#I made these with lemon cake before and they were so good | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mochinomnoms · 6 months

Note

Hi! I saw your hanahaki flower event and got interested by it. I was wondering if you can do prompt #18 with azul and a gender neutral reader please?

azul ashengrotto x gn!reader [tags] – fluff, slight angst, miscommunication [wc} – 4,442 prompt 18: “Is this normal here?” “Only for the emotionally unavailable folk.” “Ah, so it is.” note - ending is a bit weak cause it got a bit long. anyways i love my octomer still firmly believe azul deserves to get bitches and eat good food a floral inconvenience

Lavender: while best known for its herbal properties, lavender can also symbolize devotion to a person. You should give lavender to a person you see as pure and virtuous.

You stared at the array of purple colored drinks, sweets, and other treats laid out on the table in front of you.

To your left, several plates of candied lavender, a slice of honey lavender cake, and a grape lavender sorbet begged for your attention. On your right, an iced lavender vanilla latte, lavender lemonade, and a lavender spritzer looked ideal to quench your thirst. In the middle, directly in front of you, was the latest dish you were asked to taste test.

A beautiful Swiss chard, candied beet and goat cheese salad tossed in a honey-lavender dressing made your mouth water as the Mostro Lounge manager himself sat at his desk, watching you on the two-seater couch.

“Well? Go on. I made them all myself.” Azul gestured to the salad with a smug smirk, clearly pleased at your excitement. “Time is of the essence, the spring menu is due to release next week.”

“Oh! Yeah, right.”

You picked up a fork and pierced a beet and chard, generously covered in the dressing and goat cheese. Bringing the food up to your mouth, Azul raised his brows tentatively, watching as you opened wide, and just before you took a bite—

“Are you sure Jade didn’t put anything in this—”

“I promise, I made this all myself.”

“Okay.” You opened your mouth and raised your fork again…before bringing it down again.

“You sure—”

“Positive! Just. Eat. It.” Azul sighed exasperatedly. “I beg—and I don’t beg.”

“Okay! Okay, okay, okay.” You giggled, finally taking a bite of the salad.

A burst of sweet, woodsy and fresh flavor covered your tongue. Pleasant, succulent, and slightly sticky, you hummed in delight at the taste of the salad and dressing. You smiled at Azul, who rested his chin on his clasped hands. You couldn’t see his mouth from behind his hands, but you think he was smiling back at you.

“Azul! This tastes wonderful! Even better than the candies and tarts, oh my gosh!” You gushed as you took another bite of the salad, oblivious to the soft, periwinkle blush on the octomer’s cheeks.

“Try it with the lemonade, it pairs well.”

Nodding your head, you reached over to take a sip of the drink, a sprig of lavender embellishing the top. Humming again from the pleasant tang of the lemon and sweetness of the flower, you beamed at Azul.

“You’re so right! And with all the lavender as garnishes, it’s definitely screaming springtime!”

Whipping out your phone, you started to text, talking as you did. “It’s definitely gonna be a hit on Magicam, I bet I can get Cater to come and—”

“No! Uh,” Azul raised his voice, startling you, before clearing his throat and continuing, “you need to try the rest first!”

“Oh, for sure, but Cater can probably give you free advertising or something—”

In a small panic, seeing the chattery ginger’s profile and your thumb hovering over the DM button, Azul quickly rushed to you. He reached over to swipe the phone out of your hands while simultaneously shoving a spoonful of the grape lavender sorbet.

“Nonsense! I can handle my own advertising!” Azul chuckled nervously, “Now tell me, how does that one taste? Refreshing, yes?”

You choked on cold sweetness, a brief knock at the door drawing both of your attention as the door opened before you could respond.

Jade entered the Azul’s office, pausing at the scene before him. Azul hovering, practically on top, of you with a silver spoon shoved into your mouth. Jade blinked once before giving you both a small smile, tilting his head.

“I apologize, I didn’t mean to intrude on such a scene, I’ll come back later—”

“Don’t imply anything, Jade!” Azul briskly added some distance between you two, smoothing his ruffled suit.

You on the other hand, spoon now hanging freely from your mouth, gave Jade a wave and gave him a muffled, “Hi Jade, the sorbets good.”

Jade chuckled, covering his mouth with his hand.

“Is it? How wonderful, Azul’s been working particularly hard to make sure everything was to your liking—”

Azul cleared his throat, giving Jade a less than amused glare.

“What is it, Jade?” He sighed, adjusting his glasses. “You know I was to not be interrupted for the next hour.”

Jade bowed his head, still smiling as he apologized.

“Pardon my interruption, but it has actually been an hour and a half, and your next appointment is here.”

“What?” Azul looked at the wall clock with a confused expression, groaning as he saw the minute mark was indeed showing it was half past 3.

“Let my appointment know that I will be with them shortly, my dear?” Azul gave you an apologetic smile, bringing out a handkerchief from his vest and offering it to you.

“Here, I’m sorry to cut our time so abruptly. You still owe me your commentary on the free dishes, so make sure to leave your Saturday afternoon open.”

Rolling your eyes, you wiped your lips as you snarkily replied, “I owe you? Didn’t you ask me for my input on the dishes?”

“The free dishes, yes. Does 5 pm sound good?”

You hummed in affirmation, handing back the lilac fabric which Azul accepted. A sound of surprise left you as Azul dabbed the corner of your mouth, where a bit of the sorbet still remained.

The octomer wasn’t known for casual touches, rather he seemed adverse to them. It surprised you how easily those brush of hands and bodies leaning closer to each other came despite this. You suppose it just came naturally after months of study ‘dates’, shared lounge shifts, and late night talks.

Avoiding eye contact, Azul tenderly grabbed your hand and placed the handkerchief back in your hand. His hands clasped around your own, making your fingers grasp the fabric before pushing it to your chest.

“Keep it for now, it’s dirty anyways.” Azul muttered, snatching his hands back as if you’d burned him. “You can return it cleaned this weekend.”

Nodding your head, you chose to ignore the sudden shift in mood, though it hurt your chest. Instead, you gave Azul a warm smile as he turned his back to you as he cleaned.

“Mkay…I’ll see you later, Azul. Byeee~” You wagged your fingers to the still turned Azul, though you could see the tips of his ears turn light purple. Your eyes stayed on his form until Jade closed the door, in which you followed the teal-haired man out of the VIP halls to the rest of the lounge.

Following Jade through the corridors, you mused out loud, “I wonder if he knows…”

“Knows what, Prefect?”

You jumped slightly, startled as you remembered that you weren’t alone.’

“Fuck! I forgot you were here, you’re so quiet Jade, what the hell?”

Jade chuckled, looking down at you as he slowed his pace to walk side by side. “I apologize, but I was simply asking for clarification, who knows what?”

It took you a moment to process that you’d been speaking out loud, exclaiming, “Oh! Sorry I was just wondering if Azul knew that lavender’s my favorite flower. Yaknow, cause of all the lavender flavored stuff…”

You shrugged, aware of the mischievous glimmer in the golden eye studying your form.

“Probably not though, it’s a popular spring flavor. Not gonna complain about a coincidence though!”

Jade hummed, “Yes, a very pleasant coincidence.”

The rest of the walk was pleasant and relatively quiet as you filled the silence by humming a tune Azul had taught you for musicology. You arrived shortly to the lounge, waving at Floyd through the kitchen door window. Floyd waved enthusiastically back, ladle in hand.

Before you could walk off to the exit, Jade grabbed your shoulder, leaning down to ask, “Prefect, would you like to meet me in the library? My shift will end soon, and I’ll be studying for a botany exam. I’d enjoy the company.”

You shrugged and nodded. “Sure, Cater’s gonna meet me and drop off Grim there in a bit anyways.”

“Wonderful, I’ll see you shortly!” Jade waved you off, turning back to the host stand as you left the lounge to the Octavinelle entrance.

A pass through the mirror and a short walk, you soon found yourself at the entrance to the library. There you saw the familiar head of ginger cradling a sleeping Grim in his arms!

“Cater!” you whisper shouted, grinning and waving your hand excitedly.

“Hey babes!” Cater greeted you, giving you a soft smile and wink. “How’d the date go? Gimme all the deets!”

You scoffed, scratching between Grim’s ears as the little familiar sleepily mumbled, “Wasn’t a date, I was taste testing for Azul.”

“Uh-huh, just a private taste-testing between you and the Octavinelle housewarden?” Cater cooed, handing you Grim. “Then why’d you have me take Grimmy and get him all stuffed and tuckered out at the unbirthday party, hmm?”

“He said he made it specifically for me to taste! Grim would’ve eaten it all otherwise…” you pouted, squinting at Cater as he shrugged and gave you a cheeky grin.

“Whatever you say babe, but like, Azul is super infamously known to never give out gifts without expecting something in return.”

“He is getting something!” You huffed as the two of you entered into the library, following your upperclassman as he plucked books for your alchemy class and he for potion making.

“He’s getting my valuable input before announcing his spring menu!”

Cater gave you another wink before drawling, “Sureeeee, whatevs you say babe! Just don't be surprised by the wedding bells in the near future, I better be the man of honor!”

You two bickered for a bit longer, you more so than Cater, who was content teasing you. Once you both had grabbed the materials needed for class, you searched for a table to get settled before Grim eventually woke back up and begged to get dinner.

A familiar shade of teal caught your eye as you remembered Jade’s invitation to study.

“Ah! I forgot I was gonna meet Jade and study with him!” You waved at Cater, who followed suite, walking over to the eelmer. “Text me later, I’ll try and see if I can’t convince Azul to let you get exclusive pics of the spring menu!”

“Kayyyy, I’m sure you’ll convince your little boyfriend easily enough with a few smooches.” Adding insult to injury, Cater blew you a kiss. “Just pucker them up and boys will melt like putty, trust me I know!”

Rolling your eyes, you ignored your friend’s giggles in favor of greeting Jade with a quiet hello.

“Hey Jade, how’s the studying going?”

Yellow and olive eyes met your own as Jade smiled back, nodding his head politely. “Well. I finished my own work a while ago, so I’ve been browsing some journals on magical flora and diseases.”

Jade gestured to the array of books on the table. Sure enough, the books were labeled as magical pharmaceuticals and botany. You settled Grim on one of the spare chairs and placed your own books on a spare spot on the table. As Jade read a page on the medical benefits of a tentacle looking mushroom, you peered curiously at the other books.

You read the page of one of the books Jade had out, labeled ‘hanahaki’.

“What’s this?”

“Hmm? Oh.” Jade gave you a soft smile, though his eyes glimmered with mischief.

“That. I was simply researching it as a favor for a friend.”

“A favor? From you? Riiight.”

Jade pouted, giving you a sad look. “Why do you doubt my kind-hearted nature?” He continued giving you faux sniffles and wiping the corner of his eyes. When you first started hanging around him and his brother, it took you a while to figure out that Jade liked to tease your soft-hearted nature. He said it was to toughen you up for life in the cold, merciless waters under the sea that you’d eventually call home.

Whatever that means.

“Am I not allowed to simply do something out of the kindness of my heart?”

You stuck your tongue out before replying, “Are you doing this out of the ‘kindness’ of your heart, or cause you want something out of it?”

“Hmm, both?”

Jade winked as you stifled a giggle.

“Sure, both are good…who’s it for anyways?”

Jade held a finger up to his mouth. A secret that he was not privy to share. Despite you leaning in with an expectant look, Jade remained silent, giving you a closed eye smile. Shrugging you looked at the page the book was open to.

“Flower sickness?”

“Yes, a gift from the Flower Bride, it causes the afflicted’s romantic feelings to physically manifest into their beloved’s favorite flora. Typically through flu-like symptoms.”

You winced as you reached up to rub your throat. “Like, coughing up roses? Sounds like a pain.”

“It can be, most find it inconvenient, as it tends to trouble those that repress their feelings. Especially those that would rather deny or remain oblivious to them.”

“Is it normal here?”

Jade pursed his lips, looking as if he was in deep thought before responding, “Only for the emotionally unavailable sort.”

Snapping a finger at him you cheekily replied, “So it is then?”

The two of you shared a laugh before resuming your browsing, Jade now leaning over to read the article with you, thumbing the pages as you read out loud.

“Most recognized symptoms include coughing petals, flowers, and even bouquets in the occurrence of strong feelings. However, sneezing the previously mentioned symptoms is also common.”

“Ah, here.” Jade slid his finger along the paragraph below. “More severe cases can include the patient sprouting flora from their pores, ears, and hair follicles. How interesting.”

You clicked your tongue. “Sounds annoying, ooh wait! ‘Common Flora’!”

Listing off the flowers from the second page, you were blissfully unaware of the entertained expression on the twin’s face.

“Let’s see, roses, makes sense. Orchids, gardenias, oh! Even lavenderrrrrrr…“

I was just wondering if Azul knew that lavender’s my favorite flower.

Azul is super infamously known to never give out gifts without expecting something in return.

I made them all myself.

You drew out the last syllable, eyes hyper focused on the word printed before you as you processed your thoughts like a factory conveyor belt. Slowly turning your head to stare at the teal-haired man next to you, Jade simply kept his small, polite smile as he stared right back.

“...Jade?” You tilted your head.

“Prefect?” Jade did the same.

“Where’s Azul been getting all the lavender?”

“Oh, well,” Jade paused, sifting through the book in favor of letting you stew in suspense. “A few weeks ago he started keeping large bouquets of them all over his room and office, though the latter were used for the dishes he made you.”

“You mean the ones for the new menu?” Maybe you were misinterpreting the whole thing. Yeah, no Azul wouldn’t waste a bunch of lounge supplies on you. Lavender is a popular spring flavor, and your a good friend that’s willing to give him the time of day to test his dishes out. Of course, you’re just being silly—

“New menu? You must be mistaken, we aren’t releasing a new menu anytime soon.” Jade rested his head on his palm, now giving you a rare grin.

“He was quite stressed making the dishes to your liking, seeing as it’s quite a common octomer courting tact—oh!”

Jade covered his mouth in shock, feigning embarrassment as he continued, “I’m afraid I’ve said too much, you’ll keep that last bit between us, won’t you?”

“…You’re an ass, you know that?”

“I’m aware, what are you going to do about it? I just ask that you’re gentle with me.”

Everyone within a 1-mile radius could hear your exhausted sigh of annoyance.

The soft glow of the aquarium walls under the bookshelves brought about an ethereal glow to the VIP Room. A soft, soothing blue glow that did very little to actually sooth your nerves. It paired well with the lavender colored walls.

Speaking of lavender, a warm teapot of lavender Earl Grey was settled on the coffee table, along with containers of sugar and milk. To the right was a plate of iced lavender cookies, small purple buds garnishing the tops of the cookies.

“Cookies, huh? I thought you were more of a cooker than baker, Azul?”

Azul, who was writing down your feedback from the baked brie with lavender honey that you’d just had, hummed in response.

“Yes my dear, I had Trey working for me after the last Camp Vargas, though he was kind enough to leave me a few handwritten recipes in exchange for ending his week-long employment with me early.” Azul explained, looking rather satisfied with himself.

“I experimented with one of the recipes and was able to come up with the cookies before you.” His eyes met yours as he smirked and smugly asked, “They’re to your liking, yes? I made them with your sweet tooth in mind.”

There it was, Azul made these for you. Azul Ashengrotto, who didn’t give so easily without a cost, made them specifically for you in mind, though it seemed that that same train of thought didn’t process in his head. Based on his self-satisfied smirk, and the notes he was taking, Azul was happy that the apparent courting ritual was going well.

“Yeah! I like them a lot, they go well with the tea. Um—” You paused, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves before continuing with the plan you and Cater came up.

“Did you make the tea blend for me too? It tastes wonderful, I’d expect nothing less!”

Azul brightened, delighted at your attention and praise, and began to “subtly” brag, “Yes! Normally Jade makes the tea blends for the Lounge, but I personally selected this specific variety to pair well with the lavender.”

A fondness grew in your heart as you listened, not really processing though, to Azul describe the subtle differences between his tea blend and traditional ones.

“This specific blend would be most reminiscent of Early Grey Crème, which isn’t as widely known, but I thought would be better for you as it’s smoother.”

“Really?” You gasped, feigning innocence as you asked, “And you made it all yourself? You’re amazing, Azul!”

With a closed-eye smirk, Azul adjusted his glasses and nodded. “Yes, well with all my family’s experience in the food industry, it’s to be expected. But do continue to sing praises my dear, it’s much appreciated.”

You giggled, tilting your head as Azul resumed his note taking, it was no doubt he was recording your reactions and storing them for future use. The real question was whether to figure out the best way to bribe you with the promise of your favorite foods, or to ensure that his future beloved would have their own beloved treats when with him.

“It’s appreciate that you made this all for me in mind…which makes me think…Azul?”

“Yes?’

Azul was now focused on writing rather than on you. Taking another deep breath, you continued.

“Your cooking for me reminds me of a common saying back home…that a way to one’s heart is through their stomach.”

Azul froze, the soft scratching of his fishbone pen suddenly silenced, from the corner of your eye, you could see Azul’s eyes widen and face go blank.

“Is that something said here too?”

“It’s not a completely foreign phrase to me, so I’d say so.”

You hummed, plucking one of the iced cookies from the tray, sauntering over to the silver-haired man. Azul looked up at you, leaned back into his plush chair, lacing his fingers together as he waited for you to continue.

“I bet, with your mother owning a restaurant and everything…though it has me thinking…”

Azul raised a brow as you nibbled on the cookie, while you allowed him to stew in suspense for a few seconds.

“You’ve never actually cooked at the lounge, have you? Sure you’ve tested out some recipes, making sure they come out to your satisfaction…but it’s always someone else doing the cooking for the customers.”

Taking a seat on the edge of the desk, glowing baby blue eyes met your own, making you wonder if his name was a deliberate choice or a coincidence.

“Yes…” Azul answered slowly, hesitantly really, as he tried to figure out your angle. “I’m a very busy person, and I haven’t got all day-”

“And yet, you cooked for me.”

Azul shut his mouth at that, normally plush lips thinning as his fair cheeks softly turned periwinkle.

“Not only that, but you cooked for me using my favorite flower…tell me, my dear,” He audibly choked at the nickname, clenching and unclenching his hands into fists. “Just how did you know I love lavender?”

You leaned down, Azul’s eyes widening as the distance between you two becoming smaller. Sudden close contact grew a burning embarrassment in Azul, who leaned further into his chair until he no longer could. There was a visible panic in his eyes, which made you feel a bit bad for putting him in such a situation.

Azul cleared his throat, composing himself and saving face as he looked at you with a stony expression. “I…have my sources.”

That wasn’t good, you didn’t need the octomer shutting you out to avoid even the slightest humiliation at the hands of a crush.

“Sources? Like what? Sam? The botanical gardens?” You looked off to the side, noticing a vase with a few stems of lavender. “Like hanahaki?”

A screech accompanied Azul as he abruptly stood, pushing back the chair and stared at you with a frigid glare, lips thin and soft eyes now hardened.

“I don’t appreciate this joke of yours. If you want to our time together making fun of me, I suggest we end it here.”

Panic turned your blood ice cold as you tripped over your feet, now chasing Azul as he went for the door.

“W-what? No, that’s not what—”

“I think it’s best you leave now,” Azul dodged your attempts to grab him, refusing to make eye contact. “I’ll show you out.”

“Please, Azul, I wasn’t making fun!” A ball was forming in your throat, making your voice tremble and breath stutter.

As he turned the doorknob, door just cracking open, Azul turned to look at you only to falter as his face fell at the sight of the tears falling from your face.

“A-are you crying?!” He shut the door close as he rushed over, hovering his hands over your frame. “Why are you crying—”

“Cause I thought you liked me! Jade said—well he didn’t actually say, he heavily implied—that you had hanahakiiii…” You drawled out the last bit of your sentence as Azul’s face turned purple, looking horrified as you finished your sentence.

Azul stuttered out, “H-he implied w-what!? Damn that eel—ACK!” before heaving and gasping for breath. As he suddenly collapsed on his knees, you following suit in worry, Azul began making a choking sound.

Though you couldn’t see his face, you could see the clumps of wet buds fall out of his mouth, covered in inky spit, eventually an entire bunch of lavender heaving out of him as well.

“Auughhh…that—” Azul coughed again, looking up at you with a combination of ink and spit dripping from his mouth. “—was unbecoming of me, I’m sorry…wasn’t supposed to go like this.”

Reaching for your pocket, you took Azul’s handkerchief and gently grabbed his chin to look at you. Azul visibly relaxed as your wiped the mess from his lips, fingers moving to comb through his hair. Sighing as he slowly looped an arm around your waist, Azul ,.....

“I should’ve made Jade sign another NDA when I saw him snooping through my bedroom, should’ve known.”

You let out a breathless chuckle, leaning into his grasp. “Yeah, probably. If it helps I shouldn’t have listened to Cater’s dating advice.”

“You what?!” Azul exclaimed, looking at you dubiously, “You asked Cater for advice?”

“He seemed like he knew what he was talking about!” You defended yourself, pouting. “He noticed that you were cooking for me, when you never do for anyone else.”

He sighed, rolling his head back to look up at the ceiling instead of your face.

“As you said—which I’m assuming was one of the things Jade told you—preparing and providing food to our mates is a courting ritual for Cecaelians. I follow the same routine as my mother: create and test recipes, then pass along the instructions to my subordinates and ensure it’s top quality.”

Azul continued, holding your hand as he stood, guiding you up with him. “We octofolk were shunned out of merfolk society for a longtime, even with the legends of the Sea Witch’s benevolence.”

Reaching for one of the cookies still on the table, Azul brought it up to your mouth, tapping it to your lips.

“It shows that no matter our status, we can provide for the one we’ve devoted ourselves to.”

Bringing a thumb to your mouth, Azul softly pulled your lips apart to feed you. A fond, but embarrassed warmth flushed over you, a matching red blush on your cheeks to Azul’s periwinkle one.

“That’s…sweet.” You smiled, taking the cookie from Azul’s hand, much to his surprise. “And really corny, especially for you.”

Azul clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes as you took a bite of the cookie.

“I’m attempting to be genuine, and you’re calling me corny? How insulting!” Azul huffed, though he gave you a faint smile. “I hope you’re going to apologize.”

“Aww, poor Azul. Of course I can give you an apology, if you’ll accept it.”

He gave you a raised brow, confused but still smiling. “Of course, why wouldn’t I—”

A yelp escaped Azul’s lips as you pressed your own lips against his, smiling as you did. Azul sighed into your mouth, tasting the lavender and vanilla on your tongue while you smiled against his lips. His hands cradled your own, keeping you in place as Azul returned the affection with chaste kisses pressed all over your face, neck, and hands

“Wait—ah! Hehe~” You laughed as Azul’s kisses tickled you, weakly pushing him away as he moved to kiss the tops of your hands. “That tickles, stop!”

“Heh, come on now my dear.” Azul cooed, pulling you back in to wrap an arm around your waist, grabbing the cookie from your hands to feed it to you, which you accepted.

“Let me keep all your affection to me, and mine to you. I am quite a greedy lover, you know?”

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #twst azul x reader #azul ashengrotto #twst azul #a floral inconvenience #abyssthing198

483 notes · View notes

hollytoshaw · 20 days

Text

noisy neighbour part two | harry lewis

✩ ✩ ✩

summary: in which y/n owns a coffee shop and harry is her noisy neighbour

word count : 5.7k

part one here

a/n: this is part two of my noisy neighbour series!!! read part one before this <3 there will be more parts to this as its a proper slow burnerrr. sorry for the slow updates i haven't forgotten about this series lol xxx

masterlist <3333

✩ ✩ ✩

Y/N had come to the conclusion that life was much better when she didn’t let silly lies get in her way. It had been a week since she had come clean to her noisy neighbour, or Harry, as she now knew him, and life couldn’t get any better.

After the pair had laughed about her moment of foolishness and how they were both a little too loud for their own good, they were able to move past it all and properly get to know the person they were living next door to.

Y/N found out more about Harry’s whole ‘Youtuber’ lifestyle. He was part of a group of seven boys that made videos that came out every Sunday, but he also had other channels in which he’d play computer games and do funny reaction videos—the source of all that playful shouting she had heard through the walls. He told her that he’d gotten bored of his old apartment and wanted a change of scenery, so he chose the small-scale but nonetheless nice flat next door to hers. He lived alone and was 27; his favourite colour was blue, and his favourite cake was chocolate. He liked coffee,cycling, surfing, and the occasional beer, and he loved travelling anywhere in the world, near or far; he just loved exploring places. He had two younger siblings, a brother and a sister, and was from a little channel island named Guernsey. Y/N had never been.

She told him all the little details she could think of about herself in return. She was always sort of bad at introductions, cringing when they used to say ‘’Tell us three facts about you’’ in school, never knowing what to say. But she managed nonetheless. She told him all about her dream of having a cafe of her own and how she came to do so. She loved old music, mainly Abba, to which he laughed and told her he knew already, making a playful jab at the singing he had heard from next door. She too lived alone but was 26; her favourite colour was green, and her favourite cake was lemon. She also liked coffee, not so much cycling or surfing, and opted for cider whenever she went to the pub. While she hadn’t been travelling much herself due to paying off her university debts and then starting up her coffee shop, she still shared the desire to travel anywhere in the world—far away from London.

It was such a breath of fresh air for Y/N. Owning a cafe all on her own meant early mornings and late nights, and her weekends were either spent visiting her parents or nestled away in her flat watching episodes of Vanderpump Rules or trying new recipes for baked goods that she was thinking about selling in the cafe. Because of this, she had found it hard to find time to make friends, and while she had her fair share, she barely saw them; they either had big city jobs or were living outside of London and starting a family. It just felt nice for Y/N to just sit and chat with someone a similar age to her and talk about nonsense for a while.

While the conversation the pair shared was cut short by Harry needing to get to work and record a podcast, they shared numbers (only in case one of them got a parcel for the other, of course), and Harry said he’d pop back in soon to finish where they left off.

So that was it. It had been a week, and she hadn’t seen him since, but that was all she could think about. It wasn’t even like Y/N had a crush, or so she convinced herself, but she longed to talk to him again; it just felt nice. While the occasional old lady that came into the cafe was great to chat with, asking away about how her day was going or what their plans were for the day, she still preferred the little chat she had with Harry; it just felt different, and she couldn’t put her finger on why.

But then she got all in her own head. Maybe he didn’t come back in because he realised she was a bit weird, having lied about living next door and that he was only being friendly and entertaining the conversation, but in reality, he didn’t want to be talking to her at all. Y/N knew she was probably getting a bit ahead of herself, but she couldn’t help but think the worst. She had always been a bit of a pessimist.

It was now Monday again, and the cafe had just begun to die down after the lunch rush. After cleaning tables and putting cups and saucers back in place, Y/N finally felt like she had it all under control. There was no one in the shop, and looking at the time, the clock read 1:00 p.m., a perfect chance for Y/N to have her lunch break. She had scoffed a croissant earlier that morning and topped herself up with flat whites throughout the day, but now she was starving. She walked over to the door, flipping the ‘open’ sign to ‘close’ and walked back behind the counter to prepare herself something nice to eat.

She wasn’t long into making a ham and cheese toastie when she heard three loud knocks on the glass door. Usually she’d shout ‘’We’re closed’’ and continue what she was doing, but another three knocks followed, and she thought she’d just let them in and eat her sandwich another time.

As she turned around, she saw a hooded figure standing outside the door—it was lashing rain in London today (shocker) —but she could barely make their face out through the raindrops on the door. Nearing closer, she realised it was Harry. After a week, he’d returned. Maybe her pessimism wasn’t always right.

Letting him in, she moved back as he took his coat off, the black puffer soaked from the awful weather.

''Hello, you,’’ he smiled, lifting the hood of his jumper from his head. ‘’Didn’t realise you closed this early.’’

‘’Hiya,’’ she smiled back. ‘’Just closed for lunch, that’s all.’’

Furrowing his brows, he replied, ''U-Oh, right, I can come back later if you’re busy.’’

She laughed, taking his coat from him to hang it up on the coat stand next to the door. ‘’Don’t be silly. I’m only having a toastie, nothing special.’’

‘’Lovely stuff,’’ he said, clapping his hands together and following her towards the counter.

‘’How’ve you been?’’ she asked. ‘’Horrible weather today, isn’t it?’’ Classic brit filling empty silence with talks of the weather.

‘’I know, proper pain in the arse,’’ he laughed. ‘’Been good, though. Just back from a holiday with the boys, but so typical, I’ve come back to the shittest weather possible.’’

''Ooh, lucky you,’’ Y/N smiled as she resumed the making of her lunch. ‘’Go anywhere nice?’’

‘’Went to the Maldives for two days for a video,’’ he said nonchalantly, ‘’was a good laugh though.’’

‘’Wow, that must've been unreal.’’ she gasped, placing her sandwich on a small green plate before looking back at him. ‘’Can I get you anything to eat? I feel like a knob if I’m sat scoffing my face and I’ve not made you anything.’’

Harry smiled, watching as the girl moved her plaited hair so that it was out of her face. He thought she was quite pretty with her hair tied back, freckled cheeks, and a peach-coloured blusher on her face. She was wearing her same old green apron, but instead of the jumper she had on the last time he saw her, she had a striped long-sleeve top paired with black jeans. Yeah, she was really quite pretty, he thought.

‘’No, I’m fine, thanks. I got a meal deal in the airport earlier,’’ he paused. ‘’And I’m trying to keep off the cakes, but they do look bloody brilliant today.’’

Y/N laughed, ''Well, you’re in the wrong place if you’re trying to keep off the sweet stuff. I got cakes coming out of my ears in this place.’’

The conversation felt easy for Y/N. It was almost weird to think about their first few conversations, stiff and awkward, thinking the other was a bit rude and not really interested in making small talk. But now, it felt like they could talk for ages; the initial uneasiness was now a distant memory.

‘’So what brings you here?’’ she started. ‘’Surprised you’re not straight to bed after that long flight.’’

They sat down at a little table in front of the counter, Y/N enjoying her lunch and Harry watching, fumbling with his fingers.

''Oh, trust me, I’m knackered.’’ he laughed. ‘’But I thought I’d pop in. Remember, I said I would last time, finish where we left off, and all.’’

Course Y/N was remembered. It had been all she thought about for the last seven days.

‘’Oh right, yeah’’ she said between mouthfuls of her sandwich. ‘’Well,tell me all about this Maldives trip then.’’

✩ ✩ ✩

A few days had passed since Y/N and Harry’s last encounter. And that was all she could think about.

After leaving her cafe to go back to his flat, the pair shared a few jokey text messages: Harry sending her random pictures he’d taken on his holiday and Y/N sharing snaps of new baked goods that she’d made, with him responding with a classic ‘Save me one.’ It was nothing serious, but it was nice to have playful conversations away from her busy working day and Harry’s video shoots.

Despite only a small proximity separating the pair, Y/N longed for the next time she might bump into him, almost hoping that a parcel would get delivered to the wrong address to give her some reason to knock on his door or that he’d finally succumb to his sweet tooth and trod down the stairs to try whatever fresh baked treats she had to offer.

It made her laugh that only a few weeks ago she’d dreaded the thought of seeing him and hated the thought of having to make small talk with him, but now it was all she’d thought of. And don’t get her wrong, she was no romanticist or anything of that sort but when she found something she liked or in this case, a person she liked talking to, it was hard for her to take her mind away from them.

Another day had come to an end for Y/N. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee lingered in the air as she wiped down the last table in her cosy little shop. It had been a long day for her, filled with the hustle and bustle of customers coming in and out. She felt swept off her feet trying to make sure everything ran smoothly and made a mental note that maybe it was time to hire some help.

Now, as the clock struck closing time, Y/N couldn’t wait to retreat to the comfort of her upstairs flat. Locking up the cafe, she made her way up the narrow staircase and into her home. The familiar creak of the stairs under her feet echoed in the empty hallway—a comforting sound that signalled the end of another day’s work.

As she reached the door, she let out a contented sigh—peace at last. Turning the key in the lock, she pushed open the door and stepped into her sanctuary.

The soft glow of string lights greeted her, casting a warm and inviting atmosphere through the room. She’d forgotten to turn them off the night before and was surprised the batteries had lasted the day. Kicking off her shoes, she padded across the hardwood floor to her living area, where a plush green sofa beckoned her to sink into its comforting embrace.

Her days always went the same after work. She’d come upstairs, sit down on the sofa, and stick some random television show on for some background noise, needing to just sit for a moment after being on her feet all day. The stress of the day always melted away as she allowed herself to just be in the moment, relishing the peace and quiet of her own space.

Next to the sofa, a stack of books awaited her attention. She had been reading some Dolly Alderton novel that a friend had recommended, and so far she was loving it. There was nothing quite like getting lost in the pages of a good book; all she needed now was a nice cup of tea, and she’d be in heaven.

It’d felt like hours had passed as Y/N finally got to the end of another chapter. The gentle hum of the TV in the background continued as Y/N settled down the book and turned her attention to her phone, wondering if she had any new messages from a certain someone. And lo and behold, she did.

Clicking the message open, she saw a picture that Harry had taken from what she assumed to be his living room. Her view was similar, just at a different angle—the Shoreditch’s streets looking equally as ‘London’-esque from both their windows. He had added a little message to the bottom of it: ‘This weather is mental. Think it calls for tea and some cake.’ Y/N hadn’t seen the message with her phone on ‘Do not disturb’ and her eyes well focused on the piece of fiction she was reading, and he had sent it over twenty minutes ago, but she assumed he was still next door, not wanting to dare step out in the treacherous rain.

She wondered if he was hinting at her to send him a text and offer some cakes from downstairs. Or maybe even invite him over to try the pastries she’d sent him a picture of only a few days ago. Of course, Y/N didn’t really know if he was hinting at anything, but she really hoped he was. The time on her phone showed it was just past 7:00 p.m., and having eaten a small lunch earlier in the day, she too was in the mood for some cake and tea, not really bothered by the thought of cooking dinner and having to wash up loads of pots and pans in the kitchen.

She lifted herself up from the comfy sofa and into her kitchen space, opening the fridge to see if she had any nice delights to cure her craving. There sat a small blue tupperware, inside two vanilla cupcakes, left over from the day, perfect. Two. Perfect.

Whether he had been hinting or not, Y/N took the tupperware in hand and stuffed her feet into her fluffy slippers. Unlocking her door and making her way down the stairs towards his door, she felt giddy. She thought it was a nice gesture to turn up with a little treat that he had longed for, and she hoped maybe the two could share a nice chat over a cup of tea as they looked out on the London rain. It’d be nice.

As she got to the door, she lifted her hand up, ready to press the buzzer to his blue door, but as she did, she heard the faint strains of music drifting through the air, accompanied by a girl’s laughter. Her hand froze, and a wave of disappointment washed over her. Doubt crept into Y/N’s mind, and she couldn’t bring herself to interrupt whatever moment Harry was sharing with another.

With a heavy sigh, Y/N turned on her heel and retreated back up the stairs to her flat. She knew she was being silly, but she felt a sting in her heart, and she couldn’t shake the image of Harry’s front door from her mind.

Back in her kitchen. Y/N set the cupcakes on the counter; her appetite for something sweet was now long gone. She wondered if she had misinterpreted Harry’s kindness and their conversations as something more. Sure, the two had shared a few playful texts, updates throughout the day, and random pictures, but that was the extent of it so far. Y/N felt like an idiot.

She never did respond to Harry’s text that night.

✩ ✩ ✩

Another few days passed, and Y/N had finally gotten over her little strop. Well…sort of. She didn’t have much to go on other than the fact that she’d heard a woman’s voice and lots of laughter, which she knew didn’t necessarily mean Harry had a girlfriend, but she'd rather nip her feelings in the bud than wonder about the what-ifs that could of been had he opened the door. Plus, Y/N felt a bit silly. He’d never given an indication that their chats were anything more than friendly, and the texts they shared weren’t suggestive in any way—I mean, you could probably send your mother the same things. So she knew it was better to cut her little strop short before she got herself all tangled up in her feelings.

She’d had another long week in the cafe, busy with big orders and endless amounts of coffee, and she knew it was definitely time she put out an advertisement for a job vacancy. But that was a job for another day as she was currently getting ready to go out with a few friends in a pub just near Old Street. It had been a while since she’d found the time to meet up with people (with their big city jobs and her never ending hustle in the cafe) and considering she’d given Harry radio silence for the past few days, this was the most socialising she’d done outside of the occasional old lady in the cafe. So, Y/N was buzzing. She reached for her favourite pair of Adidas Sambas, their sleek black design accentuating her style. The leather was very worn despite carrying many stories of past adventures. Y/N made a mental note that she’d get a new pair out of her next paycheck. Her outfit was bold yet chic, a lot different from her usual jeans, t-shirt, and green apron combo. A leopard print midi skirt is paired with a black fitted crop top and a leather jacket over her shoulders to give the outfit unmistakable flair. She always enjoyed dressing up, even if it was just for a quick pint—it just gave her something to do and was a nice change from her usual get-up.

With a flick of her wrist, she grabbed her essentials—a phone, cardholder, and keys—and headed out the door. It wasn’t raining in London for once, with spring slowly creeping in, so Y/N didn’t bother with an umbrella, deciding her jacket was enough protection from whatever the weather had in mind. It felt nice as she walked along the busy Shoreditch streets with the city lights beckoning, couples holding hands, groups of friends laughing—it made her heart squeeze, and she felt like the night was promising her excitement and all sorts of possibilities.

The pub night was everything Y/N had hoped it would be. It had been a welcome contrast of warmth and laughter, and seeing her friends, who usually worked nine to five, was a breath of fresh air. With flushed cheeks from all the lively conversations and talks of fond memories, not to mention the five pints of fruity cider she had drank, Y/N left the pub with the cheesiest grin on her face. A few kisses to the cheek and warm hugs later, Y/N waved goodbye to her group of mates and headed back towards the Old Street roundabout.

The city seemed quieter now; most of its energy was subdued despite it only being 10:00 p.m. Walking around familiar streets, she felt a sense of comfort in solitude but wished she hadn’t forgotten her airpods because there’d be nothing better than a peaceful stroll accompanied by her favourite indie music playlist in the back.

The pub was only about a ten-minute walk from her flat, so it didn’t take too long, and Y/N felt herself subconsciously speed walking as the cold London air got to her, now regretting her choice of jacket. As she neared closer to her doorstep, she could see a hooded figure placed on it, a backpack in front of them, and a phone in their hand as they scrolled aimlessly. Her eyes felt a bit hazy from the cider, and she approached apprehensively, her mind wandering to the possibilities of it being a crazy ex-boyfriend or a drunken friend hoping to rest their heads for the night. But as she moved closer, her anxiousness eased. It was only her neighbour. Harry. Harry, who she’d given the cold shoulder to for the past few days.

His friendly face looked up at the sound of her approaching footsteps. A slightly flustered expression on his face.

‘’Hi Harry,’’ she smiled. ‘’You alright?’’

Getting up from his crouched position, he moved aside, letting her stand in front of her own door. ''Oh, you life saver, been waiting ages.’’

She looked up at him, a glow on her face, not too sure if it was caused by the pints or his general presence. ‘’What for?’’

‘’I’ve been a right numpty and locked myself out.’’ he laughed.

‘’Oh shit,’’ she laughed back, buzzing from alcohol. Y/N was a lightweight by definition; the smell of alcohol could probably get her drunk, and at this moment she felt buzzed.

‘’I know, pain the arse,’’ Harry said, pinching in between his eyes. ‘’Can’t even try to get a key cut because everywhere’s shut.’’

‘’You got any friends that’ll let you crash for the night?’’ Y/N asked, feeling genuine concern for the poor boy sitting outside their doors. She hadn’t even asked how long he’d been there—it could have been hours.

‘’Tried a few but got no response,’’ Harry sighed, "I guess no one wants a rogue sleepover at 10 at night.’’

‘’Good friends you’ve got,’’ she teased, confidence of drink taking over her.

‘’Oh shush you,’’ he playfully said back.

A small silence fell over the toy as Y/N fumbled around in her bag to find her keys, the street light giving her enough of a torch to be able to find them. Every time she drank, she’d experience a small panic that she’d managed to lose all of her belongings, but luckily for her, everything seemed intact.

‘’So what are you going to do?’’ Y/N said as she went to put her key in the lock.

Harry paused for a moment. While the two had shared the occasional message and nice chat over coffee, he felt a bit bold with what he was about to ask. Not being the most social person, he had weighed out the options of whether or not it would be awkward if she'd say yes to his question—he'd more than likely have to sit chatting for a while and then maybe have an uncomfortable sleep on whatever sofa or bed she’d have to offer—but at the same time, he reminded himself that it was only Y/N and whatever awkwardness could have come between them had well and truly been dissolved by their initial meeting. And truthfully, Harry was all for saying outlandish things and asking rogue questions, so if she did say no, he’d just take it on the chin and find somewhere else to go.

‘’I hate to ask,’’ he paused sheepishly. ‘’I really do. But by any chance, I could come in for a bit, or at least till one of my friends picks up their phone and lets me stay around theirs.’’

‘’You hate to ask?’’ Y/N smirked, cocking her head to one side. ‘’Am I really that insufferable?’’

Harry’s eyes widened at her words. ''N-no, no, not at all. It’s just that I thought, ’’

‘’Stop your blubbering for a moment,’’ she laughed. ‘’It’s fine, really.’’

‘’You sure?’’ he smiled. ‘’Don’t have to say yes, 'coz you feel sorry for me.’’

And yes, Y/N did feel a bit sorry for the blubbering boy sitting in front of their adjacent doors. She couldn’t imagine anything worse than being locked out of her own flat and left out in the cold in London with nowhere else to go—it was a frustrating inconvenience to say the least. Plus, Y/N was always a bit of a generous soul, never really able to say no to people, always biting her tongue when she felt awkward, and with a few pints combined, she was feeling especially generous.

‘’Honestly, no bother.’’ she replied, unlocking her door. ‘’I’ll probably be awake for the next few hours anyway, so companies are good.’’ An absolute lie on Y/N’s part. Any drink would usually send Y/N into a tired haze, and she couldn’t think of anything better than sticking on her pyjamas and curling up in bed, but it’d have to be put on hold for the night.

Following her up the stairs and into her living area, Harry let his eyes analyse the room. Fairy lights adorned nearly every wall, blankets crowded on the sofa, a few plants dotted around the room, and an endless amount of cookbooks—while Harry didn’t know too much about Y/N, he could still recognise that her little flat was an exact replica of her as a person.

‘’Nice place,’’ he said, placing his backpack down on the wooden floor.

‘’Cheers,’’ she smiled, ‘’similar to yours?’’

‘’Similar size, but mines full of cardboard boxes at the moment,’’ he laughed, ‘’yours has a lot more life to it.’’

‘’Took a good few IKEA trips to get it this perfect, I won’t lie.’’ Since walking in, Y/N had dropped her bag by the door, walking into the kitchen space to find some snacks or atleast a drink to give to her unexpected guest.

‘’You want a cider?’’ she asked, rummaging through the fridge to find a can of Strawberry Old Mout that she had left over from the last time she had a guest in her flat. She couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous as she looked around the brightly lit fridge - it felt weird having Harry in her flat. Different somehow, more intimate than their casual chats down in the cafe or over text. But especially after her little moment of weakness the other day and the fact that he more than likely had a girlfriend, she pushed those thoughts aside and focused on being the good host she was.

"You know what- I’ll take one," he replied,thinking nothing sounded better than a cold cider after his shambles of an evening. ‘’Only if you’re drinking too - don’t wanna start getting leathered on my own,’’

‘’As if you’d get leathered off of one cider,’’ Y/N laughed, passing him a can and cracking open her own, ‘’Plus I’m 5 ciders deep already so think it’ll be me getting leathered, not you.’’

Harry shared a laugh with her, holding his hands up in defeat, ‘’Alright, you piss head. You just been necking ciders on London streets then or what?’’

‘’Oh shut up,’’ if she had been closer to him, Y/N probably would of swatted him on the arm for the absolute nonsense that left his mouth but the kitchen counter separated the two, so she kept her arms to her side, ‘’I was just out in the pub.’’

‘’So that’s what the mysterious Y/N gets up to when she’s not running a cafe,’’ he said, raising his eyebrows as if he’d uncovered some maddening truth about her.

‘’Mysterious?’’ she snorted back regrettably but she couldn’t help it and plus after a few drinks, her snorted laugh always seemed to appear.

‘’Well ye-yeah, mysterious.’’ he paused, taking another big gulp of his drink and Y/N wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d managed to finish it by now. ‘’Haven’t heard from you in a few days and then you come swanning in after a few pints, I’d say that’s pretty mysterious.’’

‘’God, you talk some shit,’’ she said, laughing at his use of words.

‘’S’true though, haven’t heard from you.’’

‘’I haven’t heard from you either?’’

‘’You liar! I texted you the other night and got no reply,’’ Harry said, clutching at his heart in a playful manner, ‘’really hurt my feelings.’’

‘’You’re such a windup,’’ she grinned, ‘’Didn’t take you as the type to be hung up over no replies,’’

‘’Broke my heart really. I was waiting for you to reply and say you had a cake and a chat waiting for me but got nothing.’

So maybe Y/N hadn’t taken his hints wrongly.

‘’And then my sister turned up and I couldn’t even come round and pester you for a slice of lemon cake,’’ he continued, ‘’my plan went out the window,’’ His sister! Y/N mentally scolded herself in her head for being so silly that night and thinking the worst.

‘’Your plan?’’ she challenged.

‘’Yeah, my plan to butter you up and then steal every last slice of cake you had going for you.’’ he joked.

What an idiot, Y/N thought. But a funny idiot, nonetheless. ‘Ah, well, you should have told me your sister was round and I would have been more than happy to share something with her - sure, she would have been better company than you anyways,’’ she joked, in return. She couldn’t tell if it was the ciders making her head feel dizzy or nonchalant playfulness, but she felt giddy and confident.

‘’No one likes a liar, Y/N.’’ he beamed, ‘’We both know that’s a massive lie.’’

‘’Hmm maybe.’’

‘’So, pub, did you say?’’ he questioned, ‘’W-was it a date or?’’

‘’Think I go to the pub on a first date?’’ she said, raising her brow in amusement.

‘’Nothing wrong with a pint and a bag of crisps for the first date.’’ he defended.

‘’It’s that where you take all your unlucky ladies then?’’

‘’Ha! Unlucky. It’d be the luckiest night of their lives,’’

‘’Oh I bet,’’ Y/N laughed, ‘’But no, just a few drinks with some of my friends. Nothing mad.’’

‘’Very cool.’’ Harry grinned.

‘’Shut-up,’’ Y/N grinned back in return.

The two fell into a silence, each other not really knowing what to say. Y/N could feel the lull of the alcohol weaning off and she knew she’d be drifting off if she stayed up any longer. She didn’t want to come across rude, enjoying his company but her bed was calling her name and she needed to call it a night knowing she had to be up in the morning to sort out admin for the cafe.

‘’I think I might head to bed, I’m feeling knackered.’’ Y/N sighed.

‘’Leaving me all alone, one cider deep?’’ Harry laughed.

‘’Sorry but I don’t think I can keep my eyes open for any longer,’’ A giggle uttering from her lips, ‘’You’re more than welcome to stay on the sofa thought until you get your keys sorted and all.’’

‘’You’re a star, Y/N.’’ Harry smiled in return as he made his way to the couch to make himself comfortable for the night. He couldn’t have been more grateful for her in the moment, thinking back to not so long ago when he was out in the cold, locked outside of his flat. Course, they’d made familiar with each other the past few weeks but he couldn’t get over the kindness of the girl - or pity that she had for him - but either way he was thankful nonetheless.

‘’There’s a few blankets on the side and some cushions so it shouldn’t be too uncomfortable,’’ Y/N paused, walking over the basket of random throws and cushions she had by the corner of her living room, signalling him to choose his pickings. ‘’Right, I’ll see you in the morning. Night Harry.’’

‘’Night, Y/N. Thanks again.’’ And that was the last thing he saw, her gleaming smile, cheeks red from alcohol as she walked down the hall to the last room that he knew now was her bedroom and headed to bed.

Y/N woke up with a pounding headache the next morning followed by a dry mouth and a queasy stomach. She hadn’t even drank much but in her defense she rarely ever did so any alcoholic beverage would always send her sideways the next day. Blinking against the harsh sunlight streaming through her window, she groaned, regretting the cheap ciders of the previous night. Her memory was a bit hazy, blurred by the fog of alcohol but she did remember one thing. There was a Harry on her sofa.

Dragging herself out of bed, she quickly sorted herself out, combing through her hair and fixing her pyjamas, not wanting to look an absolute state in front of the boy. She stumbled to the kitchen, head throbbing with every step, desperate for a glass of water. But as she walked into her living space, he was nowhere to be found. Surely she hadn’t been so drunk she had imagined the whole night.

She could remember everything from the loud music of the pub, the dancing and laughs she shared with her friends. And she most definitely remembered the blue eyed boy that was sat outside her front door, locked out from his home.

She did a quick check of her phone to see if she had any texts from Harry but the only notifications were a few Instagram tags from her mates and a text from her mum asking what she thought of the banana loaf she had made. Nothing from Harry.

Walking around the kitchen to grab a glass for her water, she noticed out of the corner of her eye the little notepad she had on her kitchen counter was opened, a few words scribbled on it and a black biro pen next to it.

On the note read ‘Thank you for letting me stay last night, you’re an angel. I had to leave early this morning to meet the landlord for a spare key but I really do owe you. Let me know when you’re free, I’m thinking of dinner on me? Thank you again, Harry x’

With a little smile on her lips as he fingers traced over his messy handwriting, she felt a sigh of relief. Dinner on him, it was and she couldn’t wait.

a/n: thank you for reading. sorry for the wait!!! there defo won't be a long wait for part three. this is such a slow burn but promise it gets more cutesy in part three <333

#w2s #wroetoshaw #w2s x reader #harry wroetoshaw #harry lewis #harry w2s #sidemen #w2s fic #w2s imagine #wroetoshaw imagine #wroetoshaw oneshot #hollytoshaw #chris md #arthurtv #sidemen x reader

175 notes · View notes

misguidedasgardian · 8 months

Text

Storm's End (4)

HOTD MASTERLIST

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Niece!Strong!Reader

Summary: your mother sends you to Storm’s End to rally Lord Borros Baratheon for your side, but your uncle arrived there before you

Warnings: Cursing, use of the word bastard, angst, heavy, canon level incest, thoughts about dying, fear of commiting s*icide, mentions of bedding, and more, dark fic, Aemond is unhinged, rape, non-con, minors engaging in sexual activities, mentions of a minor in a pleasure house, maiming, blood, violence, and other very dark things.

+18 MINORS DNI

Notes: Sorry for the delay, I really had to put some mind into how I wanted it to end,a dn how to get there

You did not appreciate the maid’s sad gazes, not their pity when they saw the bruises and horrible dark marks your uncle had left in you, but you had to get bathed, he had ordered it so

The water was boiling, you liked it that way, but you were so weak the maids had to help you in the bathtub

They washed you clean without a word, they put oils in the water without even consulting you, they worked on the command of Aemond for sure, he knew what he liked and how he wanted it.

You felt so weak, tired.

But the maids with scowls in their faces finished washing your hair, and they helped you out of the tub, with a towel waiting for you. Sadly, a cold breeze hit you from the open window, you still had a foot in the boiling water, and soon…

It all happened slowly, seconds that felt like long minutes

The floor started to pull you down, you felt heavy, like you couldn’t move your own limbs, you started to feel dizzy, you tried to fight it, you did, but your eyesight began to tunnel, your head heavier than you ever felt it

You lost consciousness, dropping to the ground like a lifeless doll, your head smashing against the stone floor. The maids couldn’t grab you in time, your skin with oils that made it slippery

“Call the maester!”, the older one screamed at the youngest one, and she ran to fulfill the order.

You tried to focus your eyesight at the maester that requested it, moving his boney finger in front of your face

Aemond was looking the scene, nibbling the nail of his thumb, if you even managed to see him, you would think he was concerned

The Maester sighed

“When was the last time you ate, little princess?”, he asked gently, you didn't answer, you just looked down at the sheets covering you… today was going to be the third day

“She is not sick?”, asked Aemond, recuperating his dimmed composure. the old man shook his head, looking at your deplorable state with concern

“Not before, but she did hit her head pretty rough”, he mumbled, he then turned your attention to you, “eat, princess, PLEASE”, he begged you, and you barely nodded, “drink tea, and water, even some wine if you can stomach it, it will be good for you, and I want you to stay abed for at least three days, to rest that head”, you barely nodded, you couldn’t find the words, your throat was dry as the deserts of Dorne

“Not eating?”, Aemond hissed as soon as the old man left, “the maids brought you food to break your fast, I want everything gone by the time I get back, or else I’m going to shove it down your throat”, he said dangerously, pointing at the table with food, and left you there

You were starving, so you manage to stand from the bed, and walk slowly to the table

You nibbled on some bread with cheese.

You were starving, you tried not to think in your current predicament so you could stomach it

You ate some grapes, that little fruit always makes you feel better. You drank some delicious orange juice from oranges from Dorne… everything slowly, and you even dared to eat a small lemon cake. They were delicious, even though you preferred things with cream and chocolate in them.

But as you looked towards the sea, towards Dragonstone… you whimpered again

You just had water and sips of wine, you were hydrated again, so the waterworks started back again stronger than ever

You wanted to go home

You wanted to see your family, your brothers, your mom, you whimpered again, hiding your sobs with your hand

The door opened and you jumped in your seat, thinking it could be Aemond, but it was Alicent.

You were supposed to stand up and bow to her, but she was no longer Queen, she was a usurper and a traitor

“I heard you had an… inconvenience this morning”, she said, that fake, small smile appearing on her lips again, you said nothing, you only looked back at her, tears still falling from your eyes

“When can I go home?”, you asked her

“This is why I came here, I need you to write a letter to your mother”

“Why?”, you asked, sniffing

“She is summoning swords”, she said, “calling armies, and armadas…”, she said, like she was to blame

“You usurped her throne”, you said, and you could tell she stopped herself from snapping

“This could escalate to a war”, she said, “We could stop it”

“Yes you could”, you said bitterly

“Write to your mother”

“And what should I write?”

“Beg her to consider to bend the knee”

“But she is the heir”, you whined

“Aegon is the male heir”, she said, “that is the way things should be”

“If I do this and she hesitates….”, more tears fell down your eyes, “you are going to kill them”, she panicked

“No sweet girl…”

“Please… I want to go home”, you cried, “I won’t say anything, I promise… I’ll say Aemond rescued me from death, I won’t say a word please I just want to go to my mother”

You lost it, you started crying so hard you dry heaved, you couldn’t think rationally,

When you came back to your senses, you were on the bed on your side, a parchment and ink on the table.

You sat and write

Your Grace

I write to you with a heavy but relieveD heart.

I got caught in a stoRm that night, luckily my uncle Aemond was following close behind and sAved me from the unforgiving waves of Shipwreck Bay, after he took me to the Red Keep to reCuperate, where they hAd tended to my wound and my needs

But they are hesitant on letting me Return to You, as they claimed you are preparing for war

I know you wouldn’t place me in danger, my loving mother, I would love to return to you, pleaSe consider the terms that will be extended to you

I love you and I miss you

You ever faithful and loving daughter

You wanted to go home, so so much, you were not brave, you had never been a brave girl, but, now, in the balance, you couldn’t ask your mother to relinquish the whole seven kingdoms for you, so you hoped she got the hidden message you tried to hide

What else could they do to you?

Trick your family into thinking they will make them surrender, wait until they think they can be safe and be left to live in Dragonstone, and then… get killed by betrayal

You were already on the belly on the best, the only and best thing you could do was to protect your family from within as much as you could

It was too late for you

You left the letter over the table, and you were suddenly exhausted, you walked back to the bed and layed in it, hugging the pillow, imagining it was your mother, or your brother Luke

You woke up alarmed, as a thunderous sound dragged you back.

You jumped on the bed as you saw Aemond grabbed a chair and smashed it against the wall

You shrieked

“Dracarys?”, he snarled, as he saw you were awake he ran towards you and tried to scramble away from you but he grabbed you by the neck, “do you take us for fools?”, he squeezed and you wheezed, you grabbed his wrist pleading him to release you

“No”

“You want your whore of a mother and your deviant father to come and kill us all don’t you?”, he asked, “well, they are going to have to think again, if they even show their fucking faces I’ll kill them myself while you watch”

“No”, your eyesight began to tunnel, but he kept you there pressed to the bed as he removed his pants just a little, raising your nightdress up

“I have to admit, this turns me on”, he growled, “Because in all scenarios, you still end up full off my cock and my seed, and with my bastard in your belly”

“No it doesn’t”, you cried when he entered you roughly, you should be accustomed by now, but now the fact that he was restricting your airways that you probably felt thing more differently, you were certainly equally scared

“Your mother surrenders… f-uck!”, he snapped his hips sharply, “and you stay here as collateral”, thrust, “or she tries to fight”, thrust, “and I kill them all”

You didn’t answer, you couldn’t your head felt heavy, as the contrary to your body, that was floating

“You are squeezing me so tight right now”, he purred, “I thought you were this sweet little thing but no, you get off on violence too”

He released you, so you could keep breathing and you took a sharp sign

“I just want to go home”, you cried, he chuckled darkly

“Well, get it through your head, you are never going home”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want you to” he said simply

“What if I’m with your child?”, he stilled inside you, looking down at you, “would you let me go then?”, he released you, looking at you like you had slapped him

“Why…would I?”, he asked slowly

“You only care to ruin me” I say, “If I’m already with your child, it is done, isn’t it?”, you asked, “And my mother and my family gets to see it, what you did to me, that I’m pregnant with your bastard right in front of them”, he kept looking at you

“And you don’t care that someday, I might come and burn the castle to the ground?”, he asked, “and you in it”, you looked back at him

“I’d rather have one more week to live at my family’s side, than fifty years here with you all”, you said sadly. He frowned, he tried to thrust into you again, but, couldn’t he cursed, now more angry than before, but he took himself off of you

He was going to punch you, when felt his hand move too quickly

But his fist landed by your face against the mattress

“You are going to stay here, for everyone at court to see just how much like your mother you are, having bastards”, he grabbed you and turned you around, you were face down on the mattress.

He grabbed you by the back of the neck to push your face against the soft surface, he spread your legs and entered you again.

You didn’t whine, you didn't do anything, you stopped fighting it, you just let him have you

You don’t remember how the night ended

The next thing you remember is having been woken up the next morning by a maid, indicating to you that the Queen was here. She was standing by the door, her eyes anywhere but the bed in disarray with blood stains, and your dress

“I saw Aemond just leaving”, she said, you found it strange that he had spend the night with you, “he told me what you tried to write in that latter”, you only looked at her, “but I will give you another chance”

You only stood up, walked to the same table, and wrote

That Aemond saved you, that you were alright, that the only thing you wanted was to see them again, safe, and sound, and alive, while, not in those words, but you did

You let the letter there, and then you only looked back at her and went back to the bed

You still felt your head very heavy, last night against pushing your face against the mattress hadn't helped

“Aemond would like you to change your rooms”, she said, you only looked at her, and then sank into the bed, not minding her presence

She only sighed, and you heard her walking away. You heard her voice speaking to the guard outside, and the guard then stepped into the room, he stood in the corner, watching you, you only frowned, but paid no mind to him

You did pay attention however, when in the afternoon, two master blacksmiths entered, and to your amazement, secured thick metal bars on the inside of the window.

Aemond was afraid you would jump

No, because that would mean he cared, he only probably found it problematic because you were the only thing that prevented your mother for burning down the palace and everyone on it

. . .

“I can’t do this Daemon”, Rhaenyra said, “I can’t storm the capital while they have her, we would be going in blind, they could kill her”

“If they wanted her dead, they would have killed her by now, they know awaking your wrath might also work in their benefit”

“What if we bend the knee?”, she said, “I never wanted this, not truly…”

“No”, he said, “we will not give the Iron Throne to those HIghtowers, Usurpers and cunts!”, he said cursed. “Who are probably harming your child, your only daughter, as we speak”

“But they saved her, they wouldn’t hurt her, right?”, asked Luke, his big eyed wide with hope, Jace sighed, Rhaenyra tried to smile at his son childish optimism, but Daemon didn’t find it endearing as his wife

“Aemond wanted to marry her Luke”, said Jace, “and mom wouldn’t let him, and he found her in Storm’s End, he chased and killed her dragon, he probably is…”

“Don’t say it”, begged Rhaenyra

Jacaerys grabbed his younger brother, and dragged him outside, throwing him unceremoniously

“Jace, I'm sorry!”, he was apologizing and he didn’t even know why, he only knew he had awakened his brother’s wrath

“Aemond took our sister, do you know what he is probably doing to her!?”, he snapped, Lucerys’ eyes filled with tears, but shook his head, “he is probably raping her, every day and night”

“No…”, he whined, “why would he do that? she never did anything to him!”

“Because our uncle is sick and twisted, and had always hated us”, he growled, “that’s why”

“But she is good.. and kind…”

“Even better”, he said bitterly, “he is going to break her”

“This is all my fault, for what I did to him”, he said, his big eyes shiny with unshed tears, “This is all my fault Jace”, he said with a knot on his throat, “I need to fix this”

“Do nothing”, he threatened, “let the adults handle this”

But he couldn’t, not when his sister was being hurt because of him.

So he went to his room, he grabbed a piece of parchment and ink.

And he wrote a letter to his uncle

For them to meet, alone.

While his mother did sort of the same thing, asking a private meeting with her brother, the Dowager Queen, and the Lord of the main families of the seven Kingdoms.

taglist: @lightdragonrayne @immyowndefender @aemondswifeisme @twobluejeans @toodlesxcuddles @sassysaxsolo @thearchitectoflove @maidmerrymint @floralsightings @daughterofthemoons-stuff @glendarollitkatharinesanders @ruhjkie @starkjedi @baconturtle @aleemendoza2425-blog @ahristata @dlwlrmas-world @yentroucnagol @hiraethrhapsody @alwaysholymilkshake @marihoneywk @belladonna00 @strangersunghoon @anehkael @t0uch-starved-h0e @hkmultifandom @letmehavemyfictionalmen @belcalis9503 @daddydaemonswife @daemontargaryenwhore @bash1018

#dark!aemond x reader #dark!aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #prince aemond #aemond #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #house targaryen #hbo house of the dragon #targaryen!reader #aemond x reader #hotd aemond #aemond fanfiction #aemond the kinslayer

493 notes · View notes

sunniskyies · 1 month

Text

𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐞 || 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: Here !! 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: More than a year after your unexplained disappearance, Percy finds you again on a rainy Christmas night. 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: book!Percy Jackson x Calliope!fem!reader 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Mentions of grief? 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: Fluff, Reunion trope, kind of established relationship 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.2k 𝐀/𝐍: IT’S BEEN OVER THREE MONTHS SINCE I GOT THIS REQUEST I'M SORRY— SCHOOL. I’ve ended up changing this rec quite a bit, but I hope those reading still enjoy it <3

It’s not that Percy didn’t like the rain, it’s just there was so much of it. Fat droplets hung from his skin and hair, Manhattan lighting him up like a disco ball. His jacket and shirt were saturated, and his fingers were so frigid they struggled to remain clutched around his skateboard and the brown paper bag. Percy Jackson, Son of the Sea God, thwarted by winter weather.

He should have been back at home half an hour ago, well before the Christmas rain had come. But his route home from the skate shop passed by a bakery, and the smell of fresh madeleines had stopped him in his tracks. A ripple of emotion sank through his body at the familiar scent, one he hadn’t smelt in well over a year. His neighbourhood didn’t have any proper pâtisseries, so he’d never had to smell the baked good, as they were never made. This batch must be some kind of Christmas special.

He slowly turned to look in the window, the warm light cutting through the twilight and sinking into his tan skin. He took a deep breath and pushed inside to the toasty interior.

The bakery was contentedly full; a mother grinning as her two young children excitedly pointed at items in the cabinet, a businessman buying holiday treats for his family, two teenage girls hip-to-hip sipping hot cocoas and kissing chocolate mustaches off eachother. Percy’s green gaze drifted behind the counter where a young baker held a tray of sugar-encrusted madeleines.

The picture of a girl his age slipped uninvited into his mind, as the memories always did. She was curled up in a nest of duvet and quilt, nibbling a madeleine with a book propped up on her knees. Percy’s nose was buried in the hair around her neck, reading lazily over her shoulder with sleep-heavy eyes.

“They’re the best! They’re hand-sized and not messy, so you can eat them while reading!” The sweet-toothed girl had told him once. Ever since then, Percy had made the effort to ask for the little cakes from the camp kitchen and sneak the contraband back to her. He was rewarded with kisses that tasted like brown sugar and lemon, and gooey eyes that left the pages for a moment.

The haze of remembrance cleared, and Percy Jackson was standing in a hole-in-the-wall Manhattan bakery once more. The room was oven-warmed, but he now was cold from the inside out, a hunger that couldn’t be satiated even if he ate every baked treat in the shop.

The mother and her sons passed by him, their laughs disappearing back into the evening, the open door cooling the space a fraction. Percy took another steadying breath and approached the counter.

“Four madeleines, please.” For old-time’s sake.

The detour had cost him his dry clothes. The rain had started coming down pretty much as soon as he left the bakery, and here he was, soaked and clutching a brown paper bag of sponge cakes he wasn’t even sure he would be able to choke down.

He held the parcel beneath his damp jacket, not wanting to lose the precious smell. Most shops in this neighbourhood had shut for Christmas, so he was surprised when he turned a corner to find the dark street bearing a pool of warm light.

The light belonged to an old, second-hand bookstore. He’d never seen it here before. Similarly to the bakery, its glow was enticing. Percy’s jaw clenched, and he looked up to the sky, thinking. The raindrops seemed fatter still. He was almost home, but this weather was miserable. Surely he could step inside for a moment, dry off and then walk the rest of the way? Something about the shop was drawing him in inexplicably.

He really hoped this shop wasn’t a trap, and that he’d just simply never noticed it before. He didn’t feel like fending of monsters tonight, but his fingers still danced over his pocket where Riptide was nestled as he jogged up the door and walked through the door with a cheery ‘ting’ of the bell.

It smelled like old paper and that scent you find when you press your face into a woollen garment and inhale. Like home and libraries and textbooks. The air was chilly, only a rattling little heater sat in the corner trying to warm the space. A space that seemed… bigger on the inside than it had from the street. Percy drifted over to one of the towering shelves, lined with old tomes. His dark eyebrows furrowed as he ran a calloused finger along a bevelled spine. It read:

𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬; 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡; 𝐀 𝐉𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐈𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Except the title was written in Ancient Greek.

Percy could read it fine, the question was what was it doing here? As he looked at the rest of the shelf, he realised every single one was written in Greek. They had classics like Homer, but also creative pieces and essays and thesis’ and novels. It was identical to a normal indie bookstore, just in Ancient Greek.

Percy was so absorbed in examining the spines that he didn’t notice someone coming up beside him.

“How can I help you?” A girl's voice spoke. “Oo! Are those madeleines? I adore madeleines!” Percy jumped and whipped around to see a young girl with a sparkly smile and warm, sugary eyes. When their eyes met, however, both faces slackened. Who recognised who first one couldn’t say, but both felt that familiar ache erupt alongside a chariot-full of unidentifiable feelings.

Her hair was different, and she wasn’t wearing that too-big orange shirt, but he’d recognise that girl anywhere. In a heartbeat. For the rest of time. Undoubtably, wholly, you.

You.

A squeak slipped from your lips, your e/c eyes as wide as the moon. Distantly, Percy heard the thud as the skateboard and paper bag slipped from his hand, but all he could comprehend was the sight of you standing in front of him. For the first time in his life, it felt like his ADHD brain shut off, everything around him dimming into a blurry vignette, your face in stark clarity. You were saying something, he knew that. Your lips were moving fast, eyes flickering. An explanation, maybe. An apology for running away without a word. But Percy couldn’t care less at that moment, only thinking about how you’re alive, you’re alive, you're alive.

He could feel his feet taking him closer to you, and yours carrying you backwards.

“Please, Percy! Say something!” He heard you plead, your fingers twisted together painfully. “I’m sorry I did it, but you understand right? You have to un—”

Rain-cooled fingers slipped amongst your hair, flushed lips crashing into yours. One arm cradled the small of your back, battle-strong and intent on holding you close to him.

Explanations can wait. Apologies can wait, the arguments can wait. All that mattered was that the ache was over, Percy thought giddily. That grief that had stained every inch of him was washed off with one glance of you.

Even without the madeleines, you still taste sweet. Like citrus and sugar. Your skin smelt like parchment and enchanted Greek ink, a scent lingering from hours pouring over a typewriter. His face pressed so close into yours, he could almost smell every word you had written.

What were you thinking? Is this okay? His heart was pounding so loudly he was sure you could feel it, but your arms were around his neck and your breath was pooling together, damp clothes pressed against dry. Twin flames flickering together.

#ph☆ebe's scribbles #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson fic #one shot #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson #fanfic #fanfiction

209 notes · View notes

catscidr · 4 months

Note

Could I request head canons with reader who likes to cook and clean and is basically like a house wife. Dottore and Childe please ☺️

(oﾟ◇ﾟ)ﾉ perhaps you can............. i did my best to try to make these not too redundant , so forgive me if they're a little repetitive sometimes. the tldr is just that they love their cute wife (you) shgjngfns ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ cw: fluff! domestic fluff!! talks of food, mentions of having a family, childe's part gets a teensy bit suggestive includes: fem!reader, dottore and his clones, tartaglia wc: 1,2k

-ˋˏ It’s a popular headcanon that Dottore has a sweet tooth and I’m here to contribute to it bc I’m a firm believer in the Man Bad But Secretly Soft trope.......

-ˋˏ You often find yourself baking desserts for him to eat when he gets home from work and, on the rare occasions that he’s home while you’re baking, you make him taste-test the dessert you’re currently making

-ˋˏ He’s actually decent at baking (it’s just food science and he’s The Science Guy), however he doesn’t particularly enjoy doing it. But you do! You love doing acts of service for him, which is why you got promoted from housewife to personal-pastry-and-dessert-expert housewife (said endearingly)

-ˋˏ Good ol’ chocolate chip cookies, maple pudding, red velvet cake, lemon meringue pie, tiramisu, mille-feuille; you'd make so many desserts that he had to buy a chef-grade refrigerator on top of your regular fridge to store them. Not that he minded of course, but sometimes he’d lightly scold you for making so many unhealthy foods (all the while being a hypocrite himself because he’s the one enabling you)

-ˋˏ Has a mini fridge in his office full of desserts (and the occasional homemade sandwich, for variety). He always has to restock it because his segments always get into it and eat his sweets that you made for him

-ˋˏ When he tells you about it you end up giving him two extra tupperware containers full of sweets that you insist he gives to his segments, especially the younger ones. If he doesn’t, you’ll just show up to his lab and give your freshly baked desserts to them yourself

-ˋˏ Sometimes Dottore tries to bake with you, but you always get frustrated that he never makes the desserts look nice. He just takes up space in your shared kitchen when he tries to help; which you tell him that by staying out of your way he’s helping

-ˋˏ You’re also the designated cook since he doesn’t really have any skills in the kitchen outside of knowing the technical stuff. The man is too busy fiddling with machines and organs to know about how to properly sear a steak

-ˋˏ His favorite meal of yours is a simple steak paired with a good, dry Malbec. You’re always setting up the table when he gets back from work, to which he always hugs you from the back to greet you. One time you didn’t hear him come in and you accidentally dropped the plate you were holding (you made him eat it as punishment. five second rule)

-ˋˏ On the rare times he works from home you insist that he doesn’t need to help you with chores, no matter how much he offers (which wasn’t that often to begin with, but at least he offered. like..... once). Instead, he’d get settled on the kitchen table while you wash the dishes, vacuum, etc

-ˋˏ Some days you’d be in comfortable silence, while on other days you’d listen to him ranting about how irritating his coworkers are, or about how much he wants to fire some of his underlings because they’re “so incompetent”. Thankfully you can calm him down before he,, makes an angry phone call

-ˋˏ You don’t get the chance to visit him at work that often, so you revel in the times where he’s able to work from home. But since you can’t go see him that often, it means you don’t see his clones either

-ˋˏ The older segments would refrain from asking about you (because you’re Prime’s wife, not theirs. he’s yelled at them multiple times about it. bro’s possessive) while the younger ones would consistently bother him about your whereabouts. He insists that he hates it when they ask, but inwardly he imagines how you’d take care of them. (is it to heal his inner child or to imagine how good of a mother you could be? maybe both, but he wouldn’t admit to the former)

✧✧✧

-ˋˏ Childe would have been your housewife if he wasn’t a Harbinger. point blank

-ˋˏ Buuuut, since he isn’t, he makes sure to take care of you. You’re always cleaning after him, cleaning him sometimes, and overall taking up more tasks than he thought you could (should) chew. Of course, you did it all out of love and didn’t expect him to owe you anything, but he’d feel bad if he didn’t help at least a little bit

-ˋˏ So once or twice a week (depending on when his schedule allows it) you’ll both be cleaning the house and doing chores together

-ˋˏ You’re both listening to music while sweeping the floor, reorganizing the pantry, wiping down the counters..... getting as much done as you can before Childe decides he’d rather have you sat up on a counter while he nestles himself closer to you

-ˋˏ He always buys the best appliances for your sake since you’re the one that’s home most of the time. That one really expensive, cordless vacuum cleaner you saw at the store? He bought it. A duster with a retractable handle that can help you reach the top of shelves without you needing to stand on a chair to clean? Childe bought it before you could even ask. That really cute cherry-shaped deep dish with matching baking utensils you saw at the store together? He’s carrying it to your car right now

-ˋˏ Though while he does buy really useful things, he balances it out by getting you unnecessary items. Like a frilly pink apron with Kiss the cook embroidered in cursive on it, or a soup ladle that looks like the Loch Ness monster but I digress

-ˋˏ Childe is 100% a family man- so, as a result, he's thought about having his own family with you. After seeing you indulging Teucer and his siblings’ shenanigans, he absolutely wants to have kids with you and have you do things like read books to them, make them lunch to bring to school, etcetc

-ˋˏ Loves to come back home from work to you, smelling the fresh aroma of dinner wafting in the air

-ˋˏ He loves your cooking!! Can’t get enough of it, especially when he comes back from training and he’s all spent. Whether it be your homemade soup, a hearty meaty meal, or a pasta dish he’ll always devour whatever you make

-ˋˏ You make extra portions of chicken, steak, whatever protein-filled meal when he’s bulking so he can bring leftovers to work to eat them after sparring sessions. It makes everyone else jealous (which is partly his intention lol)

-ˋˏ Boasts about you to his coworkers and agents below him, always saying “my wife” with a lovesick smile on his face

-ˋˏ Has a whole bunch of photos of you in his office, ranging from cute candid pictures to professional, framed photos on his desk, and a tasteful polaroid of you in his wallet. Adores showing you off to others (except the photo he has in his wallet, of course. that’s for his eyes only), so much so that sometimes his underlings try to come up with excuses to leave because he goes on and on and on........ what can he say, he loves his cute housewife !!

#୧ ‧₊˚orderup!#dottore x reader #dottore x you #genshin x reader #genshin x you #dottore x fem!reader #dottore x afab reader #childe x reader #childe x you #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia x you #childe x fem!reader #tartaglia x fem!reader #childe x afab reader #tartaglia x afab reader

249 notes · View notes

arabellasleopardcoat · 9 months

Note

Harwin Strong x reader = well-fucked. (pleaseee?)

Lemon Cake (Harwin Strong x Reader)

Summary: Harwin’s wife is a tough crowd.

Warnings: Smut. Unprotected sex. Fake orgasm, then a real one. Communication with your partner is sexy. Talks of sweets because I am starving.

A/N: This has been sitting in my inbox for a long time, and I was thinking of writing a sex marathon for it, but then I had this thought… What about a reader that struggles to orgasm? That’s common for women. I thought that Harwin would be the one who cares the most out of all the HOTD men.

You do not come to the marriage bed an innocent. You are a noble girl from The Reach, and so, no expense was spared for your education. Your Lady Mother had made sure you came prepared.

So that’s why, in the middle of the act, as your new Lord Husband pushes and grunts, rocking his hips against yours, you suddenly clench down. You clench and unclench, and give a few undignified noises, and then go limp in his arms.

Pulling back from you, Ser Harwin, or just Harwin, as he has asked you to call him, looks perplexed.

You grin. You must have done well if he looks so amazed. Remembering your Lady Mother's advice, you smile at him.

“Thank you. That felt nice.”

“I am afraid…” Harwin frowns. “Did you… Um. Was that supposed to be…?”

Perhaps he needs help. Perhaps no other woman had done that for him, although you knew it was likely Harwin had his first time with a whore, and they were much better at pretending than you were.

“I finished. I had a great time, husband. You should be proud of yourself.” You smile at him, trying to get it to not sound rehearsed.

You had not, in fact, had a great time. It had been mostly an uncomfortable time. You weren’t totally lying, either. Some of his earlier caresses had been pleasant. But no matter how much he had prepared you for it, the breach of your maidenhead had hurt. Your body felt like it was not meant to stretch that way.

Then, you were too in your head to properly enjoy it, wondering if you were pleasing him. No matter if he was trying his best to please you, you were thinking about how your body looked, how you sounded. You just wanted him to be happy.

Harwin had been a wonderful betrothed. Calm, gentle and reassuring. He had taken time listening to you and getting to know you. Despite being very different from you, he had partaken in your hobbies and interests, to get closer to you. You felt he deserved a reward for it, something you could give to him in exchange for his kindness.

Hence, the false peak. Your Lady Mother had told you that men liked that sort of thing. They felt proud, when they could boast about how good they made their ladies feel. And men were less likely to stray when they found their wives fun to bed. You intended to be a joy.

“My lady.” Harwin pulled out of your body. You frowned, confused. “You certainly did not.”

“Yes, I did.” Your voice is gentle. Perhaps he needs extra reassurance. You have no problem feeding his ego, considering he has been really nice to you since you were engaged. “It was wonderful.”

“You did not. I will not ask you why you felt the need to fake it, but I will ask that you do not lie to me.” His tone is stern. You wrap yourself with the sheets, like a scolded child. Harwin stays silent for a moment, before placing a hand on your back. “Did you really enjoy yourself, or are you telling me what you think I want to hear?”

“I was…”

“Be honest, wife. Remember your vows.” He interrupts, before you can think of a better lie. Harwin has a harsh tone that makes you understand exactly why he was made Commander of the Citywatch. You decide to drop the pretense, then.

The two of you don’t know each other well enough for you to know if it is safe to keep lying. Is Harwin good at catching lies? Is he observant? You don’t know. And in those cases, instead of digging a deeper hole, honesty tends to be the best policy.

“I wanted you to be happy, and proud.” Your tone is soft, still facing away from him. He lays down behind you, spooning you, and presses a kiss to your nape.

It’s a strange feeling. This was not how your wedding night was supposed to go. You had expected physical closeness and intimacy, but not this kind.

“I am certainly not.” But despite the harsh words, Harwin rubs his nose against your nape, sweetly. “Did you enjoy any of it?”

His tone is genuine. Curious, and not scolding. Perhaps, even the slightest bit guilty.

You are not sure of how to put it. It’s also not something you feel comfortable discussing. You are thankful for the fact that your back is to him, and he can’t see your expression. It takes you a while to have the courage to speak.

“I did, at first. But when you… When you entered me, it hurt. It was pleasant, I guess, after a while, but not really… Groundbreaking.”

It’s so awkward to say. You know this is not proper conversation, not even for a wife and a husband. The act is not meant to cause you any pleasure. It’s meant for Harwin to enjoy and to give you children. No more.

“Oh?” But Harwin doesn’t sound angry or scandalized. His tone is one of intrigue. You can feel his lips curling into a smile against the skin of your nape. “Do tell.”

You wonder how you could possibly explain. It finally occurs to you. You can compare it to something he will understand.

“It was like having a cake. Not a lemon cake, just a plain cake. Good, just not…”

Harwin chuckles, making you laugh too. The feel of the little huffs of air he lets up against your neck is quite ticklish.

“I get it. But I don't need you to fake your pleasure. I rather know I am not doing it right.”

“Is there a way for it to be enjoyable?” You look at him, over your shoulder. Curious, this time. If it was some other man, one less kind, you wouldn’t ask. “A right way?”

“Let me teach you.” Harwin whispers in your ear. His hands start mapping over your body. He caresses your neck, then your chest. His hands cup your breasts, softly massaging them.

It feels like before. Good. Warm. Arousal slowly starts to make all your hairs stand on end, breasts getting heavier, center going slick. Almost unaware of it, you moan. You can tell the situation is affecting Harwin too. His hardness, which had softened while you were cuddling, is back with a vengeance. It presses insistently against your behind.

Harwin trails a hand over your stomach, palm wide and warm. He lifts one of your legs, so it rests on his thigh, leaving you open to him. You sigh, sweetly.

“Like that?” He asks you, before lowering his hand towards something that makes you feel like you are on fire. His thumb taps lightly at it, and you moan. “That’s your pearl. If you rub it, it feels good.”

“Yes. Just like that.” Your head lolls over his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. It suddenly isn’t enough. “The… Could you…?”

“Tell me.” Harwin kisses your jaw. “I want honest opinions.”

“Take your shirt off.” As Harwin shifts to comply with your orders, you notice he is hard again, poking at your lower back. “And… Um. Could we try again?”

“Try what?” He rubs softly at your pearl, making you mewl near his ear. Harwin chuckles, darkly.

You stare at him over your shoulder. You feel so embarrassed, you wish the earth would open and swallow you whole. Harwin grins, and does absolutely nothing. Even the fingers he has on your pearl stop.

“I want you inside me.” You finally say, when just being held starts being too little for you.

“Are you sure?” He presses a kiss to your temple, his fingers lowering towards your entrance. As soon as his hands are moving again, your hips buck against them, impatiently.

“You said there was a way for it to be pleasant. I want that. Show me.” Your voice comes out a little breathless.

“You are a wonder.” Harwin kisses you, softly. “My brave, gorgeous girl. I am so sorry for what happened before.”

“It’s alright.” But just as you are speaking, you feel him lining the two of you up. You do your best effort not to tense up or expect pain. Your words melt into a soft sigh as Harwin enters you.

Just as he did before, he stays still. The stretch is not nearly as uncomfortable as it used to be, but it’s still quite considerable. You doubt you will ever get used to his size. It feels as if he is pinning you into place. A bit overwhelmed, you search for his hand for reassurance.

“I was a bit overeager, before.” Harwin kisses your temple. “I wanted you so much, I wasn’t paying the attention you deserve.”

His hand caresses your ribs, softly. It tickles, and you can’t help but laugh. It prompts a chain reaction. Your laughter makes you clench up, which makes him groan and makes you laugh even more.

“That’s flattering.”

Your laughter buys you a much-needed respite. No longer does it feel like you are being pulled apart. Still, Harwin’s sad puppy look gets to you.

“I was too in my head. Just not in the moment.” You explain, not wanting him to feel bad about it. Because it’s the truth. You were the one who decided to fake a peak when there was no need for it. You have heard many ladies cried and yelled during their wedding nights, and their husbands didn’t even bat an eyelash. Harwin was not that kind of man. Had you been truly suffering, from what you had learned about him, he would have stopped.

If you had just allowed your face to show its true emotions, you were sure Harwin would have done something. But you had been too embarrassed and too caught up on making it good for him.

“I can keep you grounded, if you wish.” Harwin teases, kissing your cheek. His hips roll gently against yours, as if searching for something. Something he manages to find because you nearly jump from his arms when he touches something inside you that makes you see stars. “There?”

“There.”

He hugs you from behind, keeping the angle of his hips. This time, is more gentle, but much more precise. It feels good. Once again, it feels pleasant. Good. But nothing is happening. You start to get anxious. Why can’t you just get there? Will Harwin get bored with trying to indulge you? You would rather not be a burden to him, or get in between him and his pleasure. Perhaps it’s just not for you.

Harwin pulls you in for a kiss, without stopping the rocking of his hips.

“Are you still with me?”

You look at him, a little sad. You promised to be truthful, but you would rather not hurt his feelings. He is trying hard to please you, you can feel it. But it’s just not working.

“No. I am so sorry, husband. I am really trying, just…”

“That’s alright. Do you want me to stop?” Harwin kisses your cheek, not sounding too hurt. You risk a peek at his expression. His face is calm, encouraging, even.

“No.” You mutter. It comes out a little too sad because he boops your nose, making you smile on reflex.

“Here. Let me…” Harwin shifts you, from your side to sitting on top of him. The suddenness of the movement makes you yelp. “Use me.”

“What?” You cannot believe your ears. Hesitantly, you place a hand on his chest, bracing yourself. He smiles up at you, encouragingly.

“For your pleasure. Do what feels right. And if your thighs get tired, or your hips feel tight, tell me. I’ll help you.”

“I feel silly.” You complain, grabbing at his member. It feels warm and slick in your hand. Harwin makes a small noise at the contact, and you smile, sinking down on him.

It feels different immediately. It’s both deeper and increasingly intimate. But you feel self-conscious, staring him right in the eyes. There is no way you will be able to fake your pleasure now, not with his eyes on yours.

Shyly, you turn your head away from him.

“Don’t. You look gorgeous. The prettiest woman I have ever seen. “ His hand is gentle against your cheek, encouraging you to look him in the eye.

Harwin smiles softly. You smile back. And then, you arch your hips, searching for the right angle. He watches you, eager to learn how to please you. And you watch right back.

His face, going slack in pleasure. The way he grunts when you slowly get up and down, rocking your hips just so to get friction on your pearl. The way sweat starts to gather at his temples, making his hair stick down. It fills you with a secret thrill, pleasing him.

You want, no, need more. You rub at your pearl, yet it feels too rough to be enjoyable. Almost too dry. You whine. Harwin catches the hint immediately. He takes your wrist and presses a kiss to your palm, softly, before taking two of your fingers into his mouth. You startle a little, both by the contrast between the lewd action and the tenderness he treats you with, and how much into it he seems to be.

Harwin releases your fingers with a wet pop, giving you a naughty grin. You don’t need any further prompting. You feel almost uncomfortably wet now, after his display, but you still use the fingers he sucked to rub at your pearl.

It’s as if you are burning up. You are hot with need, thighs clenching and stomach tensing in preparation for something. Arousal thrums on your nerves, echoes in your bones. You are so close, a wave just about to crash against the shore.

Your eyes fall closed. It’s an impossible thing, you know. But you swear you can feel your pulse, beating under your fingertips, in that tight little bundle of nerves. You are starting to get tired, and you cling to Harwin’s shoulders desperately.

“That's it. Just like that, love. You are doing so good for me. Just a bit more.” His hand rubs your flank, softly. He is trying to encourage you, but you want to scream out in frustration. You are so close.

You grunt, thighs burning with exertion. It makes your rhythm falter. You sob.

“You can do it. Give it to me.” But you clearly can’t. Not on your own. So Harwin plants his hips and thrusts, aiding you along.

You moan loudly.

“Like that. More.”

He is quick to obey, helping you bounce up and down. As you finally, finally reach the peak both of you have worked so hard for, you lean in and kiss him.

“I love you.” And it's glorious. The best feeling in the world, warm in your stomach, body taut from head to toe. The wave finally crashing against the shore, a faint buzzing in your ears.

“I love you too.” Harwin says, squeezing your hands. He waits until you open your eyes and catch your breath, before rolling you over. “My turn.”

You laugh. He thrusts several more times, before falling on top of you. His face is the most beautiful thing you have ever seen, and you tell him so, enjoying his blush.

You stay like that for a while, before you get too impatient. You wriggle a little, feeling sticky all over, but Harwin just pulls you closer.

“So. Lemon cake or just cake?”

“Lemon cake. Definitely.”

#harwin x reader #ser harwin strong #ser harwin x reader #harwin strong x reader #harwin smut #harwin strong #harwin x you #harwin breakbones #sir harwin #harwin strong smut #harwin strong x female reader #hotd fanfic #hotd x reader #hotd x you #asoiaf #asoiaf fanfic #cristi's bingo

513 notes · View notes

gtgbabie0 · 1 year

Note

I just saw this vid of a soon to be wed couple trying to decide on their wedding cake flavor with this ‘wedding cake tasting’ box that had a large variety with small bites of cake for each of them & I thought this would be such a cute concept with leon!! 💗

-Leon Kennedy x reader

{You and Leon taste test some cake for your wedding}

Ack! This is just too cute!! Hope you enjoy my lovely! 💕

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Leon had the biggest sweet tooth ever, even if he’d never admit it to anyone, you knew. He was the one to always pile the shopping trolly with sweets and cakes, even if you didn’t need them, in fact, you were certain that he prioritised sweets over anything else.

It’s for that exact reason that you don’t let him food shop by himself, you made that mistake once and he returned with snacks only.

“Oh!- try this one” you giggle, reading the ‘carrot cake’ label, and Leon already knows exactly what you’re trying to do. He can see your eyes gleam with mischief.

“Absolutely not,” he says, waving your hand away with his own. “Do you want our guests to be miserable?” He asks, grimacing slightly as you take a bite of the cake.

You shrug, your hand covering your mouth as you let out a laugh watching the way his face contorts with disgust.

“It’s not that bad- it doesn’t taste like carrots” You try and reason with him but to no avail, he’s adamant that carrot cake is just not for him.

In all honesty, Leon doesn’t care about the flavour of cake, as long as it puts a smile on your face and you’re happy then nothing else matters, as long as he gets to call you ‘Mr/s Kennedy’ for the rest of his life then he doesn’t care about the smaller things.

You turn to him, “Can I have a kiss?” You ask, smiling sweetly and he scoffs at you. His hand cupping your jaw gently.

“I’m not tasting the carrot cake,” he says, watching the way you fight the smile that pushes against your lips as you try to frown. Failing horribly.

He kisses the tip of your nose before going to try some of the lemon cake, nodding his head in immediate approval.

“It makes no sense I hope you know that. You’ve never tried it, you might really like it. Then you’ll be like ‘Aw damn why haven’t I tried this before it’s so good’” you tell him, watching as he side-eyes you and the carrot cake.

You can help but giggle at his behaviour. It’s not like he was a picky eater, he was willing to try something new now and then, so it baffles you that he’s being so stubborn over some cake, that is arguably not that bad.

“It’s simple really baby, fruit doesn’t belong on pizza and vegetables don’t belong in cake,” he tells you, and roll your eyes.

“Well you have tomatoes on pizza and that's a fruit” you inform him. And you can tell by the look in his eyes you’ve stumped him, perhaps that’s why he decides to smudge frosting all over your cheek. Sore loser.

You squeal pushing him away as he tries to attack you with more chocolate frosting, your hands wrapping around his wrists as you try to warn him off, whisper shouting at him to ‘behave himself’

He gives in eventually, and you sigh in relief as he sits back down wiping his hands with the napkins he’s hogging, “Oh sweetheart, you messy pup” he smiles at you as you roll your eyes, “You’ve got a little something” he laughs, motioning to your cheek.

You go and grab a napkin but he’s quick to pull them away from your reach. “You’ve had enough sugar for one day,” you tell him, wanting to so desperately wipe that shit-eating grin off his stupidly handsome face.

“Well, can I get just a little more?” He asks, hands against your hips as he pulls you closer to him. Your hands against his shoulders as he leans closer to you. His wet tongue licking a stripe against your cheek, collecting the chocolate frosting from your skin.

You immediately try to push him away, groaning out in disgust as you grimace at the feeling. “Delicious” he whispers finally letting you go as you grab a napkin or two wiping his spit off your cheek.

“God Leon you’re so gross” you whisper, grabbing a piece of carrot cake from behind you.

He rambles on about how you ‘love it’ and before he can even realise what you're doing you shove the slice of cake in his mouth, laughing at the shock that paints his face as he eats it, and Leon slowly comes to the conclusion that he might just like carrot cake.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

866 notes · View notes

esmedelacroix · 6 months

Text

Coffee Shop Love Pt.3

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!reader

summary: He's as stern and cold as the snow falling from the sky blanketing the bustling streets of Nueva York, Miguel O'Hara stumbles upon a hidden gem of a coffee shop just around the corner from Alchemax. Only problem is the annoying-as-shit smiley-ass barista.

contents: slow burn, no use of y/n, so much fluff, implied age gap, a teeny smidge of angst, suggestive

author's note: Hi lovies, third part! I'm so happy you all like this series! I really like writing it. Please let me know what you all liked its really helpful! Enjoy...

word count: 1.5k

Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3, Pt.4, Pt. 5, Pt.6, Pt.7, Sequel: Sweet Tooth

The next morning you got up and got ready to start baking for the morning rush. By the time you got down to the shop your two employees were already baking the muffins and cakes. You said hello and went over the menu for the day. You then started preparing lunch menu ingredients.

Just when you had finished the morning preparation and opened up. You felt your phone buzz in your back pocket. Which was weird because no one ever texted you in the morning. You took your phone out and stared at the message that awaited you.

Miguel: Hey could you make my coffee in advance? I'm running late today...

You: Of course, hurry!

Miguel: Maybe sneak a lil muffin in there...?

You: Sugar? Am I speaking to Miguel or an imposter?

Miguel: 😡

You smiled down at your phone. You had texted Miguel last night for a while before going to bed. Older people using emojis always cracks me up. You thought to yourself. You put your phone back in your pocket and made his order. While the morning rush built up to its usual catastrophic storm of angry city folk. Mr. Smith picked up his order and his rent, just when the morning rush was at peak catastrophe and the line was going out of the shop, you saw Miguel pull up to the sidewalk and step out of his car.

You put on your scarf and earmuffs, along with a puffer jacket and gloves before heading outside. If there was one bad thing about you, it's that you were practically allergic to cold weather. You rushed out to Miguel who was leaning against his car. "Hey, I came as fast as I could," you huffed out smiling at him.

"Thank you, Baby—you look warm," he teased. He noticed the way your eyes watered when gusts of wind carried snow. How the snowflakes fell on nose and eyelashes. The way your nose turned a slight shade of pink, he could already guess that if you didn't have those earmuffs on, your little ears would be pink too. Even though you were wrapped in the warmest clothes, you still looked so chilly Miguel was resisting the urge to wrap his arms around you and warm you up properly himself.

"I'm so sensitive to the cold, my hands and feet are always cold," you explained as you held his drink out to him as well as a little brown paper bag. "I packed you a lemon poppyseed muffin, something tells me you'll enjoy it," you said.

"Hmm, I let you know," he hummed looking away. He was obviously a bit embarrassed to be enjoying baked goods. You chuckled to yourself and shook your head.

"Get inside Baby, or you might freeze right where you stand," Miguel chuckled as he ushered you back into the shop.

You waved goodbye and entered the battlefield of morning brews and muffins. It was a long day but you looked forward to the clock finally striking 9 p.m. because you knew Miguel would walk in, probably get stuck in the mistletoe, and say hello.

So he had walked through the door into the empty shop and got caught in the mistletoe while accidentally knocked over the yuletide, your night was finally complete. You never would have thought that a man as intimidating as Miguel would also be so clumsy. But it wasn't his fault that he was incredibly tall and monstrously muscular.

"Miguel, can you stop trashing my shop?" you teased as you walked around the counter to fix your holiday decor. Just when you have adjusted the yuletide, his broad shoulder bumped into a bell and it fell as well.

"Great, now you're throwing stuff at me," you joked giggling at his clumsiness.

"Oh stop it," Miguel said rolling his eyes. The both of you were so lost in the moment of laughter and bliss that you didn't realize that you were standing at the entrance of the store. You both realized and looked above you to see the mistletoe, you felt the heat rise from your chest to your face all the way to your ears.

You had never been this close to Miguel so you never realized that his eyes which you thought were mahogany brown had a slight hint of ruby in them. They were both whiskey and wine while simultaneously being black coffee and velvet cake.

He smelled like sandalwood, vallina, musk, roses, and cedarwood. In short, he smelled better than sex. His scent drugged you and kept you in his trance while swimming in his eyes. You stared at each other far too long for it to be nothing. You finally broke the tension by clearing your throat. "It's too bad you don't believe in Christmas, I'm a really good kisser," you said as you began to walk back around the counter, hoping that he didn't notice how nervous you were. He walked up to the counter visibly not over what had just happened.

"Well, who said I don't believe in Christmas?" he asked.

"I said I haven't celebrated in a while," he explained correcting you.

"Are you just saying that because you want a smooch? So needy," you said shaking your head at him. You handed him his coffee, which you already started to make. Your question made him blush a bit. Cute.

"Don't worry you don't have to answer that question, but you have to tell me if you liked the muffin I made you," you asked with a shy smile.

"It was actually really good. But don't take that wrong way, I still don't like sweet things," he said.

"Yeah sure, anyway I'm going to drop the extras off at the homeless shelter down the road if you want to tag along?" you suggested

"Okay, I don't really have much to do," he replied rubbing the back of his neck.

You were partially asking so he could help load the stuff into your car. How could he blame you? He didn't have all that muscle for nothing. As you both got in the car and drove the short drive to the shelter, you sparked a bit of conversation. "So, I've never seen you around the area, did you just move here?" you asked.

"I moved recently, I actually work at Alchemax, it's not too far away," he explained. You let out an impressed hum.

"Ohh snazzy, what do you do there?" you asked as you taped the wheel rhythmically to the Frank Sinatra Christmas song playing in the background.

"I'm a geneticist," he answered.

"Yeah, I don't know what that is, but I was born and raised here," she said as Miguel laughed at her earlier comment.

"Tell me more," Miguel said under stifled laughter.

"The coffee shop is kind of a family heirloom if you will, it's been around for decades. Naturally, I followed in my parents' footsteps and went to culinary school. But my parents passed away a while ago so I couldn't finish school," she explained.

"Well, I'm sure your parents would be proud. I think you have this coffee thing down to a T," he said, making you smile like an idiot.

"Thank you, Miguel, that means a lot," you said as you pulled up to the shelter. You both got the stuff out of the trunk. You walked in and took it to the front desk where your best friend Estella was. "Hey, Baby—oh? Who's this? Boyfriend? Hookup?" she asked while sizing him up and giving you a nod of approval.

"This is Miguel and um, he's my uh—" you started trying to find the words.

"We're friends," he answered simply. Estella still looked at us suspiciously before letting the volunteers take the goods off our hands.

"Well you two have a great night, and Miguel, she may not look like it but, she likes it rough," Estella teased throwing a wink at Miguel.

"Oh my god, Estella!" you groaned as you walked out with Miguel and got back into the car. The ride was silent until he said, "Rough huh?"

"Please forget she said that," you said smiling sheepishly at the revelation.

"Oh, so you're not going to deny it?" he asked.

"Well, why deny it when it's true?" you said accepting the shame.

You had parked and looked over at his face for a reaction to this information. But nothing, you couldn't read his expression. The two of you spent the rest of the night chatting it up about everything under the sun(or moon). You have learned so much about Miguel.

You learned that he has a brother named Gabriel, his favorite color is red, he prefers chocolate over gummies(wrong opinion), and he absolutely has to keep eye contact when speaking with someone.

As you both continued to bond over Christmas cookies and brews, your moment was interrupted by a buzz from both of your phones. It was an amber alert that read:

[Blizzard Warning! This area til 9:00 PM EST Mon. All citizens must stay indoors. All roads closed]

Next... Pt.4

taglist:

@iite-cool@jewelz-teehe@br0-please@thesilenthill@d1lf-loverrr@amber-content

186 notes · View notes

babydollmarauders · 1 year

Text

MEDIA MANAGEMENT — JACK HUGHES (PART FIVE)

one — two — three — four — five

notes: i apologize, this one kinda sucks because i work all day so i made this at work! <3

y/ndevils00

liked by ehaula, nicohischier, and 28,729 others

y/ndevils00 hello fellow devils hockey sufferers! today our dear boys in red (and white) played against the NY Islanders. they didn’t do good.

to start us off, i have a couple super sexy warmup pics of my uber sweet and very in need of a haircut boyfriend, rowdy! that girl behind him is so me every time i see him 🤩

to follow that, the first penalty of the game tonight was awarded to said boyfriend! oh how i love a bad boy 🤭 he sat behind the stanchion and later admitted it was to hide from my camera, but jokes on him, i got a pic anyways!

next slide, we have captain swiss with his tongue out. I LOVE THAT SLUT!

up next, we have haulaback girl with the ONLY devils goal of the night! (i told you we suffered) so happy for my uncle haula (we are not related in any form)

and lastly, we have my wonderful marino (and the diamonds), making the facial expression that sums up how i was feeling the entire night!

we inevitably lost, 5-1, to the island dwellers. better luck thursday boys!

tagged jackhughes, nicohischier, ehaula and john.marino97

ehaula thank you niece! (we are not related in any form)

y/ndevils00 you’re so welcome! i appreciate you keeping us from getting shutout!

john.marino97 why that picture? seriously WHY?

y/ndevils00 why NOT?

john.marino97 when i get a penalty, i get sprayed with water or smacked with a newspaper, but when hughesy gets a penalty, you make out with him for about half of intermission?

y/ndevils00 i support jack’s rights. but more importantly, i support jack’s wrongs.

jackhughes it’s true, she loves when i do bad things

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes once again, not putting your dishes in the dishwasher is not “bad” and i do not love it. it’s annoying.

jackhughes you said you loved my hair

y/ndevils00 i lied.

jackhughes wow, this betrayal runs deep. idk how i’ll ever recover from this stab in the back

y/ndevils00 i think you’ll be fine later 👀

trevorzegras gross

nicohischier did you just call me a slut?

y/ndevils00 yes. i can change it though; slut, whore, whatever you’d prefer to be called.

nicohischier is my name an option?

y/ndevils00 no, sorry, there’s been a unanimous vote to eliminate that option

nicohischier what?! who voted?

y/ndevils00 me.

user3 i love that at least half the pics are usually always jack 😭

user57 she feeds us so well 😩🫶

dawson1417 i didn’t make the post?!

y/ndevils00 you didn’t do anything of note. do better.

jamie.drysdale i don’t go here, but i look forward to these posts

y/ndevils00 aww jameson! you’re so sweet 🤭 come visit me soon!

jamie.drysdale @/trevorzegras I GOT A Y/N NICKNAME BEFORE YOU! IN YOUR FACE Z!

jamie.drysdale and of course! i’ll try and make it out to jersey asap!

y/ndevils00 oh, trevor has a nickname!

trevorzegras @/y/ndevils00 i do?! you’ve never called me it! what is it?!

y/ndevils00 @/trevorzegras what are you talking about? i call you it all the time, satan’s favorite child!

trevorzegras @/jackhughes is it too late for me to take back my advice about telling her about your feelings? she’s mean

jackhughes @/y/ndevils00 @/trevorzegras why can’t you two just get along?

y/ndevils00 @/trevorzegras you love me, i bake you lemon cake in the summer! if jack were to break up with me, you’ll never have that again

trevorzegras @/jackhughes ya know what? on second thought, she can stay

#media management series <3 #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes fic #nj devils #new jersey devils #nhl blurb #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nico hischier #john marino #trevor zegras #dawson mercer #faithlynn’s insta edits <3 #faithlynn’s writings <3

499 notes · View notes

otteropera · 1 year

Text

Home (Jon Snow x Reader)

A/N - Only took me, what, like three months to finish this request? I kept coming back to it and re-reading and changing it but I finally FINISHED IT! The wonderful @pastanest requested this one so shoutout to her, if you are thirsting for Jon Snow (like me) GO CHECK HER OUT!!! She is an amazing writer and a wonderful person <3

Warnings - blood, RAMSAY BOLTON, violence... its game of thrones tbh

Word count - 5.7k

The fire had gone out weeks ago. No one who came in bothered to replenish it with wood, and I wasn't exactly in a position to do it, with my wrists chained to the floor. I'd had a lot of time to think about things. About my past, about Sansa, about what led me to this moment, about Jon.

I found that my mind went wandering to him quite often.

Nineteen years ago, after Robert’s Rebellion ended, many reunions were had. Fathers saw their children and wives saw their husbands. It was a sigh of relief for people who had their loved ones taken away, forced to fight the Mad King. My mother waited with baited breath, staring at the horizon everyday for months, praying to all the Gods that she would see him in the distance, finally returning to her. She held her budding belly with tears in her eyes, refusing to believe that she was living in a world without him.

She later passed away on the birthing bed.

If it weren’t for the wet-nurse that was able to arrive so quickly from a town over, I wouldn’t have made it. When word got to Eddard Stark that I was in fact alive, and without parents, he was quick to get me over to Winterfell. I don’t remember my life before the Starks, and I don’t have much of a need to. I befriended the Stark children and was welcomed into their home with open arms. My father gave his life in service to the realm, they felt it was the least they could do. From what Lord Eddard remembered of my parents, they were utterly and wholly in love.

Sansa and I clicked when we were younger. Although I was a few years older than her, we got along very well. We would brush each other's hair and put it in pretty braids, we'd giggle when the stable boys would flirt with us, and she would tease me for my crush on Jon. Once the two of us were of age, I was assigned as her lady-in-waiting. It was sort of like being Sansa's ‘official friend’, which wasn't hard. It really didn't change much; we got to spend all of our time together.

Sometimes, if I closed my eyes hard enough, I could go back to those days. When we were younger, we'd help sneak Arya out of her room and run down the corridors to the kitchen to steal any lemon cakes that were left from dinner. I was almost certain that Lord Eddard and Lady Catelyn knew what we were doing, but let us have our fun when they heard the laughter from the kitchens late at night.

"What are you doing?"

Jon stood in the doorway, his mouth slightly agape, eyebrows furrowed. Arya, Sansa, and I stilled, crumb-covered mouths tightly shut. I wasn't sure if it was our lack of sleep or the definite sugar high, but Arya burst out laughing, spewing bits of cake over the table, while Sansa and I did our best not to copy her, covering our mouths and stifling our laughs. With my quick and shy glances to Jon, I could tell he was having a hard time keeping a smile off his face.

"I can't believe you guys," he said, shaking his head. "You're worse than Bran."

Bran was notorious for stealing sweets. I hoped that wherever Sansa had escaped to, she got to eat as many lemon cakes as she pleased. It had been months since she got away from Ramsay’s hold, and sometimes I wondered if she would leave me here for good.

It was an awful thing to think, I knew that, but Ramsey knew how to get under my skin (literally) and drill some awful things into my mind. I couldn’t begin to imagine what he’d done to Sansa. Thankfully, he could go days without bothering to torment me, which usually meant that I didn’t get to eat either, but I was more than willing to trade that for some time away from Ramsay. The room that I’d been confined to was small and drafty, from what I could guess used to be an extra storage room for food, with the old flour bags and rotting potatoes. They were my bed most nights. Though I have to admit, it’s a step up from the cell outside with the dogs. Ramsay had been keeping me there until Sansa found out and refused to eat until I was moved to an actual room. She even got me a makeshift fireplace in an old cooking pot.

I was convinced that the only reason I was able to stay sane was by staying in my mind. Thinking of ten years ago, when I was growing up here with Sansa, Arya… Jon. When I was safe and happy and took everything for granted.

There was some irony in it. The place that I grew up in, that allowed me to build the friendships and relationships that I had, that allowed me to be free of the pain of growing up without a family, was then the same place that kept me from being with mine.

The door creaked open, and in walked the man who had chained me here. Ramsay knelt in front of me, placing down a bowl of stew. One glance at it and I was salivating. Meat, potatoes, carrots, celery, all steaming gloriously in the bowl in front of me. That was… odd. I’m not one to turn down a hot meal, especially when I hadn’t eaten in days, but I knew the games Ramsay played. I knew that there was… something else to it. Ramsay sat on the floor across from me, with that sick little half-smirk.

“It’s rude to refuse food from the Warden of the North,” he commented, clasping his hands together in front of him.

“He didn’t put this in front of me. You did.”

Ramsay let out a dry laugh, not letting his smile fall. I only managed to get that look off his face once, and I paid for it. However, I still found myself accepting the challenge of knocking Ramsay’s ego down a peg.

“I see you’re in a fine mood today, that’s good,” he paused, “I have good news.”

That was saying something, coming from him.

“The bastard is coming.”

I froze at that. It took a moment to realize that that’s what he wanted, he always wanted to get a rise out of me. I refused to give him any satisfaction. I had to stop myself from meeting his penetrating stare.

“I’d spoken to him earlier, along with my dear wife,” his emphasis on the word ‘wife’ made me want to vomit. “They’ll be coming to Winterfell tomorrow to try to take it from me, with lesser men. And when they lose," Ramsay's voice got quieter as he leaned in towards me, "Sansa will watch me flay you living. She will watch me feed you to those dogs, she will watch as you die in that cell, screaming and bleeding. I will make her understand what happens to those she cares about when she betrays me." His pitch black eyes stared into mine as I tried to control my breathing. I didn’t think I'd ever truly, wholly, and honestly wished for someone to die a painful death as much as I wished it for that man. I swallowed harshly.

"Winterfell has never been yours. It never will be," I whispered. He leaned back, loosening up, but his eyes looked empty as ever. And he smiled some more.

“Jon sounded awfully concerned for you.” No. No. “I’m assuming Sansa had told him about your… conditions here.” That was a nice way to put being held prisoner in your own home. “I wasn’t aware that you two had such a history.” I shouldn’t have even looked at him. All the emotion that I was trying to hide, he saw right through. The more I spoke, or acted, or looked, the more leverage he had against me. It was an impossible struggle.

“Don’t worry,” he leaned closer, his breath hot and putrid. There was nowhere for me to go. “I won’t kill him before I let him see you,” he snatched my face in his free hand, his grasp firm and unwavering. I felt the cool tip of a knife rest on my cheekbone. “He will see just how you’ve been holding up.” He dragged the knife agonizingly slow down the bare flesh, I was sure I would pass out. “And he will see all that I’ve done to you.”

I didn’t eat the stew until after he left. The chains rattled as I reached forward for it, slugging from the bowl like an animal. I didn’t like eating while he watched. Something about it felt… humiliating. Like he was watching one of his dogs rip someone apart after not feeding them for weeks, like he was proud of the way he had starved me. I was sure he was. I was sure he would love to see me eating like it was the last meal I’d ever indulge in.

***

Jon was outside the banquet hall, in the courtyard, slashing away at a dummy with his sword. The mead sloshed in their cups as I stepped toward him.

"I think you won," I commented once I got within earshot. He turned around, his face lighting up at my presence just enough for me to notice, causing my face to flush. "I smuggled you out a drink," I outstretched one of the cups, which he took while catching his breath.

"What am I missing in there?" Jon questioned, referring to the dinner party with the King and Queen, taking a slug from the cup.

"Well... the King is drunk, Sansa's gushing over Prince Joffrey, and Arya just got in trouble for catapulting food at her," I explained. Jon chuckled at the thought of it. "So nothing new, as far as our dinners go."

Jon went quiet, surprisingly. He'd tend to have a lot to say when I was around. His gaze was fixed on the cup, lost in thought.

"Is everything alright?" I asked. I've known him to be a bit upset about being forbidden from dinners, but he was usually better at hiding it.

"There's something I've been thinking about, that I want to tell you," he breathed out. "I'm taking the black. I leave the same day as the royal party with my Uncle Benjen." His eyes were on mine. I felt... conflicted. I was happy for him, I knew he'd do well up at Castle Black, given his bravery and swordsmanship. I knew that we all couldn't stay in Winterfell forever, that we were growing up. However, something in me hoped that wherever Jon would go, I could follow. The bastard and the Lady's maid.

"I'm happy for you." Truly, I was. I knew he'd always been worried about making something of himself. He would never have lands or a title, so it made sense he would seek to prove his worth through service to the realm.

"Thank you." There was a hint of sadness in his voice.

"From what I've heard I'll be going to King's Landing with Sansa. Serving as her handmaiden."

Jon hummed in response. He seemed to have the same reaction to my news as I had to his.

"I'll write to you," he commented. I didn't even bother trying to hide my growing smile.

"I'll write back."

***

The days were cold, but the nights felt colder. Ramsay sent in a Maester to treat the wound that he inflicted. I was no use to him dead, of course. It was sore to the touch. Through the small, barred window in the room, I could see that the sun was setting, as it did every night, and as it will continue to do well after I die in that place.

The first thing I noticed when I woke up was the throbbing pain in my face. It felt like it was on fire, which meant that my body was probably fighting an infection from the cut. Looking out my small window, the sunlight couldn't penetrate the clouds, leaving the sky a gloomy, milky gray.

Sometimes, when I was just waking up, I would forget where I was. I could open my eyes and be in King's Landing, with Sansa and Arya and Ned Stark. Or I could be waking up here in Winterfell, but in my own bed, in my own room, right across from Sansa's, how it used to be. Those moments were my favorite. When my mind was still fogged with sleep and I could swear that just yesterday I was reading in the Godswood with Jon. Sometimes I would see how long I could go before opening my eyes. It felt like when I did so, it cemented the pained reality of where I was, and who I was without. It's silly, really. No matter how hard I tried, I would still wake up surrounded by these four walls, in the same house that was no longer a home.

I must have dozed off again at some point, because the next time I rose I was awakened by the sounds of chaos outside. The window in my cell was far too high for me to see ground level out of, even if I wasn't chained. I had to use my hearing to discern what was happening.

The scrambling and shouting of soldiers, and a loud, rhythmic bang... bang... bang. It was coming from the front gate. Was... was it a siege? There was a shrieking of a creature that I couldn't name, and then more shouting and yelling, the clanging of swords. Then it stopped. I held my breath. It felt like ages until I could hear anything else.

Footsteps raced towards the door. I could hear muttering on the other side. There were two very different ideas of who could be coming to me at such a rush, one of which made bile rise in my throat.

"This has to be it, I know that he kept it locked and I remember it being by the kitchens," the sweet, feminine voice rushed out. I'd recognize her voice anywhere.

"Sansa?" My voice was hardly a whisper as I croaked out the name. I jumped when the door started shaking as though it was being kicked in. The chains clicked as I scrambled to stand up. Had they won? Was Winterfell back to the Starks? Was Jon here?

The door burst open and I locked eyes with the one who had been infiltrating my thoughts. He looked much more grown than I'd remembered. His dark, curly locks were pulled back with only a few strands in the front that had burst free. There were streaks on his face where dirt and blood had been haphazardly wiped away. Sansa engulfed me in a hug, pulling me in so tight I was sure she could tell just how little Ramsay was feeding me.

"I'm so sorry it took so long for us to get here, my escape wasn't planned, I would've never left without you if I'd known-"

"Sansa," I cut her off from her babbling, pulling back from the hug and holding her at arm's length. There were tears welling in her eyes, as well as mine. "It's okay, I'm okay." She let out a shaky breath, looking relieved I didn't resent her.

"Ramsay had the key on him." It took me a moment to realize what she was referring to, her and Jon's arrival had almost made me forget that I was still chained in the room. For the first time since she'd come in, she acknowledged Jon's presence by turning back towards him. He looked as though he'd just seen a ghost. To him, I guessed I might be one. He blinked a few times, seeming to snap out of his stupor and reached in his pocket, handing the rusty key over to Sansa. When the manacles fell with a clank to the floor, I felt like I could finally breathe. I rubbed the skin that was under them, it was red and irritated, which wasn't surprising.

"Are you hungry? I'll see what can be made.”

***

"It's for you." A boyish Jon stood at the foot of my bed, on unsteady feet, with a bowl of steaming soup in his hands. Even from the distance it smelled heavenly.

"You didn't have to, I was about to go to the kitchens," I complained, sitting up. Jon made his way around the bed, delicately placing the soup in my cold hands.

"Are you feeling any better?" I saw his hand start to move up as he asked the question, only to stop himself. Was he going to feel my forehead?

"A little," I lied, sipping from the side of the wooden bowl. The soup was hot and delicious; it had been prepared with herbs that were still growing outside. "Thank you."

"No need to thank me." He gave a small shrug but smiled anyway. "I'm just glad to see that you're eating again."

"Me too," I said, trying a spoonful this time. It was potato soup, my favorite. Had he known? Jon sat down next to me before continuing.

"I feel awful." I snapped my head up at his statement.

"Why? Are you feeling ill too?" I stammered, shifting under the furs. He chuckled through his nose.

"No," he sighed, "the stable hands warned me they were still training that horse, but I'd ridden her before and she was fine. I can't believe she threw you off like that, into the stream of all places." I had to suppress a smile, thinking back to the other day. Jon offered to teach me to ride a horse, as no one else would bother, and we'd spent the better part of a day out in the woods. It was the most fun I'd had in ages. Towards the end, my horse had gotten a bit fussy and, well…

Jon was quick to get my sopping wet figure back into the gates of Winterfell, but it wasn't quick enough to stop me from catching a cold. I truly didn't mind. Any time spent with Jon was valuable to me.

"Don't feel bad, it's part of learning... people fall. In streams, sometimes," I muttered towards the end.

Jon's face pulled into a smile at my comment. "Well, let's hope your second attempt at riding doesn't involve a broken bone or two."

***

Potato soup. I was sitting in front of a crackling fireplace, wrapped in furs, with a bowl of hot potato soup that conspicuously arrived. In that moment I wondered if I truly had passed away at Ramsay’s hand, if that was real, if I was just dreaming, still locked in the room.

I knew that I should eat, but the hollowness of my stomach made the food smell less than desirable. Sansa hadn't left my side since she'd unlocked the chains and brought me into the room, going on about the past few months. I hadn't said much.

"How do you feel? You’re quiet,” she bit her lip.

My throat hurt, it was dry. I swallowed hard, clearing it before answering.

“Okay. It's just so good to be warm." I had no idea how long I'd been cold. I often stayed balled up in that room, as tight as I could. I tucked my extremities into myself and dreamed of the sun. I took a breath and brought the bowl to my lips.

"Jon was shocked to hear you were still alive." I almost choked on the soup. Sansa smiled, one that looked devilish. "I knew you were close when we were younger, but I wasn't expecting him to react how he did," Sansa thought out loud.

"How did he react?" My curiosity got the best of me. I set the bowl down on the small table next to me.

"I'd told him soon after Brienne, Poddrick, and I arrived at Castle Black," I quirked my head at the names, but she was too consumed in her story to notice, "that you were still at Winterfell. He was furious, he wanted to come straight here, but I wouldn't let him." Sansa looked down, wringing her hands. "I convinced him to wait, to gather more men. Otherwise it would have been a slaughter."

I put my hands on hers, her glossed eyes met mine.

"You did the right thing," I reassured her. I knew she felt guilty for not getting here sooner, but she did what was best. I'd feel worse if they'd come sooner, and Ramsay's threats rang true.

"Rickon-" Sansa choked a sob, "h-he-"

I shushed her and put my arms around her shoulders. I'd seen some Winterfell men carrying his body through the gates on our way to this room. "I know," I whispered, shedding tears of my own. I didn't dare ask her how he died, I knew enough. That it was by Ramsay's hand, without a doubt.

We sat for a while longer, both comforted by the silence. The warmth of the fire and the contentment of the soup helped me relax. I realized that I'd been clenching my teeth, so I released them. I'd been in an awful lot of pain the past few months. The wound on my face would leave a plump scar, that I was sure of. Our silence was interrupted by a few maids entering with warm buckets of water for a bath. The mischievous smile on Sansa's face told me she had planned that. It wasn't until the maids had filled up the tub and left that I got the courage to ask the question that was lingering in my mind.

"Where's Jon? I haven't seen him since..." since I was freed from my cell? Since I saw him for the first time in years? Since he looked at me and his stare penetrated my being?

"I believe he's with some of the men of Winterfell, gathering up any survivors of Ramsay's men in the castle," she replied, giving me a look. She knew why I asked. I could only imagine what Jon was doing to Ramsay’s men "I'll leave you to it," she stood, her long furs flowing down to her ankles. It was then that I realized this room was intended to be mine. "I'm sure a bath is just what you need." I nodded in response, and she swiftly exited the room.

***

Jon hissed and pulled back slightly at the damp cloth I held against his temple.

"I have to clean it, Jon," I pleaded.

"I know," he breathed out. "It stings." I could see the pain in the way he scrunched up his face.

"I’m sorry." His eyebrows scrunched together at my apology, his eyes locked to mine. I could hear the wheels turning in his head.

Jon and I had a silent understanding of each other. While we had different reasons for being at Winterfell, we were both seen as slightly less-than the Stark children. Of course, I wasn't scolded by Catelyn nearly as much as Jon was. However, we were both instructed to stand behind the Stark's during the Royal family's arrival, never with them. While Jon was told not to attend the feast at all, I was tasked to stay at Sansa's side.

We noticed these differences, we saw them at a very young age, and we protected each other. We looked out for one another in an unspoken pact, that was shown by Jon walking me to my chambers late after the sun went down, and my defending him when Catelyn was always too harsh.

"Jon, I was fine. Those stable boys didn't cause me any harm."

"They were throwing cow shit at you," Jon blurted out. I had to suppress a grin, he was fuming.

"Well, they didn't have very good aim," I muttered. Jon returned his hardened gaze to the gloves that were clutched in his hand, he must not have found my comment very funny.

"Eddard and Catelyn will have an earful for you, you know. Especially Catelyn." He turned away from me.

"I know," he said quietly, "those boys didn't put up much of a fight," Jon pulled my hand down, and grasped it in his. "I'd do it again." My heart fluttered and I swallowed hard.

***

I recalled the memory in the bath. It was so vivid, his warm hand gripping my fingers, his eyes locked on mine and saw everything inside them. It was the first time he ever offered to defend me like that.

I had scrubbed myself too hard in the bath and opened the wound on my face. I stayed in the water until it turned murky and cold. I wanted to rid myself of every piece of Ramsay, though I knew it wouldn’t be possible. At least, not for a long time. My only motivation for exiting the bath was the small trickle of blood down my face. After drying off and dressing, I exited the chamber and made my way to what used to be Maester Luwin’s space. Surely, there would be a healer of some sorts there.

It was dark outside, the moon shone bright above. A chill breeze blew through the halls. I pulled my furs tighter against me and walked to the door, opening it. There was no one inside. The room was littered with medical supplies, my best guess was whatever Maester was here had been out tending to any wounded men from the battle. Though I'd patched up Arya's scrapes and scratches from playing too rough with Bran before. With the supplies here, I could fix myself up. It took me a moment of fumbling through the shelves and drawers to find a healing balm in a small wooden bowl. The smell of it reminded me of Maester Luwin. His hands were always covered in the minty salve.

The sound of footsteps coming down the hall startled me, and I nearly dropped the bowl. A soft knock sounded on the door, and I was almost certain I knew who it was. I didn't waste a moment, rushing to the door and opening it. Jon was standing in front of me, his dark hair smoothed back, the moonlight made shadows dance across his face. He wore a plain black tunic with his cloak over it. The air rushed from my lungs. It couldn't have been more than a few moments, standing there, gazing at each other. But I felt like I could spend the rest of my days looking into his warm brown eyes, and I would be content.

"You stopped writing back." There was a hint of amusement in his words, the type that only someone who'd known him well enough could pick up on. I did.

I didn't bother trying to hold back the smile and the tears as we engulfed each other. His arms felt strong and real. One of his hands held me at the back of my head, pulling me so close to him that there was no room for doubt. His breath felt warm on my neck, sending a dance of shivers down my back. I sniffled, holding onto him with every part of me. We stayed together like that for what seemed an eternity.

Finally, he broke our embrace, keeping his hand on the back of my head, holding it, holding me. "I've missed you."

My lips quivered when I spoke, unable to form the right words. "I... I've missed you too." There were so many things I wanted to tell him, so many stories and so many people that I'd met, but he looked at me so intently that words fell flat on my tongue.

He held my gaze and I was sure I'd burst into flames. "How are you?" he asked softly. "Are you hurt anywhere else besides there?" His calloused thumb brushed just below the cut on my face. By the gods, I must’ve been a thousand shades of red.

He'd gained a few new scars himself, his face was littered with them. The little nicks in his skin and the dark shadows of his face made him look so... mature. He was no longer the boy who's cheek I'd pecked before he left for the Night's Watch. "No," I said quietly, wringing my hands. "Nothing serious. Just cuts and bruises."

"That's serious," he started analyzing me, trying to find any, "it's you." I smiled again.

"Come here." He dropped his hand from me, closing the door behind him. I immediately missed the warmth he brought to my skin. I turned to follow him, and saw that he was already holding the bowl of salve. With feather light touches, he began to apply to the wound on my face. It stung at first, if only for a moment, but once the minty coolness took effect, I let out a breath of relief. I hadn't realized I closed my eyes until Jon placed his fingers under my chin, tilting my head sideways to get better access to the cut. When I opened them, they found his. The downward curve of his brow told me something.

"What's wrong?" I asked. My voice cracked a bit, and I cleared my throat.

Jon shook his head, leaning back against the wooden desk. His gaze fell to the floor. "I wanted to come sooner, but we didn't have the men," his soft brown eyes followed the curve of the wound down my face, "I'm sorry." For a moment, I thought I saw a wetness in his eyes.

A lump formed in my throat, and I swallowed hard. "For what? Winterfell is back to the Starks. You did what you had to do."

His expression softened. "I know," he said quietly, "I don't think I can thank you enough for keeping Sansa safe the past few years." He reached out to brush the hair away from my forehead, and I could feel the heat radiating off his hand. "She told me everything. About Joffrey, Baelish... Ramsey." He spat out the last name with venom as his jaw hardened.

"Is he...?" I didn't need to finish asking the question for Jon to understand.

"Sansa put him with his hounds. I don't imagine he'll be there much longer."

I knew exactly what that meant, and a breath of relief left me, one I never knew I was holding in. Though I'd felt relieved, I knew that it wasn't the end of Ramsay's torment. He would continue to haunt the darkest parts of my mind. I would continue to have nightmares where his touch was everywhere, and no matter what I did or said, I couldn't shake him off of me. I'd only experienced a fraction of what Sansa had from him. I couldn't imagine what she'd been going through. She was stronger than me, that I knew for certain. I made a mental note to talk to her about, at the very least let her know that I was willing to, if that was what she chose. Jon's warm hand on my arm pulled me from my thoughts. He was looking at me, expectantly.

"What?"

"I asked if you'd like me to walk you back to your room," his voice was laced with concern.

I tried not to show how his offer made my heart squeeze. I nodded. We walked side by side through the castle halls, silent except for the occasional murmur of voices drifting around us. Once or twice, we passed another person, but neither of us acknowledged their presence. The silence was nerve-wracking. It didn't take long before we reached my room, a small smile tugging at his lips. I stopped short outside the doors, turning to face him. He was right behind me.

"Was the potato soup any good?" Jon asked, and it took only a moment before it clicked in my head.

"That was you?"

"So it's still your favorite, I take it?"

"I-... yes."

Jon smiled and nodded his head slightly, stepping back. He was starting to leave. A burning ache ran deep inside me. I felt myself longing for him, although he was right in front of me. "Jon..." I paused. His presence was doing that thing again where it made it very hard for me to speak. I needed him to say something. Anything. So when he said nothing, I continued. "Would you... stay, for a little while? Please?" I finished lamely.

It was all the encouragement he needed to step forward and set his hands on either side of my face. His thumb rubbed along my cheekbone and up toward my hairline, making me shiver. His eyes flew back and forth between mine, looking for permission that he always had. He nodded delicately, pulling me in and pressing a kiss to my lips. It was so soft, so gentle, so tentative. But even that small moment made my stomach twist into knots and my knees go weak. I closed my eyes, savoring the feel of his lips on mine, letting the lingering feelings of the past few months melt away. It didn't matter that there was still so much to be said, so much to figure out and plan with the retaking of Winterfell. Things would melt into place, as I melted into him.

Ramsay had left his mark on me, literally and figuratively. And maybe he would continue to live in the parts of my mind that he clawed out space for, but Jon never needed to claim space for himself. He had it earlier when he kicked down the door to my cage, when he hugged me tightly goodbye the day he left for Castle Black, when he showed me that smile that always turned my insides to mush, and every time in between. All without having to ask for it. He was slowly filling it with warmth, with love. With life. So maybe Ramsay had some part of me, one that I may never get back... but those parts were all Jon’s, and I'd always treasure them.

As his lips moved against mine, I realized I’d made it.

I finally felt like I was home.

Tags: @pastanest @nyotamalfoy

#jon snow #jon snow x reader #jon snow fanfiction #jon snow imagine #got fanfiction #game of thrones #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones imagine #asoif/got #asoaif

424 notes · View notes

nyimasu · 1 year

Text

───── 𝐿𝐴𝑉𝐸𝑁𝐷𝐸𝑅 𝐶𝐴𝐾𝐸

PAIRING — gojo satoru x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS — literally nothing could stop gojo from having his way with you, and when you accepted to try out something new, the man almost fainted on the spot.

CW — consensual somnophilia (consent has been granted before the act takes place), oral (f receiving), mention of wet dreams, tad of hair pulling ehe, when in the mood gojo can be a true gentleman, bits of aftercare at the end //

WC — 1.3k ;; cross-posted on ao3

ANYA'S CORNER — lavender cake is delicious indeed, especially with lemon and a sprinkle of sugar. fyi it's vegan and really easy to make! hope you enjoy this *blows kisses*

REBLOGS ARE HIGHLY APPRECIATED!

Lavender.

That’s what your scent smelled like as you rolled over to the side in the bed, hair pressing on your partner’s pillow. Completely oblivious to his thoughts, for he was wide awake and hungrily eyeing your thighs under the blanket, you sighed.

Nothing sexual, just the natural response any other person having a good dream would have. And you were having a really good one.

But Gojo’s mind was running a mile a minute. It had been at that for almost an hour, actually.

He lost himself in the way you looked so at peace when sleeping, your nose scrunching from time to time as to sniff something you couldn’t quite figure out yet. His favorite view, however, was to see your lips occasionally curl into a content smile.

It would’ve been even better to see your mouth agape with surprise as his digits plunged into your pussy, inner walls massaging and squeezing him while you were still dozing off. There was nothing wrong with it, after all: you had both agreed beforehand to try it out if you or Satoru were in the right mood, and that time it happened to be him.

"God, you look good enough to eat."

After discarding his shirt and the blanket quicker than light, his knees hit the floor and delicately dragged you at the edge of the bed by the calves, parting your legs with a hand before placing himself between them. He then went down, snow white feathery strokes tickling your bare stomach until his eyes met a fresh wave of arousal trapped by the damp front of your underwear.

What are you dreaming about?

Chuckling, Gojo moved it to the side and pressed his nose on your clit, inhaling your essence into his every body cell. He couldn’t get enough of it. You squirmed a bit under him, the sensation somehow strange yet welcomed, and immediately relaxed when a familiar hand started rubbing soothing circles on your hip bone.

Just to let out a drowsy moan the man copied straight away, only his vibrated louder and clearer against your slit, right where his tongue rested on and then licked a fat strip from the bottom to the top. And he did it again a few more times, his gaze fixated on your face even as one finger slipped past your wet folds.

And you sucked him in enough time for his mouth to encapsulate your tender bud, carrying on with his ministrations and oh-so slow pace set. "You taste so amazing, fuck. So happy you enjoyed the lavender cake I made for you, baby. Should I do it more often, huh?"

Pussy drunk once, pussy drunk forever. And that description fit Satoru like a glove for, if not working or out with friends, his hands or mouth were ever drowned amidst your thighs.

Your eyes cracked open to the dimness of the room, still hazy and a bit confused about what your body was feeling. Well, any lingering sleepiness or confusion faded away really soon, anyway.

It was after a second digit joined the other one in stretching you open that Gojo raised his head to the feeling of your hand on it, your broken breath adding to the obscene sounds your sopping cunt was making. Because Satoru locked eyes with yours and gave your swollen clit a kitten kiss, proceeding to suck the outer lips as the starving man he always proved to be.

To you. "-toru." pupils blown and voice stuck in the back of the throat, your body acted before your brain did, resulting in your back and hips getting off the mattress and bucking up into his lustful mouth and experienced fingers.

He matched his movements with yours and stiffened his tongue inside you, letting your overheated self adjust to the pleasurable intrusion provided by him. You couldn’t bear to hold his gaze. It was too much.

So you shielded yours with a forearm, but Gojo promptly stretched out his free hand and laced his fingers with your quivering ones. "Don’t shy away. Let me see how good I’m making you feel. Can you do it for me, precious?" All you managed to breath out was a choked “yes” followed by a nod, and your partner placed yet another open-mouthed kiss on your inner thigh. "Atta girl."

A third and final finger came to play with your bundle of nerves and you threw your head back on the pillow, the speed of them increasing and decreasing to Gojo’s amusement and your obvious annoyance. "D-don’t tease." "Ah-ah. Say please."

The frustrated scoff leaving you didn’t surprise Satoru, but it did the violent yank at his roots from your part. Most importantly, it did startle him the intensity of the airless cry of pleasure crawling out of his throat.

A glance shared in the split second everything went still was all it took for you to whip at his hair again, and for his digits to drag along your spongy insides so fast you were afraid bruises or burns would stud them. Not that you minded.

The new momentum drove you to hold onto Gojo as you neared your release, and he followed the erratic pattern of your hips with his fingers. Until they left your warmth, the emptiness soon filled with the staggering pressure of his eager tongue on your slit. "You’re close, precious? Give me everything. Come on my tongue."

A feeble moan shook your chest as your thighs almost suffocated him, and he let you. If he had to choose the best way to go, being crushed by you as your juices painted his esophagus was definitely at the top of the list.

You bent upward to meet his wet muscle one last time before plopping down onto the bed, your vision turning white and your fingers desperately squeezing either his pearly strands or long digits still above your chest as he stood by his word.

Humming to himself how good you tasted and what a good girl you were for him after lapping up what was left of your release, his locks and hands glided past your touch and you simply stared. Stared at the brief’s tightness around his cock. Stared at the wet spot on them with drool pooling in your mouth.

Stared at the web of veins pushing against his skin as his index, middle finger and annular glistening with your clear liquid approached your already half ajar mouth.

"You have me wrapped around your pinky, precious. I also have you around mine, haven’t I? But you love my hands so much you’d do anything I ask to keep ‘em close. Open. Savour what you do to me."

You complied, and another bead of slick gushed down your thighs when your taste buds recognised your own release. Gojo took in the way your eyes flickered shut, how your breasts raised more and more by every clever stroke of your tongue you gave to his fingers. Until he realised why you were so impatient to have his body on yours.

He hadn’t kissed you yet.

"Aw, baby. You want my lips? Here." As the dip in the bed hollowed further when he rested part of his weight and his mouth on yours, you sneaked a hand between your flush bodies to free him from the restraint of his boxers, stroking his pretty dick with a hand.

How could he possibly know you were dreaming about what just happened in reality before waking up? The only thing out of place was the location, though.

In the dream, you were in a lavender field, the sun kissing your limbs as Satoru nipped at your tender flesh between your legs. And your eyes wandered behind him for a moment, right where a bush of fragrant flowers enhanced Gojo’s natural scent.

Red roses.

That’s what he smelled like.

#voice of cassandra #jjk drabbles #gojo drabbles #gojo smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru smut #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut

493 notes · View notes

zer05trange · 2 months

Text

Roaring Sea

V. дом

⋆｡°✩ (childe x fem!reader)✩°｡⋆

⋆｡°✩ premise: a week after you discovered the truth of Tartaglia’s occupation, his little brother comes in for a visit.

⋆｡°✩warnings: mentions of sickness, canon-typical violence

⋆｡°✩ series masterlist

Flour, eggs, apples, cinnamon, sugar, and vanilla.

For once in your life, you just stare at the ingredients in front of you. You don't begin to make your cherished sharlotka, though you were commissioned to make five of them for a wedding. The last thing that you wanted to make for a wedding was the cake you made with Tartaglia.

Childe, Tartaglia, whatever his name is.

It had been a week since you made him leave your apartment for good, announcing that you'd never want to see him again.

You've been trying to regain normalcy, the normalcy that you had before you even met him. You knew you shouldn't have tried to get into the dating world, it would ruin your relationship with your business and disturb your peace.

Today, you try to remain calm and get back into your working schedule, but the thoughts of what happened last week linger in your mind as an unwelcome visitor. As much as you try to push the memories away, it still keeps you from focusing.

You're so unfocused that you don't hear the door open, signaling a new customer coming in, and you don't hear the customer plop down at one of the counter's bar stools.

"старшая сестра!" You hear a young, familiar voice from behind you. You whip around, and your heart rate immediately picks up.

"Teucer," Your soft voice says endearingly, masking the uncomfortability of his presence, "How are you doing?"

He nods happily, beaming up at you, "I'm okay! I'm just very tired. I went on a huge adventure!"

You smile at him, absentmindedly handing him a free slice of lemon cake.

"And what were you up to?" You ask as you pour him a mug of hot chocolate.

"I traveled to Liyue!" He says innocently, "I took a boat there all by myself, and then I stayed there for a while, and then I came back."

You cock your eyebrow, waiting for him to elaborate as you turn back and bring the ingredients over across from him. But he waits for you to prompt him.

"So what business did you have traveling to Liyue all by yourself?" You look at him as you begin to chop up the apples.

"I wanted to see my big brother! He gave me some toys while I was there, then made me go back here," He responds, and your stomach drops.

It's normal for Teucer to talk about his family, and his brother, but the mention of Tartaglia makes you feel sick now.

“How was Liyue?” You ask, still trying to keep a conversation without further dragging Tartaglia into it.

Teucer lights up as he begins to talk about the eccentric lights, the food, and the scenery of Liyue. You try to actively listen, but with each mention of his brother, the knot in your stomach tightens.

" So after he gave me this toy," He holds up a tiny ruin guard, "He made me go back home. He said that I'm more safe here, and people will take care of me better in Snezhnaya."

You want to scoff, you can feel sickness rising up from your stomach. But this is Teucer just repeating his words, so you can't.

"Well, he's right. You're safer here, at home with your siblings. And you know this place much better than Liyue," You take his empty plate, "And you're always welcome here."

For someone who thought he had no soul left, the pain in Ajax's chest stood notable and cut deep. After a week, he thought he'd be able to shrug off the feelings; they weren't real, just an escape from his job, and an escape from his loneliness.

But no, he wakes up and feels horrible, he goes and does his missions and feels barren. Even when meeting with his friends, he can't escape the lingering pain manifesting in his heart and fogging up his chest.

There's only one thing that can even slightly dull the pain, and that doing the exact thing that put him in this situation.

Ahead of him and to his left, are a group of camping treasure hoarders. He can tell that they're scheming, looking for something to disrupt the order of their surroundings. Ahead and to his right, are two ruin guards walking about the mountains of Liyue.

He can feel it, that distress and anger coming from within him. And he must release it.

One group of humans, and one group of machines.

Almost mindlessly, he finds himself dashing toward the ruin guards. This way, he can bring destruction to something without killing a human being, which is what brought upon the distress and sadness he's felt for the past week.

He begins to shoot their weak points, instantly shooting them down so he could destroy them without their retaliation.

With each slash of his blades, his muscles relax further.

He doesn't know how long he's been in this field. It could've been mere minutes or lengthy hours, but finally, there's nothing left for him to fight. There's just small pieces of metal surrounding him, one couldn't even tell that there were ruin guards in the first place.

The treasure hoarders are long gone, only leaving Ajax in the barren mountain horizon.

He pants, catching his breath as he retires his weapon. Ajax feels a warm liquid on his cheek, he brings his finger up to his face and wipes it off. His finger is coated in familiar red liquid, as he notices his cut from last week had reopened.

Besides the physical sting it brought him, it was yet another reminder of what occurred the week before. With every step he took in Liyue, he found some sign or symbol that brought him back to the bakery in Snezhnaya.

He'd come back to Snezhnaya once his time in Liyue was over. But would Ajax ever return to the bakery? Would he ever come back to you?

If it was up to him, he'd take the first ship out of Liyue and dash out of it, returning to the stairwell to your apartment instantly.

One day, he hopes to see you walking downtown the streets of Snezhnaya. He'd make a fool out of himself to win you back, even if it meant tarnishing his reputation as a harbinger to the public.

But it's not up to him. You told him you never wanted to see him again, so he will abide by it. No matter how much it hurts him.

⋆｡°✩translation: дом- home, старшая сестра- big sister

⋆｡°✩a/n: Hello!! I am so sorry for not posting on schedule! Midterms hit me like a TRUCK but I took some time to finish writing the work! I have a few more chapters left!! Thank you guys for reading and supporting me, it means the world <3333

⋆｡°✩tag list: @inlovewithlondonn @zamorazz @ay4tou @kur0melon @boomie-123 @esthelily @i-simp-for-giyuu @itsflowerdomethings @whatamidoing89 @luvrkise @ninjaartsimping

63 notes · View notes

livingdreams97 · 3 months

Text

Eloise Bridgerton - "The Prince" (Part 3)

Eloise Bridgerton x Male reader/oc

Summary: Two people who have never seen each other before, with the same need and desire to be free in different ways. What could come of that when both people meet each other?

Words: 4.181

PREVIOUS /// NEXT

Masterlist

POV You

Just as I had discussed with Eloise that night in the maze. I have been showing my interest towards her in a more noticeable way and she towards me too.

Four days have passed since that night and on each of the days I have gone to the Bridgerton house, had tea and thus could spend more time with Eloise in front of her mother. Of course, I have never appeared empty-handed, because if anything it is etiquette and manners regarding situations like these.

The first day I showed up with a lemon cake, along with a bouquet of Eloise's favorite flowers which were daisies, blue roses and blue dahlias. Also along with a bouquet of violets for her mother. It goes without saying that the matriarch was impressed and Eloise gave me a subtle wink as a sign of success.

The second day I turned up with some cakes and Lady Bridgerton 's favorite sweets. Since having a detail with the mother is always well seen and adds points at all times.

On the third day I was a little more daring, bringing a carrot cake made by myself; with the help of the cook and Eloise 's favorite chocolates.

And today I had decided on a book on the natural sciences and their use in medicine, since my studies had come to light in one of my conversations with Eloise and she had shown an interest. So I thought it was a good idea to give her a basic book on the subject, because she likes to read and I'm sure she'll appreciate it more than the desserts.

While for her mother, I brought her favorite sandwiches so that she can accompany the tea with them.

I knock on the door of the Bridgerton house , making sure my black tailcoat is tied securely, my khaki slacks are wrinkle-free and my tie is tied just right.

I put my hat back on and take a deep breath. The door opens, letting me see the housekeeper of the place and she, recognizing me, allows me to pass.

Before entering the house, I receive the gifts from my coachman and I thank him by entering the site. I follow the woman into the living room, where I immediately see Lady Bridgerton sewing something, Eloise reading a book sitting on the sofa in a tomboyish manner, and the younger members of the family playing chess.

XX: My lady, Prince Y/n of Hanover is here. - she informs her of my arrival and I see how the matriarch gets up from the couch immediately.

Violet: What a pleasure to have you back here.- she walks towards me excitedly, passing by her daughter and giving her a light blow to make her sit good; causing a small amused smile from me.

Y/n: The pleasure is all mine Lady Bridgerton .- I assure her, greeting her with a kiss on her hand. -I hope I was right when i choose them.- I commented, extending the box with the sandwiches .

Violet: It wasn't necessary my lord.- she denies with a small smile receiving the box.

Y/n: Don't tell me my lord Lady Bridgerton, we are not in public and honestly I feel a bit old when it comes to it.- I say with a certain humor. -As long as you calls me by my name, we will be more than fine.- I assure her with a smile.

Violet: Okey Y/n, are you coming to have tea with us? - she asks with some emotion and illusion.

Y/n: If you are so kind as to accept me, then I would like to have tea with you. - I respond politely and without imposing myself.

Violet: I'm going to tell them to prepare it outside, since it's a wonderful day and the garden is beautiful. - she warns and leaves the room with a huge smile.

Gregory: When my sister marries you, will I be a prince too? - he asks running towards me, as soon as his mother disappears and with his sister by his side.

Hyacinth: And can I be a princess? - questions excited. - Because if Gregory can be a prince, I want to be a princess too.- she says confidently, receiving a push from her brother and she returns it.

Gregory: You're a copycat.- he reproaches her and I can't help but think about my absurd and childish fights with my brother when we were just kids.

I watch as they playfully push each other, poking each other and can only look longingly at them. I long for when life was as simple as copying your brother or playing a prank on him to annoy him.

Eloise: Stop fighting and making a fool of yourselfs.- she tells them, separating them by the heads. -Second, like "when my sister marries you"? - she asks his little brother.

Gregory: Mom says you're getting married, because Y/n comes every day for you and because he likes you.- he answers as if it were obvious and that causes me to laugh without being able to avoid it.

Eloise: Mom said that? - asks with a surprised expression.

Hyacinth: She and Lady Danbury have commented on it, they compare you with the work they did with Daphne and the Duke.- the youngest of all responds this time and I can't help but look at the oldest with a raised eyebrow.

Eloise: And what makes you think that I will marry him? - she points at me and I pretend to be offended; causing the children to laugh.

Hyacinth: Because you talk to him for more than a minute and you don't complain about him like you do with the rest of the suitors.- she answers as if it were the most obvious.

Y/n: So you don't complain about me? - I ask with amusement . -It's interesting to know.- I assure her, seeing how she kills me with her eyes.

Violet: We can go outside, they are already organizing the tea.- she warns us happily, entering the room and seeing the four of us standing together. -What are you talking about? - interested question.

Gregory: About how Y/n and Eloise are going to get married and I 'll be a prince.- he answers with total sincerity, causing the matriarch to open her eyes surprised and somewhat curious.

Eloise: Don't pay any attention to them, mother, the dwarves are just saying nonsense and commenting on some unimportant things they've heard.- She brushes the matter off with her hand.

Violet: Okay.- she nods not very convinced. -Let's go out.- she points out and placing her hands on her children's shoulders pushes them out.

I laugh at the attitude of the youngest and the conspiracies of Lady Danbury and Lady Bridgerton about my possible relationship with Eloise .

Eloise: Are you okay? - she asks me after a few seconds.

Y/n: Yes of course, why wouldn't I be? - I ask somewhat confused, starting to walk out with her.

Eloise: When my brothers have started to fight, you made a sad and somewhat thoughtful face.- she answers me with a small grimace. -And I wanted to know if you were alright.- she comments and I nod with a slight smile.

Y/n: I just remembered what it was like to be his age and fight with my older brother for any trifle.- I answer with a slightly sad face. -But I'm fine.- I assure her with a small smile.

Violet: Y/n and Eloise sit together on that side.- she points to the two free seats at the round table outside.

I take Eloise 's chair out for her to sit in, tucking her in nicely, then I sit to her right and across from the Bridgerton matriarch .

As soon as we sit down, tea and sandwiches along with other sweets are served on the table. And it is at that moment that I remember the book in my hand.

Y/n: Before I forget.- I speak turning to Eloise and stretching her the book. - The other day we talked about my studies and since you showed some interest regarding natural science and its uses in medicine, I have brought you this book for you to read.- I informed her seeing the smile appear on her face.

Eloise: Thank you.- she thanks me by receiving the book and opening it immediately. -There are things written.- she comments confused.

Y/n: It's my book; well it was, now it's yours. - I pointed out a bit nervous. -I asked my father to send it to me, since it is quite interesting and something basic so that you can understand it better.- I comment with a small smile. -What is written are my notes, which I wrote at the time to better understand the concepts and I have believed that this way it would be easier for you to understand everything too. It took me a while to understand everything, but to be honest; You're smarter than me and I'm sure you won't need the notes. But I wanted to make sure and that's why I'm giving you my old book and not a new one. - I explain to her, pointing to the small paragraphs written by hand on some pages.

Eloise: Thank you very much Y/n, it means a lot that you give me this book.- she assures me with a smile, looking into my eyes and I can see how her beautiful blue eyes water slightly.

Y/n: It's nothing, I know how much you appreciate books; I thought you would like and appreciate a book more than another dessert. - I explain somewhat embarrassed, scratching the back of my neck and feeling observed.

I couldn't tear my gaze from Eloise 's, feeling that if I look away from her I'll miss the happiness and excitement that sparkles in her eyes at the gift. And that's something I don't want to miss for the world.

POV Narrator

What he wasn't aware of, and neither was Eloise , was the look that Violet Bridgerton was giving into the interaction between his daughter and the prince. As she watched with a smile full of happiness, her daughter's face lit up at the detail and the prince's own detail towards her daughter.

Her daughter could deny it all she wanted, but she was falling in love with the Prince of Hannover and her eyes or the way she looked at him couldn't hide it. And for the first time, the former viscountess felt calm about the future of her rebellious daughter. Because she had someone who cared and would take proper care of her.

And Violet Bridgerton didn't just see that look on his daughter, She could also look at the look the prince was giving her daughter and the slightly reddish color of his cheeks. She just hopes that she and Lady Danbury are right and that the proposal is close.

Because her daughter had never looked at anyone like she was doing at that moment with Prince Y/n and she didn't want anything or anyone to get in the way of her happiness.

Eloise's POV

I was determined, I was going to accept the proposal and marry Prince Y/n. Sure, if the offer still stood.

After weighing it carefully for almost four days, I have realized that I win much more than I can lose. And not only will I end up winning, but my family and Y/n will also win; so it's the best I can do.

Also, that Y/n is not so bad and every day I am enjoying his presence and company more. The truth is that I never imagined that I would get married, but it was because it went against my ideals and my growth as a human being.

But I know that with Y/n my growth as a human being and as a woman will not be crushed or reduced in any way. The freedom that I would have is also something that has pushed me to accept, since that is something that has made it clear to me and I can do what I want as long as it is not something that puts my "marriage" at risk.

And lastly, Y/n was a nice company and I can have an intellectual discussion with him . Without feeling insulted by my sex and my "few" studies or level of knowledge.

He had been really great to me. My mother, like every day, has not stopped asking the prince questions and talking to him in an animated way. Like my little brothers, who have not stopped asking questions about the crown and royalty like every day.

Leaving little time for me to talk to him and tell him in a hidden way that I accept the proposal.

Just before he leaves, I stop him and look around making sure no one sees us. Once I make sure that my mother is busy with my brothers and they with my mother; I have the green light.

Eloise: I accept.- I tell him directly.

Y/n: Accept what?- he asks a bit confused.

Eloise: You are supposed to have studied and gone to the university.- I reproached him amused, giving him a light blow to the back of the head.

Y/n: That's not a reason to hit me.- he claims, rubbing the affected area.

Eloise: Exaggerated.- I say because of her reaction to the light blow. -But I accept your proposal.- I clarify and after a few seconds he opens his eyes in surprise.

Y/n: Are you serious? - he asks excited and with a certain illusion shining in his precious emerald eyes.

Eloise: I'm not kidding, you don't see how I laugh.- I say sarcastically causing him to laugh.

Y/n: I don't care about your horrible humor.- he downplays it with a smile. -I have to think about how to ask your mother for your hand, in the ring and in the house.- he enumerates and opens his eyes. -Where do you want the house? - he asks me with interest.

Eloise: Near Aubrey Hall, it's my family's country house and I don't want to be far from them, but I don't want to be in the center.- I answer. -In addition to the fact that my family is only here during the social season, then they live at Aubrey Hall for the rest of the year.- I explain and he nods in agreement.

Y/n: Perfect, well I guess I'll be back tomorrow for the I 'll ask your mother for your hand.- He nods according to his own plan.

Eloise: I'm afraid we won't be here tomorrow.- I comment with a grimace and I see how the smile disappears from his face.

Y/n: And why is that? - he asks confused.

Eloise: We're going to Aubrey Hall for the weekend, to bond with the family and spend time together; and blah blah blah.- I downplay any kind of importance.

Violet: What are you two talking about? - she asks appearing out of nowhere and scaring us completely.

Eloise: For God's sake mother, don't appear like that.- I ask with a hand on my chest and feeling the accelerated beating of my heart.

Violet: Sorry dear, I didn't know you were so engrossed in your conversation and that you hadn't seen me.- she apologized with an amused smile for my reaction.

Y/n: It's okay, the scares help keep the heart beating.- he says with an amused smile.

Violet: So? What were you talking about? - she returns to question too interested from my point of view.

Eloise: About the fact that tomorrow we're going to Aubrey Hall and that we'll spend the weekend there, so we won't be here for the prince Y/n to come for tea.- I answer my mother and see how the gears of her head begin to move.

Violet: Maybe Y/n can join us and be our guest this weekend.- she offers and it doesn't seem like a bad idea to me.

Y/n: I don't want to impose myself on your family weekend.- he denies with a small smile.

Violet: Don't say nonsense, you don't impose yourself and I'm also inviting you.- she assures him happily. -In addition, the Sharmas and Lady Danbury will also accompany us for another year. In fact, I'm surprised that Lady Danbury hasn't told you anything.- she says a little confused and thoughtful.

Y/n: It will be because of Edwina and her possible relationship with my cousin Friederich .- he comments a bit insecure. -From what I know, they spend a lot of time together and since my aunt can't be supervising all the time, it's Lady Danbury's turn to be watching.- he shrugged at the information.

Violet: Then we'll see each other tomorrow at Aubrey Hall.- she assures Y/n. -Let's go out, so I tell one of my drivers to give directions on how to get to your coachman.- she says threading her arm through the prince's and pulling him towards the entrance of the house.

I just laugh, when he looks at me over his shoulder with a face between surprise and amusement at my mother's attitude.

I shake my head and sigh calmly, knowing that many of my problems will be solved as soon as Y/n asks my mother for my hand. And the rest of my problems will be solved when the prince and I give each other the "yes, I want".

Because something is clear to me, if my mother believes that Y/n is going to ask me to marry him and that we are in love; the rest of the world will believe it too. Because if there is something that my mother is in this life: she is insightful.

None of my brothers have been able to deceive our mother, since she always knew when something did not quite fit and we hid something. So if Lady Danbury is being talked to about my possible marriage to the prince; it means that she believed it.

POV You

As soon as I get to the palace after being at the Bridgerton house , I head towards the tea room and where I'm sure my aunt is.

Now that Eloise has accepted the proposal to marry me, I have to start organizing the proposal and I need my aunt for it. I know that Eloise is not her favorite person after the last season, since at first she was sure it was Lady Whistledown and then she dismissed it; when her political position came to light.

Y/n: Aunt.- I greeted entering the room and making a reference. -I have to talk to you in private.- I ask and I see how she nods giving her servants a look.

Charlotte: Sit down dear.- she asks me pointing to the hole next to her on the sofa . -Tell me what do you want to talk about ? - she asks me interested when I sit next to her.

Y/n: You know that I have come to London with one intention, which is to fall in love and marry a woman from high society, right? - I ask a little nervous, because my aunt is the key to making everything believable and if she doesn't accept my engagement; neither will my father.

Charlotte: I am aware of this and that is why I put Lady Danbury as your supervisor, so that you could be successful in this first season. - she nods with a serious face.

Y/n: Well, that's what I wanted to talk to you about, aunt.- I point out the interest in her eyes. -I have found the person I want to marry and I want to have your blessing to ask for her mother's hand.- I comment with all the confidence in the world.

Charlotte: So soon? - clearly surprised question. -We've barely been in the season for three weeks.- she says, somewhat impressed.

Y/n: I know, but I can't explain what I feel when I see her or when I'm with her aunt.- I start to say to make it sound credible. -Besides that you have always told me that love does not have a predestined time.- I remind her with a small smile.

Charlotte: Are you sure dear? - she asks me and I just nod. -Do you love her? - she asks staring into my eyes and I stay for a few seconds thinking.

Y/n: Yes.- I answer without taking my eyes off his, trying to look sincere and credible.

Charlotte: Then I give you my permission.- she nods with a huge smile. -And can you tell who is the lucky one? - she questions interested.

Y/n: Eloise Bridgerton, aunt.- I answer confidently and I see the surprise and a hint of annoyance appear on her face.

Charlotte: No.- she denies immediately.

Y/n: Aunt please, I love her and I want to marry her.- I ask, grabbing one of her hands and looking at her with pity.

Charlotte: Can't you choose someone else? Someone who doesn't hang out with political radicals? - she asks in the form of a complaint.

Y/n: She's not a radical girl, she's intelligent and has something on her mind besides the pianoforte.- I defend her without thinking. -The hours fly by when I talk to her, I feel comfortable and I feel that she really wants to be with me because of who I am; and not for being the prince aunt.- I say honestly.

Charlotte: And I'm glad you feel that way about someone dear nephew. But couldn't it be anyone else? - she asks in surrender and I smiled knowing what it means.

Y/n: I'm sorry aunt, but she's the right one for me and I'm sure that if you meet her you'll like her too.- I assure her smiling and seeing how a slight smile appears on her face.

Charlotte: I'll accept her because for me you're like a son and if she makes you happy I can't oppose it.- she finally accepts and I jump on her to hug her.

Y/n: Thanks aunt, you don't know how much this means to me.- I tell her when we parted from the hug.

Charlotte: And how do you plan to ask for her hand? - question interested and excited by the event.

Y/n: Lady Bridgerton has invited me to spend the weekend with them and Lady Danbury at Aubrey Hall; and tomorrow when I arrives I'll ask for her daughter's hand and if she accepts I'll ask her after dinner. - I reply a bit nervous, due to the possibility that she refuses and the plan is spoiled.

Charlotte: And you already have the ring? - she ask and I deny. -Well, come with me dear.- she asks me getting up and I walk next to her.

We walk towards her dressing room, where there is a table full of precious stones on a table in the center and as soon as we stop in front of her she opens a box in the center.

When she opens the box, I widen my eyes to see what's inside and look at her in astonishment.

Charlotte: This was one of the first rings that King George gave me as a gift.- she comments showing me the ring. -The king discovered that emeralds were my favorite stone and he thought it would be a good gift for me; and he was right.- she tells me looking at the ring with a certain sadness and affection.

Y/n: It's beautiful aunt.- I compliment seeing the brilliant stones of the ring.

Charlotte: It has a lot of meaning to me and that's why I want you to have it.- she tells me, offering me the box.

Y/n: No, aunt, as you think, I can't accept something so important and with so much emotional value.- I deny immediately.

Charlotte: I insist.- she says pushing the box in my hands. -I want you to ask that girl to marry me with my ring, for me you are my son and I want this ring to pass into your hands.- she explains and I nod, looking at the ring more carefully .

Y/n: It really is precious. - I whisper, looking hypnotized at the great emerald in the ring.

Charlotte: And valuable, that's why I want you to ask her to marry you with that ring and pass it on from generation to generation.- she assures me and I nod safely.

Y/n: Thank you very much aunt.- I thank her again and hug her again; immediately being wrapped in her arms in an almost maternal way.

Charlotte: I am very proud of you my little one and of how much you have matured; your mother would be proud too. - she whispered safely against my ear and I can't help but tighten the hug feeling the itch in my eyes.

I'm sure you wouldn't be so proud if you knew the truth and the reason for my marriage. She always defended love and from the first day she told me to marry for love. That I would never marry for any other reason than love and here I am, marrying by agreement with my father.

Y/n: Thank you.- I whisper feeling the guilt invade me.

Charlotte: Also, I understand that that girl also likes emeralds.- she assures me amused when we part from the embrace.

Y/n: Let's hope for the best.- I comment amused and looking again at the ring in my hands.

Now all I have to do is pack for this weekend and have Lady Bridgerton accept my marriage proposal to Eloise. I just hope everything goes well.

#eloise bridgerton #bridgerton #eloise bridgerton x reader #bridgerton netflix #eloise bridgerton x male reader #anthony bridgerton #lady whistledown #queen charlotte #benedict bridgerton #violet bridgerton #edwina sharma #kate sharma #oc character #male reader

69 notes · View notes

dangerkittenclaws · 3 months

Text

little number

server 141 valentine’s day exchange (thank you to @bunnyreaper for putting it all together)

my valentine is @angelofacidx <3

I had a lot of fun writing this as I obviously got carried away as I usually do! So enjoy and I hope you have a wonderful Valentine’s Day lovely :)

simon x johnny x reader

word count: 2.2k

warnings: MDNI +18, poly smut

“Something special is waiting for you!”

You hit send to the group chat between your two boyfriends and yourself. It's a picture of you posing in front of your full-length mirror wearing your new lingerie.

You got the set just for Valentine’s Day, a baby pink mesh bra and matching panties both with tiny white hearts dotted all over.

Simon and Johnny have been on this mission for the last two months and with some contact here and there, it’s never enough. They had been told they wouldn’t be home for another week and would be missing one of your favorite holidays.

“Goddamn”

“We need more pictures than that, lass”

You attach three more pictures of different poses. A close up of your bra with your nipples peeking through just behind the material. Another of you from the side, kneeling and leaning back on one hand with your back arched. And the last one from behind, showing off your round, plump ass with your panties off, hanging from your fingers on the other hand.

“My hands are going to ruin that little number and then your pussy if you keep playing like that.”

“Not if I get to her first.”

You love being a tease while they are away. Something about them only having each other and pictures and videos of you makes it more exciting. By the end of each mission, they practically act like dogs and are at your beck and call the moment they get through the door.

The night of the 13th rolls around and you get ready for bed. Once you’ve showered, shaved and gone through your round of care products, you put on a pair of soft pajama shorts and pick out one of Johnny’s old t-shirts. It still smells like him. You pull back the covers on the bed and turn on your favorite Disney movie to wind down. You don’t even remember shutting your eyes before you hear your alarm ringing too early in the morning. Little did you know though, they were currently walking across the tarmac with bags in hand to get on a flight back to you.

“Today won't be quite the same without you both”

“Happy Valentine’s Day <3” you text to the chat.

You don’t get a response back, but that’s to be expected sometimes. They are working, after all.

You wash up and dress for the day, grabbing your purse and jacket before heading out and locking the door behind you.

“Hurry up, Si! We got a pretty lady waiting for us!”

“She won’t even be home yet by the time we’re there. We still have to make dinner.” Simon laughs at Johnny’s eagerness, closing the car door as they step up onto the sidewalk.

They decide to split for a moment; Johnny goes to the left to get the dessert from your favorite little bakery and Simon goes right to run into the grocery store.

Johnny remembers your favorite, a small lemon raspberry cake, just big enough for the three of you to share.

“I love you sweetness” a text comes through. They must finally be having a break, you think.

“I hope you’re having a good day, mo ghraidh.” You smile down at your phone, quick to touch the keyboard to reply.

Simon gets all of the ingredients for a nice steak dinner and he doesn’t forget a bouquet of roses and baby's breath for you.

When they finally arrive home, they both work like a well oiled machine to set up the house for you in surprise. Johnny takes to lighting candles and scattering rose petals in your bedroom with a grin on his face while Simon commits to getting dinner made.

Luckily they finish with enough time to spare to wash themselves of their trip and a little make out session of their own as they share the steam of the shower. They restrain themselves to go any further, wanting to see you first.

Simon smirks as he trails his fingers across the little number you had sent, it hanging from your dresser drawer. He thinks of all the ways he’s going to have you tonight and reiterates the thought of tearing it off of your body.

“Siiiii! She’s home!” you hear, fumbling with your keys more.

They both nearly trample you over, two big dogs who still are puppies at heart. Simon gets to you first, squeezing you tight.

“Si... can’t… breathe..” he instantly loosens his hold, only for Johnny to envelop you both in a bear hug.

“Happy Valentine’s Day bonnie!”

“I thought you guys weren’t home for another week, Price said!” you smiled wide, tears in your eyes.

Johnny kisses you like his life depended on it. Simon shoves your purse off of your shoulder, making room for his lips to be on your neck.

“So did we, but it finished early and lover-boy here made us all dinner.”

“I… really? I’m sorry, I’m just so happy to see you both.” you cry.

You kiss Simon on his beautiful scarred lips before Johnny takes your hand, leading you to the dining room to show you what they had put together.

“This is so sweet of both of you. I wish I knew you were going to be home in time, I would’ve done something too.”

“You are something enough, lovey. Now sit, you need to eat so you can keep up tonight,” he winks at you.

“Simon’s right, those pictures just don’t do your body justice, hen.”

Your outfit choice for the day probably wasn't helping their lingering eyes. A black mesh long sleeve with a low cut vest paired with some black wide leg slacks. You regularly pushed the boundaries of business casual in your office. The vest showed off your generous cleavage through the mesh in the right light.

“Looks like you get to see it for yourself right here in front of you.” You take a sip of your water, letting the condensation run down your hand, down your wrist before setting the glass down. Their eyes follow your fingertips as you slowly trail over your own jawline to your lips, pretending to be as innocent as possible.

You can practically see them drooling. You take another bite of garlicky steak, and another bite of buttery mashed potatoes, but not before using your lips to shape it to your spoon.

“So, how was your flight in, then?” you start, trying to act as if you didn't want to maul the two men in front of you.

You stab another chunk of meat, making sure to soak up as much juice as you can before lifting it to your lips. You purposefully let the red flow from your lips, enough to make a trail down your neck to the middle of your chest. You put on a practiced surprised look as you reach for your napkin. You didn't even make it that far before you heard the chair across from you sliding against the tile.

“That’s it,” Simon growls out. He quickly moves his chair back, standing to his full height before stepping towards you. His hand is around your throat, making you instantly look up to him with pleading eyes before he pulls you out of your chair and against his chest.

You smirk inside your brain, you made his resolve break before you even got halfway through dinner.

“You just couldn’t behave yourself, could you, lass?”

You glance at Johnny to the side of you.

“Of course she couldn’t, the little whore is just as desperate as we are.” Simon has his lips on your own just as he’s finished speaking, swallowing every noise you make.

You whimper and squirm against his strong hold. You notice Johnny's warmth come up behind you. You feel his hands gliding over your hips, fingertips digging into soft skin. Its almost sensory overload as you get attacked from both sides.

Lips and hands on every inch of skin they could find and claim as their own. One particular hickey being made on your neck makes you moan out.

“I've missed those sweet sounds of yours, lass, so much.” Johnny rambles as he comes up for air.

Your hands wander too, between Simon's chest in front of you and Johnny's thighs that are flush with the backs of your own. You still feel like being a tease as you reach backwards towards Johnny with one hand. You firmly rub the palm of your hand along his hard cock that’s still confined to his fitted jeans. He bites off a whimper that escapes him when he feels you grasp around his entire cock.

You feel Simons smirk against your lips when he hears this, you know he has a special deviation when he has two submissives. Your other hand reaches up and around Simon, scratching at the hair on the nape of his neck before digging your nails in lightly. Your nails are his kryptonite. You can practically see his eyes roll back and he smiles evilly.

Before you can think of your next move, you're being picked up and carried to the bedroom. You yelp in surprise.

You're thrown onto the bed, Simon clawing at your clothes in an effort to discard them to the floor. He succeeds as Johnny does the same to him. Simon takes the back of Johnny's neck into his hand, giving him a squeeze that makes him melt like putty in both his hands and mouth. You can feel your pussy clench at the sight of your two men kissing each other.

Once Simon has had his fill, Johnny refocuses his attention to you, knowing what he wants right away. He pulls you up onto all fours and sheds his jeans. His thick cock bobs in front of your face and your eyes go wide. He takes a fistful of your hair and your mouth opens.

“Look at tha’, trained her so good Si, ready to take cock at any moment,” he mumbles out.

He slides his cock into your mouth easily, moaning out at the warmth enveloping him. You do your best to try to take him in all the way before he hits the back of your throat. You gag a little at first but keep sucking, you’ve missed him so much. The hand he has in your hair tightens as he curses out as the other reaches down to play with your nipples. He just cant help but to start to fuck your mouth a bit faster. Your breath tries to keep up, but tears start to run when a smack comes across your ass from behind.

“You like when he face fucks you, huh?”

You try to respond but all you can do is moan around the cock in your mouth. You look up at Johnny for the first time to see his eyes half lidded, full of lust.

“God I love yer eyes when my cock is in yer mouth.” He wipes away blackened tears that are running down your face. He doesn't stop thrusting.

Simon takes this opportunity to spit in his hand and start stroking his cock before he gets up behind you. You feel his weight shift the bed and it gets you excited. You know your pussy is glistening wet without having to look. Getting talked to like that will make that happen.

You push back against him when you feel his hand on your inner thighs, lining himself up with your entrance.

Simon groans out as the tip of his cock slides in between your velvet folds. You close your eyes until you’re full to the hilt with him.

“This pussy was made to take my cock, love.”

He sets a pace that makes your body rock forwards, taking in more of Johnny each time. Simon reaches a hand around and sets an equally fast pace against your clit that's slick with the two of you.

You’re being used from both ends and your mind starts to feel fuzzy. Johnny pulls out of your mouth when he sees you’re about to cum. He jerks at his cock a few times as you moan out loudly, arms shaking. He looks up to see Simons eyes closed, hands gripping your hips as he fucks into you and he comes onto your face.

You open your glazed over eyes when you feel warmth hit your skin.

That's when Simon pushes you down to your chest, making your back arch and ass press flush against his hips.

His thrusts become uncoordinated but no less powerful until he finally slows with another long groan. He cums deep inside your cunt that's still pulsing around him.

All three of you sigh, releasing the tension that's built up for a little more than two months.

You instantly curl up onto your side, exhausted, not wanting to leave your soft bed and two lovers. You feel a warm cloth wiping both your face and pussy shortly afterwards.

You’re still deep within your mind with a smile on your face as you hear Johnny, “Looks like that little number in the drawer will have to be ripped off another night.”

#cod fanfic #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #simon x johnny x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #valentines day

59 notes · View notes