Prince Aemond, who had heard the alleged slanders, only heightened tensions. Y/N, protective of his son, forbade any harm to befell Aemond. As the King sought apologies and forgiveness, Alicent snapped, demanding justice and ordering the eye of Lucerys Velaryon to conduct it. Chaos ensued as Alicent, fueled by rage, advanced towards Rhaenyra with a knife. Y/N noticed his uncle making way to two women to undoubtedly aid Rhaenyra, which he couldn't let happen and stopped him before Daemon could reach her.

The struggle between Alicent and Rhaenyra unfolded, the room becoming a battleground of emotions and grievances. In the midst of the chaos, Aemond, now with one eye, offered comfort to his mother, stating "Don't mourn me mother. I might've lost an eye but I gained a dragon". Y/N joined the embrace, and as his father declared the matter over, the fractured family clung to the remnants of peace amidst the aftermath of pain and turmoil.

As the years unfolded, the Targaryen family found solace and unity in each other's company. Every meal became a cherished time for discussion, laughter, and shared moments, further strengthening the familial bonds that had weathered storms and emerged resilient.

Aegon and Helaena's marriage flourished, blessed with their two beautiful children, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera. Aegon transformed into a caring and attentive husband, shedding his earlier tendencies to become the perfect Prince fit to one day ascend the throne. Aemond, despite the challenges posed by his limited vision, emerged as a formidable warrior under his father's tutelage. Determined not to be hindered by his condition, he trained with unparalleled dedication, surpassing many in skill and prowess.

Y/N and Alicent, beaming with pride, reveled in the achievements of their children. However, their joy was tempered by the somber responsibility that befell them. With King Viserys succumbing to sickness, he lay bedridden, casting a long shadow over the realm. The inevitable reality loomed—the time was approaching when a new monarch would ascend the throne.

Amidst the bittersweet echoes of Viserys's declining health, the Targaryen family stood united, ready to face the challenges that awaited them. The transition of power loomed on the horizon, and the legacy of House Targaryen stood at the threshold of a new chapter in the annals of Westeros.

The arrival of a raven bearing Ser Vaemond Velaryon's challenging petition for the Driftwood Throne thrust the Red Keep into a state of heightened anxiety. The assertion that Rhaenyra, Daemon, and their children would return to the heart of the realm brought a cloud of unease over the castle, especially given the recent mysterious death of Laenor Velaryon.

In the midst of the commotion, Alicent navigated through the corridors toward the King's chamber, where she knew Rhaenyra and Daemon would be discussing the pressing matter of King Viserys's condition. Upon entering, she greeted them with courtesy, acknowledging the lapse of time since their last encounter. Daemon responded with a nonchalant hum, while Rhaenyra inquired about the authority overseeing the trial of her son.

A new voice cut through the tension as Y/N entered, a smirk playing on his lips. He revealed himself as the authority presiding over the trial, promising a fair judgment even as he acknowledged the accusations thrown at his wife. The room held its breath, and Alicent, standing beside her husband, added, "We have pressing matters to attend to, but please, make yourself at home." With that, the married couple walked away, leaving the guests to navigate the looming trial and the shadows of familial discord that cast their pall over the Red Keep.

The throne room buzzed with tension as the petitions unfolded, each speaker presenting their case before Y/N, who sat on the throne in his father's stead. The weight of judgment rested heavily on his shoulders. Lord Vaemond Velaryon was the first to address the court, delivering a lengthy discourse on bloodlines and the survival of House Velaryon.

However, the proceedings took an unexpected turn when, during Rhaenyra's turn to present her defense, the door opened, and in walked King Viserys. Ready to defend his favorite child, the ailing monarch cast a shadow over the proceedings. The air thickened with anticipation as the confrontation unfolded.

In a swift and brutal turn of events, Vaemond found himself condemned for openly declaring the princess's sons as bastards. The throne room, once filled with the echoes of legal arguments, now bore witness to the irrevocable consequences of familial discord and political maneuvering. As the lifeblood of House Velaryon spilled in pursuit of power and legitimacy, the court faced the stark reality that the struggle for succession and survival could exact a heavy toll on those entangled in the webs of Westerosi politics.

The atmosphere in the dining hall was thick with tension, mirroring the strained relationships within the Targaryen family. Viserys, lying in his seat of honor, served as the symbolic divide between two estranged siblings, Rhaenyra and Y/N, as the air was charged with unspoken grievances.

Jace and Luke, Baela and Rhaena, each engaged in their own conversations, while Aegon and Helaena shared a tender moment, the Prince gently rubbing his wife's hand. Aemond and Daemon, ever vigilant, sat observing, their tension a reflection of the underlying conflicts.

As King Viserys was carried in, the room stood in a display of respect. The king began his speech, adressing his family. “It’s good to see you all together. My heart aches when I see the faces dearest to me so full of envy and drifting apart form each other. House of the Dragon must be united, so let us forget all and stay strong. If not for the realm, the for this old man, who loves you all dearly.“ But the damage had been done, and the fractures within the family ran too deep to be easily mended.

Rhaenyra's toast, seemingly a gesture of reconciliation, momentarily shifted the mood. Alicent responded gracefully, highlighting the common ground between them as mothers, but the facade of harmony was shattered by a seemingly innocent gesture—a pig brought before Prince Aemond, triggering memories of the Pink Dread incident.

Aemond's explosive reaction disrupted the fragile peace. The room fell into an uneasy silence as he stood, expressing a "final tribute" to the health of his nephews, ending the speech with an insult towards the boys calling them "Strong". Chaos erupted as the young princes clashed, and the adults scrambled to intervene. The disastrous dinner culminated in Princess Rhaenyra's decision to retreat to Dragonstone, leaving behind a shattered illusion of family unity. The scars of the past ran too deep, and the once-grand gesture of a family dinner had unraveled into a painful reminder of the irreparable divisions within House Targaryen.

The dimly lit corridors echoed with quiet footsteps as Y/N made his way to his father's chamber. Upon entering, a solemn atmosphere enveloped the room, and Y/N approached King Viserys. As he assisted the ailing monarch in preparing for sleep, Viserys muttered incoherent phrases, and amidst the confusion, Y/N discerned a recurring theme—Aegon's prophecy.

In the hushed moments of their interaction, the weight of impending succession hung in the air. Viserys, in his final moments, seemed to impart a significant task to his son, urging him to fulfill the prophecy. The murmurings faded as the night unfolded, and King Viserys the Peaceful drew his last breath.

As dawn approached, the realm awaited the news of a new leader who would step forward to succeed the late monarch. The corridors, once traversed by Y/N in anticipation, now held the echoes of transition and the uncertainty that accompanied the changing tides of leadership within House Targaryen.

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A/N: This one is slightly longer, but I couldn't help but give Alicent and her kids the husband and father they deserved. We all could agree that Viserys absolutely sucked in these roles. Thank you for all the support and it would mean the world to me if you checked out my other works ♡

#aemond targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #alicent hightower x reader #male reader #otto hightower #viserys targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #daemon targeryen x reader #jaecerys velaryon #lucerys velaryon #aemond one eye #aegon targaryen x reader #helaena targaryen x reader #team green #team black #house of the dragon fanfiction #alicent hightower #targaryen reader #aemond hotd #aemond targaryen fanfic #fic rec #hotd season 2 #princess rhaenyra #king viserys #queen alicent #alicent hightower fanfic #dance of the dragons #aegon ii targaryen #helaena the dreamer #helaena targaryen

[comfortless]

All That You Don’t Want

PAIRING: witch!fem!reader x apprentice!König

CONTENT: 18+! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. oneshot. obvious au— so not canon-compliant!, questionable morality, mutual pining, animal death (it’s still alive! but not!), minor character death, power imbalance? technically teacher/student, forced proximity, smut; unprotected piv, creampie, cunnilingus, cockwarming.

NOTES: title from this song! (i will never stop titling my König fics after The Twilight Sad lyrics sorry) i have never written smut in my life i apologize if this is rough!! cover: Robert Bresson, 1951 wc: 7.7k

You never wanted an apprentice, never had the need for some bright-eyed whelp shadowing you for their own benefit. The kingdom had enough competition as far as your craft went— green magic, potion brewing and enchantments, why in the world would you risk teaching someone your secrets only for them to outdo you at every turn? Those with the propensity for magic weren’t treated human, anyway. You saw the looks, uneasy and disgusted, unless of course they had need of you.

The Guild keeps your protected, scrawl your praises in every fresh sheet of parchment passed about, brings in new clients for you to keep yourself afloat without you ever having to leave your little cottage in the forest just beyond the towering walls of the kingdom. So, when you receive the damned letter, how can you refuse?

Green magic couldn’t protect you from the King’s headsman, nor could it keep you hidden away from the constant threat of bandits and other malevolent forces, but the lines in the small letter detailing your new apprentice’s abilities are enough to make you swallow back some of that displeasure.

“… proficient in offensive magics…” and “… formerly in service to the King as a worthy candidate for knighting…” even “… a skilled huntsman…” all tell you that whoever this enigmatic pup is, he would have no qualms hissing at and chasing off a few rogues if they dared step too close to your territory. You picture some ruggedly handsome and charming gentleman arriving at your door with a sword of the finest steel hanging from his side and you loathe the way that your heart seems to flutter with excitement at the prospect.

A fortnight after the letter arrived at your doorstep, you realize that fantasy is often far sweeter than the reality.

You’re busying yourself sorting out a towering shelf with haphazardly placed vials, some labeled and others… well, if you had to guess based on the color of the fluid inside, you should probably toss lest you accidentally poison the next poor woman that comes by simply wanting something to charm the cute farmhand while her piece of shit husband, far too old for her, is off on another brothel visit. You may not be equipped to defend yourself in battle, but you know very well how to make nightshade and wolf’s bane taste like milk and honey.

It’s when you turn with your arms burdened by a heap of unlabeled, possibly poisonous concoctions that you see a figure just outside your window— tall, face shrouded with a blackened veil with only two holes cut out for his moonstone eyes. You curse the way the sight makes you nearly jump out of your skin, dropping everything you were holding onto the wooden floor, brightly colored fluid and glass shards staining a nearby rug you had spent an entire month painstakingly hooking yourself. The specter just tilts his head at you before inviting himself inside. Why bother pretending to be civilized when you look like that, anyhow?

You crouch to collect the shards of glass and wipe away the mixture of maybe-poisons as he enters, not sparing him a glance even as his footfalls lead him to stand uncomfortably close. Perhaps if the entire ordeal hadn’t pissed you off you would have the sense to be afraid, consider the fact that this titan of a man could have been a thief, but something tells you that this is the bright-eyed whelp you had anticipated. The man doesn’t even bother to greet you, let alone kick his muddy boots off at the door, he just hovers over you with his face tilted downward as you scrub up the mess you tell yourself he had caused.

“Leave it to The Guild to send me a dolt,” you mutter below your breath, barely audible as you move to deposit bits of broken glass into a wastebasket at the corner of the room.

“Ja?” The man huffs amusedly.

“Ja?” You question.

“Yes.”

You give him a look, one that suggests you’re in no mood for whatever this is and he seems to stiffen. Any mirth in those haunted eyes of his is quickly snuffed out, replaced with his gaze darting from perusing your backside to the corner of the room, then back up to your face.

He introduces himself as ‘König’. No surname, no title. Though, you supposed in his language, his name was a title in itself. Perhaps your disappointment is more notable than you realize, because the man seems almost nervous around you as you introduce yourself in turn. His fingers curl into his palms in repetition at his sides, and it’s impossible to tell by the small glimpse of his face whether or not he wants to strangle you or bury himself instead.

You rise to your feet, feeling acutely defeated as you lead him around the home, showing him to each room before stopping at the door to his own and crossing your arms over your chest.

“You’ll stay here,” you say quietly, avoiding his eyes as he lowers himself to look at you, thanking you graciously as his hand lingers a bit too long on your shoulder. You gently reach to pry it off, only to feel him grip at your fingers running his thumb over each knuckle before finally drawing away.

You watch from the doorway as he inspects the room. A bed a size two small for a man such as himself sits in the middle, a desk cluttered with spare vials of ink and a few quills made of swan feather, and a towering bookshelf filled with books on simple magic that you haven’t bothered to touch since you were a girl. He seems pleased, despite how very little effort was made for him. As much as you wish otherwise, you almost feel the sting of guilt when you watch him seat himself on the small bed and his eyes light up as he looks to you.

It didn’t take much perception to see the world hadn’t treated this brute too kindly.

He hunts your dinner, bringing home several rabbits that he took his time to skin and prepare for cooking in the yard. Even more, he roasts them over a fire he stoked up for you in a display of gratitude. You watch him from the fogged window as he seats himself by the fluttering flames, watching the meat with a focus that speaks volumes about his own discipline.

“Have you lived on the land for long, König?,” you ask him when the two of you are seated at the table, wiping away the remnants of your meal from your lips with a small handkerchief.

He’s only rucked up his hood enough to eat, the scars lining his jaw run deep, the skin pasty there. He looked far too pale to even be a living thing at all, but his thin lips pull into a grin at your question. “You can tell?” He asks with a slight tilt of his head, the tone of his voice suggesting sarcasm. “Perceptive little witch.”

You furrow your brow at him, surprised by his sudden arrogance. You would have sooner expected the man to tear a hole through you than meet your little question with a cocky response if his twitchy behavior was anything to go by. But… his voice sends a shiver down your spine, the amused lilt mixed with his accent, some natural charm that makes areas of you ache that haven’t been touched in years.

“A man must know to feed himself, ja?”

“Well, I don’t hunt.”

He huffs out a laugh at that, raising a hand to readjust his hood, pulling it back down over his face. König is not pretty, far from it from what you could see, but you almost find yourself downtrodden that he’s hiding himself again when you were only just starting to find yourself curious.

“I will teach you,” he suggests as he clears your table, depositing both your dishes and his own into the washbasin at the far corner of the kitchen. He’s helping, and your eyes merely track him dumbfounded.

“You don’t have to, König— I, um. I’m supposed to be teaching you, remember?” You’re trying to sound authoritative, like a proper mentor but it’s fruitless, really. How long had it been since a man was this close to you, living out in the forest? You had clients, sure, but in your craft you came to know about their proclivities, their ailments, and any interest you may have had died with their innumerable requests.

The Guild had set you up, surely, you decide as your eyes wander over to the man washing your dishes, the man who had prepared your dinner, who had stared openly at your ass. The man who smelled of dew and timber and fire smoke. The man with the most beautiful, tired eyes you had ever met.

You can see the muscles of his back through his tunic, tightly bundled up from where he’s drawn his sleeves to his bicep to wash up the remnants of dinner, mind almost numbing from the sight alone. It felt like some divine torture, to be sent something you adamantly did not want only for that very same thing to make your pulse quicken and throat dry.

“I want to teach you,” he tries again.

You feel sinful for the place your mind goes then. Do the ladies in the kingdom often allow monsters to bed them? Is his size comparable to the stature?

“Okay.” Your voice was tight, barely a whisper.

He finishes up his cleaning and turns to look at you as he wrings his hands over the washbasin, his eyes narrowed and crinkled at the corners. Grinning again like a wolf knowing he’s got his claws in you.

— — —

You go over the standard protocol when dealing with customers seeking remedies with König as you hear the approaching horse whinnying out in the yard. Simple, standard. Most people had a wariness for those who were touched by magic, understandably so. It’s human nature to fear what isn’t fully understood. With König’s imposing height and the veil over his face, you needed him to be extra careful in these situations. He doesn’t seem to take offense at your fretting, merely smiles beneath the veil as you speak and all is settled and well by the time your client wraps lightly at the door.

You swing the door open with a polite smile, hands clasped at the lap of your dress. The smile is maintained even as you catch sight of his face, scars from a horrific burn covering over half of it, his right eye filmed over and sightless in its socket. He wasn’t here to charm a lady or conceal his face with glamours, only for a balm to alleviate the lingering, phantom pains that stretched from his scalp down to his neck. A decent man, and a damned good blacksmith from what you had heard. He was one of your favorites.

König observes from the corner of the room, leaned against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest without a word as you fetch the jar of balm for the client, accept his coin and send him back on his way.

“Oh.. I don’t know how he got that nasty burn but it’s hard to look at isn’t it?”

König gives you a look, something unsaid hinted at just beyond the surface of his icy eyes, and you realize it’s a little too late to pull your words back.

— — —

Days seem to pass by with an awkward tension in the air. It’s not because of his tutelage under you, either, because he’s doing surprisingly well with his studies. Potion crafting is a tricky, fickle sort of thing. One mistake and an entire batch is ruined and the gods only knew when you would stumble upon what was required whilst foraging again. König is careful, attentive as he follows your instruction. He studies diligently, spending his free time reading through his books, often out in the foyer and if not for how skilled he was, you would assume it was all for show. Wishful thinking, a vicious yearning settling in between your breasts that wants for him to try and impress you, to court you.

It’s tense because you’ve found you can’t keep the man out of your head. In the late hour when the house has fallen silent, you could often hear his desperate grunts through the thin slats of wood separating your own room from his. You’ve imagined the sight of him fisting his cock, biting down onto his scarred lip as he whines through his release more times than you would ever confess. The gods themselves couldn’t pry the admittance from your lips that you wait up sometimes to hear him with your own hand between your thighs.

And König had this look about him now, more confident as he walks about. His hands don’t twitch as much when the two of you speak.

It’s the seventh morning as you’re preparing tea for the both of you that he enters the cottage entirely nude (apart from the hood; he seems insistent about keeping it almost entirely on in your presence). His body drips with river water, looking more like the skillfully carved statues that took residence in the castle courtyard than any man at all. You can’t help your staring, and he seems unperturbed by it as he slips behind you to set some freshly plucked milkweed on the wooden countertop. So focused on the cords of tight muscle layering his body, the obscene thing swaying between his legs, you hadn’t even noticed he had bothered to collect an ingredient you so desperately needed.

A man such as he should be seated on a throne, worshipped by a harem of pretty ladies, all pawing at his lap. Yet— he merely had you, ogling him as openly as he seemed to do to you.

“For the elixir,” he hums, sounding amused as he tilts his head to look you over as he had a striking amount of times already.

“Yeah.” You try to subtly clear your throat, cursing yourself for the way your reaction prompts his eyes to dart to the swell of your breasts beneath your dress. “Thanks.”

“You look pretty today.” He’s making everything worse. Turning your quiet life around and filling you with some horrid feeling you’ve avoided for years out here in near-isolation. “You look pretty everyday,” he corrects himself before you can speak. The obscene pillar between his legs seems to grow at the sight of you, and if you were not certain before, you know assuredly now that something has cursed you.

A good, knowing witch would tell him that his compliments were inappropriate, unwarranted. She would tell him to not walk around with his cock on full display and send him off to practice mundane spells as punishment. You are not a good, knowing witch at all if the warmth on your face is anything to go by.

“How was the river?” You ask instead, graciously retrieving a towel from the cupboard to hand to him. Despite how orderly you tried to keep things here, it’s not the water he’s dripping all over the hardwood that has your mind spinning.

“Gut.” He says words in his native tongue, often, and you’ve already grown accustomed to deciphering them. They sound prettier on his tongue than your own. He accepts the towel and merely draping it over his broad shoulders. “Come with me next time,” he offers, all but innocently.

God damnit.

“I made tea.” You’re trying to avoid his undressing stare, busying yourself with the tea kettle. The scent of mint seems to calm you as you pour the tea into your own mug, careful not to spill it out onto the counter with your trembling hands.

“I like you.” Blunt as always, you wonder if he even has any sort of control on the things he says.

God damnit all.

“I like you too, König. You’re a good apprentice,” you respond, your nerves alight with something that you can’t quite place; a twig on the verge of snapping under its weight.

He laughs soft, and graciously gives you a reprieve from well… that as he steps out of the room to finally dress himself.

Later that evening as the elixir is fully prepared and the client arrives to pick it up, you realize that König is no where in sight. It’s not uncommon; the man certainly lacked his social graces, but he hadn’t seemed to mind the shopfront side of what you do before until you had spoken so carelessly. The client is a nervous little thing, a girl not yet a woman, anxious and shaky as she takes the vial from you with an abundance of thanks. It’s no wonder why she had requested such a thing meant to put a patch over her anxieties and communicate better now. You steal only a spoonful from the cauldron as you empty it, praying that it silences the buzzing of nerves and the fluttering in your heart as you bed down for the night.

— — —

You wake to a door slamming shut in the dead of night, followed by the quieted hiss of what you believe to be a curse in a language that is not your own. It immediately sends you on high alert, thinking back to the threat of bandits and enchanted wildlife or whatever else. Jolted from your bed by the kick of adrenaline, you tiptoe down the stairs to see that… nothing is out of place. The den is as homey as always, every vial and potion bottle in its place on the shelves. The only thing that appeared to be missing at all was a book on your shelf. You knew that book, too. It was a favorite of many of your customers, the ones with weathered skin or features that were not the golden standard of delicate, royal beauty. A book on glamours was not something that would be stolen away by any thief in the night, seeing as it wouldn’t be of much help at all without a dedicated practitioner.

It only really settles in for you that your apprentice snatched it away when you take a peek out of the window and your eyes settle on a darkened corner of the garden. Tall sprigs of lavender sprung up from the earth there, and an even taller man sat, legs crossed with your book in his lap beneath the milky glow of the moon.

König looks… agitated. Even from this distance, the glass and wall and several meters of organized plant life separating you, you can see his hands shaking as he ghosts his calloused fingertips over the pages. His shoulders tense and a fiery look in his eye. He reads the incantations aloud with proper annunciation, forced through his thick accent. Repeats them, several times over. Not a thing changes.

But you leave him be, return to bed, because despite him being your responsibility, his private matters are still his own. As much as you would like to snatch the book from his hands and confess through tears that he haunts your dreaming just as he is now, you can’t bring yourself to do so.

When the book is in its place the following morning with König still in his bed, you read over the pages heavily scented by lavender. The ones that tell you how he sees himself in truth without a single word from his own being. Too tall, too ugly, too ruined.

It’s not enough to say your heart breaks. You feel it shatter somewhere in your chest, little pieces crumbling down into the darkest pit of your middle. Perhaps he’s only doing this due to your careless words about your client the other day, perhaps he wants to be seen as something beautiful for once.

The day is spent with a heavy weariness in your eyes. König picks up some slack for you as you fester in a sadness that should not even be your own; prepares something meaty for you both to eat, incorrectly sweeps some dust from the wooden floors that you know you’ll have to properly clean later on, and even tends to the garden. He’s good with the plants, gentle as he plucks berries from their stems and cuts away only what was required with a sharp dagger.

While you’ve thrown yourself over a cushioned chair, König kneels before you to speak. He’s just finished telling you some gory tale about when he squired for Ser… something, a name you don’t even care to remember. It was a rare occurrence for him to open up, you’ve come to realize that. Maybe it was simply too soon for him, but then again, he seemed to have no qualms allowing you to hear his desperate howling at night or walk about after a bath with his cock fully erect in your line of sight. If words were too much then what the hell was all of that?

“How come you didn’t become a knight, König?” you ask him, your tone sounding a bit more dead than intended. It wasn’t that you weren’t interested in his stories, you were simply still coming to terms with one of his likely innumerable secrets. “The Guild said you were a good candidate, so why?”

You ask your questions, his eyes light up. He’s not used to this, it seems, and the fact that you want to know him at all makes him giddy. His fingers drum against his thighs, eyes creasing at the corners as he smiles beneath that veil and you wonder… wonder how the world could be cruel to someone like this at all when all that you want to do is bundle up with him beneath your thick quilts and kiss him in places only lovers would.

He doesn’t respond to your question, though. Another secret for some other time, you supposed. Instead, he asks his own, “Why are you so alone?”

König speaks freely, you knew that well enough but the words that escape his lips cause you to freeze all the same. His tone is neutral, not accusatory or mocking, but there’s something— something there you can’t properly uproot.

“I’m not lonely.” A little white lie couldn’t be too terrible, yet the thought of betraying your companion in even such a small way, hurting him like you assumed so many others had before is just unthinkable. “I am sometimes, but I like living here,” you correct.

“But you are alone,” he insists.

“I am not. You’re here.”

Your words are like a charm, really, and any rationale König may have had immediately dissipates when you speak them. He climbs over you, the chair creaking under your combined weight as he looks down at you with this hope-filled expression that tugs every one of your heartstrings at once. “Let me kiss you.”

His shallow breathing flutters his veil, the hunger in his eyes more than apparent, and you’ve the sense that a mere kiss would not suffice, turning into a long night with an impossible soreness between your thighs come morning.

You shake your head and he backs off immediately, returning to sit on the floor before you instead with a simple, “Okay.”

The room falls silent for a moment. You wanted to. You’ve been longing to. And yet the opportunity had gone and went; for any normal, sane person your rejection would have been enough. Weeks spent in his company should have taught you that König was a far cry from normal. The man treats you like you’re a doll, not a seasoned witch. Takes to hiding away from any company you may have and spends his nights outside in the dark wishing and failing to change what he was.

“If I tell you why I am not a knight will you kiss me?,” he tries again as you shift to sit upright in your seat.

“What? König, no… that’s not how—”

“I will court you,” he interjects quickly, rising to his feet to stare down at you. The man was practically buzzing with excitement, and you wonder if he intends to bolt out of the house right then to bring back ample gifts of flowers and fine silks just for a chance to mash his mouth against your own.

“You’re not here to court me,” you huff with a pinched brow. Stop making this harder! Why must you always make this harder?!

“I think about you at night.”

The giant professes his affections by telling you that he’s fucking his fist to the thought of you with all the simplicity of idle talk. Somehow, that seemed less alarming than the fact that you don’t even seem horrified. Words fail you when you desperately need them most, merely gaping up at him so dumbly you must have actually belayed interest, because he continues.

“In the river too.”

“König… that’s inappropriate,” you manage to find your voice then. You know that you’re a plaster saint, too, because the thought of bathing where he spreads his seed sends a swell of warmth from your tummy to the aching blossom between your legs.

“Ja, it is… why do you tease me? The way you look…” He trails off with a shake of his head, his blue eyes narrowing in confusion. He was trembling as though afraid, so violently you almost fear he’ll come crashing over you like an ocean wave. You would catch him, drown in salt water and foam, a curtain of sharp teeth and darkness.

He fidgets as he waits for an answer that never comes. What could you say? Admit that the way he feels is a mirror of yourself, that the two of you are only seconds from diving into a pool that you could never resurface from.

But just like before, König retreats up the shadowy staircase, up to his room. Another reprieve, another stone weighing heavy in the recesses of your mind.

— — —

Secrets are stupid, evil things you decide.

You’re staring into the glazed eyes of a dead buck as it stands before you on it’s hind legs. It’s head hangs limply from its broken neck, mouth gaping with each fragile intake of breath. It’s bloated belly leaks it’s own entrails as it takes a shaky step towards you, trying desperately to kick at you with the stiff limbs tucked against its chest.

“I don’t know how to make it go away,” König pants at your side, and despite his shallow, rapid breathing there’s this calm look in his eyes. This has happened before. This has happened before and to a far worse extent than a deer.

It makes sense, now, why something as trivial as casting a glamour simply didn’t work for König. The man was touched by something darker, something the King’s men would happily cut his head from his shoulders for. Necromancy was immoral and frankly, horrifying. Seeing it now, it was really no wonder why this sort of magic would send one directly to the headsman.

The deer huffs a breath, too long and ragged. It’s not used to breathing any more, after all. König steps between you two, his dagger raised. “Just… close your eyes.”

It’s over as quickly as it’s manifested and König does well at shielding you from the aftermath, your face pressed to his chest as he pulls you into his arms and walks you back home. What was meant to be a simple practicing session, resulted in chaos, and you’ve no words to give to fill the silence hanging over the two of you as he finally deposits you by the door.

You stand on shaking legs, a million questions swimming through your mind, but even as you part your lips to speak not a single sound comes out.

He looks exasperated when he finally remedies the quiet. “You’re afraid of me.” It’s not a question, only a resounding fact.

“No,” you lie immediately with a firm shake of your head.

“I will go.” König’s eyes are tired, always tired. He’s already slinking back towards the door when you reach for him, almost clawing at the length of his sleeve in your own desperation. If you were cursed this man was, tenfold, and you couldn’t bear the thought of sending him back out into a world that had hurt him so. One that would assuredly end his torment should this ever happen again. You don’t know whether you’re being merciful or selfish anymore; the definitions all a blur. You only know that the thought of König leaving your side feels like the ache of a thorn embedded in your heart.

“König, please— We can figure something out, we’ll make sure this doesn’t happen again,” you huff as you bury your face against his shoulder. He’s both tense and trembling beneath your warmth. “I just need time to think.”

He cocks his head, a resounding twinkle of mirth breaking through the listlessness in his eyes. “Why?”

König isn’t dull-witted. He knows the words you never have a chance to speak. No one’s ever held fast to his side like this; no one has ever truly wanted him.

You know that the second he pushes his veil up and presses his mouth to yours. It’s clumsy, the force he uses, as if he’s trying to headbutt you instead of give you his affection, but you reciprocate in turn. You breathe shakily against him when you finally bring yourself to part your lips and he immediately begins to languidly lap into your mouth, drawing his arms around you; one finding the base of your neck as the other settles on your lower back, his fingers digging into your velvet dress, bunching up the fabric enough to reveal the meat of your ass.

You both moan as though you’re already having sex, caught up in a tangle of limbs he tastes your mouth as though it were sweet wine; his tongue flicks against your own before pulling back, lapping at your lip, pushing back in in some steady repetition that makes your knees weaker. Your hands find the hem of his tunic, slipping beneath it to feel a wall of muscle layered over his abdomen and he groans into the kiss with such fervor you would think he’s already come. He tears the cloth off the second you thumb over his nipple and drops to his knees clutching at your thighs.

“I need to taste you.” He sounds so desperate, looks so pitiful as though he’ll cry if you don’t allow him to fuck you with his tongue. You’re too far gone to give him anything more than a nod, and he all-too-readily lifts the skirt of your dress, hooks his finger around the seat of your panties and buries his face between your thighs. The first sweeps of his tongue are almost punishing; he wastes no time plowing the muscle into your cunt, writhing and grinding it against your velvety walls. The sound is already obscene, but then he begins to moan.

He sounds even more desperate than those nights in his lonely room, somehow, as he paws at his own erection straining against his trousers and drives into your pussy at a feverish pace. When he finally moves to take your clit between his lips, you grasp at the top of his head to keep yourself upright, moaning so loudly you’re certain that the entire kingdom could hear. He hums, amused at this, places his hands on your ass and pushes your hips for you to grind against his tongue.

When he jerks your panties aside again to rub circles against your asshole, the tautly pulled coil inside of you finally snaps. You curl over him as you mewl, cradling his head as his tongue pushes against your labia and your slit to lap up every bit of your essence. He releases his grip on your ass as you tremble, strokes himself freely below you as he pants against your pulsing cunt. Graciously, he gives you a moment to recover before he’s rising to his feet, tearing off your ruined panties and lifting you in his arms just enough to rub his leaking tip against you, you give him a strangled cry of his name when his length brushes against your swollen clit.

“Let me fuck you,” he rasps, his eyes wide and pupils blown as you squirm in his arms. “Bitte. Please. Let me fuck you.”

“Yes— Please, please fuck me König,” you whine as your arms curl over his shoulders. He doesn’t hesitate when he lies you back against your rug and pushes your knees up to your chest. His fingers flex against your flesh at the sight of your pussy still twitching from aftershocks, soaked down to your ass and pleading to be filled by him. He drops a hand to spread your lips, groaning deeply from his chest as he watches in awe as the tip of his thick cock sinks into you.

You hadn’t realized just how dirty König was until you see that look in his eye, pulling his head out only to repeatedly push into you with a choked whine of sheer bliss. You hadn’t realized how filthy you were until you find yourself tucking your arms beneath your knees to keep yourself in position so he can grope at the flesh of your ass as he does it.

“So— fuck— so schön,” he mutters as he continues to tease you like this. It’s almost hell the way he still hadn’t filled you entirely when you ache to have that long, ugly pillar buried so far it’s bruising your very womb, and it’s almost heaven the way you squeeze against him with each shallow thrust, your pussy desperate to devour his weapon of flesh.

“König…” You’re breathing his name as though it were a prayer, and as though a gift from the heavens his calloused thumb begins to rub over your clit the moment he finally sinks himself into you. There’s resistance, your cunt wasn’t meant to take a cock so large, you’re certain, but he bottoms out after what feels like an eternity, parts your knees with one hand to see your face as he gasps. You take him all, enveloping him in a vise grip and he hissed something in his native tongue, a string of words you can only imagine are praise because the way he’s looking at you now is as if he’s found a goddess all for himself.

“I’m going to fill you,” he declares as he lowers himself atop you, his weight almost crushing. “I’m going to… feels so…” His words fall short as he begins to move, groping at one of your tits as his other hand remains over your mound, flicking your clit. König’s fingers trace against your nipple before pinching it just hard enough to draw a choked mewl from you as your back arches. “Ja, liebling… you need it..”

His pace picks up, thumb deftly rolling over your clit until you spasm around his cock. It’s savage, the fervor he puts into fucking into you, grinding the tip of his cock against your cervix until you cry out, only to draw back enough to bully against your g-spot until you shiver. Your orgasm hits you so unexpectedly and so hard your bite down on your lip enough to draw blood. König licks at your mouth as your sex pulses around him, groaning in tandem with your pretty cries.

He trails small kisses along your throat before biting down as his own climax hits. He alternates between spitting out words that sound like pure venom and moans that make him sound weak as he gives you one more thrust. His cock twitches so violently inside of you as he presses against your cervix your mind entirely blanks. You can’t tell if it’s his semen or your own slick spilling past his cock, painting your thighs when it all ends. You hang limply against him as he carries you over to the chair, keeping you plugged as he pulls you into his lap.

He fully unclothes you as he peppers your face and neck in sweet, open-mouthed kisses, pets you from the crown of your skull down to your back, brings a hand around your waist to pull you close as his other squeezes and squishes at your breasts. König’s gaze is adoring as your eyes meet his, he’s looking at you with a love you’ve never even known, the warmth of summer somehow still present in those eyes like glaciers.

“Will you stay?,” you force yourself to ask as if the answer isn’t already clear, his cock’s still buried in you and the man seemed utterly in love after merely having a sweaty, adrenaline addled session.

König presses his face into your hair, nuzzling at you as he kisses your temple. “You want me to stay?” He sounds bewildered, so fucking broken that he’s confused by the prospect anyone would even want him around, even if he just gave her the best fuck she’s ever had, even if she’s been staring at him adoringly since he found his way to her door.

“Of course I want you to stay!”

“Then… Ja, I will.”

It’s a declaration of love, in a sense.

König drops his hands to your hips as he kisses you again. The desperation has been strangled, buried someplace in your core. It’s sweet now when his kisses become sloppy and overwhelming. He shifts below you as he maneuvers your hips to grind against him, his length already hardening within you again. He noses at your jaw and pressed kisses to your cheeks when you take a moment to breathe. You curl your arms around him and bury your face into the crook of his neck as your ride him, the both of you moaning soft and panting against sweaty flesh. He finishes inside of you once more just as you lift his veil and kiss along his scars.

He bathed you in the river, carrying you down to the rocky shore as though you were a treasure, his hand stroking through your hair as the water laps over your bodies. It’s not enough to simply hold you, either, because one bath becomes two after he’s bent you over a stump and licked you to completion again before rutting into you like an animal.

Nights are no longer spent with a wall between, he takes to your bed without question, ensures you’re comfortable and warm as he holds you through the night. There’s a sort of desperation in you both, two outsiders that have finally found sanctuary in one another.

“I love you.” Followed by: “I love you.”

You’re not entirely sure who says it first.

— — —

“A deer?”

There’s a man in your home that you don’t recognize, looking you over as though you were well-bred cattle rather than a human being at all. Says he’s concerned about a potential necromancer after something foul slipped its way past the castle walls and paraded itself through an annual ball, sullying a few too-expensive and uncomfortably layered dresses and goring a man with its antlers.

König was seated in front of him, rigid with a forced calm you had never seen on him before, hands clasped and unmoving. You know he’s nervous anyway, his shallow breathing speaks volumes for what the veil keeps from you. You round the table to bring them both tea, trying your best to play the part of indifference as the two men speak.

König had said he didn’t know how to make it go away, and of course he didn’t, because how do you kill something that’s already died? Neither of you would have anticipated it finding its way there of all places, and in retrospect, you’re not even certain that the thought came to mind at all, you had lost yourselves in one another the moment you arrived home. Seeing as you both were the only magic-touched folks roving these woods, it was obvious why The Guild had sent this creep to question you.

“Yes. A large buck, it was,” the man continues, winking at you as he takes a sip of the warm liquid in the mug. You wished you had poisoned it, ridding the world of a man that made your skin crawl like this surely wouldn’t be too sinful. Looking to König, you realize that there’s no need for poisons, because the look in his eyes suggests that before this interrogation is over your rug will have a more stubborn stain than spilled potions and come.

“We use green magic,” you chime in flatly, giving König a moment to quiet his fury as the man turns his attention back to you. “Maybe a traveler slipped into the kingdom, it has nothing to do with König and myself. Why are you here?”

If he hadn’t already told you a thousand times earlier that morning when he took you in the garden, laid you down in a bed of blue and purple wildflowers, König would have told you he loved you right then. You were true, protecting him and risking your own head as well.

“That’s the thing,” the man begins with a laugh entirely devoid of amusement. “Your apprentice here was under similar scrutiny while he was in service to the king. A dead man brought back to life…” he waves his hand as he speaks, staring up at the ceiling as though he’s recounting poetry instead of listing the reasoning why he wanted to have your lover decapitated. “… killed ten good knights. We never suspected him at the time, but all of this…” He shrugs his shoulders and raises his brow, looking somehow even more insufferable than before.

You cross the room to gather the letter signed off by The Guild, detailing your apprentice’s arrival and thrust it into the man’s face. “He would have never passed any sort of eligibility exam if that were the case, and you sent him here.”

The man takes the letter with a click of his tongue before he laughs again. “We didn’t,” he says as he taps the signature at the bottom, hardly a signature at all, only a messy scrawl, the guild master’s name even spelled incorrectly.

König didn’t meet your gaze when you looked to him then.

You made a promise to him you would figure this all out, and you would. You just needed to buy some time, slip some wolfsbane into his tea—

“On behalf of The Guild, I do apologize for the trouble this monster has caused…”

There is no time.

“I’ll be sure that he and his rotting pets are disposed of prop—“

You’re clutching at the dagger König had left on the side table without even thinking it over, fingers curled so tightly around the grip, your knuckles felt alight. The man’s voice is silenced the moment he notices as he takes a wary step away from you. It’s not, really, that you could ever even see yourself taking a life, you never have, but the thought of losing König over a horrible chance in the stars that some uncaring god cursed him with makes bile crawl up the back of your throat and white hot fury course through your veins with all the subtlety of a stampede.

It wasn’t his fault.

König places himself between the two of you and curls his arm around you protectively. If lying for him hadn’t already resigned you to the same fate, drawing the dagger assuredly had. He gently pries the dagger from your hand and tucks your face against his chest, just as he had before when he tried to correct the accidental gift of life he had bestowed to the deer, only this time… you feel the pull of his muscles, you hear sounds of the dagger meeting it’s mark as he cuts through the interrogator’s tender flesh. It takes mere seconds for you to know his blade has struck true, the dying man eliciting a weak gurgling cry from his torn throat as König drops the dagger to the floor with a clatter and strokes your hair.

He makes you stand outside while he cleans up his mess.

A sane woman would run, she would count her losses and look back on her time spent with this unhinged man with criticism. You find that you are not a sane woman when you realize the tears falling freely down your cheeks are not of fear or anger at your own situation, but at the knowledge that he’s suffered being shunned on his own for so long; that he’s killed without remorse because this is what it takes for someone like him to survive at all.

When he finally returns from burying the body and scrubbing the blood from your floor, you readily embrace him and he nuzzles into your hair.

“Es tut mir leid,” he huffs out against you, pulling you so close to him you think, pray, he’ll never let go. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” It’s not and you both know it, but you reassure him with your words and soft kisses to his cheeks as he wipes away your tears. “We can not stay here.”

We. Us. Together.

Something breaks in him at your words, and he shuts his eyes tightly to fight back the tears like claws at his eyes.

“So, tell me where we’ll go.”

He tells you of a place he read about in a book, somewhere across the sea and past a stretch of hills where the accidents he may cause won’t have him looked upon like a monster, where you can love one another in comfort, a place he’s dreamed about since he was a boy and found out just what he was when he reanimated his mother’s beloved cat. He tells you of his father’s cruelty, that a cat’s claws aren’t the only thing that’s left him riddled with scar tissue.

He tells you everything as you pack your things and begin a long walk to a shoddy harbor by the sea, his hand in your own as your board the ship to a new home, a new beginning.

#könig #konig #konig x you #könig x you #könig x reader #konig x reader #konig fanfiction #cod fanfic #könig fanfiction #cod fanfiction

[natsaffection]

Kingdom of Secrets | Prologue | N. Romanoff

Knight!Natasha x younger!princess!Reader

MINOR DNI!! (18+!)

warnings: age gap (Natasha is 16 when she comes to the palace and the reader is 4 years old. At the end of this chapter Natasha is 33 and reader 21) fingering, begging, crying

word count: 4,5k

A/n: welcome to the prologue of Kingdom of Secrets! (Yes the title has a meaning) This is just the opening chapter. So it's not the first real part. It cost me already tears because I wanted it to come across the way people spoke back in the Middle Ages..so please give feedback!🫂

In the heart of the great kingdom of Celestria, where emerald fields stretch as far as the eye can see and spires kiss the sky, there was great anticipation in the royal court. King Alistair and Queen Seraphina Dawn, the beloved rulers of the realm, had long yearned for an heir to carry on the legacy of their noble lineage. The palace echoed with the whispers of courtiers as news spread of a momentous event.

Queen Seraphina was expecting a child.

Months passed, each one accompanied by prayers and whispered hopes echoing through the halls of the palace. The kingdom collectively held its breath, waiting for the joyous news that would bring new life to the royal family. The gardens adorned with blooming flowers bore witness to the ebb and flow of the seasons, reflecting the anticipation within the palace walls.

And then, as the golden colors of autumn tinged the landscape, the long-awaited moment arrived. Like a melody of hope, the announcement resounded through the kingdom and spread from town to town. Queen Seraphina had given birth to a daughter, a shining beacon of joy in the embrace of her parents' love.

The kingdom erupted in jubilation. Banners swayed in the fresh breeze, their colors dancing to the rhythm of the joy that flowed through the streets. The citizens rushed to the gates of the palace in their finest clothes to join in the royal rejoicing. The sweet scent of flowers was in the air and the distant sounds of musicians tuning their instruments heralded the great celebrations to come.

Inside the palace, the little princess lay in her mother's arms, wrapped in a tapestry of delicate silk. Queen Seraphina's eyes, glistening with tears of happiness, met King Alistair's gaze, a silent exchange that spoke volumes about the unspoken journey they had traveled to reach this blessed moment.

As the sun sank below the horizon, the palace gates opened to welcome the many well-wishers. The Great Hall, decorated with golden tapestries and crystal chandeliers, shone in the light of a thousand candles. Laughter and chatter filled the air as nobles, commoners and dignitaries alike joined in the celebration.

In the midst of this splendor, the little princess lay in her crib, surrounded by a symphony of admiration. Her tiny fingers, like rose petals, grasped at the air as if reaching for the love that surrounded her. The flickering candlelight painted her delicate features and cast a warm, ethereal glow on her.

Y/n, as she would later be called, became the beacon of hope that united the kingdom. Her laughter echoed through the palace like silver bells, eliciting smiles from all who basked in her innocent radiance. The court musicians, attuned to the heartbeat of the celebration, played melodies that blended with the collective heartbeat of the kingdom, a harmonious testament to the unity created by the birth of the princess.

Over the years, the princess's birthdays became a cherished tradition. The kingdom celebrated with greater fervor each year, turning the anniversary of her birth into a grand spectacle. The gardens, where once the whispers of anticipation could be heard, now bloomed in vibrant colors that reflected the princess's exuberant spirit.On her birthdays, the people of Celestria gathered to honor their beloved princess. The streets were lined with stalls selling sweet treats and enchanting trinkets. Musicians played lilting melodies and performers brought fairy tales to life through dance and theater. But amidst the splendor, it was Y/n herself who was in the spotlight.

Her laughter, the elixir that had breathed life into the kingdom years ago, echoed through the air. The joy that emanated from her was infectious and transformed the celebration into a mosaic of smiles and shared happiness. Y/n had become the living embodiment of the kingdom's dreams with her sparkling eyes and a heart full of kindness.

As Y/n grew, so did the kingdom around her. The once silent halls of the palace echoed with the footsteps of a vibrant princess whose spirit danced like the sunlight that fell through the leaves. She became a symbol of hope, bridging the realms of royalty and commonality - a beacon of unity for a kingdom that had waited with bated breath for her arrival.

And so, under the golden skies of Celestria, the royal court and citizens celebrated the birth of their princess, whose laughter echoed throughout the kingdom, mingling with the melodies of joy that had marked her grand entrance into the world.

But a shadowy group lurked in the hidden corridors beneath the splendor of the kingdom. Unseen and unheard, this gang shrouded in mystery plotted insidiously to infiltrate the royal house.

In the dimly lit chamber adorned with ancient symbols, the agents of the group - Shadows of Darkness - received a chilling instruction. The leaders, shrouded in the cloak of shadows, readjusted their strategy. Princess Y/n, an unforeseen variable, demanded an adjustment to their malevolent plans.

As Y/n's laughter rang through the palace, the group's secret game unfolded on an invisible chessboard. The birth of the princess upset their carefully laid plans and brought an element of unpredictability into play. Beneath the surface of the festivities, a calculated dance played out, where joyful echoes collided with the malice lurking in the shadows. Citizens and royalty revelled in blissful ignorance, unaware of the ominous threat lurking in the hidden corners of the palace. A dangerous dance began. One in which the laughter of a princess served as an eerie soundtrack to a covert operation that would reshape Celestria's destiny.

As daylight bathed the kingdom in golden hues, the shadowy group moved in secrecy. Their ominous influence extended to unsuspecting future queens. The dark puppet, manipulated by unseen hands, infiltrated the royal court and left a menacing presence.

The king, who had followers in every country, became aware of the terrifying power. Fearing for his family and the future of his country, he had his troops strengthened and also looked for a guardian for his daughter. So he spread the word throughout the country that a tournament was to be held in the late evening and that the bravest and strongest fighters were to take part.The anticipation of the great tournament was in the air that day. The king, seeking the perfect protector for his most precious treasure, gathered warriors from faraway lands. Men vying for the honor of protecting the jewel of the realm presented themselves in the arena.

The tournament, a spectacle of skill and courage, began with the clash of swords and the thundering hooves of warhorses. Knights from all corners of the realm showcased their skills, a dance of blades played out under the watchful eyes of the royal court.

As the dust settled and countless fighters succumbed to the skill of their opponents, there was a quiet tension among the spectators. The king, seated on his magnificent throne, surveyed the remaining warriors, his keen eyes searching for the one who would serve as a shield against the impending danger to the princess. Then, amidst the remaining fighters, a lone, young figure emerged, clad in armor that seemed to absorb the essence of the shadows. The air fell silent as this knight stepped forward, exuding an aura of fear and admiration. A murmur went through the audience, a collective acknowledgement that a formidable force had entered the arena.

The king, mesmerized and wary, leaned forward in his throne, a silent question etched on his regal countenance. "Tell me, what is a child doing on the field?" he asked his 1st in command. He bowed to his king, "Forgive me, my majesty, but you emphasized that the gates were open to anyone carrying a sword." The king forced the moment back into his mind and now looked further down, at the person.

At that very moment, the mysterious knight removed the helmet, revealing a cascade of fiery red hair framing a face marked by the scars of countless battles. Her piercing gaze, a mixture of steel and determination, met the king's eyes with an unwavering intensity. A murmur went through the hall as the realization set in. "Lady, Natalia Alianovna Romanoff," someone breathed, the name inspiring both awe and fear. As the first young woman to be knighted, Natasha was widely known, and her accomplishments on the battlefield were whispered about in saintly tones. The king, who also learned of her presence, widened his eyes.

As she approached the king, Natasha dropped to one knee, a sign of respect and submission. Her armor bore the marks of countless victories, and the sword at her side was a testament to her skill as a warrior.

"Your Majesty," Natasha's voice, a symphony of authority and humility, echoed through the arena. "I am Natalia Alianovna Romanoff, sworn to protect those deemed worthy of the Empire's protection. I offer my skills and loyalty to defend your princess, the jewel of Celestria." The king, observing the steely determination in Natasha's eyes, pondered her words. Isn't she too young to be a knight? Presently good..She could form a bond with Y/n. He thought.

The court remained in a collective breathless pause, awaiting the monarch's decision. After a moment's thought, the king nodded, a gesture that echoed through the arena like a decree.

"Lady Natasha Romanoff, rise. You have proven that you are an excellent Fighter. May the realm be witness to your service as my daughter's protector."

The crowd erupted in a mixture of cheers and whispers in appreciation of the gravity of the moment. Natasha rose from her knees and hid her features behind her helmet again. With measured steps, she returned to the ranks of the assembled knights, her presence leaving an indelible impression on the tournament and setting the stage for a new chapter in the kingdom's saga. Since then, the unique bond between the young princess and the fearless knight began to grow. Y/n, a little bundle of joyful energy, zoomed through the flowerbeds. "Tasha, look, I can fly!" she cried, spreading her tiny arms. Natasha, with a smile on her lips, leaned down. "Really? Show me, little whirlwind." And chase her through the field.

"Tasha, why are you so strong?" asked Y/n three years later, while they were playing in the halls. Natasha, with a mischievous smile, replied, "Strength comes not only from muscles, but also from courage and determination, my Princess."

The royal parents, from their thrones, watched the scene with warm smiles. "Look how Natasha is teaching our daughter," said the queen. The king nodded proudly. "A bond strengthened not only by duty, but also by the heart..I could not have chosen anyone better."

In the shelter of the pavilion, Y/n and Natasha talked about the years of shared experiences. "Promise me, Natasha, that you will always be by my side," Natasha, serious yet tender, replied, "As long as I breathe, I will watch over you, Princess."

Over the years, not only did Y/n grow up, but so did the love between her and Natasha. Adventures together, laughter and tears formed a bond that blurred the boundaries between princess and protector.

At the age of 20, Y/n found herself in the midst of an inner turmoil. The years had passed since Natasha had taken up residence as her protector, and a subtle change was creeping into the princess's mind.

In the quiet moments when the sun slowly disappeared behind the palace walls, Y/n discovered a growing urge to seek Natasha's closeness. Every look from the knightess, every gentle touch, seemed to break through an invisible barrier within Y/n.

The glances Natasha cast across the ballroom as they shared in royal festivities carried a deeper meaning. Y/n recognized the warmth in Natasha's eyes, which came not only from her proximity to the king, but betrayed something more intimate. Uncertainty gnawed at Y/n as she thought about these growing feelings. Society, royal expectations, all created a veil that kept her growing affection for Natasha hidden.

The Royal Mother observed the subtle changes in Y/n's behavior, but the secret remained hidden between the lines. Y/n felt her heart beat faster when she faced Natasha, and the soft sighs that escaped her were carried on the winds of fate.

One day, Natasha, bathed in sweat from the rigorous training session, gracefully moved through the courtyard, effortlessly wrestling each knight that dared to cross her path to the ground. As Y/n strolled through the palace, she unexpectedly caught sight of Natasha in action, sans her usual formidable armor.

Mesmerized by the raw power and agility on display, Yn found it challenging to look away. Natasha's every move seemed like a choreographed dance of strength and finesse. It was the first time Y/n had seen her like this, vulnerable yet invincible

Natasha, engrossed in her sparring session, sensed Y/n's eyes on her. Mid-wrestle with one of the knights, she subtly shifted her gaze to meet Y/n's, exhaling almost imperceptibly. In that brief connection, Natasha's intense focus softened, and a ghost of a smile played on her lips, as if she had caught Y/n in the act.

Y/n, startled by Natasha's awareness, quickly averted her gaze, pretending to be absorbed in the palace architecture. The blush on her cheeks, however, betrayed her attempt to conceal the intrigue Natasha's athleticism had sparked.

She continued her training, each movement deliberate and powerful. Y/n, despite her efforts to remain discreet, stole occasional glances, hoping Natasha wouldn't notice..

When a maid approached, unaware of the silent exchange, Y/n stammered, "I-I was just, you know, walking around," as she tried to divert attention from the fact that Natasha had momentarily captured her focus. Natasha, still engaged in her training, shot Y/n a knowing look, her eyes betraying a hint of amusement, silently acknowledging the unspoken connection while respecting Y/n's attempt to keep her feelings concealed.

Several hours passed, and Y/n immersed herself in the demands of royal duties. As she diligently attended to matters within the palace, she couldn't shake the memory of Natasha's training session. Much to her surprise, as she returned to the main hall, there was Natasha, seamlessly transitioning from warrior to protector, resuming her role by Y/n's side.

Their eyes met once again, and this time Natasha's expression spoke volumes. A playful glint in her eyes suggested a shared secret, referencing the earlier stolen glances. Y/n couldn't help but smile in response, a subtle acknowledgment of the connection they had formed.

Weeks later when the moon towered over Celestria, Y/n dared a tentative look into Natasha's eyes. It was as if the universe melded their souls together, and in that moment, Y/n knew it was more than mere reverence for the brave knight. The realization that her heart was following a path of love was like the blossoming of a delicate flower within her. But the world she lived in demanded secrecy - a love that blossomed in the shadow of royal duties.

Another year passed and Y/n's duties to the throne drew ever closer. Her parents now saw her as an adult woman who would later rule the people. However, this could not be done alone and the time had come to find a suitable mate. So they embarked on various journeys to neighboring countries to consider their princes and princesses. A point Y/n is proud to show. With all the fuss she secretly has about Natasha, her eyes opened to another part.

It was a sunny day when the royal family were visiting another kingdom. The family was welcomed with joy. But the festive atmosphere was pervaded by an underlying tension. As Y/n strode through the hall in royal garb, she was swarmed by the polite remarks and advances of the foreign prince. The looks he gave her were full of obvious interest, and the smile on his lips betrayed intentions that went beyond polite courtesies.

Natasha, standing in her imposing armor alongside the royal family, felt a flame of jealousy flare up inside her. Every passionate look, every touched hand, felt like a stab in her chest. In a quiet moment, when the prince engaged Y/n in a private conversation, Natasha could hardly bear the sight. Her hands clenched into fists as she inwardly fought back the burning sting of jealousy.

Finally, the festive gathering broke up and the royal family returned to their chambers. The opulent chambers of Y/n awoke to the pale glow of candles as the evening shrouded the royal estate in an atmosphere of twilight. The prince, wearing a polite facade, had made his intentions clear. But Natasha sensed the unease in the air. When the prince attempted to cross the boundaries of politeness and seek out Y/n in her chambers, Natasha turned cold as ice. Her eyes, normally as impenetrable as the darkness, bore into the young nobleman. Without a word, her gaze spoke volumes, and the prince retreated as if he had entered an invisible barrier.

When Natasha entered Y/n's chamber, the discomfort was reflected on Y/n's face. "Thank you.. I was so uncomfortable, but I didn't mean to be rude," Y/n murmured, her voice low in the intimate atmosphere. Natasha stepped closer, her touch cooler than the night breeze blowing through the open window. "My princess, you never have to compromise for politeness."

In a calculated move that blurred the line between protector and seductress, Natasha lifted Y/n's hand and stroked her fingertips over the delicate skin. "Don't let anyone enter your world if you don't want them to. You deserve respect and so much more."

The darkness of the room seemed to tighten around the two of them as Natasha continued, intensifying her own touch. "And maybe, there is someone..who is willing to go deeper than politeness allows."

The words echoed between the walls as the coolness of the night turned into a dance of desire. Y/n sensed the play of shadows as Natasha, took on the role of seductress. A passionate revelation that in the twilight of her chambers revealed a connection that transcended the duties of the royal hall.

The room lost its dimensions in darkness as Natasha and Y/n were caught in a mesmerizing dance of tension. Y/n's heartbeat quickened as Natasha's words sounded like a breath in the night, a promise that implied more than it stated. "Natasha, I don't know what you mean..." whispered Y/n, her voice caught between curiosity and an underlying desire that lingered in the air. Natasha stepped closer, her gaze like the dark veil of night that hid everything and yet revealed everything. "I speak of desire that goes deeper than any protocol that exists within the walls of a palace."

The atmosphere thickened as Natasha began to loosen Y/n's royal robes with deft fingers. "You can feel it, can't you? This suppressed energy between us. It's time to explore the shadows that lurk in the corners of our connection."

Y/n's breathing quickened as the warmth of Natasha's hands touched her skin. A mixture of fear and desire flickered in her eyes as she embraced the unknown.

"N-Natasha, I... Is this right?" asked Y/n, but her reticence was swallowed up by the darkness.

Natasha replied with a cool smile that betrayed a deep, hidden passion. "Right or wrong, Y/n, does not exist in this world of shadows. There is only what you desire and what you are willing to experience." The air between them was charged as Natasha gently placed her lips on Y/n's. A passionate kiss that burned down the blurred lines between duty and desire. Still, Natasha paused for a moment and looked her princess in the eye, “I notice your looks, your breath when I sneak up on you..you’re begging when I retreat to my chambers..” Natasha pushed the princess onto the bed. The redhead had Y/n's legs wide open. Open for her to devour.

Natasha licked her lips, staring at Y/n's underwear, a hungry look in her mouth. Y/n still felt the slight urge to protest. What is she doing here? What happens if her parents find out about this? Are they allowed-

But all words of resistance melted into a moan in her mouth as Natasha opened her entrance with her tongue. She lay down in front of Y/n, lifting the princess's legs by her thighs onto her shoulders. Natasha's tongue turned her princess's moans into groans and then shouts of ecstasy. After tasting Y/n for long enough, Natasha lifted her head. Her mouth was covered in Y/n's fluid, giving her face a glow that Y/n found simply intoxicating.

"How are you feeling? Can I continue?" Natasha's eyes widened as she saw the sight of her ruler. Spread wide and with her hands clenched in the pillows, "K-Keep going please..” Natasha smiled and climbed up to Y/n to take off her dress and while she undressed Y/n, Natasha kissed Y/n and she tasted herself on her lips. Without breaking the kiss, Natasha inserted two of her fingers into Y/n. In response, the young princess let out a deep moan into Natasha's mouth as she slowly penetrated her. As Natasha alternated between driving her index and middle fingers in and out of Y/n's cavity, Y/n was disturbed by the amount of armor Natasha still had on and set about removing it.

Natasha smirked again as she realized what Y/n's plans were and sat back up, "You could have asked, my highness..." Y/n's eyes were wide as she watched Natasha remove every single piece of metal from her body. Eventually it just tinkled on the floor and Natasha stood before her in a white shirt. She wasted no more time and pounced on the young girl again.

"What do you want me to do, princess?" Natasha now asked, breathing in unison with her aroused ruler. She had already slipped a hand between Y/n's thighs and was leaning on her shorts. Y/n knew what Natasha wanted to hear. "Please.." she begged, "fuck me." Natasha watched Y/n's flushed face. It was so, so lewd. This time, however, Natasha stroked a finger over the edge of her labia and felt how far the wetness had spread.

"You really want it, don't you?" said Natasha with a hint of smugness in her voice. Y/n knew it wasn't to humiliate her, but rather to increase her sense of exposure.

Yes, I really fucking want it, Y/n wanted to say, but managed to hold back. Natasha, however, didn't miss the look on her face before she leaned in and slowly kissed Y/n again. She began to run her fingers up and down the wetness between Y/n's legs, stroking slowly and rhythmically.

Y/n held back any sound that wanted to come out of her mouth, knowing there was more to come. A touch slipped past a certain spot so briefly and lightly that Y/n's body flinched in response. Natasha had to keep her senses together, just a little longer. The stroking and kissing gradually became faster, without either of them noticing against the backdrop of their growing arousal. Natasha's fingers were touching Y/n's clit more and more frequently now, and Y/n couldn't keep up, the tension between her legs growing and her mouth remaining slightly open.

"A-A-hh..." she gasped, and her body arched back more and more. She was crying out now, twisting and turning, her clit at the center of the movement, her hands wrapped around Y/ns, her face pressed into her shoulders, her upper body arched so that her breasts and erect nipples moved against Natasha's body in the same rhythm as the caresses between her thighs. "Nat-..Natasha...!" She cried out. "I'm... ah, I'm..."

Natasha kissed her neck in response and concentrated fully on bringing Y/n to climax. She wanted to hear her princess scream, to feel her thrusting against her body in a frenzy of pleasure. She wanted Y/n to lose all inhibitions and move against her hand like a horny slut. Y/n couldn't take it anymore. Her hips and buttocks began to move against Natasha, thrusting towards her with desire, begging her not to stop. It felt so dirty to cooperate and beg so earnestly, but Y/n didn't care about any of it. Natasha moaned along with Y/n and couldn't hold back either after listening to Y/n feel this way about her.

“Cum for me.”

When Y/n heard Natasha's soft and loving voice moaning like that, she shook with pleasure. Her mind went blank. The room disappeared, the bed vanished. The world consisted only of her body, which contracted and pulsated to release all its pent-up arousal in one go. Y/n didn't know how much time had passed while she trembled and shook and moaned, even though she didn't want to. All she knew was that Natasha had been holding her the whole time and watched every single facial feature of her beloved princess.

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TAGLIST: @taliiiaasteria @natty-taffy @natashaswife4125 @lifebyinez @aemilia19 @natwifesblog @clearcoloredlenses @ragoshmog @eringranola

#natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha smut #natasha romanov x reader #dom!natasha x reader #nat x reader #natasha romanov smut #natasha romonova #the avengers #natasha

[dvrk-moon]

ENHYPEN OT7 ; 엔하이픈

PLAYING MINECRAFT WITH THEM

requested : no

genre : crack, fluff

pairing : enhypen x reader (can be platonic)

warnings : cursing + the members being menaces

heeseung ; 희승

absolute sweat

like speed runner esque

nags on you for being too slow and making him have a speed run time of over fifteen minutes

like you’re barely getting an oak log and he’s already in the nether. like u turn away for two seconds and he’s already built the portal

“heeseung where did you go” “i’ve almost killed the wither wait” … “CAN U CHILL OUT WE JUST CREATED THIS WORLD”

so u thought u were gonna have fun hanging out with heeseung on minecraft? NO

because as soon as he finishes his speed run and you finally got your first diamond, he’s decided to build a base

and u thought he was gonna be all cute and make u a room awwww!!! no.

he does make u a room, but the stairway up to ur room is a parkour course

(when the fuck did he have time to even make that?!!?!!)

first and last time playing minecraft with him

jay ; 제이

absolute knight in shining armor

literally

those mobs have nothing on his iron drip

protects u even if u don’t need it

“oh shit there’s a creeper” “ON MY WAY Y/N”

his netherite sword is CRACKED. like perfect enchantments

when he’s not protecting u he becomes ur farmer

the farm is so organized and beautiful jay is literally my husband pls

does in fact laugh when u die tho

like he’ll collect your stuff for you but the second he sees “[your gamertag] fell from a high place” he’s going to laugh for like two minutes straight

also he keeps an extra chest in his room for u

like in case u need something OR u die and he’s not able to collect ur stuff so it despawns

jay is so husband. even in minecraft

jake ; 제이크

he’s played before ok (trust him)

(it was when he was like nine)

like he’s very very. bad

he’s trying tho!!!

keeps dying. like every two minutes you see “jake_awesome2002 was blown up by a creeper”

he does not know how to change his gamertag so ur just stuck playing with jake_awesome2002

he starts getting the hang of it and immediately thinks he’s cracked at the game (he’s not)

so he disappears from you out of nowhere and so you try to help him :

“jake where are you” … “jake” … “jake sim where the fuck are you” …………. “i don’t know”

(cue “jake_awesome2002 fell out of the world”)

“JAKE HOW DID YOU FALL OUT OF THE WORLD” “I DONT KNOW”

he respawns and like sulks for three minutes before leaving and collecting dirt(?) for some reason

coincidentally you keep finding dirt blocks placed throughout your base afterwards! how silly of him!

sunghoon ; 성훈

he was so ready to show u how good he is

he’s not very good. but at least he’s better than jake!

he somehow is always in a cave or some sort of dangerous location

like say u found a village and you’re like “sunghoon come raid this village with me!”

meanwhile he’s trying not to die because of a pillager outpost

somehow he doesn’t?

he’ll go and do stuff like that or spend days in the nether and survive but his weakness is witches

like he doesn’t scream UNLESS there is a witch

and if you’re nearby ? he will 100% sacrifice you to the witch so that he can survive

womp womp

he actually sacrifices you quite a bit because he has like 36 levels

he thinks he’s funny when he does it too

sunoo ; 선우

honestly prefers to play in creative mode (me too sunoo)

but when you were like “let’s play in survival for once” he’s like “fiiiiiiiiinneeeeeuhhhh” (very dramatic about it)

he immediately builds a forever base when you spawn in

makes you do all the mining and stuff

he will tag along! but he won’t do shit

he’s the interior designer. he’s got bigger and better things to do

he only redeems himself when you go into the base and find your minecraft beds right next to each other

besides holding the house down, he also has an extremely high scale and successful farming system

so if you ever check in his chests, 100% you will find like 20 stacks of wood, stacks of wheat, of carrots, of beets, etc.

may be a homebody in minecraft but at least he’s fun to play with !!!! 10/10 would recommend to a friend

jungwon ; 정원

the miner

like you’re trying to get along with your day until jungwon stops and drops into the smallest cave ever

“what are u doing” “wait y/n we might need this copper” “jungwon don’t u already have like three stacks of copper” “yeah but we might need it”

lots of time spent mining

u eat your words tho when he is decked out in diamond armor from almost the get-go

when you guys build a base it HAS to have a little mine under the house (little as in huge)

somehow has like ten dogs?

“this one is maeumi, this one is maeumi’s friend, this once can be gaeul… maybe this one can be layla? oh! and this one is maeumi’s other friend. this one is bisco. this one is yours but you don’t get to name it. i will name it for you.”

they would be cats if it was really up to you but you’ll live

also refuses to elaborate on this thing he does

he makes tons and tons of signs and just places them around the base

some of them make sense and others just don’t at all

has a 2x2 fenced in area and the sign outside of it says “jail”

has anyone ever been sent to jail there? no. but as jungwon says “just in case”

riki ; 니키

possibly the worst yet most fun person to play with

at first you’re like “let’s play together” and he’s like “yeah sure whatever” but little do u know he has every plan in the world to turn the game into warfare

it’s even worse if you are playing on a realm rather than just a server

he abandons you from the get-go and immediately runs away and you can’t catch him so he builds a base far away from you

the base is in fact a dirt house

but it’s minecraft who said he had to be an architect

yes he abandoned you and is regularly attacking you at any given chance but he still keeps his tabs on where you are

walks all over your farm and kills your livestock

leaves signs saying “riki was here” “get rikrolled”

since he keeps tabs on you, u have to be very cautious of what you leave in your chests

he will steal anything. just for fun

threatens to blow up everything because he just wants to

little does he know if he wants warfare ur gonna give him warfare

a/n : this is random but i played mc like two days ago and i thought this could be a silly idea

#enhypen #enhypen drabbles #enhypen reactions #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x y/n #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fanfics #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen x you #enhypen headcanons #enhypen crack #enhypen fluff #heeseung #heeseung x reader #enhypen jay #enhypen jay x reader #enhypen jake #enhypen jake x reader #sunghoon #sunghoon x reader #sunoo #sunoo x reader #jungwon #jungwon x reader #ni ki #ni ki x reader #dvrk moon

[valaenatargaryensdragon]

Whispers of Desire

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x twin!reader

summary: Finally betrothed, the twins are more than happy.

Word count: 2,9K

Warnings: smut, P in V, Daddy kink, Orgasm denial

The Red Keep in King’s Landing stood as a majestic backdrop to the grand feast held in honor of the engagement between Aemond Targaryen and his twin sister, Aerra. The Great Hall was resplendent with crimson and gold decorations, echoing the colors of their House. Lords and ladies from across the Seven Kingdoms had gathered to celebrate this momentous occasion.

Aerra, the lively and effervescent twin, was at the heart of the festivities, as always. Her fiery charisma and vivacity had the guests enthralled. She moved gracefully through the hall, engaging in lively conversations, twirling on the dance floor, and enchanting all who crossed her path.

Aemond, on the other hand, couldn’t hide the green-eyed monster that had taken root within him. He watched as Aerra shared laughter and danced with lords and knights, and a deep sense of jealousy consumed him. His martial prowess and fierce determination had earned him respect, but tonight, it felt as if all eyes were on his sister.

Rhaenyra, their elder sister, noticed Aemond’s growing frustration. She excused herself from her own admirers and approached him. “Aemond, you seem troubled. Is something amiss?”

He sighed, his violet eyes betraying his inner turmoil. “Rhaenyra, I can’t help but be jealous of Aerra. It feels as if I’m always in her shadow.”

Rhaenyra placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Aemond, jealousy is a dangerous beast. Remember that Aerra’s light does not diminish yours. You are both unique, with strengths that complement each other. While she shines in the spotlight, your strength is the shield that protects our family.”

Aemond’s gaze softened, and he nodded in acknowledgment. “You’re right, Rhaenyra. I should be happy for her. It’s just that… I’ve always felt the weight of our family’s expectations.”

Rhaenyra smiled warmly. “We all do, dear brother. But together, as Targaryens, we are stronger. Our bond is unbreakable, and we support each other through every challenge.”

As they returned to the feast, Aemond’s jealousy gave way to a newfound appreciation for his sister’s charisma and an understanding that their unity was their greatest strength. The celebration continued with renewed joy and harmony, showcasing the resilience and power of House Targaryen within the hallowed halls of the Red Keep.

The Red Keep’s Great Hall buzzed with merriment as Aerra danced with several lords who had come to celebrate her engagement. Her laughter rang out like music, drawing the attention of everyone present. She moved gracefully from one partner to another, her vibrant presence captivating them all.

Aemond, watching from a distance, couldn’t shake the growing unease that gnawed at him. As he saw lords vying for Aerra’s attention on the dance floor, jealousy flared within him. He had always been fiercely protective of his twin sister, and the thought of sharing her with others grated on him.

Unable to contain his emotions any longer, Aemond left his spot and approached the dance floor. His commanding presence was undeniable, and the lords who had been dancing with Aerra took a step back, yielding the floor to him.

Without a word, Aemond extended his hand to Aerra, his violet eyes locked onto hers. “May I have this dance, sister?”

Aerra’s sapphire eyes widened in surprise, but she accepted his hand with a smile. They moved onto the dance floor, and as the music swayed around them, their movements became a silent conversation of emotions.

As Aemond and Aerra danced together, the tension between them crackled like wildfire. The music’s sultry rhythm seemed to mirror the heat that had built up between the twins. Their bodies moved in sync, but their words were laced with desire and jealousy.

“Aerra,” Aemond purred, his voice low and seductive, “you’re quite the enchantress tonight. You revel in the attention, don’t you?”

Aerra’s sapphire eyes darkened with a mix of emotions, her pulse quickening at her brother’s provocative tone. She leaned in closer, her voice a sensuous whisper, “Why, Aemond, jealous, are we? Perhaps you’re just not used to sharing.”

Aemond’s jealousy had given way to a more primal desire, and he pulled Aerra even closer, their bodies pressed together in an intimate embrace. “Sharing is not something I’m accustomed to, especially when it comes to you.”

Aerra’s laughter was a seductive melody in his ear. “Oh, Aemond, there’s no need to be possessive. I’m yours, always.”

Their dance became a provocative battle of wills, a dance of desire and longing. Aemond’s jealousy had transformed into a heated passion, and as the night wore on, they continued to dance, their movements filled with sensual tension and unspoken promises.

Their hearts racing with a mix of excitement and forbidden desire, managed to slip away from the raucous feast unnoticed. The castle’s winding corridors provided cover for their secret escape.

Aerra couldn’t contain her giggles, the thrill of their clandestine rendezvous making her feel like a teenager in love. She tugged at Aemond’s hand, urging him further into the shadows.

Aemond, usually so stern and composed, had a rare hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. The tension that had consumed him earlier had given way to the intoxicating anticipation of what was to come. He pushed Aerra gently against the wall, their bodies pressed close, and his lips descended to meet hers.

The kiss was tender yet filled with an intensity that had simmered beneath the surface all night. Aerra’s fingers tangled in Aemond’s platinum blonde locks as she deepened the kiss, their tongues dancing in a passionate, unspoken declaration of their desires.

Aemond’s hands explored her curves, their desire for each other burning brighter with each passing second. The abandoned hallway became their secret haven, a place where their love and longing could be expressed without restraint.

As the kiss deepened, Aerra pulled away slightly, her breath coming in heavy, ragged gasps. She looked into Aemond’s eyes, her voice barely above a whisper. “Aemond, I’ve always wanted you.”

Aemond’s response was a heated kiss, a promise that their secret rendezvous was only the beginning of a night filled with passion, desire, and the breaking of boundaries they had once thought were unbreakable.

Aemond’s kisses, like soft feathers, trailed down Aerra’s neck, igniting a passionate fire within her. Her body trembled with desire as his strong arms enveloped her waist, guiding her down the dimly lit corridor.

Lost in the intoxication of his touch, Aerra barely registered their surroundings. She allowed herself to be led by Aemond’s tender yet passionate ministrations, every kiss sending shivers down her spine.

As they reached a doorway, Aemond gently guided Aerra into the room. Her senses were overwhelmed by the pleasure of his kisses, and she remained blissfully unaware of their surroundings.

It was only when they were inside, and Aemond closed the door behind them with a soft click, that Aerra finally realized where they were. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she looked around to find herself standing in the small council meeting room of the Red Keep.

The room was dimly lit, with the long wooden table and high-backed chairs creating an unexpected backdrop for their passionate encounter. Aerra’s cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and desire as she met Aemond’s gaze.

Aemond, his own desire evident in his platinum blonde hair tousled from their passionate kisses, gave her a mischievous smile. “Well, it seems we’ve found an unexpected venue for our rendezvous.”

Aerra chuckled softly, her embarrassment giving way to a sense of adventure. “I suppose we have, dear brother. Let’s make the most of it.”

And with that, they allowed their passion to consume them once more, their kisses and desires filling the small council meeting room with a fervor that surpassed the boundaries of decorum.

Their lips met in a slow and passionate kiss, a sweet exchange of longing and devotion. The small council room, once a place of politics and strategy, was transformed into their private sanctuary, where their love and desires could flourish.

As their kiss deepened, they lost themselves in each other’s arms, their hearts entwined in a dance of love and romance. The room, with its grand table and high-backed chairs, bore witness to a different kind of council—one where the language spoken was that of love, trust, and unbreakable bonds.

Aemond eager to be close to his soon to be wife wasted no time to push her against the table, his lips attacking the sensitive skin under her jaw with bites and kisses to sooth the pain. Aerra's breathing was already laboured, her nibble fingers running through his hair that was in it's usual half up do, well not anymore.

"Aemond" She whispered, his name sounded like the sweetest tart rolling off her tongue. Aemond began pulling her dress up desperate to feel her skin. This was not the first they had been intimate and surely never will be the last.

"Daor" No. Aemond breathed in her ear. His fingers finally touching the skin of her thigh. He ran his thumb around the edge of her stocking before pushing it down fully. Aerra gasped as the cold air hit her legs causing goosebumbs.

"Kepa" Father/Daddy. The twins were twisted, that was no shock. The father they had was anything but a father, he was more of a stranger to them, they were shocked he even showed his face at the feast- most likely because Rhaenyra was there.

Aemond groped her thigh so tightly it will surely leave his fingerprints behind on it. He wrapped her exposed thigh around his waist before moving to the other one. His lips trailing up to her ear, biting and sucking the her earlobe. She whimpered shivering in his arms, she was desperate for his touch. Her second stocking and shoe followed the first on the floor, her legs now both wrapped around his waist he finally could touch more of her skin.

"My sweet girl, so desperate for attention" Aemond teased. he pulled back admiring her, her lips swollen and red from his attacks earlier. Her neck was already beginning to bruise from his bites. Her chest heaving as she sat on the table, her legs around his waist. His cock was throbbing in his trousers at the sight of her. Her hair was all over the place.

"Kepa, Kostilus" Please. Her begging was like the lemon cake to his ears. His fingers worked quickly undoing her bodice until her tits were spilling out.

"Shh, sweet whore" Aemond shushed her quickly. His hand grabbed at her breast, the perfect size in his hand, she was just perfect for him. Her entire being fit him so perfectly, her love handles and breasts were just the right size.

"Kepa, please it hurts" Aerra begged. Her cunt was crying in need of friction. She tried rubbing herself against him, gasping when she felt his hard on. Aemond smirked with delight at the sight of her wide eyes and dropped jaw. She knew just how to push his buttons even without trying.

"Shhh" Aemond gave a quick slap to her breast. He reached down to undo the ties of his trousers. Without her having to beg anymore or preparations he shoved his cock inside of her tight cunt.

"Such a perfect cunny" Aemond complimented. Aerra had to slap a hand over her mouth to stop a scream from slipping past her lips. He was just in so deep, he reached places she couldn't even imagine reaching herself.

Aemond stayed still not wanting to hurt her. He was amused with how wet she was and he didn't even need to touch her down there, he did not need to prepare her, she was always ready to take his cock. She was his perfect twin and no one can change that. No one can separate them, not even their disgusted mother.

"Move, Kepa" She whined, rolling her hips for some friction. Aemond lowered his head to take one of her tits into his mouth, suckling at it. She let out a loud moan without warning at the sensation, he always knew how to pleasure her. The pleasure went sparkling down to her lower region making her walls squeeze around Aemond's cock, making him crazy.

"Fuck" The curse came muffled from his lips. His hips began rocking back and forth, the way she sounded, the way she felt were just overwhelming.

"Aemy" Aerra cried throwing her head back. Aemond pulled away from her breast and placed a hand between her breasts, he applied just enough pressure to push her back to lay fully on the table. His eyes sparkled at the sight of her breasts bouncing with each thrust.

"That's not my name" Aemond's hand came down at her bouncing tits, giving each a quick slap. Aerra's back arched, legs beginning to tremble.

"Kepa" She moaned loudly, no longer caring who heard, they were betrothed and to marry soon, no one can separate them.

Aemond picked up the pace of his hips, his cock was just begging for more frictions. "Yes...fuck yes" Aerra was not one to curse, so now that she did Aemond knew he was doing it right.

"Do not cum" Aemond warned, his one eyes blazing with almost anger. She did not earn cumming yet.

"Please kepa" She begged. Her left hand reached down to touch herself but he slapped it away in a second. Aerra cried with frustration. Her eyes teary already from the pleasure began pouring with frustration.

"Kepa!" Aerra cried desperately. He picked up the speed of his thrusts, he was slamming into her at this point. He was going to teach her a lesson.

"Whores do not get to cum" Aemond growled. One of his hands reached up to grab her jaw. His hips not stopping for a second. Her eyes rolled back, back arched but he pulled at her jaw making her eyes snap back to normal and her back to lay still down again.

"Do you understand?" Aemond asked. His nails digging into her flesh.

"Yes kepa, please kepa, I am sorry" She cried. Her hand reached to grab his wrist. He pushed her hand away and moved to focus on the movement of his hips.

His hands grabbed at her hips moving her hips just the right way to match the rhythm of his own. Aerra's hands tried desperately to grab onto anything. Her right found comfort on her own breast, kneading the full flesh, twicking her nipple evoking herself to more pleasure. Aemond had ruined her forever, she was no longer the shy and innocent sister she used to be.

"Kepa, please please please" Aerra's pleas filled the otherwise empty room. She did not care if she was to be heard, it aroused her more actually, she wanted the lords she danced with and lusted over her to see her being absolutely being destroyed by her own brother.

"Fuck, cum" Aemond was not a vocal person in general let alone during intimacy. His voice was low and gruff, it turned Aerra on even more. She rolled her nipple begging every god for the release her brother was chasing for the both of them.

"Yes please" Aerra's breath got caught in her throat. It was like lightning struck her and moved through her entire body. Her legs shook so hard they went numb for a second. They unraveled from around Aemond's waist and shot up in the air shacking. Her body obeyed only his command. No one else's but his and it will forever.

Aemond grabbed her legs behind her knees and pulled them up to his shoulders and continued the assault on her cunt. This new position allowed him to reach deeper, he could feel her cervix if that was possible. He was very close, he was going to seed her. He was desperate to seed her. He wanted her to swell with a pure blooded Targaryen.

"Sweet twin" Aemond tried to comfort her as her eyes rolled back, her orgasm being prolonged with his movement. With a groan of pleasure Aemond came shooting his cum so deep inside of her it probably went straight into her womb.

"Gods" The word came out forced from her lips as she tried to pull her hips away from Aemond, too overstimulated. Aemond let her crawl back a little only enough for his cock to slip out of her. His singular eye watched as his spend ran out of her slit and down onto the table. Her legs fell limp like the rest of her body. He leaned down on top of her to place a kiss on her forehead.

"Mine" He whispered against her eye before placing a small kiss to her closed eyelid. Her chest heaving made her breasts brush against his, her sensitive nipples perked at the touch and made her groan a little.

"Kepa" She whined. Opening her eyes lazily, Aemond smiled at the sight, she just looked so sweet like a little girl, his little girl that he gets to fuck fro the rest of his life.

"I'm right here" Aemond helped her sit up again. Her arms wrapped around his waist and her head rested on his chest. Legs open again welcoming him inside, his cock sheathed inside like it was going home, to keep them both warm.

"Kepa's got you" Aemond whispered against her hair line, placing a small kiss there as well. Aerra hummed happily and nuzzled even more into his chest, her arms tightening around his waist. He was hers and She was his forever.

#house of the dragon #house targaryen #hotd #house of the dragon imagine #hotd imagine #game of thrones #aemond targaryen #prince aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #prince aemond #aemond fanfiction #aemond fic #aemond fluff #aemond imagine #aemond smut #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond targaryen smut #aemond x oc #house of the dragon aemond #house of the dragon smut #house of the dragon oc #hotd fanfic #hotd smut #kinktober

[sp00kworm]

#original writing #poll #sir dawling #enchanted armour #enchanted knight #enchanted knight x reader #enchanted armour x reader

[lavendermunson]

enchanted II | knight!eddie munson x princess!reader

summary Eddie takes you to the ball, you two share a nice moment until the magic ends with the reminder of your marriage. Could Eddie help you get out of this one?

tags +18, afab!reader, perv!eddie, mentions of jason craver sorry, best friends to lovers kind of relationship, mentions of food. no use of y/n. i tried to be as inclusive as possible so i didn’t mention anything about the reader’s, no skin color, no hair color, no body type. this chapter is just pure fluff.

a/n dance scene inspired by little women by greta gerwig, if you know you know. reader’s mom’s name thoughts

wc 3.3k

moodboard | previous chapter | next chapter

—

A lot of times your dreams were centered around Eddie, not in a sexual way because you haven’t seen him in a while. Nearly nine years have passed and you wonder how he looks now, did he keep the buzz cut? did he let a beard grow? a mustache maybe? Your mind always tried to picture a 19-year-old Eddie but you were never satisfied.

Since the moment you saw him through that door, your tummy finally felt those little butterflies your mom loved to talk about.

"Mom? Can I ask you a question?"

You were turning 15, and since that night no one stopped talking about the wedding of their princess and Jason Craver.

"Yes, darling" she looked at you.

"How do you know you like someone… romantically?"

"Well… when your father and i met it was love at first sight" she laughed "My body was filled with these butterflies, right here in my stomach" she placed a hand over her body and looked at the ceiling, trying to re-play the moment in her head.

"So you fell in love the moment you saw him?”

"No" The queen took her crown off and placed it on your lap, your fingers began to play with the small diamonds in it.

"Then?"

"That is when you like someone when you think they are pretty. Falling in love takes time, it is complicated. " she placed one hand on your shoulder "When you are in love the butterflies stop and a wave of love comes at you with this feeling of… security. You start to feel comfortable and loved"

You try to remember her words, she must be right… First of all, she is your mom. Second of all, she is older and has been through things you haven’t. But why did she get to marry the one that she loved? Why can't you have the same thing?

"I-i don't feel butterflies when i'm with Jason and i don't think i feel safe either" The tears in your eyes started to roll down your cheeks, your mom took her crown back in her hands.

"You will! you will!" she was angry, not at you. She had to convince herself that doing this arrangement was for her good, she didn't like it… god, she hated it! but she had to be a good queen, she had to respect the agreement. "That boy… and you. You are going to be the happiest couple" she hated lying to her daughter, she hated the look of sadness on your face.

She left your room that night without glancing back at you, no goodnight hug either. Since then she cried in her husband's arms almost every night.

"How can we do that to her?"

"It's an agreement"

"We have to stop!"

"We can't stop" the king whispered "But… let's do another agreement, between me and you"

"What is that?" the queen looked at him with hope in her eyes.

"If she meets someone, if she falls in love… like us" his finger pointed at her and back at him, he cupped her cheek locking eyes with her "We let her escape"

"But… she is our baby" The queen bounces her head, and tears start falling. The thought of watching her daughter in an unhappy marriage was a bad thing, but losing her forever had to be the most heartbreaking thing.

"I doubt that would happen, that's why we need to keep her in the castle at all times”

"And if it happens?"

"She is smart enough to run away and get what she wants, we would have to respect her decision. Only if she is in love, will she escape. We won't be able to find her and that's the only way the Craven family will forgive us"

From that day on, you spent your days busy at the castle. Piano classes, guitar classes, literature classes, french classes… anything to keep you busy. You loved learning, but your biggest dream was to travel the world with the person you'd fall in love with.

__

Monday, three weeks before your birthday.

Eddie took you to the ball as promised, it was filled with elegantly dressed guests, some of them were strangers and some of them the same ‘refined’ people as always. You immediately feel out of place, no one in this ballroom comprehends your dreams or your ambitions, some girls ask about your wedding, and some of them share secrets to make the ‘perfect wedding’ god, you were sick of that word already.

Taking a few steps back from the group of girls, you find the glasses with wine and the table of little pastries focused on what to choose. The feeling of anxiety boosts as you recognize a voice. 

“Are you having fun or do you want me to show you how to have fun?” Jason and his irritating voice.

“I was until you got here” You turn your back to pick up more pastries and put them on your plate, you take two of each one.

“Why two?” he asks, trying to take one but you take the little plate away.

“I’m hungry” you lie, biting one of the cookies and letting the crumbs fall to your dress “You should go, there are a lot of girls who want to have fun in whatever way you like” 

“You know… i will take your word”

You see him vanish through the swirling couples he will be looking for a girl and be out of the ballroom for a long time. Meanwhile, you look around so no one can see you sneak out to the back to meet Eddie, you knew he stayed there because no one likes to be outside, it was perfect for him to be alone until this party was over. 

“Hi”

“Hey… shouldn’t you be inside?” he looked at your face, then the food in your hands.

“I got you something, i know these things are so long and boring but the only way to get through it is by eating lots of sugar!” 

He glanced at you with a tiny smile on his face, you were the most adorable thing ever. 

“Thank you, it’s nice of you” You nodded, getting closer to him, resting your back against the wall as he did.

Both of you can’t forget what happened in your room, the tingly feeling between your legs and his cock so hard. You would almost rip each other’s clothes if it weren’t for this event. Trying to bring serenity to your mind, you shake your head as the thoughts fly away and you break the silence.

“So… how’s it been? I haven’t seen you in ten years?”

Eddie tried to come up with a smart, interesting, and short answer to your question. Trying to surprise you… but he had nothing. He didn’t want to admit he had only two friends. He didn’t want to tell you about all the times he sneaked out to see you. 

“Fine, just fine,” he says, finishing the cupcake he had in his hand. Almost dropping it after zoning out.

“Fine? Edward please, it’s me” Every time someone calls him by his full name he shivers, recalling all the times someone was mad at him. But with you it was different, it sounds great coming from your beautiful lips, but it builds a strange barrier between you two, making the interaction too formal for his liking. But he had to remember, he works for you, he is not your friend, he has a job to do. 

“Last time we saw each other we talked so much about music, books, the world…” The words coming from your mouth made you realize, at least one person shares your interests, “you told me dragons were most likely real but fun, not evil or violent, just… beautiful creatures looking for love”

“Of course, it’s something a kid would say” he wipes the frosting out of his lips with his fingers, he sucks them clean minutes after and you watch him mesmerized.

“No, no… when we were kids everyone was boring but you” He shakes his head, letting out a chuckle “Everything you said made so much sense, that’s why it got stuck in my head”

“That night… it was great,” he says and you nod, biting your lip. You remember it all too well, and he does too.

“It was, so I'll ask again… how’s it been?” you hit him with your elbow, giggling at the same time as he coughs to hide a smile. The barrier Eddie thought was between you two somehow fell into pieces.

“Good… i learned how to play piano at the local bar, my uncle got me a guitar for my 13th birthday and i’ve been writing songs” he hopes everything he says sounds interesting to you, and it does.

“That is… fascinating”

“Are you lying to me?” he squints his eyes in disbelief.

“It is, i promise” Your nose scrunches up, trying to match his expression. There’s a bittersweet moment of realization that hits you like a wave of fresh air, you listen to Eddie as his life sounds more fun than yours.

“And how’s the princess been doing?”

“Reading, playing piano, and oh! painting” 

He leans his head to the side, eyebrows furrowed. You lean your head back figuring out his expression, but you don’t read it.

“Just that? Hey, I'm not judging you here but i thought princesses had a lot of fun… that sounds fun too but i thought you were out at parties and you know, getting drunk or dancing until midnight”

“Yes, when you have real friends or a great husband. When you can travel the world or play music with someone, not when your parents have you studying all day”

Eddie’s mouth descends to one side in a pout after you look away, you try to focus on the dark of the garden and how some flowers seem to shine thanks to the moonlight, your life was good… average. But you never had fun and that had you heartbroken.

“That’s why you go out to the woods?”

“Yes” You still don’t look at him, a sad frown appears on your face. Don’t cry, don’t cry in front of him “To not feel chained to something… but i know it’s a never-ending type of feeling”

The boy with chocolate eyes notices a change in your voice, he places a hand on your shoulder just like he did in your room. But this time his touch is filled with compassion, he didn’t know you were feeling this way.

“Do you… do you ever think about not going back to your room?” he asks.

“All the time” you nod, and your hand reaches out to his over your shoulder. Eddie doesn’t know there are times you don’t go back at all. He flips his hand over your shoulder to take yours and squeeze it. His warm touch fills up your heart.

There’s a moment when Eddie’s mind is crowded with questions. Can he help you be free? Can he make you have more fun? He wants to take you out of this kingdom, find a small town and be with you forever. He wishes you were happier because you make him happy. 

“And now I have to get married to a boy that acts like a child, a person that I’ll never love and it sucks… I go to the woods and I get farther away each time but something always drags me back here”

He gets the feeling, he couldn’t leave even if he wished to. He can’t leave Uncle Wayne, he can’t leave Jeff and Gareth. Eddie’s mind is empty now, he doesn’t know what to say to help you feel better. He sucks at talking about feelings, he never learned how to cheer someone up with the right words. 

Instead, he concentrates on the music after being in silence for a while, recognizing the melody of the song he takes both of your hands making the plate fall and break, he kicks it with his feet and pushes you into his chest earning a soft smile and a giggle from you.

“Dance with me,” he says, his breath hitching for a second waiting for you to answer. You feel his breath on your lips, your eyes linger on them for a couple of seconds.

“We can’t… they will see us” You peek at all those people in the ballroom, everyone looks so happy dancing… but the music is a little bit more upbeat, they don’t jump and dance they just move their feet from side to side at a slow pace. Boring. 

“Just let your body follow the music and if we get close to a window we pretend to walk”

You nod in excitement, as he laughs and starts twirling you around. Your grip on his hand tightens up as he drags you forward, you do as he told you, and after twirling around you see a window and get back to your postures. You laugh a couple of steps further and away from the windows. Eddie’s movements become electric, he starts to jump and you follow him, grasping his hand as you enjoy the music in your silly dance moves, jumping on your tippy toes. 

You two, in your private world have fun on a night you could’ve sworn it was going to kill you, instead it’s nice and filled with joy. As you dance with Eddie, where no one can see you, it takes you back to the first night you met him. 

You bump into his chest and quickly take a step back. His heart is thumping so fast in his chest, almost making his rib cage break. Yours is pounding hard and loud, afraid that he could hear but at the same time wishing he could.

The music stops, and both of you look at each other when you realize you are in the same spot, noticing you were moving in circles the entire time. 

“Little one?” a soft voice calls your attention, it was your mom “What are you doing here?”

“Nothing, I was just taking some air” You tear your eyes away from Eddie, missing his soft gaze already. He drops your hand, getting his knight posture back in the presence of his queen. 

“Good, we are leaving” She reaches for your arm and you grab it “Jason's mom wants to have lunch on Friday, she wants to tell you something important so it’s time we go home and get some sleep so you look presentable. Got it?”

You drop Eddie’s hand a he misses your touch, you do too. He squeezes his hand softly trying to give his muscles a memory of their own so they can remember your warmth, your little fingers brushing the palm of his hand as it gets away from yours.

“Of course, Mom…” you say, your expression transitioning from happiness to sadness. You follow her as Eddie walks behind you both, his heart aches as he repeats your words in his head.

“And now I have to get married… to a person that I'll never love … I go to the woods and… something always drags me back here”

I need to help you, he says to himself. I’ll get you out of here, I need you to be happy.

__

On Friday morning and after worrying for four torturous days, when you open your eyes, someone keeps knocking at the door and makes you jump out of bed. You let go a groan as your mom comes in and some of the maids help you get ready for lunch, is this necessary? Last Monday you got ready by yourself… Well, with a little help from Eddie. But still, this whole show for lunch, it was going to be a very long day.

__

You sit down on the balcony of Craven's castle. It has a nice view of the town, better than your own. Jason’s mom, Avari, joins you and your mom at the table and looks at you. It’s a judgy look, yes. She is thinking if you are worth it for his “little boy” and you hope she thinks you are not.

“Thank you for joining me, Queen Margery and Princess…” she nods “I have something really important to ask you”

Stop. Everything. For a minute. Did she forget your name? Yes, yes she did.

“Thank you for having us, you selected such a wonderful place,” your mom says, you roll your eyes at how nice she is “Whatever you have to tell us, I’m sure we can make it work”

You take a sip of coffee as Queen Avari parts her lips to speak, she puts down her cup and looks at your mom.

“I want to start getting ready for the big day, the dress, the flowers, the decorations, the guests… it needs to be the most perfect wedding”

The sip of coffee goes up to your nose and you cough to mask the uncomfortable feeling, your shoulders give up as you lean to the front and cover your mouth. Her announcement takes you by surprise and it shocks you, this can’t be happening right now.

“Sorry,” you whisper, reaching for a handkerchief to clean your mouth. Jason’s mom looks at you disgusted, your mom looks at you worried. “Isn’t it a little early for that?”

“Child, it is in my hands to make you and my baby boy’s wedding the best of them all. If we go ahead and plan with time it will be easier, what do you say Margery?”

You look at your mom, begging her with your eyes to disagree. “It is a wonderful idea, I agree” She looks at you with a warm look, noticing how the bright light in your eyes disappears. A feeling of guilt appears in her stomach.

“No!” you get up, hitting the table with your palms.

“You vulgar child” Queen Avari stands up too, looking at you. She is angry and you can feel it, the best part is you don’t care. 

“I- mom…” you look at your mom for a couple of seconds before running out, you wish you could jump out off the balcony but it’s impossible. You keep running through the castle until you find a way out through the kitchen door. Eddie watches you leave and runs after you. Moments after, and now that you are away from that castle you stop. Eddie watches you as you fall to your knees, tears start dripping down your cheeks.

“Are you okay? Do you need something? What happened?” A worried Eddie kneels in front of you and shakes your shoulders, softly. He gets desperate from not getting an answer, you tilt your head up to look at him.

“I can’t do this, I can’t marry him,” you say, your voice muffled as you sob “I don’t want to” 

Eddie notices the heartbreak look in your eyes, he immediately gets closer to you and hugs you. As you cry in his arms he tries to get up, helping you do the same. His arms tighten around your body, you try to imitate his actions but you stay with your arms on your sides, frozen.

“I need to go… I- I don’t want to go home” he notices your body fighting to be free from his arms, sadly. He lets you go supposing he would have to run after you again, but you stay in your place “Would you come with me?” you say.

He thinks about it for a moment, his gaze is soft on yours, and it calms you down.

“Where?” he asks.

“I know a place… in the woods” You take his hand.

A million scenarios travel through his mind, but his priority right now it’s you. Only you.

“Show me… I will go with you” he intertwined his fingers with yours squeezing your hand, and a delicate smile appeared on your lips.

“Let’s go,” you say and start to walk at a fast pace, Eddie walks with you.

He will follow you everywhere, as he is right now. His head gets cloudy as he remembers he is holding your hand, as he understands you trust him more than anyone else. Not thinking of the consequences that will come later.

hey! i hope you like part two. i decided i’m going to post a chapter every friday, i’ll try to do my best and i know a deadline helps me to get things straight. sorry this one took sooooooo long ); also it’s just fluff because i’ve been stressed lately and im tired hehe.

if you have some ideas for part three let me know! any comment, suggestion or question is more than welcome ✨ feedback is appreciated! don't forget to REBLOG TO SUPPORT THE AUTHOR! . ♡

tags @stephanie-nicks76 @mylovelycrazyworld @thebrookemunson and special tag for @allthingsjoeq they have a knight!eddie fic too if you’d like to read it ♥️ thank you for your love and patience

#leia writes ⊹ ꒱ #enchanted series!! #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x best friend reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson au #knight!eddie x princess!reader #knight!eddie #knight!eddie munson #knight!eddie munson x princess!reader #eddie munson fantasy au

[vipwinnie]

Halloween Party

Halloween special n°1

Mattheo riddle x reader

Summary: Cormac Mclaggen hit on you at the annual halloween party and your boyfriend is not happy about it

The Halloween nights were always magical at Hogwarts, and the Slytherin dormitory was hosting an extravagant party. My friends Hermione, Cho, Ginny, and I were buzzing with excitement as we prepared for the evening. Cho looked stunning in her demon costume, Hermione was an angel, and Ginny a daring pirate. I, on the other hand, had chosen a short red corset-style Little Red Riding Hood outfit, which I knew was rather revealing but had decided to take the risk.

We laughed and helped each other with the final touches of our costumes, sharing makeup and styling tips. It was a blast getting ready together, and the thought of spending the evening with my friends at the Slytherin party filled me with joy. 

“ You know , Ron will fall in love with your dress Hermione, “ you said with a sly smile.

Getting a embarrassed smile from Hermione

Once we were all decked out, we made our way to the party. The Slytherin common room was transformed into a mesmerizing wonderland of Halloween decorations. At the party there were Witches' hats, broomsticks, and bat silhouettes everywhere in the big room and themed banners with phrases like "Happy Halloween" or spooky motifs were strung across walls and doorways.

As we entered, I noticed couples pairing off with their respective dates. Cho found her boyfriend, Hermione was dancing with Ron, and Ginny had disappeared into the crowd to find Harry.

I scanned the room, searching for my boyfriend, Mattheo Riddle. My heart sank when I couldn't spot him among the dancing witches and wizards. I decided to wander around in the hope of finding him.

As I moved through the room, my discomfort in the revealing outfit grew, and I began to feel self-conscious. Just as I was contemplating returning to my friends, Cormac McLaggen, one of the most notorious flirts at Hogwarts, approached me. His eyes lingered on my costume, and a sly grin crept onto his face.

"Little Red Riding Hood, you look absolutely enchanting tonight," Cormac purred, his gaze making me squirm uncomfortably.

"Thank you," I replied, feeling my cheeks grow warm. I had heard about Cormac's reputation and hoped to avoid any awkward encounters.

He leaned in closer, his fingers brushing against my thigh, and I stiffened, taking a step back. "You know, you and I could have quite the adventure tonight."

Before I could respond, Mattheo suddenly appeared by my side, his expression dark and protective. He stepped between Cormac and me, his voice dripping with warning. "I think you've overstepped your boundaries, Cormac."

Cormac raised an eyebrow, his arrogance unwavering. "Just trying to have a little fun, Riddle."

Mattheo's eyes flashed with anger, and he didn't hesitate. In one swift motion, he grabbed Cormac by the collar and pulled him aside, effectively blocking him from me. Their exchange was intense and heated, and I couldn't hear their words over the music.

But it didn't matter. I felt an overwhelming rush of relief knowing that Mattheo had my back. He didn't let anyone disrespect or make me uncomfortable. As Cormac was led away from me, my boyfriend turned back to me, his expression softening.

"Are you okay?" he asked, concern in his eyes.

I nodded and smiled, relieved to be in Mattheo's protective embrace. "I'm better now. Thanks for being my knight in shining armor." 

“ Did i say to you that you look amazing in that dress and I can't help but think about how you'll look in it later when we're alone."

"Oh, you noticed, huh?"you said blushing 

"How could I not? You're absolutely stunning. And it's driving me crazy, thinking about what we'll do later in private, with you in that pretty outfit." Adding a gentle and loving kiss on my lips. 

#harry potter #mattheo riddle #lorenzo berkshire #fanfiction #halloween #halloween fanfiction #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle blurb #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle fanfic #mattheo riddle fanfiction #mattheo riddle fic #slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #golden trio #harry potter fanfic

[bump1nthen1ght]

Lovers in Arms (Living Armor x Fem!Reader)

Pairing: Fem!Knight x Living Armor (He/Him)

Genre:Fantasy, Established Relationship, Slight Exhibitionism

Warnings: None

Word Count:1507 words

Summary: As a famous knight, you’re quite used to receiving unwanted attention from others, romantic or not. Your partner, however, has found another way of coping with it.

Request: Hear me out a female knight x living Armor. Outside is very protective plate armor but the inside is a sticky, slimy mass of tendrils. When she is out fighting everything is normal but when she is talking with people and doing errands is when it starts to become hard to ignore. Doesn't help that the armor dirty talks and praises her while its fondling and screwing her. They both have a great relationship.

“I don’t like this man.”

“I’m aware.” You mumble under your breath, feeling the way Rust squirms and wriggles against your skin, a tell-tale sign of his annoyance. It’s a far cry from his usual movements, which have a way of syncing perfectly to your limbs, slipping right into the natural crevices. “But he’s willing to pay for this next campaign, so we gotta suck up a bit.”

You’d normally not speak so freely with Rust like this, but the man of discussion, some lord or something, is talking about himself so loudly you doubt he notices.

“I’ve heard much about your past battles, good knight! When I saw you would be leading this battalion, I knew I had to come and meet you.” You nod along, used to the simple back and forths of these sorts of conversations. You play the part, stroke their egos, and your knights and squires have full bellies and well-maintained equipment for the rest of their next mission. It’s embarrassing, but worth it. “I must say too, you are much more…beautiful than I expected, captain.”

You internalize a groan, your armor shuddering as Rust’s tentacles tense up.

This happens a lot too.

“I mean not to offend but when I first heard of your epic tales, I thought ‘surely someone so accomplished can’t also be attractive.’ And yet you-” The lord bites his lip in what he mist thinks is charming, “-have enchanted me.”

You muster your best flattered grin, despite the way your stomach sours.

“Thank you, my lord. I assure you the feeling is mu- hngh!” Blood nearly draws from thr forceful bite against your lip, a moan nearly clawing its way out of you mouth. The lord’s eyebrows shoot up. “E-excuse me. I think some of my old battle scars are-” another breathy sigh, your cheeks growing hot, “-acting up. I apologize.”

You don’t stay to hear the lord's worried questions and sympathies, instead running to your tent. You pass by drinking soldiers and courtiers, all celebrating your last victory. None spare a look at their serious captain, knowing how often you retreat your quarters. Surely to look over battle strategies and war routes, always the hard worker.

“F-fuck, Rust.” You pant, nearly collapsing once you reach your bed. The appendage currently circling your clit stops, your cunt aching from the lack of stimulation. “You have to stop doing that.”

“And why should I?” Rust's smug voice echoes in your helm. “Not like that buffon would’ve noticed. Pigheaded, ignorant fool, flirting with you-”

This was a common occurrence as well. Something about military success and captain’s armor has a way of drawing people’s attention, several nobles looking to leech off of the prestige of courting you. While you’ve perfected a method of deflection, seeming humble yet appreciative, Rust can’t help but seeth whenever they start sweet talking. His jealousy comes to a head, all the sass and the passion all bursting out like a broken dam. You’re usually able go escape somewhere private before it becomes too overwhelming, but there have been times you struggle to finish your sentence because of the tentacles fucking you like a piston, his low voice whispering laviscious that echoe in your ears.

“You’re an immaculate treasure, captain. They don’t deserve you.”

“I don’t know when you look more beautiful, on the battlefield or cumming on my tentacles.”

“Cum for me, Captain.”

You learn to give a grated smile, utter an excuse about your old injuries, and hobble away while cum runs down your legs in rivulets.

It can get a little frustrating, but in this moment, you can't say you hate the effect jealousy has on him.

“Forget about him.” You collapsed onto your bed, all thoughts of reprimanding Rust fading from mind. The only need at the forefront of your mind is lust, your body craving the taste of pleasure. “It’s just us now.”

If he could, Rust would surely be smirking.

“That's right. As it should be.” Rust’s voice rumbles all across your body, accompanied by the familiar slipping of his tentacles, all slotting into place. One slides right between your pussy lips, now slick, and resumes circling your clit. “Just you and I, together.”

Your head is thrown back in a moan, helm falling off and letting your hair lie loose. Rust’s inner body only extends to your chestplate, his voice now echoing off your collar and into your ear.

“Yes, pretty girl. Such pretty noises.” Two tentacles encircle your breasts, squeezing and fondling. “My gorgeous captain” The metal shakes with Rust’s purrs, plate joints rubbing against each other as all the tentacles move. “Hmm, I love the way this pussy tastes after a long battle.”

“Rust.” You whine, hand thrown over your face as a hot blush spreads up your neck.

“What? Its true.” A tip of a tentacle prods at your entrance, dancing around it like a tease. “The sweat that drips down between your thighs, your sweet juices…” That tapered tip slowly enters your whole, tabtalizinignly slow, “It’s addictive.”

A shaky sigh is muffled by your palm, your legs instinctively spreading wide as the tentacle stretches you open. Lines of ridges along the side scrape against your walls, sending shocking bolts across your stomach. Your free hand digs into your blankets.

“Divine.” Rust moans, two limbs pressing your breasts together as another slots in between them. The tentacle inside burns as it reaches its girthiest part, the tip now curled against your g-spot. “If those fools ever saw you like this, captain, they’d know how out of their league you are.”

“Aah!” Your hand becomes a fist and you bite down on your knuckles, Rust finally starting to thrust inside of you. In private he likes to take his sweet time setting the pace, unraveling you like a gift.

“I want you to sing for me, general.”

“Oh, fu-uck.” You draw out your vowels, back arching as the tentacles around your nipples twist even tighter. The ones deep in your pussy go frustratingly slow, drawing out to the tip before pressing you open again. “Rust.”

If your enemies could see you now; The fierce Captain of the Crimson Brigade, whose command brought countless victories for the crown, who never rested until the fight was one, begging like a common whore. Your voice all high and needy, so different from the gruff persona you put on when shouting orders.

On the battlefield, you and Rust are all business. Everything clicks, your two bodies moving in perfect synchronicity, throwing javelins and wielding a greatsword with ease. You’re the perfect pair; You bring the technique, he brings the strength, and together you can bring down titans. A force to be reckoned with, that bows to no one.

But it can be exhausting. All those decisions, life-changing decisions, are in your hands. You are the face of this operation, after all, and any missteps reflect on your leadership, no one else's.

So what's wrong with handing the reins over, every once in a while? Let someone set the pace, move your body for you. Let you be the obedient soldier, following the lead.

“Good girl.” Rust purse, and all those troubles from before melting away.

Your thighs fight to clench together as he begins fucking you faster, vision blurring as he hits your g-spot with precision. The merriment of celebration and drunken victory outside are loud enough to drown your wanton noises. Let them have their image of their general, let them have the person you pretend to be on the battlefield. These noises are for Rust, and only Rust.

“I’m getting close.” Your lips quiver, the skin nearly worn thin from your incessant biting. “Please, Rust.”

“How could I ever say no to you, Captain?” A second tentacle slips inside you, joining its twin and thrusting in you like a well-oiled machine. A gaso claws its way out of your throat, hips jumping from the burning stretch. “Especially when you ask so nicely.”

The tentacles twist together, writing against your walls. Your eyes roll back into your head as a buzzing sensation travels up from your core to your face, like you're starting to go numb.

“Oh, gods!” You cry out as the crescendo finally hits, pussy clenching the tentacles in a vice. All of Rust’s appendages shudder, a sultry groan echoing out of your collar.

The armor feels hot, almost too hot as you lay in the end, the high of climaxing slowly fading. Sweat drips down your entire body, loving tentacles lapping them up eagerly. Words still escape you, your thoughts a jumbled mess of sensations and emotions. You should really take a shower, shed Rust and clean him as well, but everything is sore, and your brain calls for sleep.

“Rest, my captain. We can bathe in the morning.”

Rust whispers, low tone only pulling you further into unconsciousness.

In the soft embrace of your lover, you can fall asleep peacefully. No thoughts of battles, or blood, or death. Just the two of you, as always.

#my writing #reader insert #monster x reader #monster romance #female reader insert

[aqwnstars]

Give me siren scara or bratty mermaid scara hc pls. I'm begging you. I'm on the floor. I'm bashing my head on the wall.

HEY POOKIE<33 TYSM FOR REQUESTING!!

- A.N- I haven't been writing lately because my schools getting harder and I recently got an F in an exam so i have to study so the alpha scara isn't coming out soon so sorry my lovelies :(( I try to do my requests first, and then any other fanfic i started doing, but since fanfics take me a week or so to write, this one.... will be written in a headcanon format.. I'm not that experienced with writing a hc format so any criticism is appreciated, in a later time i might make a whole fanfic<33 (FUUCKKCKKKS I FORGOT TO WRITE HIM AS A BRAT ONEOMFMKOAKXKSK)

uhhmmmm i keep noticing i always write scara pining over reader which im not sure if its TOTTALLLYY in character, but writing him pinininy is cute so stfu🙏🙏🙏

Siren Scaramouche x partially deaf gn reader

Word count: 686 (short one..)

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None!!

Pronouns: You/Yours, reader can be any gender (meant to be gender neutral!!)

Loving waves

Siren! Scaramouche who was known in the underwater world as the most majestic siren out of all.

His voice was such a lulling song so much so that anyone who gave him their listening ear couldn't help but be entranced.

And how shocked he was when he met a person he couldn't lure in.

He began to only think about them, at first planning on how to kill them because he wouldn't let someone he choose to lure in and kill survive, due to his ego, but that began to turn into a genuine interest a few weeks later.

Without thinking about it, Scaramouche had spent hours just staring at you, he wouldn't say it's admiring of course.

It has become a routine at this point, you'd go work outside, maybe take a walk and he'd just stare at you, gazing longingly at your features from afar.

The way you two met would be as if it was straight out of a fairy tale, he'd get caught up in a fishing web, and you'd be his knight in shining armor!!

Him, being a siren, is seen as a terrifying being, a coldblooded murderer, but to you he was such a majestic being, if you were more naive you'd think he was a God (in which case, he wouldn't complain!!)

Everyday since you had saved him, you started to visit him. You brought little trinkets from your home, and he brought you a few shells. (sometimes that is, if you're lucky!!) Might I add, the shells he gifted you were like no other. They range in colors and shapes, not even the most avid collecters saw the shells he had given you.

He enjoyed spending time with you, more than he thought he would. He has gotten used to being alone, so a daily presence in his life was something unusual.

He'd let you touch his tail, his face turning pink as you compliment him. Your fingers on his tail, lightly caressing his scales. He couldn't help but look away as you admired him. If anyone else had requested to touch his tail, he'd plan a new song just for them, ...let's ignore the fact he offered to let you touch his tail, that's an unimportant detail.

One of the things he loved, ahem... liked most about you is the gentleness your eyes hold. He has gotten so used to the trashing waves of hatred in the mankinds eyes, but to see one's with calming flowing water? He could and would get lost in that body of water, no hesitation, of course he wouldn't tell you that though!

He wanted to listeh to you all day, anyone who said his voice was enchanting has never heard yours. Although you sometimes slur your words, stutter and at times get too loud, he loves that about you.

At times he wished you were a siren too, how beautiful would you look under the waters light he wonders. How would your tail sway in the oceans, rivers and seas?

One time, you asked him whether or not he can sing without indangering someone, he had never thought about that. Well of course he's not gonna risk losing his only love to find out, but that's a story for another day.

A few things I can definitely see him doing is;

Giving you his scales! He could tell how you always admired his tail, your eyes glowing at how his tail would practically shine under the Suns light. One night, he'd pluck a scale out, later in the say give it to you, saying: "It had accidentally fallen out, here. Don't think for a second I pulled it out for you." All while looking away, trying to look as non-chalant as possible while.. panicking inside over your reaction.

This might seem cruel, but he'd sing to insects, without the intention of killing them, to see if he can sing to you without putting you in danger.

He'd look around the seas floor for hours to find a shell that you'd like!! (.. you like everything he gives you so that's... pointless..)

AND THAT'S ALL I HAVE ON SIREN SCARA!!! :DD I HOPE I SATISFIED YOUR REQUEST POOKIE!!! (hope i did the hc format right..............

#genshin imagines #genshin impact #genshin impact fluff #genshin x reader #wanderer x reader #genshin scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche

[hadesrise]

meet the addams.

previous part.

summary ➳ the bat family meets the addams family

pairings ➳ jason todd x addams!male reader

warnings ➳ fluff, strong language, pet names, hesitant bruce, weapons, typical addams family behavior ( homicide, dark humor, weird, etc ), jason and reader being a simp for each other, the addams being wholesome as always, implied reader’s atheism (i think the entire addams are atheist tbh), mention of torture

author’s note ➳ wow, hades updated !! shocking, i know. i'm sorry for the long hiatus and inactive, i wasn't okay and it was difficult for me to write when my mind was in such a messed up state. mental health can be a bitch, you know :D i'm trying to recover, and went back on writing again. hope this was a good comeback.

Letting his family meet you hadn’t crossed Jason’s mind at all until that very day when his annoying older brother caught him by the ice cream truck buying a dark chocolate and a mint chocolate flavored ice cream.

Dick was on officer duty patrol in undercover civilian clothes that afternoon, walking around the streets of Gotham in hopes of catching some shady business going around the city or just someone doing a simple act that goes against the law, being a good police officer that he is. Though, instead of seeing criminals like he assumed he would, his most rebellious little brother dressed in bad boy-ish clothes as usual buying ice creams caught his eyes.

He was supposed to walk right past since there really is no reason to approach Jason, but seeing him sit down next to a mysterious, old fashioned, well-dressed, expensive looking guy in all black with sunglasses resting on the bridge of his nose and give the dark chocolate flavored ice cream to? Now, Dick certainly can’t walk past without knowing about you because he’s a little shit who just can’t help but stuck his nose into his brother’s business. That and, well, he also found you really cool. There’s not a thing in this world that can stop Dick Grayson from wanting to befriend someone who seems cooler than the Dark Knight himself.

So, in all his glory, Dick approached Jason with his usual charming smile dancing across his lips.

“Oh, god...” Jason groaned in annoyance as soon as he spotted the grinning male, rolling his eyes. Peace seems to never be an option whenever he takes you around the city for simple walks.

“Jason, are you uttering your all father’s name religiously or simply as an expression as of the moment?” Your elegant yet soothing, deep voice speaks out a sentence composed of well thought words and syllables, innocent curiosity behind the gentle tone.

Dick takes a mental note that your way of speaking sounded similar to the way humanity used to speak centuries ago, when everything was still old-fashioned and technologies hardly ever existed. It made him feel like you came from the past, as if he was witnessing the existence of a time traveler. Stopping in front of you two, he gives you a charming grin as soon as your eyes catches his. A hint of curiosity and wonder flashed within them behind the dark shades of your sunglasses before they were gone in an instant, replaced by a questioning look instead.

“May I help you?” You simply asked, but Dick doesn’t fail to notice the sudden drop in your previously soft tone and the piercing, calculated gaze holding wariness as well as subtle suspicion.

“Sorry, I’m Dick Grayson. I was curious about the person Jay’s hanging out with, I couldn’t help myself but approach.” He elaborates himself while trying his best to ensure he wasn’t a threat through body language, relaxing his figure. “I’m sorry if I freaked you out a little.”

Recognition flashed in your face, brows raising only barely to show subtle surprise, “Jason’s older brother. The name’s (Y/n) Addams. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” You smiled, and even something just as simple as that looked graceful in Dick’s eyes.

Somewhat unsurprisingly, you were enchanting to look at as everything you do or say was captivating. How Jason managed to pull you was beyond him.

“Nice to meet you too,” He says back with a soft smile.

Even though his little brother hasn’t introduced you yet to their family, at least you seemed to know about them. Hopefully, nothing unpleasant has been said, but Dick doubts Jason would hide his trauma from you, considering how he was leaning to your side now subconsciously, as if being away from you will bring back awful memories.

He was worried about his practically traumatized-for-life little brother living alone, but it appears he didn’t have to worry at all.

“What are you doing here, Dick?” Jason more of grumbled, annoyed that your date has been interrupted. Almost automatically, one of your hands move to settle itself on his thigh to give it a gentle and soothing rub to ease his growing annoyance, while the other held your dark chocolate ice cream that you had begun eating with clean manners. He relaxed in an instant after feeling your touch.

“I think you should introduce (Y/n) to our family, Jay.” Dick suggests with enthusiasm that didn’t match Jason’s, not really answering his question. “They would want to know who you’re going out with. We can all have a dinner together!” There was excitement shining in his eyes as he shrugged his shoulders, trying to remain nonchalant despite his body language practically screaming excited.

Your lover groans, “Why the hell do they have to know who I’m going out with?”

Amusement crosses your face as you smirked, licking off the small bits of ice cream that got on your lips. “I wouldn’t be opposed to that. I’m certain my family will be more than happy to meet them.” Jason gives you a look, to which you responded with an innocent smile. “Oh, mon amour. What could go wrong? I have been looking forward to meet your family, but you’ve never considered to bring me there. It’s a little concerning how you seem too hesitant to let them meet me.” You pout, feigning sadness.

Your lover widens his eyes, panic appearing in them as he gripped your hand that was on his thigh after realizing what you were implying. “That’s not what it looks like, babe! I just don’t want you to meet them ‘cause they can be a bit unbearable. Bruce is the worst person you could ever meet,” He scrunched his nose. “It’s not you I don’t want them to meet, it’s them I don’t want you to meet. There’s a difference. You’re never the problem.”

You chuckled at his quick attempt of elaboration.

Jason feels his cheeks redden at how deeply elegant and amazing your laugh sounded; it never fails to make his heart go haywire even after all this time. You manage to effortlessly make him fall in love with you deeper and deeper every day without even meaning to.

“Worry not, darling. I was just teasing you. I’m far from upset.” Reassuring him, your hand gently cups his cheek to rub the skin comfortingly. “Let me meet them once you’ve gotten rid of your doubts completely, my Jason. It isn’t necessary to rush.” You then let go of his face to push some of his hair away from his forehead before leaning back to continue eating the ice cream.

Dick witnessed a starstruck smile spread across Jason’s lips in an instant, the way his expression was so soft when looking at you, how his emerald eyes that usually held pent-up rage towards the world sparks brightly in love and adoration.

Huh. He’s never seen his brother this happy and content.

Maybe you are Jason’s one true love.

“Dick,” Jason calls out after watching you eat your ice cream with a barely hidden happiness. You looked happy to meet one of his family even though you haven’t said anything, and he was willing to throw away his pride if it meant making you happy.

“Hm?” Dick hummed, smiling when Jason glanced at you and looked back at him.

“Tell the others.”

That was all he needed to let out the excitement he was holding in, beaming at you two. “Right away, little bird!” He doesn’t waste a time to pull his phone out of his pocket, “I’m going then. It was nice meeting you, (Y/n). I’ll text you when!” He waved his hand and walked away, already dialling Bruce’s number.

Jason watched him go incredulously. “Did he just come here to convince me to introduce you?”

You chuckle under your breath, “Perhaps. Your brother has sorted out his priorities well.” However, a frown appears on your lips when you turned to Jason. “Do you genuinely feel comfortable letting my family meet them? We could always cancel, mon amour. There are many other fascinating activities we can bother ourselves with.”

Jason felt his heart swell at your gentle tone and concerned eyes, making him feel loved in many different ways. You don’t even realize that you’re slowly healing his troubled heart with simple things like this. He already knows you love him more than the Guillotine itself (which is a really big deal since nothing except him could ever beat your love for it) as you’ve always told him before, but the way you treat him, talk to him, and look at him just adds so much weight on your words. You don’t just tell him you love him — you show it in the most perfect, best, casual ways.

Intertwining his hand with yours, he brought it up to rest on his chest, hiding how overwhelmed he was with the love for you. “Like what, sweetheart?” Faint amusement laced his tone as he already knew the answer.

“Like slicing or shooting criminals, of course.” You winked before bringing your intertwined hands to press a kiss on his knuckles.

Jason laughs, and you admired the way he threw his head back to let the sound escape. “Knew you would say that!” He wheezed, before calming down to kiss your knuckles just like you did to his. “But it’s really fine, (Y/n). I want to introduce you and your family to mine.” His expression then turns apologetic, “ ‘m sorry if it seemed like I was keeping you in the shadows.”

You shake your head and leaned in to capture his lips in a peck, a gesture to let him know you didn’t mind. “If you were keeping me in the shadows, we wouldn’t be having a date out in the open where any of your family can see me. Don’t be apologetic, chéri. I’m nowhere near upset.”

Letting a smile break out, Jason leans in to kiss you more longer this time before pulling away.

Just like that, you both sat on the bench and ate ice creams in comfortable silence, holding each other’s hand.

Dick, Tim, Damian, Barbara, Cassandra and Stephanie all stood in front of the Wayne Manor with barely contained excitement, waiting for the infamous Addams family and Jason to show up.

Dick was mainly looking forward for his family to see the side of Jason no one had ever seen before, Tim was occasionally standing on his tiptoes to see if any car was nearing, and Damian was keeping himself still but his body practically trembled with excitement due to being a fan of your vigilante persona for a long time. Barbara had a smile on her face with a hint of nervousness, while Cassandra and Stephanie talked to each other to calm their nerves.

Even without research, the Addams family was quite the celebrity family in Gotham because of their richness that seemed to tie with Bruce Wayne, but moreover, they were rather infamous for being “weird” and gothic as those experts for minding businesses that aren’t their own paparazzi claimed. The Wayne family didn’t really need to dive into the deepest parts of internet in their computer; one newspaper — with the front cover of five people with gothic outfits standing in front of the big ass almost-castle-house — dedicated entirely to the weird family already helped.

Only thing they needed to research about was you, and surprisingly, it wasn’t hard to find information about your vigilantism — which is how all of them realized not only was Jason dating the person Damian idolizes more than his own father, but also the one who brutally tortured and straight-up dumped Joker into Arkham Asylum. Needless to say, it kinda made sense to them that Jason’s dating you, though Bruce wasn’t pleased.

The gates being opened to a black limousine caught their attention, making Cass and Steph break their conversation to watch the car drive closer before eventually stopping in front of them. A butler, who took them by surprise due to his seemingly inhuman looks similar to the Frankenstein monster, got out to open the door.

A man wearing a black suit with white stripes was the first to come out of the limousine as he smiles cheerfully at them, helping his wife to step out. Cassandra’s jaw dropped at the beautiful woman with black, long and silky hair who gives them an enchanting, almost hypnotizing smile.

Next to step out were a boy wearing black and white striped shirt and a girl who had her hair braided on two sides. The boy gave them an all too adorable friendly smile, but his sister only held a blank face as she observed each of the Wayne members. Finally, Jason got out together with you, all of them noticing your intertwined hands.

Your lover raised his brows, “Why are you all here?”

“Well, Bruce said we didn’t have to, but we wanted to welcome you here.” Dick shrugged, nodding at you. “Good to see you again, (Y/n).”

“Likewise, Dick.” You smile. “Greetings, ladies, gentlemen. The name’s (Y/n). This are my parents Gomez and Morticia,” Your parents greet them with a nod and friendly smile. “And my siblings Wednesday and Pugsley.” Pugsley waves his hand, enthusiastic to meet Jason’s family, while Wednesday crosses her arms above her chest and simply nods without a word.

Dick was grinning at your siblings because of their adorableness, not even the slightest bit bothered by Wednesday’s lack of emotion. Cassandra and Tim were gawking at Gomez and Morticia, how they seem so perfect and gorgeous, not only each on their own but together as well. Stephanie and Barbara beamed at you while Damian observed Wednesday and Pugsley, but there wasn’t any hint of malice or bad intention in his eyes — just curiosity. The Addams family sure are good looking individuals.

“Uh — hi,” Tim was the first to speak out of the Wayne’s, awkwardly waving his hand because of the fact he felt as if the Addams were ethereal beings due to their beauty. “You... You all look beautiful. I’m surprised.”

Wednesday’s brows raised as you tilted your head slightly to the side, looking confused. Morticia and Gomez exchanges a glance from not knowing what to say, while Pugsley smiled nicely at Tim despite the truth of being called beautiful feels like an insult. Yours and your family’s reaction immediately worried the Wayne children; none of you seemed pleased or happy with the compliment Tim gave, in fact, you kind of looked offended.

Seeing his siblings getting worried that they might’ve done something wrong, Jason clears his throat to catch everyone’s attention and successfully did so. “What he means is you all look deadly and loathsome. He wasn’t trying to offend you in any way, he just isn’t used to our ways of compliment.” He elaborated with a genuine look, and his siblings looked taken aback that he seemed really calm and gentle with you and your family. Jason have always had anger issues; his rage was explosive everywhere he goes and the main victims of it were criminals, but sometimes it was directed entirely at Bruce because of their unpleasant history.

He was never known as a calm person even in the family. Always seemed on edge, like a walking bomb that’s ticking every second, unknown by people how to stop it from exploding so suddenly. However, as Jason stands with you holding your hand tightly, his entire demeanor was almost completely different from what his family was used to. He was as calm as a wind that caresses the Mother Nature so softly in fear of disturbing her and as gentle as anyone who holds a little kitten in their hands — there was no ticking time bomb, just a soft man caring and pouring his heart and love out to his awesome lover. Jason looked comfortable around you and your family, extremely to the point that he hadn’t noticed practically calling himself an Addams. It made his siblings’ hearts swell with happiness.

“Oh,” Morticia sighed in relief, and even just that felt and looked so heavenly. “We’re sorry, my dear. We weren’t aware of that. I was afraid you found us tolerable.”

Tim chuckles, not really knowing what to say. He was visibly confused, though from what he was able to pick up on, negative comments seems to be taken as positive ones in your family. While most of them were confused just like Tim, Damian quickly understood how compliments worked within the Addams and smirked fondly.

Dick finally gathers his thoughts to clear his throat, “Well, let’s go in now, shall we?”

As your family nodded in sync, you turn to Jason while fixing your collar with the empty hand. “Love, do I look menacing? I have to look presentable when meeting your father. I despise looking good.” You stated, checking your outfit and trying to fix where you found unpresentable.

It’s rare to see you fidgeting and uneasy, making Jason smile. He knew you lose your composure only when it comes to him and it made him feel so loved, appreciated, and important. “You always look menacing, babe. Could scare off any children that passes by.” He compliments, bringing up your intertwined hands and kissing the back of yours.

The corner of your lips twitched up, squeezing his hand back as amusement and adoration shows themselves on your expression. “That’s very lovely. This is why I loathe you.”

The flirting between you and Jason was so natural that even Damian wasn’t affected by it — he’s mostly disgusted and cringed out when people flirt in front of him, but for some reason, Jason flirting with you didn’t bother him at all. Perhaps, because it isn’t a modern type of flirting where couples show disgusting amount of PDA or say things halfheartedly just to make their partner feel good, but rather, it’s one that uses old-fashioned yet romantic language which truthfully comes from the heart. You and Jason flirt with respect for each other, where neither of you objectify nor sexualize the other.

There was a clear unspoken understanding between you, which was shown in just this little flirtatious moment. The way you show your love for each other might be old-fashioned and out of ordinary in this modern day, but it’s honestly more romantic than any of the modernized ones.

“You two always flirt,” Wednesday spoke as she swiftly turned around to meet yours and Jason’s eyes. “It would’ve been more perfect if you were holding a human heart and giving it to each other.”

Barbara, Cassandra, and Stephanie all widened their eyes at her opinion — is she telling you to kill someone, take their heart out, and give it to each other to show your love? That wouldn’t be a romance anymore; it’ll be a dark romance.

However, you only shrugged your shoulders while Jason chuckled in amusement, as if that comment was as normal as seeing trees and nature everywhere. Neither of you were even concerned with what Wednesday said. “There’s precisely a possibility of that occurring, though it’s not yet now.” You responded calmly, as expressionless as Wednesday but slight amusement littered your tone.

The others tensed at your statement with the exception of Damian, who only smirked in pride, as they all remember the news of Joker getting dumped into Arkham Asylum by a vigilante that isn’t Batman. Like mentioned before, Joker was in a really bad shape when he was quite literally thrown into the Asylum, very visible signs of torture coating his body everywhere.

When Bruce visited, it was worse than how the media portrayed it to be. Tongue cut off, fingers broken and two missing, heavily concussed, several cuts along his face and body, and bruises covering most of his body parts. Worst of it all was that Joker didn’t seem like himself anymore; he does laugh — never had been a time when Joker didn’t laugh — but it wasn’t his typical laughter. All the mockery, self-confidence and cockiness weren’t there. Instead, fear and paranoia filled the laughter Bruce was so used to hearing. It was so uncharacteristic and very unlikely of Joker.

He’s finally put behind bars for good, but how the fuck can a vigilante absolutely destroy the Joker? He was indestructible yet you managed to break him so bad that his insanity got flooded with immense fear rather than the urge to kill everyone and everybody for no reason.

And as they stand in front of you now, none of them can even imagine how such a gentleman like you could’ve broke him completely. You seem so respectful, sweet, gentleman, and lovely that it’s almost impossible to believe you were the one who did it. But everyone should always expect the unexpected, right?

“Dick,” Jason’s voice snaps the oldest boy out of his own thoughts as he nods his head towards the door. “Let’s go in.”

The Grayson only hummed, turning around to open the door and gesture inside with his other hand, bowing a little to show respect. Morticia and Gomez smiled pleasantly and brightly, touched by his manners as they enter. Wednesday followed next with a usual expressionless face, and Pugsley said “thank you” first before entering, then Jason pulled you along with him at last. The door closed behind Damian who was the last to enter.

“Welcome,” Bruce immediately greeted as soon as all of your eyes met his, and your parents doesn’t hesitate to smile respectfully and kindly at him.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Wayne.” Gomez steps forward with his hand extended to shake Bruce’s hand before gesturing to his wife standing beside him. “She’s my wife Morticia and these are my children. Perhaps, you already know about (Y/n)?”

Bruce’s unreadable gaze shift from your father to you, attempting to figure out your characteristics by just looking. However, despite the nervousness you’re feeling, you didn’t fail to compose yourself and appeal confident with the usual emotionless expression on your face. Your gaze sparkling darkly under the light made him feel uneasy somehow, as if you knew all of his dirty little secrets and his entire characteristics as well as personality and attitude without analyzing that much.

Truth be told, you heard Bruce’s attitude from Jason when he opened himself up to you. Your Beloved was extremely traumatized by what happened with Joker that it affected the way he saw the world; it should’ve been that way too with Bruce because he’s Jason’s adoptive father — yet what really happened was the complete opposite.

Bruce may not have had an ill intent of dismissing or ignoring what happened to Jason, but to continue living like Joker didn’t kill his second son made him unlikable on your list. You’re a very respectful person as Gomez and Morticia didn’t raise you to be an awful entity, and you would never want to go against your lover’s adoptive father — although, that does not mean you accept his morals.

Hiding the unsettled feeling building up in his stomach, Bruce attempts to smile at you and shake your hand. “So you’re (Y/n). I’ve only ever heard once about you.”

Only the corner of your lips twitched, a barely formed smile appearing as you shake his hand, eyes still piercing through him like a dagger. “And I’ve heard a lot of... things about you, Mr. Wayne.” The calculative tone in your voice set an alarm within Bruce’s head and he would’ve pulled his hand away from your grasp if it wasn’t for his conscious mind forcing himself to calm down. “Be not afraid — You’ll see no judgement here.” You gave him a pointed look.

Jason quickly goes behind you and wraps an arm around your waist, the soft look on him being noticed by everyone present in the room. “Babe, let’s have dinner first. You’ll absolutely love Alfred’s cooking. They’re hella tasty.” He compliments, winking at Alfred who stood at the side. Alfred smiled with gratitude.

Bruce notices the way a small bit of light shine on your dead-like eyes as soon as you looked at Jason. “Well then, may we?” You shift your soft gaze from Jason to Bruce as you tilt your head slightly to the side.

From then on, the peaceful dinner began with mainly your parents and Bruce sharing thoughts about their own children while the others watch with a smile as Damian starts a conversation with you, the one he idolizes the most. It’s surprising to see Damian being really talkative — for the first time ever, he was being an actual child, asking you questions after questions with his eyes sparkling in joy. Not wanting to ruin this seemingly precious moment for Damian, everyone just decided to listen and chime in only once in a while when they feel like it. You were extremely patient with Damian the entire time he was bombarding you with questions, answering all of them without getting annoyed.

Jason felt relieved to witness the dinner going smoothly.

Truth be told, he was secretly worried about it turning into a disaster due to your vigilantism — Jason knew how Bruce felt about you after realizing you were the unnamed vigilante that nearly killed the Joker, and he thought Bruce would bring it up right away soon as dinner started. Luckily, he didn’t. It made Jason sigh in relief and relax on his seat, smiling as he watched you talk with his siblings.

However, perhaps it was too soon.

“(Y/n), how long have you been a vigilante?”

Jason immediately froze at Bruce’s question. The chit-chatting within the dining hall quickly falls into silence as everyone, too, froze — except the Addams family, who were still eating calmly and quietly, unbothered.

You first swallowed the food you were chewing before wiping your mouth elegantly with a napkin and not even hesitating to meet Bruce’s piercing eyes. “Since I was a child, Mr. Wayne.” You answered simply.

Bruce leans on the table, taking it slow. “Why did you become one?”

You felt Jason squeezing your hand under the table, as if to say you don’t have to answer everything. Though, you still did. “One of our ancestors was a vigilante, although he was hanged alongside his wife’s burning body when a rumour spread that she was a witch. He’s quite the legend within our family, you see.” Dick, Stephanie and Barbara’s jaws dropped. “I could say I was inspired by him. Although the sole purpose of my vigilantism is to bring justice to those who were rejected, neglected, and ignored by our unpleasantly ridiculous, worthless justice system.”

Feeling nervousness radiate off of Jason from how he squeezed your hand even more strongly, you gently hold and knead his hand to give him relaxation. After he stopped squeezing and slightly calmed down, you readjusted his hand so your and his fingers would intertwine with each other. You could feel him staring, but you never avoided eye contact with Bruce.

“To bring justice...” The Billionaire trails off meaningfully, as if it was something he wasn’t expecting to hear from you. “Was that your way of bringing justice?” The sharpness in his tone clearly gave everyone an idea of what he’s talking about.

However, despite the tension thickening and Bruce’s eyes narrowing in judgment, you kept your composure with an expressionless face, nerves surprisingly as calm as water flows. There wasn’t anything you were feeling at the moment, just the patience you need to deal with Jason’s shallow-minded father.

“I’m most definitely certain yours and my understanding of justice varies.” You immediately responded without missing a beat. Bruce’s eyes pierced through you, but your (e/c) eyes were much worse. It was reading him thoroughly, looking into his soul, his mind, feeling as if you knew everything.

“Though, I must admit for everyone’s knowledge, just so no one is left unaware — I tortured Joker not to seek justice for my lover, but to feed my vengeance and urge to revenge.” Your dark eyes glinted in amusement under the lights as the confession slips from your mouth with no restraints, like you’re just talking about nonchalant things. That’s not the only thing that made a cold shiver run down everyone’s spine; it was also the way your supposedly expressionless face completely shifted for the first time only to form a dark, prideful, egotistical look, accompanied by a smirk which obviously stated you weren’t regretful.

Now, there’s no way Bruce would take it lightly.

Sensing the events had turned out more worrisome, Jason tries to tug on your intertwined hands. “(Y/n), sweetheart, we should—”

Your cold gaze avert towards him, and it softened only a bit. “Apologies for interrupting you, my love, but leaving our dinner without finishing them would be disrespect to the person who cooked them for us.” You placed a gentle kiss on the back of Jason’s hand to assure him. “Worry not so much. Your father and I are only getting to know one another.”

As soon as your cold and piercing eyes returned to him, Bruce immediately feels an unsettling feeling in his gut as his heartbeat quickens. He could see it’s easy for you to deal with him or this kind of confrontation — the dangerous thing he noticed about you is that you never lose composure and patience regardless if the situation at hand benefits you or not. The only time you’ve probably ever lost your collectedness was with Joker, whom you actually had every right to get absolutely livid at. You love Jason more than words could ever tell, Bruce can easily see that, but your actions not lining up with his morals made it difficult for him to accept you willingly.

While the Addams simply minded their own business by continuing to eat, the others couldn’t find it in themselves to act like there was no tension rising in the air. They knew this confrontation was coming, but witnessing it unfold before their own eyes isn’t easy. Most of them had to swallow the lump that formed in their throat, with Damian being the only one who isn’t nervous in the slightest.

“Mr. Wayne, I have a deep understanding of your morals and the regulations you’ve set in this home... how none of your family is allowed to kill criminals.” You stated with a smile that was barely visible, though respectful nonetheless. However, it instantly vanishes. “But I must remind you one thing — just because you believe your morals are correct does not make it righteous in any way.”

That certainly struck a core in Bruce.

“We, humans, are incapable of finding the correct morals that all of humanity would agree on. You may believe your morals are absolute and there could be a wonderful soul who has developed the same belief as you, but it would never be everyone.” Your hand gracefully gestures to the people in the dining room to emphasize your point before it comes to rest on the table as you intertwine it with your other hand. “You see, humans are not humans without distinctive differences, and pushing your own standards on others likely causes more harm than it should help put them in control.”

The way you’ve said every word with such grace and elegance was nothing but fascinating as everyone found themselves suddenly voiceless. Your every gesture and movement showed an exquisite manner no other human beings were blessed with, alongside your use of sophisticated language that silently told your high level of intelligence. Other than that, Bruce was speechless from how much your words contained truth and wisdom only a philosopher has. He had never seen nor met someone so wise as you.

Perhaps, that’s why you’re so intimidating — every bit of your intelligence and attitude is your very own power no one else could ever have.

Taking a deep breath, Bruce clears his throat to find his voice and meets your eyes. “Are you implying I should accept how different yours and my morals are?”

“Precisely,” You answered without hesitation, sipping the wine Jason had poured for you when the dinner started. “My morality is concerned with the victims, not the perpetrators nor myself. Your morality is concerned with your inability to control your murderous urges when committed.” Bruce inhales sharply, making your eyes glint since he proved you right.

Gomez and Morticia smile to themselves as they felt proud of how you’re always able to point out things others usually don’t or can’t. Despite your brutal honesty, there is clearly respect within the way you speak to Bruce, which is why neither of them stopped you from defending and proving yourself. Helping you was not in their options; they knew you can handle yourself perfectly fine with the number of times you’ve put people in their place physically or verbally.

“(Y/n), baby... It’s okay,” Jason quietly attempts to stop you, knowing those words were intentionally spoken to strike a nerve in his non-biological father.

He knew how your blood boiled when you found out Bruce didn’t kill the Joker because of his ridiculous morality. He can still remember the way your eyes always darkened at even the slightest mention of Batman or Bruce Wayne. It took two years for you to overcome your wrath on the billionaire before you went after the Joker.

Before you could respond to your lover, Bruce caught your attention again with a simple question — “Why did you do it?”

You look back at him, seeing him staring at you and waiting for an answer. The corner of your lips lifted. “Well, wouldn’t we do anything for love?” Bruce's brows raised at the warm look on your face, not knowing your face was capable of making such expression. “No one hurts my soul and live freely without heavy consequences.” You shrugged, looking heavily smug.

Wednesday scoffed, “You should’ve just put a curse on him. It would have saved you all the trouble and exhaustion.” She looked at you as if what you did was the most incorrect thing in the world.

“No, should’ve electrocuted him!” Said Pugsley with a grin. “It didn’t make me insane when Wednesday did it to me, but it could break his mind.” Everyone’s face shifted into a look of shock at the sudden revelation.

“Now now, children.” Morticia interrupts, “What (Y/n) does to his enemies should be decided by him and him only. You don’t decide for (Y/n).”

“Well, Joker hurt Jason and he’s our brother. Nobody hurts my brothers and lives.” Wednesday responded immediately with empty eyes seeking vengeance, stabbing the steak with a fork and making Dick, Tim and Stephanie flinch.

You threw a knife at her with a single flick of your wrist, just narrowly missing her face, stabbing the wall behind her. She doesn’t flinch and instead gives you a look, which you ignore and reach for another knife to cut your steak with. “Manners, Wednesday. If you wish to stab something, search for someone that would be worthy of it, not a supper.”

“You missed on purpose,” Wednesday complains, annoyed.

You sarcastically smile, “Perhaps, I wouldn’t intentionally miss again if you’re respectful towards a supper.”

She glared, “Miss again and I’ll dump you in a paint full of pastels.”

You just rolled your eyes at her tactics while Jason bursts into laughter, knowing how much you and your family hate pastels. To the Addams, pastels and joyful people are the most insufferable matters in the world. There’s nothing you all hate more than that.

His father and brothers couldn’t believe what happened in front of them. None of the Addams, even Jason, cared that you just threw a knife at Wednesday. In fact, your parents were far from concerned as they only watched with warm smiles on their faces, because truthfully that was just you and Wednesday bickering. It’s nothing serious although others might disagree.

“Apologies for our children, Mr. Wayne.” Morticia says casually after Wednesday had returned to eating her dinner, making Bruce turn to look at her. “They’ve always bickered even when they were just a child. (Y/n) and Wednesday in particular, they liked to attempt burning each other alive ever since hearing the story of one of our ancestors who got burned at the Salem Witch Trials. Children love those stories, you know.” She places a hand on her chest, right above her heart, smiling at her children.

“Wait, hold on— You tried to burn each other alive?” Dick was the one who questioned what everyone couldn’t find their voices to ask about, too shocked and horrified that attempting to kill each other seems so natural and normal within the Addams family.

“Yes, for the record.” You answer without looking up. “Being burned alive is classified as the most painful, agonizing way to die, which is why it had been the perfect punishment for those who were accused of witchcraft in 1692 and 1693. My sister and I were intrigued to see whether this was a fact or just merely false information, so we would always attempt to burn each other in hopes of discovering the truth.”

“Funny thing is, they never did.” Jason cackles as Wednesday shot him an unamused look. “(Y/n) still wishes he could die being burned alive, though.”

The corner of your lips merely twitched in a soft smile as you kissed the back of Jason’s hand affectionately, eyes closed. “Have I ever mentioned I want you to do the honor?” You say with such a loving and adoring tone that Jason felt his heart swell, knowing this is somewhat a proposal that only an Addams would understand.

It was a traditional Addams way of showing they love the person rather than wrapping it up in just three words that rarely comes from the bottom of one’s heart. You would die for him, and only he could bring your ultimate demise, no one else. You were offering him your heart and soul, as well as life, permitting him to hold and treasure it for the rest of your lives. It was an implication that you would dedicate your life to him with nothing in return — you will do everything for him. It’s easy to kill — you’ve nearly done it with the Joker — but it’s not easy to live and die for him, but you will and you would.

Feeling overwhelmed with all the love you endlessly give and show, Jason couldn’t help but hide behind his empty hand in an attempt to hold his tears in, always being emotional whenever he gets the love he doesn’t think he deserves. But he does. You’ve never failed to show him he deserves everything you offer. God, how did he even end up with you? You’re so good to him, so loving and giving, Jason didn’t even expect you’ll be like this back when you two were just strangers building friendship. Jason can’t let you go anymore, and he would never even if you asked him to. He loves you just as much as you love him, although yours seem bigger than his.

The Wayne family witnessed Jason, the usually insufferable Todd who thrives off of violence, cry at the mere love and affection his lover gave. Jason was crying because you reminded him of how significant he was to your life. The big bad wolf, the ruthless Red Hood, the boy who had an immense thirst for vengeance, the boy whose blood is filled with utmost rage towards the world, was crying at the simple showcase of love.

And that’s how Bruce — no, his entire family — knew they failed to love him enough.

But they don’t have to make it up to him anymore. They can’t, because you’re already showering him with love and adoration and appreciation and everything he deserves. You did everything what they were supposed to do — what Bruce was supposed to do.

“Oh, mon amour...” You let go of his hand to gently hold his face with both hands, kissing away the tears that overflowed from his eyes. Jason stayed still, relishing how good you are, how soft you treated him as he gripped your gentle hands. Once you’re done kissing his tears away, he buried his face into your chest while wrapping his arms around you, embracing tightly. You kiss the top of his head, caging him in your arms as you gently run your fingers through his hair.

Jason closes his eyes within your embrace, inhaling your calming scent mixed with a cooling hint of cologne. It’s funny how you’ve always associated yourself with death and darkness, yet for Jason, your mere presence is a light at the end of the tunnel that makes him alive every day. “Thank you, (Y/n)...” He murmurs into your chest, barely audible, but heard by you nonetheless.

You gently scratch his scalp, not caring about your meals and attention solely focused on your lover. “For what exactly, chéri? I have not done anything for you to give me such gratitude, at least not that I remember. I have only been attempting to drown you in my love and affection, haven’t I? Are they worthy of your gratitude?”

He chuckled, “You know damn well they are.”

You tilt your head, a smile tugging at your lips. “Even so, do you truly believe it’s significant for me more than just your presence?” Jason slowly looks up at you, his mesmerizing eyes meeting yours, before shaking his head quietly. A satisfied look crosses your face at that, “There you go. It isn’t difficult to figure out now, is it?” Jason shakes his head, burying his face into your chest once again.

As you continue to comfort Jason, Damian stares at the sight with a weird look. “Todd is extremely quiet when he’s around (Y/n). It’s... weird.”

Dick nudged him, “Hey, let him be. Jay’s probably just very comfortable with him.”

“It’s still weird, though.” Tim insists.

Barbara and Stephanie watched with smiles while you kiss Jason’s forehead, too willing to accept you despite finding your family quite strange. People have different traditions and cultures anyway; they figured yours are just too extraordinary and unusual that don’t fit society’s standards. Being different doesn’t matter when it’s clear that you love Jason too much, in your own special way.

Cassandra glances at Bruce, who seemed to be in deep thought. “I don’t think you have any other choice but to accept him.” Her voice snaps him out of his thoughts, “Look at them. They’re very much in love. More than in love, I’d say. It looks like they were meant to be with each other. Like destiny’s the one who wrote them together.”

Bruce looked at the two of you, who obviously saw nothing but each other in your little world.

“Besides, he basically called bullshit on your morals. And you know all too well he’s beyond right.” Cassandra smirks, “I hope your pride doesn’t get in the way of welcoming a new member, dad.”

Bruce sighed.

Well, it’s inevitable that you’ll be a member one way or another. Cassandra was right about that, and although he didn’t want to admit it, Bruce knew he accepted you the moment you stood up against him. It’s not always there’s someone who is brave enough to speak up against the Bruce Wayne.

Though, he may have to teach you not to strangle literally every single person who mess with Jason.

© ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴅᴇsʀɪsᴇ. sᴛᴇᴀʟɪɴɢ, ᴘʟᴀɢɪᴀʀɪᴢɪɴɢ, ᴏʀ ᴜsɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ғᴏʀ ᴍᴏɴᴇᴛᴀʀʏ ɢᴀɪɴ ɪs sᴛʀɪᴄᴛʟʏ ᴘʀᴏʜɪʙɪᴛᴇᴅ. ᴀsᴋ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛɪɴɢ ᴏʀ ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪɴɢ.

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