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sourcherryandsprinkles · 14 days

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Jacaerys returns to Dragonstone after spending some time in Winterfell. He comes back looking differently…and has learned some new things 😏👅🐱

Request: 9 for Jacee ‘’Where have you learned to do that?’’

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f receiving), slight fingering, assumption of cheating

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Months have gone by since the prince Jacaerys left for Winterfell to gain House Stark and the North for the cause of his mother, Queen Rhaenyra. His visit should have been a short one, but Cregan Stark insisted he spent more time in the North. According to his letter, Lord Stark had taken a liking to him and wanted Jacaerys to get a true experience of the North. He said that getting closer to the northmen would help gain their support.

Life on Dragonstone was lonely without him. A part of yourself was missing.

You spent time with Baela and Rhaena, helped Lucerys get more confident with his dragon, played with Joffrey when no one would. You were in the early stages of a civil war, the adults didn’t have much time for the young boy. The Queen was grateful for your help.

A few days ago, after you got back from riding your dragon, a raven came from Winterfell — a new message from Jacaerys saying he should be expected to return in the late afternoon.

Excitement bubbled in your stomach.

Rushing to your chamber, you didn't want to greet him smelling of dragon. You shed your riding clothes as a handmaid helped you fill your tub with hot water. She added rose oil to make your skin soft and you made sure to scrub extra hard with the brush. You wanted to look nice for Jacaerys.

After bathing, you put on a clean dress and asked Baela for help with your hair. She was the best at braiding.

‘’Do you think he missed me while he was away?’’

Behind you, Baela chuckled as she twisted your braids and pinned them. ‘’I wouldn't doubt it, Lady Y/N.’’

Hearing a dragon's roar, you jumped and went to your window. The air was gloomy, making it difficult to see through the horizon. You bit your lip, searching for an olive green shape. Although he was a small dragon, Vermax’s red wings were easy to discern in the skies.

You glanced over your shoulder to Baela. ‘’They’re here.’’

She finished your hair, ensuring every strand fell perfectly in place, and you descended the stairs with Baela on your tracks.

As you reached the great hall, you saw the Queen and her children standing near the painted table, accompanied by a hubbub of voices. Lucerys talked animatedly about sword practice while a very excited Joffrey was jumping on his feet, excited to see his big brother. Rhaenyra told them to quiet down and give Jacaerys some air, which made you laugh.

The sound caught their attention, and Jacaerys' eyes shifted to you.

He had grown since he left — his shoulders broader, his stature more commanding. His once pin-straight hair now cascaded in soft curls that framed his face perfectly. He looked nothing like a Targaryen anymore.

‘’Jace,’’ you whispered, a smile lighting up your face as you approached him.

For supper, a small feast was held in his honor. Daemon and Rhaena joined you for the meal, raising their cup to Jacaerys’ return.

When the hour started to get late, you and Jacaerys retired to your chamber. Half-way there up the stairs, he pulled you into a corner of the staircase and kissed you the way he had been dying to since he got back. You pulled a moan out of him when your teeth glided against his bottom lip, and circled your arms around his neck as his hands were gripping your hips with a strength that was new.

A voice came from the staircase below — probably one of the servants —, prying the two of you apart. You giggled against Jacaerys' shoulder.

Once you reached the privacy of your chamber, Jacaerys shut the door and drew you to him again as he kissed along your jaw and down your neck. You moaned under the touch of his mouth, melting against him as your fingers worked on each other’s clothes, pulling at the laces and buckles until they fell off your bodies and onto the floor.

You tried to not step on your dress as you walked back to the bed, then let your shift slip down your shoulders and pool at your feet, leaving you fully naked.

‘’Gods.’’

You blushed as Jacaerys followed down your neck to between your legs, taking his time to admire your body. You had never felt truly desired before him. Only objectified — as were all women in Westeros.

‘’Do you like what you see, my Prince?’’ you asked, his eyes finding their way back to yours.

Jacaerys didn’t respond. All he did was gently push you down into the bed.

You expected him to get on the bed too, but to your surprise, he kneeled at the end of it and pulled you close to the edge. A frown drew between your eyebrows as you looked down. You opened your mouth to ask what he was doing on the floor, but the words got caught in your throat as Jacaerys kissed the inside of your thighs.

It was something new, but not disagreeable.

Then, he pushed your thighs further apart and pressed the sweetest kiss right over your slit, causing you to squirm.

‘’Jace, what are you—’’

Your question died on your tongue as he peaked out and flicked your clit, sending a jolting sensation up your core. Jacaerys didn't stop there — he was far from finished with you. He laid his tongue flat and licked a fat strip up your entrance to your clit, stirring a gasp from your lips.

Your reaction made him smile, encouraging him to pursue. He took a second lick of your cunt, then captured your clit between his lips to suckle at. You let out a mewl of pleasure, your hand traveling down your body to clutch at Jacaerys's soft hair. He alternated between sucking and licking at you, the room filling with obscene noises as your legs tightened on each side of his face, caging him.

Releasing your clit, Jacaerys slid his tongue between your folds, tasting your arousal on his tongue. You've had his fingers inside you, but never his tongue. Arching your back, you pushed against his face, asking for more. And Jacaerys was happy to give it to you, adding a finger to the mix and pushing deeper inside you.

With your free hand, you clutched the sheets, biting your lips and holding back the moans that wanted to slip out. Had Lucerys’s bedchamber not been so close to yours, you would not have held them back. But y0u didn’t wish to scar his young ears. The poor boy would not be able to look you in the eyes again.

Jacaerys withdrew his tongue and added a second finger, moving the former back to your clit and making a slobbering mess all over you.

The rush of pleasure filling your body intensified and you rolled your hips into his face with abandon as your orgasm snapped. Your husband’s name left your lips in a delicate whimper, throwing your head back as he lapped at you, taking everything you were giving him.

Easing your hands off his hair, you slowed your hips down.

Jacaerys took the cue and left your pussy alone.

‘’Where did you learn that?’’ you asked, looking down between your legs as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

He rose to his feet and fell back on the bed with you. ‘’The North.’’

Your heart sank, and a knot formed in your stomach. Thoughts raced through your mind, thinking he had bedded another woman. You would have never thought that he would commit infidelity.

Seeing the concern etched across your face, Jacaerys reached out to gently cup your cheek, his touch warm and reassuring. ‘’No,’’ he said softly, his eyes searching yours for understanding. ‘’Not…’’ He shook his head. ‘’Never.’’

His words washed over you like a wave of relief.

‘’Northmen, when they get drunk, they talk a lot. About their hunts, about their horses, about the things they do to their women in bed. I didn’t know women could be kissed there, but I wanted to try it. Did you…did you enjoy it?’’

A smile curled on your lips as you looked at him. His physique may have changed while he was in the North, but inside, he was the same nervous boy you wed in the spring.

You nodded slowly. ‘’Can you do it again?’’

—

House of the dragon taglist: @khaleesihavilliard @domoron @ididliquorice @lover-of-helios @lover-of-helios @shine101 @tanyaherondale @mikariell95 @serrendiipty @lantsovheiress @gilliananderfuckme @shine101 @tetgod @clayzayden@memeorydotcom @tnu-ree @futuregws @blackravena @winxschester @mysteriouslydelightfulchaos @xxlaynaxx @secretsthathauntus @pilarxxxaguayo @emmavan39 @stargaryenx @erylilly @bbblackmamba @rainedrop97 @dreamer087 @gothicgay14 @ashlatano7567 @superkittywonderland @justaproudslytherpuff @evesolstice @buckysmainhxe @padfootsvixen @scarletmeii @evesolstice @dkathl @kaywsworld @tetgod @padfootsvixen @domoron @weird-addiction @angeliod @xjennyx2 @adaydreamaway08 @mymultiveres @secretsthathauntus @puffycreamcakes @thirsty4nonlivingmen@naty-1001@katiepie67@moshpot24x@hc-geralt-23 @lovelynerdytraveler@saturn-sas @zgzgh @sssjuico10 @tabloidteen @timetoten @deekaag@wondxrgurl@aerangi@strmborns@astridyoo15 @daemonslittlebitch @queenbeestuffs @severewobblerlightdragon @agentstarkid @msliz @vane1999-blog @fairyfolkloresposts @todaywasafairytale07 @otomaniac @zgzgzh @thebeardedmoon @golden-library @kikyrizuki @hnslchw @camy85 @winxschester @armstrongscommentsection

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#jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon imagine #house of the dragon #hotd #house of the dragon imagine #game of thrones

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fanaticsnail · 6 months

Text

Remember Me

Hello Shanks fans!

This work was requested by @aishabbbb, which I linked back to here for the full description of the prompt. This is my third (technically fourth because my thoughts ran away with me!) requested work that I've completed.

I'm not currently taking requests, but if you do want to see my writing style depict a specific idea, I will honestly most likely hyper-fixate on it until the idea consumes me if you do ask me nice enough. I do appreciate a good prompt! And seriously, who doesn't love an amnesia trope!

Word Count: 6,636

My Masterlist is here!

Echoes of gruff laughter lingered in the air as tankards of ale clanged against one another. It had been a while since the Red-Hair Pirates had made port and as they viewed a rowdy port full of lively music, contagious laughter and bursting at the seams with a variety of pleasurable company; they could not resist.

This port had been known for some time to be a lawless town, accepting of any journeymen as they resupplied their vessels, sailors selling their wares and even the odd Marine here or there had graced the town with their presence. The World Government paid no mind to the comings or goings, knowing should the port be shut down; their supply of rum would slowly dwindle away.

The Captain of the Red-Hair Pirates sat upon a stool at the rear of the room as he stared into the bottom of his tankard, watching the amber liquid slosh from side to side. He withdrew into himself; his former joy and carefree attitude no longer present on his features this night.

A woman with a painted face sauntered over towards the captain, swaying her hips as she overemphasized her intentions.

“Care for some company, sweetheart?” she asked him in a sultry tone as she took his hand in hers that still clasped the tankard. He made eye contact and smiled from the corner of his mouth before withdrawing the hand from her grip and drew his drinking vessel to his mouth.

“Not today, love,” he said, taking a drink from his tankard, “but I can point you in the direction of someone who would be more than happy to share your time.”

She smiled as Shanks gestured to his senior officer, who had a black bandana featuring a white jolly roger insignia atop his lengthy blonde hair. His expression was one of a displeasing grimace, black glasses concealing more of his irritation behind them.

“See if you can bring a smile to his face, would you?” he laughed slightly as she nodded as she made her way to her next target.

Plonking two fresh pints down on the table before him, Benn Beckman sighed as he sat on a stool facing his Captain; taking one of the pints and gesturing for Shanks to do the same.

“You turned her away?” Beckman questioned his Captain, “I thought you’d enjoy a pretty blonde giving you attention this time.”

“I’m not as open today as I have been any other day to the company of a painted lady,” Shanks laughed in response raising his pint and clanging it against his First-Mate’s, “or any other man or woman you’ve since such sent my way. You know this.”

“Oh,” Beckman uttered, eyes widening before looking down at the table, “I didn’t realise it was today. Sorry Cap’n.”

“Don’t apologise, Beckman,” he smiled at him before drinking from the tankard. He moaned slightly as the cool, bubbling liquid hit his lips and he tasted the bitter flavour of the hoppy amber ale.

“How long has it been since-?” Beckman began, halting his words in search for the more appropriate way of phrasing it.

“How long has it been since my bride was claimed at sea?” Shanks offered to complete his First-Mate’s sentence. Beckman nodded in response, gesturing with his pint for Shanks to offer his answer.

Shanks sighed and leant back in his stool, his back thumping against the small railing at the back.

“This day marks ten years,” he added with a sad smile. A silence fell between them as they reminisced the day the Captain of the Red-Hair Pirate’s wife was lost to him.

After a brief pause, they commenced their drinking as they surveyed the movements of the patrons and crew interacting with one another.

Beckman raised his tankard to his lips and begin to gulp with gusto at the frothing liquid. He trailed his eyes throughout the bar as he did so; looking to Limejuice as he grit his teeth tightly at the blonde woman’s incessant and unrelenting flirtation was thrust upon him.

He continued his assessment of the room before his attention was caught by a group of sailors laughing amongst each other, a woman throwing her had back at the joke uttered by one among them. Benn Beckman spluttered into his tankard, coughing as the amber ale entered into his wind pipe and corrupted his lungs with it. He continued to draw in his breaths while maintaining visual contact on the situation unfolding before him.

“Benn,” Shanks addressed his choking crewman, “you alright?”

The First-Mate continued coughing and spluttering, managing to relieve his lungs of the bitter substance and gasping in a long breath. His pigment all but fled from his face as he continued staring blankly at the bar in horror.

“You look as if you’ve seen a ghost,” Shanks laughed, placing his tankard down on the table before clapping a hand against the upper arm of Beckman’s shoulder.

“I-I think I have,” Beckman stuttered slightly before bringing his attention to his captain, “look to the bar and tell me if you can see her too, Captain.”

Shanks furrowed his brows in confusion, laughing lightly at the confession of his crewman before turning and immediately having the playful expression pulled from his lips.

“You see her?” Beckman asked him in a voice just above a whisper.

The Captain wordlessly rose to his feet, almost toppling the stool over in the process as he made his way to approach the woman. His bride, his queen. His whole world was carelessly and unaware of his presence as the melodical laugh fell from her lips; a sound Shanks never thought he would once again experience.

------------------

You tapped the chest of the older sailor in front of you as you continued to laugh at his joke.

“Harold,” you gasped, wiping a tear from your eye, “and that’s the reason you only have three toes on your left foot?”

“Honest to goodness, lass,” he continued to rumble laughter, his eyes twinkling with utter mischievousness, “the bloody crab nearly carved the whole lot off, if not for my quick thinking!”

He imitated the pinching movements of a crab’s claw and crooked his head to make himself look as crab-like as he could, prompting another roar of laughter to erupt between the sailors and yourself.

“Alright, I’ll get you that drink then,” you teetered your laughter and turned to address the bartender you had come to know, “Mary, give us a couple schooners of ale- the pale stuff if you wouldn’t mind.”

“Right you are, my love,” she acknowledged your order and began pouring the foamed liquid into two smaller cups.

It had been ten years since you found yourself lying upon the shore with no recollection of who or what you were before your arrival. Thankfully enough, your body was strong. You knew how to hold your own when it came to unwarranted and unreciprocated attention, often brawling with men to assert yourself among them.

As you needed a job to afford food, you managed to bully Captain Harold of the Angelfish Shepherds Fishing Crew and would accompany them out to sea, bringing in several catches a day and selling their many items throughout town. It was only when the sun would disappear behind the horizon, you would come home to the tavern: "Mary’s Resting Track" and make yourself comfortable with your crew at the bar; drinking well into the night.

Just as Mary had finished pouring from the keg, you felt an arm placed upon your left shoulder, prompting you to turn to face it's source.

“My bride,” a tall, red-headed man gasped in a voice above a whisper as he drew you in to place his lips against yours. You squealed at the tender impact, a smile pulling at the corner of your mouth at the sudden softness and passion you felt from the unknown man. You pushed on his chest slightly before creasing your brows in confusion.

“Steady on, Sailor. Save it for your wife,” you laughed at him, collecting the two schooners from the bar and placing one into the hands of Captain Harold, “or at least buy me a drink first!”

You laughed, prompting your crew to do the same as they raised their glasses and took a drink. You rose yours to your lips and drank from it, keeping playful eye contact with the sailor before you.

He was handsome, his red hair immediately drawing you in. He had a black cloak shrouding his left arm from view and a three-point claw mark over his left eye. His face held a shocked, sobering expression on it as if he was staring at something extra-terrestrial in make.

“Y-You,” he stuttered out, “Y-You’re.”

The words caught in his throat as he again reached his right hand up to attempt to secure a fallen strand of your hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear. You swatted his hand away from completing the action.

“No,” you said firmly, playfulness leaving your face as your eyebrows collected themselves with a frown, “no one touches my hair. It’s out of bounds to even those who know me, and know me; you do not.”

You swiped his arm away fully away from your face while keeping a warning, reprimanding look on your features. He continued to stare at you, his eyes swelling slightly as they fluttered between your own; pleading with you and searching within them for a small shroud of recognition.

“She’s saving it for her beloved,” your crewman mocked you in a high-pitched tone, bringing humour once again to the room. You laughed at his jest, prompting you to turn away from the red head to scold his imitation.

“I don’t sound like that,” you laughed at him, prompting your crewman to again mock you by wobbling his head from side to side and scrunching up his face.

You turned back around to see the man again gazing with a fierce intensity born deeply into your eyes and managed this time to tuck a strand of your hair behind your left ear with his right hand. At this, you brought your own hand firmly up and struck the side of his face, all humour once again leaving you.

At the crisp strike, chaos erupted at the bar. A crew of pirates drew their pistols, pointing it towards you; while your crew of sailors pulled their own from their belt and aimed it at them in response. You kept your eyes completely fixed on the red-haired pirate as his face continued to hold a yearning expression.

“She gave you a warning, Sailor,” your Captain spat at him, “I don’t care how much ale you consumed, you respect the wishes of a lady.”

This seemed to shatter whatever illusion was held on the redhead in front of you as he looked to the assortment of pirates behind him. He held up his hands in defence of himself, taking a step back from his proximity near you and nodding his head in a deep bow.

“Easy, lads,” he smiled, “put them away. We don’t bring out our guns at one little slap.”

The crew focussed their attention on you as you shook your head and creased your brows at his address. He again turned to you, and bowed his head slightly deeper as an apology.

“You’ll have to excuse me, miss,” he uttered, “I didn’t mean to cross your boundary. It was reactionary, and for that I offer my most sincere apologies.”

Your gaze softened at his words as you gently used your pointer finger to raise his chin to look at you once more.

“Apology accepted on the condition of buying me and my friends a round of drinks,” you scrunched your nose with a small wink. He laughed at your remark, shaking his head and smiling once more.

“I would have to agree, miss. Definitely the next one on me,” he continued to gaze into your eyes as you withdrew your finger from his chin and tapped his nose with it playfully.

-----------------

You didn’t remember him. That must be the only reason you didn’t hoist yourself into his single arm and cling yourself against him. Why you didn’t lean into the kiss and allow him to lace his hand into your hair and relieve your face from it shrouding your vision. The act so intimately solidifying your relationship in the early days, holding onto it as you spoke your wedding vows.

No-one was to ever touch your hair apart from yourself and your beloved were the words you spoke while dressed in your white, lace dress aboard the Red Force; Beckman performing the ceremony all those years ago.

You were married in your youth, relationship blossoming from friendship to something more on the Oro Jackson under the watchful gaze of Gol D. Roger. The subtle glances turned into subtle touches, turning into kisses stolen from within the hidden halls of the Oro Jackson as you would press each other against the walls and roam your hands along your bodies.

He was obsessed with your hair, and with each caress, each embrace, he would find himself absent-mindedly playing with it. You vowed alongside your commitment in matrimony that only he and he alone would be allowed to tuck your hair behind your ear in adoration; and you be the only one permitted to place a kiss atop the crown of his head.

Shanks had to contain himself as his soul screamed within the chasms of his chest to embrace you, to hold you against him and cry out in joy at your return. He didn’t touch another woman in the ten long years it had been since your last departure; the notion turning to ash in his mouth at the mere suggestion. It had only been until recently that Beckman prompted him to seek out someone to relieve his tension, but he felt it would’ve been an insult to the beautiful memories you shared with one another.

You were even in the process of early conversations on what starting a family would look like aboard the Red Force with his assortment of rowdy crew.

You would bicker at having the ship make birth permanently at a port, returning every two weeks to the solid shore as Shanks refused to halt his travels. He wanted you and the children aboard, rearing them alongside his crew; an idea you immediately shot down as you understood infants waking and crying at every interval and the disruption would not be fair to bring to the crew.

Shanks remembered Beckman adding to that conversation with: “We’re already getting sleepless nights from the sounds echoing the halls originating at your quarters!”

He chuckled at the memory before he remembered the fear on your face as the storm threw you overboard in your attempt to raise the sheet from the topmast and secure it in place. The black sky and torrential winds making it impossible to see your form as you struggled against the waves. He didn’t see what happened, only noticing your departure once they successfully made it through the storm and into the central eye of it.

The roar-like scream rumbling throughout the chest of the Red-Haired Captain still reverberating within the ears and memories of the entire crew as they recollect it every year. The pain shared amongst them as their captain bore his grief openly; drowning in rum every night before Beckman pulled him out of his rut with the reprimand: “this is not what she would have wanted.”

It mattered not what happened to him from that point. The pain of loosing you was far greater than any earthly injury could bring forth. He didn’t even bat an eye as his arm was claimed by a great Sea-Beast; consuming his flesh within it’s belly. He was more upset by the fact his golden wedding band perished at its disappearance.

And here you were, not a scratch upon you; laughing as if you had not a care in the world.

You had no memory. That was the only explanation Shanks had as he gazed lovingly at you, drinking your free ale at his expense.

----------------

You shook your head at a comment made by one of your crewmen as they suggested to hold a drinking competition between the red-haired pirate’s crew and your own.

“I don’t think I have enough booze in the house for that,” Mary laughed from behind the bar.

You smiled at her comment, turning back around to see the far off look in the red-head’s eyes.

“You know,” you nudged him with your shoulder, bringing his attention back towards you, “for someone that leads in lips first, you’re awfully quiet.”

He chuckled at your comment, expression softening but with a hidden depth you couldn’t quite understand.

“I’m not usually like this,” he scrunched his nose up with a smile.

“Rough time at sea, then?” you asked him, gesturing to Mary with two fingers to indicate your intentions of purchasing the next round for you and the red-head.

“Not particularly, its just-,” his words trailed off, prompting you to gaze your eyes; flittering them between his own two deep brown orbs before he took a deep breath and looked forward at his crew interacting with your own.

“You gestured for the good stuff, right?” she asked, placing two short, round glasses down on the counter; spiced rum swishing in the base as she did so.

“That I did, love,” you replied, placing down your berry on the counter and taking the glasses from it. You went to place the glass into the red-head Captain’s hands, noticing it was already occupied with a half-drunk tankard of ale.

“You keen on a rum?” you asked him, bringing his gaze up. He gasped out a quick hum, raising the tankard and downing the remainder of his ale with haste and placing the empty vessel atop the bar. He rose his hand to accept your offer and his fingers brushed against your own as he claimed the drink from your hand.

He looked down to your collar bone and noticed a single gold ring hung from a piece of fine leather around it. He furrowed his brows at it as to inspect it from his great distance.

“The gold band around your neck,” he gestured down to your left hand, “are you married?”

“Not to my knowledge, Sailor,” you laughed at him, “I was found with it.”

You sipped at the rum and creased your brows as the heavy alcohol entered your system.

“I apologise for slapping you,” you uttered, “I, uh. I made a promise, you see. I don’t really know what about or to whom, truthfully.”

He hummed at your comment, fixing his eyes on your face as you spoke. He trailed his eyes over your body, looking at you with an expression completely unreadable. Somewhere between: bewildered, surprised, great sorrow, relief, curiosity and apprehension.

“I don’t actually have a lot of that – knowledge, I mean,” you reiterated with a smile, “For the better part of ten years, I’ve been building back what I think I used to be like. I have no idea, though. I could’ve been some prissy young lass with a string of twelve children; or some standoffish, uptight cow-.”

“-You were never like that,” the red-head interrupted you, prompting you to snap your gaze up to meet with his.

“Do you know me, Sailor?” you asked him, your brows creasing together.

“Shanks,” he corrected you, “my name is Shanks.”

“Alright, Shanks,” you corrected yourself, “Do you know me?”

He sighed, drinking a small amount of liquid from his glass and looking to the rowdy crowd as their boisterous laughter echoed throughout the walls.

“If you want to talk about it, I’m going to need two things,” he said, downing the remainder of alcohol from his glass in one quick swell, “another drink, preferably a bottle this time.”

You laughed at him, before asking; “and the other thing?”

“Privacy,” he uttered with a small hint of sadness. You expressed concern within your eyes before patting him on the back and rubbing small circles in comfort to him.

You weren’t sure why you brought your hand up to comfort him, it seemed almost reactionary. A natural instinct of familiarity; organic.

“Alright, Shanks,” you began, making eye contact with Mary once more, “I’ll buy you a bottle under one condition.”

“And what might that be?” he chuckled warmly.

“That you give me a small glint of information before we proceed to the beach,” Mary placed the bottle on the counter and you placed down more berry in response, “I need to know if you are threatening me with a good time, or if you plan on executing me to reclaim some debt.”

“Were we enemies?” you asked him, bearing your gaze at the wall behind the bar.

“Sometimes,” Shanks shrugged his shoulders, prompting you to snap your gaze back to his. He erupted a full belly laugh from his diaphragm at your reaction. He let out a deep sigh before he suggested; “let’s make to the beach and I’ll fill you in.”

Mary smiled, looking between the two of you before the beckoning of Captain Harold and several bottles of the cheapest rum called her from her place before you.

You nodded, neglecting to collect glassware while you grasped the neck of the bottle; not once removing your eyes from the red-head next to you.

You made your way down towards the beach, walking in step with Captain Shanks, as the crew bid him goodnight. You noticed several members of his crew gawked at you as if they had seen a phantom or something of the make.

Once gazing into the open sea, the Captain plonked himself unceremoniously on the sand, legs spread wide as he sat with his knees bent upwards. You smiled at him before crouching down to sit beside him, uncorking the fresh rum bottle in your hands and offering it to him. He smiled as he took it from your grasp and brought it to his lips.

You trailed your eyes over his form, trying to conjure a whisp of memory from the recesses of your mind. After having no image return to you, you rose up your voice.

“So-,” you began, only to be cut off my Shanks.

“You were – are,” he started to relay, laughing at the fact he spoke over you. You nodded to him to continue.

He paused, sighing before again voicing what he was attempting to confess to you.

“It’s been ten years to the day since I lost you,” he sighed, looking down to the sand near his knees, “and not a day went by that my thoughts were not drawn to you.”

You looked at him, puzzled at what he was telling you.

“Your gold band,” he gestured with his hand towards your neck grasping the bottle, keeping his eyes fixed on the sand below him, “was gifted to us by our former Captain we served under: Gol D. Roger. He had a lot of love for you and I.”

“The King of the Pirates?” you asked him, eyes wide before adding, “and us. What do you mean, us?”

He sighed again, this time bringing his head to slouch back as he gazed at the dark and cloudless sky above you.

“I can’t tell you what happened right now. It’s-,” he paused between the words, prompting you to inch forward and look at his face. He turned his face away from you as you attempted to gaze into his eyes; “-it’s too painful today.”

You frowned and instead reached down to the hand placed upon his hand, and swiftly reclaimed the rum bottle from within his grip. He turned his head towards you at this and trailed his eyes up to yours as you placed the lip of the bottle and downed two large gulps of the liquid. You squeezed your eyes as the strong alcohol burned its way down your throat and into the pit of your belly.

He laughed at your actions, finally the forlorn expression eclipsed by glee.

“You haven’t changed,” he uttered, reaching his hand up to your hair before recoiling it back again. You watched him do this, as processing the boundary you expressed earlier still lingered within his thoughts. Instead of reaching your hair with his hand, he fell his grasp to your hands as they held the rum bottle.

“Is there truly nothing you remember of me?” He asked you, looking down to where his single hand rested upon your own. You furrow your brows and search your mind through closed eyes, willing yourself to remember any aspect about him. You hissed out a growl in frustration as you found no recollection.

“I want to,” you whispered to him, “you seem a decent kind of man, if not a little forward with the kiss and all.”

He chuckled at your comment, his laughter building to a rumble. His shoulders began to quake lightly as his laughter died and morphed into soft sobs. He attempted to conceal them from you by raising his hand up from where it rested atop his knee and turned to face away from you. You were overwhelmed slightly by this man becoming wrecked with emotion.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered to him, bringing yourself to rest on your knees as you pulled yourself closer to him.

You opened your arms and shimmied your legs forward, hoisting them over his bent knees and found a comfortable spot on the sand to rest between them. Your arms circled his shoulders as you felt his right arm wrap beneath your waist and hook up your spine. He held his face flush with your stomach and squeezed his hand to grasp at your body as if you were to slip away at any moment. You felt his shoulders begin to relax into your embrace while inhaling your scent. You looked down the top of his head before absentmindedly bringing your lips down to place a chaste kiss against his hair. He flinched slightly at this impact, tension building in his shoulders before he slumped them forward.

You heard him sigh into your diaphragm as you did so, bringing his face away from its hidden position against you and resting his chin atop your chest to bring his sights to look up at you. For some reason, this man as he held you in an intimate proximity did not have you thrusting him away from your with excessive force as you did with so many others.

You unwrapped your left hand from around his shoulders and set it against his cheek. His youthful smile returning as you caressed him. You warmly smiled in response, feeling the gruff of his stubble against the palm of your hand before he turned his head and placed a brief kiss atop your inner hand.

“I am willing to dedicate the rest of my life to getting you to fall in love with me once again,” he whispered against your hand before turning his head to meet your gaze, “this I swear.”

Your eyes widened at the comment with a small smile toying at your mouth.

“I gather my undying devotion is overwhelming for you,” he chuckled, prompting you to move your hand away from his face and place both hands atop his shoulders.

“It is, to be perfectly candid with you,” you giggled at him, smoothing your arms over his shoulders and tracing circles against them with your thumbs, “I have tried everything to bring a small fragment of the person I once was to the forefront of my being.”

He trailed his hand from its place at the small of your back and rested it atop your left hip, grasping it firmly within his palm and kneading the flesh beneath it.

You brought your attention to the gold ring on your leather necklace as you held onto his shoulder, narrowing your eyes at the metal slightly; pleading within your own mind to bring forth any memory of the man cradling himself against you.

“To put myself in your hideous sandals,” you uttered, prompting him to quirk his head slightly to the side, “you found me, and it’s almost as if you did so only to lose me again.”

“Aye, it is,” he nodded, looking down again and meeting his eyes with the flesh of your forearm. He ghosted his lips over your left arm, dragging it higher within the crook of your elbow. Your hair follicles stood on edge under his ministrations, as he continued to not kiss your skin; but rather feel the way your body tasted below his lips.

“And you looked lovely in my highly practical sandals, last time you wore them,” he smirked his lips against your flesh before placing a kiss against it. He trailed kisses varying in intensity back down your forearm and against your wrist, prompting your breath to hitch in your throat.

That comment was it. After a variety of interpersonal and intimate words shared regarding your prior relationship with the man beneath you; it was the ugly sandals that brought a flitter of memory to grace behind your eyes. Any other comment; the hand in your hair from earlier, the wedding ring gifted by Gol D. Roger before he was executed, anything else; it was the ugly sandals he found in the run of the mill town that he purchased and, much to your horror, wore in public.

You remember taking them from his room and fleeing above deck with them in an attempt to throw them overboard to rid yourself of their ugliness forever, only to have your waist caught by your husband as he twirled you around to face the deck again with playful reprimand in the process of doing so.

At the request of your husband, you placed them on your feet and experienced the absolute comfort they bore you; almost shrieking in disgust at yourself for relishing in the feeling; as he belly-laughed at you.

“We’ll get you some at the next port” you heard his voice within your mind, “then we can be matching.”

You remembered him wiggling his eyebrows, prompting you to place your closed fist against his chest and tap him slightly.

“We can even get tiny little ones for when you relent and let me put a child in you,” you remembered his tone, causing a blush to rise presently to your cheeks.

“Something the matter, love?” Shanks' voice brought you from your singular memory and back into the present moment you were sharing so intimately with your husband.

No other memory sprang forward, only a few whispers of certain smells: sea water, spiced rum and stagnant drinking water with the natural smell men aboard a boat. You circled your arms around his shoulders and again pressed him against yourself, smothering his face against your sternum between your breasts. Your mouth fell slack as you pressed your face into his hair and inhaled the aroma of the fragrance he favoured to utilise in his red locks: sandalwood and ginger prominent with his natural scent lingering beneath it.

You began to feel a rough flurry of taps from the man beneath you as he indicated for you to release him. His laughter was unrestrained as his eyes twinkled with mischievousness.

“As happy as I am to once again have my face pressed between your breasts,” he heaved his laughter, “I do require air to sustain me.”

He brought his eyes to meet yours as you stared your eyes on the crashing waves of the beach as the tide began to come in further. Your eyes remained wide as you continued to will a semblance of recollection to come to you.

Once you offered no rebuttal at his comment, he again reached his hand up towards your hair only to halt it once more.

“What is it?” he asked you, now placing his right hand atop your left arm, holding it lovingly.

“I-,” you began, the words now halting between your lips. You brought your eyes down to look down and you continued to flitter them between each of his own.

“I-,” you again said, leaning in closer to him; prompting him to have a sense of seriousness overcome his features, “-will never own a pair of those ugly sandals.”

Immediately his seriousness fell away and his face split into a wide grin as his laughter rumbled within his chest one more.

“Yes, you always hated them. I think they’re wonderful,” he gasped while stifling his laughter. You continued to hold his shoulders as his laughter teetered off into a dull rumble.

“I tried to throw them overboard,” you uttered almost inaudibly, “and you threatened me with buying more of them.”

“You remember,” he gasped out a breathy sigh, “you remember me.”

He brought his torso up further to bring your foreheads to rest against each other. He nuzzled your nose slightly at the impact and squeezed his eyes shut with delight. He began to lean in to graze your lips with his, only to be halted by your gentle touch to bring him back.

“I don’t remember anything else aside from your disgusting sandals,” you whispered, closing your eyes before reopening them again and looking at him half-lidded, “and the way you looked at me when you suggested we begin trying for a child.”

A small gasp left his lips as a single tear fell from his right eye. Immediately he pulled your head against his further, seeking out your lips with his own. He moved his hand from its place at your hip to snake around your waist and hold you firmly against his lap. You felt him moan against your lips as you reciprocated his enthusiasm by lacing your fingers into his hair and tugging lightly at the new growth at the back of his neck.

As your proximity was so flush against one another, you had no choice but to press your full weight against him as he laid with his back against the sand; his hair sprawling out atop the course surface. He expertly maneuvered his right leg beneath yours without breaking the kiss, gasping into it as he darted his tongue out to meet with your own.

A soft whimper flung itself from your lips as he relentlessly attacked your mouth with his own; flittering deep and hungry kisses while trying to taste as much of you as he could with his tongue. You unlaced your fingers from his hair and raked them down his shoulders to his chest, massaging the hard muscle beneath them as you continued in your exploration. He gently rose his hand from its place around your waist and drew itself beneath your shirt and groaned when he felt your tender flesh beneath the material.

Placing your right hand below his cloak, you raked your fingers further along his ribcage and drew them up towards his left arm – halting your movement as you found none residing there.

You squealed into his mouth, feeling him smirk against your lips. You attempted to break from the kiss, only to feel his hand climb higher beneath your blouse and lie flat against your spine between your shoulder blades and continue passionately exploring your lips.

“Shanks,” you murmured a warning reprimand against his lips. He smiled while maintaining his lips against your own, feeling the soft pearls of his teeth as they made contact with your mouth. He continued to chase your lips each time you attempted to flee from his embrace.

You brought your hands up to ball the material of his white shirt within your fists and held him further against yourself, prompting him to let down his guard as he whimpered into your lips at your sudden domination. As soon as you felt him relinquish a small spectrum of control, you pushed hard on his collar bones and pried him from your lips. He first groaned in frustration before his body was wracked with uncontrollable laughter. He collapsed against the ground, prompting you to roll your body from above him to onto your own back in the sand as his laughter became contagious.

And as earlier, the heaving of your shoulders in fits of laughter evolved into heavy sobs from the both of you as you mourned the time lost between you.

“My bride,” Shanks called from beside you as he placed his right hand upon his eyes in an attempt to control his emotions.

“Yes, my groom,” you said as more of a whimper than an address.

He rolled over onto his side and hovered his face above yours, as the tears freely fell down the faces of the two of you; the moonlight cascading over your lover’s hair. Hesitantly, he reached his right hand up to your hair and slowly brought some loose strands from your face and wove it behind your ear. He sighed in relief as he watched you close your eyes and lean into his touch, taking your quivering lip between your teeth as you did so.

“You are as beautiful as the day I lost you,” he whispered with a slight hitch of his voice. You reopened your eyes to watch him smiling through his sorrow. You returned his expression and caressed his chest and ghosting your fingertips over his left shoulder.

“And you are one arm less than I remember,” you beamed a wide smile and giggled a little at your prod. He joined you in your laughter and pressed a chaste kiss against your hair before rising to his feet and offering you his right hand to hoist you up to meet him. You took his hand and allowed him to hoist you to your feet, before he dipped his shoulder down to make contact with your waist and lifted you over his right shoulder. He secured you in place with a crisp slap upon your left ass-cheek as he effortlessly crouched down to retrieve the forgotten, half-drunk rum bottle. He rose again to his feet and began to walk with you over his shoulder, using his teeth to uncork the rum bottle and spitting it against the sand.

“Is this quite necessary?” you asked him, mock annoyance in your tone.

He laughed and took a long swig from the rum bottle and gasped in joy as the liquid burnt its way down his throat.

“Not only is it necessary,” he called to you over his left shoulder, “it is also compulsory.” You laughed at him as he almost jigged back towards the tavern, him joining you in your laughter upon arriving at its steps and flinging open the door with his feet.

The arrival of the two of you had cheers erupting and reverberating from every corner and crevasse of the wooden building. Tankards were thrust into the air, foam sloshing carelessly from the top and onto the floor; much to the many protestations of Mary.

Shanks placed you on the floor after setting aside the bottle of rum atop a cylindrical raised bar table.

“Alright lads,” he addressed the room, “let me reintroduce you to my wife!”

He extended his right hand out for you to place your left hand within. As soon as you did so, he effortlessly spun you into him, your left arm laced over your front as he cradled you against himself.

You looked up to his face, your neck laying against his shoulder as he brought his lips down to meet your own for the first time publicly in a decade. Applause, shouts of glee and delight, more sloshing of ale and verbal reprimands from the tavern keeper echoed the hall as you smiled against the lips of your beloved. Your husband, and his bride.

#one piece #opla #x reader #shanks opla #shanks x reader #red haired shanks #shanks #one piece live action #opla fic #amnesia trope #my playlist broke me #angst #angst with a happy ending

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axelsagewrites · 1 year

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Hii, I had a request...Robb and Jon having a crush on the same girl, maybe she could be the Bannerman daughter or something, just lots of teasing and rivalry and angst :)

Robb Stark and Jon Snow*Share

Pairing: Jon x f!reader, Robb x f!reader

Platonic: Sansa x reader

Word count: 3975

This is part one. Part two will be the smut.... (this was just too long to make into one part)

Masterlist Here

A/N: This is set with Sansa as being 15 and Robb, Jon, and the reader being 18. We’re also gonna pretend Westeros is still in a chill time with King Robert drinking away their money with Ned still alive and safe in Winterfell.

Robb and Jon were used to random Lords and Ladies staying at Winterfell for periods of time but when they saw their newest guest both had the same though. Gods she’s pretty. Your family where Bannerman’s of House Stark, ever loyal to Lord Eddard. Sansa had recently started whining, much to her brother’s dismay since it was all she talked about, that she had no need to be cared for by Septas or wet nurses any longer. She was determined she was old enough to not need to be constantly watched. However, when Catelyn suggested a lady in waiting Sansa jumped at the idea.

This was how you now stood in the courtyard at Winterfell, preparing to start your new journey. It was an honour for your house when you got the raven. Sansa was slightly younger than you, but you had remembered meeting her before at feasts and balls. You had also met Robb and Jon at these events but neither one had taken notice of you till now.

Robb slapped Jons shoulder to get his attention when he noticed you climbing out your carriage. “Is that (Y/N)?” he asked his half brother who looked up from where he was plucking arrows out the target he had just been practising with.

Jons eyebrows scrunched as he looked at the now woman who climbed out the carriage, “She did not look like that last time,” he said with a low voice.

“Tell me about it. Wait is she Sansa’s lady in waiting then?” he said, eyes not leaving the lady who was now being greeted in a hug by his mother.

“Your mother told us that last night,” Jon said rolling his eyes before glancing at the woman who was now merrily chatting with his half-sister, “Do you ever pay attention?”

“Not really,” Robb said with a chuckle as he took the bow from Jon, “Maybe I should from now on,” he joked. Robb did not attempt to hide his glances like Jon did. After all Jon was a bastard whereas Robb was used to the attention of the Northern ladies. However, this one had yet to look at either boy. “C’mon give me some arrows,” Robb said

“You hate archery,” Jon said despite handing him one of the arrows he had just plucked from the target. He moved back to allow Robb to line himself up with the target but couldn’t help noticing the glances he kept firing at (Y/N) while he began to load the bow. “Oh, gods you’re trying to woo her with your shit archery?” Jon smirked at his half-brother.

Robb shot Jon a glare, “Will you shut it?” he hissed glancing over to see if she had heard, which of course she had not, “Besides im not shit,”

“You’re not good,”

“Fuck you,”

“No thanks,”

“Fuck off Snow,”

Their scawbling however did get them noticed “Boys!” Catelyn called across the courtyard with a sharp look before turning back to the girls.

While Jon smirked Robb had noticed you looking over at him, a faint smile ghosting your lips that made him even more determined to show Jon he was wrong. Robbs eyes kept flickering back to you as he knocked his arrow and drew the string back. He enjoyed the feeling of your eyes on him as he did so. He finally turned his attention to the target. Taking a deep breath and rolling his shoulders back, he lined up his shot, breathed in then. Release.

The arrow hit the second inner ring of the target. Robb grinned to himself, knowing secretly that Jon was right about his shooting skills. But when he looked back, he realised you were no longer there. He sighed but when Jon began to laugh, he felt his skin grow hot. “Fuck up,” he said, shoving the bow back into Jons hands.

“You tried to woo her with archery, and she didn’t even stay to watch,” Jon couldn’t control his laughter. He had noticed you walking away as soon as Robb turned his attention to the target but did not say anything as he wanted to enjoy the view of you undisturbed. The bonus was of course his brother’s ego being knocked off its high horse.

“Please like you could do any better,” Robb grumbled as he retrieved the arrow.

“I could,” Jon said, chest puffed, and shoulders raised, “Girls like me,”

“What girls?” It was Robbs turn to laugh, “I can’t even imagine you flirting,”

“You tried to flirt with an arrow,” Jon shot back.

Robb rolled his eyes, “Mate trust me,” Robb said, putting a hand on Jons shoulder which he quickly shrugged off, “She likes me,”

“She’s been here for two minutes,” Jon rolled his eyes.

“We’ll see,”

“Yeah. We will,”

“Fine,”

“Good,”

“Whatever,”

Theon walked over to the bickering duo, “What are you two on about now?”

“Nothing,” The brothers said in unison before storming off in separate directions.

----

What did Robb know about girls anyway? Jon wondered as he walked the halls of Winterfell. Sure, he had girls’ attention because of his position but that doesn’t count. Besides Jon knew how to flirt. All be it he didn’t do it very often, but he was sure in theory he would do just fine. Why did Robb deserve you more than him anyway?

His mind soon went from frustration to thinking of you and suddenly his problems began to melt away. When he had noticed you, it was like all the air had been knocked out his lungs. Out of all the ladies he had seen you were by far the prettiest. The wide smile you wore when greeting his sister had warmed his heart from all the Norths cold. All he had been able to see was your hair and face due to the large clock you had been wearing but as his mind wandered, he couldn’t help but wondering what you looked like beneath it.

Jon was quickly snapped out his thoughts when he felt someone clash against his chest. His arm shoots out to grab the persons arm to steady them. “Apologies my- “Jon looked up to the person he had literally ran into and he felt his cheeks flush. “My lady I did not see you,” he stuttered, eyes flickering away from you in embarrassment.

“Jon?” You asked and he could hear the smile in your voice, “I hardly recognised you. It has been so long,” Jon couldn’t help the smile that spread on his face when he saw your wide grin. “You’ve grown,”

“As have you,” he said before his face fell, “not like that well like not in a bad way my lady- “

“It’s okay,” you laughed, “I know what you mean Jon. You have never been anything kind to me,”

Jon cleared his throat as he tried to stand tall, pretending he hadn’t made a complete arse of himself in front of you, “Are you off anywhere particular this evening my lady?”

“So formal,” you laughed hitting your shoulder as you continued your walk, Jon quickly turning to follow, “I was going to sneak to the kitchens to try squeeze a snack in before dinner. Mother forgot to pack us any food for our travels,”

“You don’t have to sneak my lady. You are a guest im sure lord stark would be more than happy to see you fed,”

“But is it not so much more fun this way?” you said in a low teasing voice, “I remember how we used to sneak away with Robb during feasts. Don’t act like you don’t like it this way,” Jon blushed at your words as a completely different potential scenario flashed across his mind, “Perhaps you could escort me to the kitchens?” your voice snapped him back to reality.

Jon cleared his throat, “Of course my lady,” Jon said as he took your arm you had outstretched to him.

You rolled your eyes as your arms linked, “You don’t need to be so formal Jon. No ones listening anyway. Besides we have so much caught up to do,” Jon had almost forgotten how chatty you had been but was glad to see the quality had not gone away.

Jon laughed along in your conversation, and grinned when his own jokes made loud laughs come from your mouth. Within minutes he was already so comfortable beside you like he had spent a lifetime by your side. However what Jon hadn’t noticed was Robb Starks icy glare when he spotted the two sneaking down the kitchen stairway.

---

When dinner time had rolled around you were informed by Sansa you would be joining the Starks at their table, which you found out included Jon which you were secretly pleased about. When you walked in the room the only ones at the table were Catelyn and Robb who grinned when you entered. You tried to hide your blush when you noticed his perfect smile. Robb had also changed from when you last saw him, and he had grown at least a head in height.

At both ends of the table sat a larger chair, one of which Catelyn was currently occupying. Three chairs ran down one side of the table, four on the other. Robb sat beside his mother on the side with three chairs, leaving two left. “Lady (y/n),” he greeted when you entered, “I hadn’t known you were joining us my lady,” he had. He had asked his mother who shot him a silent questioning look, “Allow me,” he said as he pulled the chair next to him out for you.

You laughed lightly as you took your seat, Robb pushing it in for you with a smile before taking his own chair. Sansa rolled her eyes at her brothers’ antics as she sat beside you, “She’s my friend not yours,” she grumbled.

“Sansa!” Catelyn said sharply, “She is our guest as much as she is your lady,” you did your best to not laugh but a small smile graced your lips, “Sorry about that (Y/N),” she said with a sorry smile.

“Its okay Lady Catelyn,” you said.

“Call me Cat,” she said with a smile, but the conversation was interrupted as the youngest three Starks sprinted into the room. “Behave you lot,” Cat said as she helped the youngest Rickon into the chair beside her. Bran and Arya took the two closest chairs to the empty one at the head of the table, leaving the one across from you free. Robb mentally scowled at his siblings but figured sitting beside you had the far superior advantage.

When Jon arrived, their father was with him and as the two took their seats the food was brought out. The way you and Jon smiled at each other made Robb wanna roll his eyes, but he resisted as he acted the perfect gentleman. As dinner went on Sansa kept stealing your attention which Robb figured was at least better than Jon doing so. He thought he would never get to talk to you.

Until that is you turned to him, “Don’t you think so too Robb?” your voice brought him back from his daydreaming about you. he hummed in response as he came out his daze, “I was saying to Sansa how she should go horse riding more often. Riding can be so thrilling after all,” Robb tried not to blush when he thought of what he would rather you be riding. “You do still enjoy horse riding?” you said with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh yeah of course,” he said quickly, “Sorry my mind has been preoccupied lately,” he said causing Jon to roll his eyes, “but Sansa trust her there are few things better than it. (Y/N) always knew how to have fun,” he said with a smile which made you blush and quickly turn to face Sansa, but Robb had saw it. he looked at Jon with a slight smirk which only made the boy roll his eyes and look away. When Robb heard Sansa and you discussing plans to go riding tomorrow, he had a plan.

-----

Robb wasn’t being weird by being close by the stables around the time he knew you would be coming by. He just was tending to his own horse. Definitely of course, a complete accident that he was there when you appeared with Sansa in tow laughing about something. “Robb,” you exclaimed when you noticed him, “Are you joining us?” you said glancing at Sansa.

Sansa quickly shook her head saying a firm no. Robb rolled his eyes at his little sister, “I was just tending to my horse my lady,”

“That’s sweet,” you said as Sansa went off to retrieve her mother’s horse which she had said she could borrow before they decided to get her one of her own, “So many lords just toss their reigns aside when they’re done,”

Robb chuckled as he stepped away from his horse and followed you to yours, “Do you ride often my lady?”

“I try to at least go a few times a week,” you said as you took you went to saddle your horse only for Robb to step in.

“Allow me,” he said as he readied your horse for you.

You laughed gently, stepping back to allow him to do so, “Thanks Robbie,” you said as he did up the leather and clasped.

Robb couldn’t help his blush at the nickname you had been using with him since childhood, “Its no problem,” he assured before stepping back from the horse, “That’s you all set,”

“Help me up?” you asked as you stepped closer to the horse. Robb couldn’t help but notice your slight smirk when you had asked and with a quick inhale and a sudden wave of confidence, he stepped forward to pick you up by your hips and place you on your horse. You giggled as he did so and quickly steady yourself on the saddle, “I didn’t realise how strong you had got,”

Robb grinned at your comment, “Thank you my lady. Sometimes I don’t notice my own strength,”

“Then I feel bad for whoever ends up at the other end of your sword,” you laughed.

“You should watch me practise someday,” Robb said, “I do almost everyday at the training grounds,”

“I’ll have to stop by sometime,” you smiled down at him as Sansa trotted over on her horse. “Ready?” you asked the girl.

“I am if you stop flirting with my brother,” she smirked before riding out of the stable. Robb would’ve been embarrassed if he had not seen how your face had flushed and how you quickly rode after her. wait till Jon heard what you had been saying.

----

“You can’t just grab a ladies’ hips,” Jon said, wide eyed. The pair were in the training yard getting ready to practise some sparring.

Robb smirked, “Really? Cause I did,” he said as he grabbed his practise sword off the rack, “Good hips by the way,” Jon rolled his eyes at his brothers’ antics, “You’re just mad that she likes me,”

“Maybe she was blushing because she was so embarrassed at the idea of flirting with you,” Jon said making Robb grumble, “At least she thinks im funny,” he added while he took his stance across from Robb.

Robb struck first. “Funny looking,” he said as their swords clashed.

“Fuck up,” he snapped, and Robb grinned. The grin fell when Jon took his own strike, quicker than Robb and harder too, “Are you really gonna let a girl come between us?”

As soon as Robb caught up to his brother’s speed, he replied, “If you won’t admit she likes me and not you then yeah,” Robb smirked only making his brother groan and knock Robb hard enough to drop his sword.

Robb cursed under his breath as he picked it up and took stance again. However, as he was doing this Robb happened to notice a certain someone walking into the training yard, arms linked with his sister. Robbs jaw almost dropped as he saw the new dress you must have recently made that was far more form showing than any of your other cloaks had been. He could see your curves even under the thick fabric and it made him strike his next blow even harder.

Jon was almost caught off guard at his brother’s seriousness however he had sparred with Robb long enough to know he only fought like this when he was angry. While he didn’t see the anger in his eyes, he knew how he would mess up. Jon only had to spar another few blows with the Tully boy before his footing got sloppy and Jon was able to knock his legs out from under neath him. “Cheap shot,” Robb spat as he pulled himself up from the hard ground.

Soft claps rang out over the training ground and Jon spun to see what had caused his brothers sudden intensity. And gods did he understand when he saw the smile perched on your lips as you clapped for him. Jon turned back to his brother with a smirk, “You’re just made she likes me,” he said emulating his previous words.

Robbs sword moved before Jon even had a chance to raise his own causing him to need to duck to dodge the blow. Sansa had never seen her brothers practise with such intensity or for any of their sparring to last so long. she glanced at you who was watching the pair intently and suddenly seemed to realise her brothers’ peculiar actions for the past week. “We should go,” she said softly.

At this point Robb had just managed to knock Jon to his feet. Again, you clapped before reluctantly drawing your eyes away and continuing your walk with Sansa. You couldn’t resist waving to the pair however as you were walking past. You smiled at the dopey grins on their faces as they waved back.

----

For the next few weeks, the pair continued their relentless bickering and it turned into a competition of sorts. Every time one managed a private moment alone with you the other was around the corner to get the same. Jon would go out of his way to escort you to places you already knew the way to such as the kitchens or gods wood, but you never complained, enjoying his jokes along the way. Robb began to escort you and his sisters horse rides, much to Sansa’s annoyance, and suddenly took far more of an interest in the library after he noticed your frequent visits. One of Robbs favourite sights was watching as you curled up with a book in an armchair by the fire in the library. He thought you didn’t notice his shameless stares and gazes, but you had.

You had also noticed the way Jons cheeks tinged pink each time you laughed at his joke or touched his arm. Robb did not blush the way Jon did, but you began to notice his lingering touches when he helps you on your horse or past you a book off the top shelf. The attention was something you had grown rather fond of and weren’t about to complain about.

Sansa however was a different story. She was sick of her brothers bickering, something all the Starks agreed upon but only she had noticed why. She was also sick of her brothers both crashing her talks with you or stealing you away. “You do realise they’re both totally in love with you?” she asked as you sat with her in her chambers doing some embroidery, the one place they wouldn’t disturb you.

You blushed at her words, “I wouldn’t say they’re in love,”

“Okay but you do know that they like you like you,” she clarified rolling her eyes. You had grown fond of the admittedly sassy Sansa Stark, “They’re gonna end up killing each other,”

“That’d be no fun,” you fake pouted before laughing as she rolled her eyes, “What do you want me to do? I didn’t ask them to fight over me,” even as you said it the words felt silly. Sansa sat her threads down, giving you the classic Sansa face you had grown to hate and love all at once. “Fine, I’ll talk to them,”

“Thank you,” she smirked before turning back to her threads, “Maybe they’ll finally give us some peace,” she said and all you could do was laugh at the irony of her demanding your attention while being upset about her brothers doing the same.

---

You hadn’t expected to talk to the boys as soon as you left but as you were walking from Sansa’s chambers to go find them you paused when you heard Robbs voice around the corner. “Maybe you should just back off,”

“Why do I need to back of?” When you heard Jons voice you slowly crept closer to the corner, pressing yourself against the wall just before the bend to hear properly, “Not everything is about you Stark,”

“Same for you Snow,” the venom was practically dripping off their voices. It would be concerning if the sound hadn’t sent a shiver up your spine at the hotness of the situation. The two most handsome men in Winterfell arguing over you? how could you complain?

“Well maybe we let her choose,” Jon said.

“Maybe we should,” Robb spat back.

Taking a deep breath, you decided to reveal yourself as you walked round the corner. Jons eyes grew wide when he saw you emerge and Robb quickly spun on his heels, his jaw slackening slightly at the sight. “My lady- “he began to stutter.

You held your hands up and he quickly stopped. You took a deep breath as you glanced around the corridors, “I think its time we had a little talk,” you said to the boys as you walked closer. The two almost hung their heads in shame, “Let’s go somewhere more private,” you said as you brushed past them and began to walk to your chambers.

The pair followed silently, tails between their legs when they realised, they had been caught. “This is your fault,” Robb mumbled but he groaned when Jon stuck his elbow into his side.

Luckily your room was not far, and you were soon ushering the pair in, latching the door behind you before facing them with your back pressed against the door. “What exactly am I supposed to be choosing?” you asked, eyebrow raised with a secret idea toying in your mind.

“My lady we can explain,” Jon began to stammer, cheeks going that cute shade of pink again, “Robb and I well we- “

“We both have an affection for you,” Robb continued trying to sound confident, but his voice failed him, “And we have been uh debating,” Robb said causing you to laugh.

“Debating?” you questioned, “It sounded more like an argument,” this time it was Robbs turn to blush.

Jon continued for his brother, “We just were trying to figure out which one of us you liked. Assuming you do like one of us,”

“I might,” you said with a slight smirk causing both boys heads to snap up, their eyes watching you intently.

“Well, which one of us is it?” Robb asked with eager eyes. He was internally praying to the gods to give him some luck or at least to have him swallowed up by the grounds if he was wrong about your affection. Jon was silently thinking the same.

You couldn’t help but laugh a little, “Who said it was one of you?” you said with a slight smirk. Both boys looked confused at your words. Pushing yourself off the door, you walked closer to the pair, “Would it be so bad if I didn’t choose? Were you not taught how to share?”

Part Two Here - Competition

Game of Thrones Taglist: @clairacassidy @nyotamalfoy

#robb stark angst #robb stark fluff #robb stark x reader #robb stark imagine #robb stark #robb stark smut #jon snow x reader #jon snow imagine #jon snow angst #jon snow #jon snow smut #jon snow fluff #game of thrones smut #game of thrones #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones x reader

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adoregojo · 10 days

Text

★- haunted by the trails of you.

a/n: here's some more angst i had in drafts and now I'm setting it free. wanted more pain but this what yall are getting for now d: (potentially getting a part two)

summary: their first anniversary without you, and you'd still be haunting them. !! gn reader!! characters: isagi, reo, rin. warnings: men. hurt/barely an comfort, the word 'vomit', blood mentions in rin's part, appear of other characters. perhaps heavy angst?

isagi: it was at his own home. for what he can fathom, isagi isn't considered as someone who's hooked on the past. at least that's what he pinned his head to. what had chronicles should've been a lesson, something that'll help him move forward, a memory that'll get him through to his feet again.

once the past had been written, there was no undoing. only exceptions and take the moral out of it.

sometimes isagi wished he had tugged on that enough as much as he tugged his heart to yours.

he was about to send himself a clout. has he learned nothing? why can't he draw a clear line without the ghost of you obsessing in every corner of his life? so instead, he botches his hair to untidy navy-blue locks flying out of place, mumbling cusses to none other than himself.

He bet he looked like a madman, uttering loathes undertone within every step upon a stair he took. He swore he spotted a middle aged lady covering her son's ears in horror. maybe he wasn't muttering as low as he thought.

it was saturday, in which isagi takes a day off to greet his parents from time to time. and he wasn't gonna cancel that over some feelings he might've got the wrong end of the stick about, it was probably just lingering lust and affection he had for you, but I'll past. clinging to the mere possibility and ignoring the ache that remains for too long than intended.

swirling the keys with his bare hands, isagi can view the frigid smoke of his breath appearing with every puff he let out. the tips of his fingers and knuckles were embarrassing standing out an angry shade of red, he forgot his gloves, again ,recalling: yoichi never really had to bat an eye when it comes to gloves. he'll even do it on purpose since you wouldn't think twice before launching yours to his frosty hands, while interlocking your hands with the other one.

now that he mentioned it, he always recollect how futile of an attempt it was. because the back of his hand will always remain polar, but at that time, it didn't carried a feather. he didn't really mind freezing to death if it meant I'll be in your arms. then he'll die any day.

isagi remains stationary, until his forehead rests the irony of his house door. he didn't know if he was deeply disappointed in himself, or just drowned by the sweet bygone days. gabbling something about how an idiot he was before taking a deep lungful of air and finally opening the door.

flinging his shoes to gods knows where, at this state even his mother's berating wouldn't budge a bone in him, yeah, this is how bad it was.

to his astonishment, there were no trails of his parents. isagi called, shouting once, twice. and gave up on the third time. he jogs around to the kitchen era, like expected: a dangling note covering some plate, informing him that they went out and they'll be back before dinner.

isagi just let out a defeated sigh, an obvious pessimistic wave looming over him. he was genuinely hoping to spend a family-time right away, and something to divert him away from the wraith of you.

a part of him wondered, what answer could he hand his parents, breaking the fact that you two were no longer together. his parents always loved you, adored you even. they'd definitely be shattered, he'll just muddle it by saying that you two drew apart till an ultimate downfall drilled up a hole in your relationship, leading to a break up. they’ll buy it, right?

blindly, isagi carried out the plat, slamming it flatly against the wooden table of the living room. making himself comfortable on the couch that held on the glimpse of his childhood, it was a pleasant to be at home again, and one of a great distraction.

he needed it.. anything to sway him away from the remainder of what name of this day earned..

from the corner of his eye, he spotted a second note. scoffing at himself isagi gets a grasp on it, living on the thought it might've been his parents requesting him to do chores, or just asking him to take extra care of himself.

isagi consulted it, even when a part of him begged him not to.

‘dear, yocchan. we really hope you'll be the one to read this, but if not! hello yoichi’s partner, that's quite embarrassing if you're reading this hahaha. but anyway, we figured that today is your two anniversary, isn't that just great? We remember just yesterday they were being introduced to us for the first time. What a good time to be alive, but anyway. There's some surprise cake for the two of you to share! Happy anniversary, you lovebirds.- your mother (in law).”

‘don't get too carried away please! - your father (in law).”

isagi flouts, bitterly. so sorely that all the rock-hard grip of his hand went straight to poor paper, ripping it apart to fall into small chunks. the stomach-bug swirl, not the one with the butterflies plopping in the depths of his stomach, swarming with to define a new level of bliss. but a disgusting ache of venom mobbing, making him want to vomit in an instant.

if it wasn't for his neighbors, isagi would've outcry his lungs out of frustration. but he wasn't on the field, where his anger planted. Now it's just a sad smile etching on his features.

and maybe a drip of a few tears..

how long were you planning on haunting him for..

reo: he had to delete it.. for the longest period, reo had never been so glued on what he busted by his own hands, words and ego. he had no one to blame but himself, and yet no amount of strength that earth granted him, no matter how the sky have bore in tears gleaming the ground, a pool of agony cries pleading for him to do it.

all that and he’d still struggle to press the delete button. He just couldn't.

“man, just delete it already.” chigiri cried out, slamming his palms against the skin of his forehead. He was tired. and he wasn't even getting paid to deal with this shit.

“it's easier for you to say it, you don't get it.” reo sassed back, trudging inches away from the redhead who's eyes twitched in disbelief.

nagi and chigiri一well, mostly chigiri, have been summoned by a cry for help from their shared friend. just for the end of the world to be him trying to delete the pictures and videos of you and him, his ex that lived in his head rent free.

it was a wretched sight to see, his eyes were tearing up while scrolling through your memories together. chigiri一god’s greatest soldier, was really, really doing everything he can to encourage reo back on his feet. It was like helping a spineless creature to straighten up.

it's quite impressive, he can use all his abilities on soccer pitches, give his best assists, be the heart, the mind and the soul of the field. Yet behind the plate was a completely different person, a hopeless guy curled up in a ball of your blanket that carried most of your left cologne, and sobbing till the sunrise. and today was a special show, he was absolutely shattered because your scent was slowly vanishing.

all chigiri can do is pinch the bridge of his nose in foiling, “listen, how about we go out or something? there's a nearby place we can get lunch and-”

“they used to love that restaurant¦” reo whines, shoving his phone into the redhead face, it carried a picture of you smiling blissfully and unaware, cheeks rife with food. “they're.. cute, so cute it makes me want to die.” falling backwards on the silky duvet of the queen-sized bed.

“Please don't, I still need my monthly allowance on genshin.” the one time nagi decided to finally say something, it had to be this. and chigiri never wanted to zip up someone's mouth so badly.

“you keep on stabbing yourself in the throat, you dumbass. if you can't do it then I'll do it for you.” stretching out his arm, opening up his palms for reo to hand over the phone and get this over with already.

in an instant, the phone was being embraced tightly to his chest, “no! I can do it myself, I just need some time," Chigiri just raised his hands in surrender, mumbling a quick ‘whatever’ as he jumped out the bed, leaving the extra space for his friend to grieve, alone.

it was a miracle that his tears still remain un-parched. Every photo he scroll through, the lump in his throat narrows painfully. clinching his lips upwards every time he crossed over while you were smiling, it hurts so good. He doesn't recognize whatever the knot in his stomach was reducing in sorrow or ecstatic.

he wasn't trashing any of those, he couldn't find it in his heart too. instead of criticizing himself of what he should've said to make you stay, what could've he done to swoon your heart instead of fleeting it. you'll keep on tip-toeing around his heartstrings and he'll let you without a charge.

he squeaked in his pillow, he just kept on bruising himself, torturing himself by the dim memory of what the two of you had once. something that not even money could regain or even soothe on. he yearned for one more kiss, one more embrace, one more chance to get a glimpse of you and he'll die a happy man, that's a lie, he'll misses you even after death.

he wished for you to come and haunt him, eat him to bits. but it was like he was the one haunting the crumbs of you.

on the middle of his groaning mess, an amber eyes staring sharply at him, his figure casting a shadow over his state. “here, drink up.” nonchalant, he handed him a random juice he ‘eeny, meeny’ his way to. reo accepted the drink, his arm sluggishly taking it. chigiri swore he was about to crack the glass over his head if he wouldn't stop this pitiful little act of his.

“why are you even this hardcore sad? you were never like this in the last weeks.”

“it's their anniversary, but not anymore I guess.” nagi shrugged, still too focused on the screen of his phone to pay the slightest amount of attention. turning a blind eye when reo flinches a bit at his truthful words

“have anyone told you you're a terrible human being?”

one sip, a second one. and his lilac eyes were watering for a million time. “they used to love this drink.” he whispered.

“i genuinely hope you choke on it.”

rin: it got so bad, he talked to sae about it.. running a few years backwards, if you told the sixteen years old itoshi rin he'd be seeking his own deadbeat of a brother to vent he'd spit out in your face with no second thought.

and if he could, he would've. because rin was rethinking his life choices, taking a step back every second yet taking two ahead then comprehending once again. and now there was no going back, what was between him and the urgent fate was a wooden door.

his hands buried deep in his pockets instead of making an attempt to knock. he found gazing at his pair of shoes much more entertaining.

he didn't have it in his head to think straight, not when you clouded over like an angry storm, all he can do is take it and let your teardrop roll down his face, or maybe they were his own tears, he couldn't savvy it.

after a deep lungful of air, rin thrust his forward, just an inch away, only to stop briskly. sae? really? just how desperate is he? very. he come to cuss himself for counting you as the one and only person he apostrophizes with. if only he’d listen when you would rant about him approving his social skills, he should've listened instead plugging his ears. He wished he listened to a lot of things you said..

in a rush, the door unlocked in a swift. almost making him funk backwards, unraveling the sight of his older brother, standing unimpressed. and before rin could speak a word, sae took the lead.

“you know I could see your shadow casting under my doorstep, right?”

Rin clicks his tongue in annoyance, and when he doesn't reply, the reddish head moves to the side, and rin steers his way in. shutting the door behind him, sae jog away, letting him take off his shoes. not even a proper welcome, he shouldn't have gotten his hopes up.

the apartment was quite tidy, a strong aroma loomed underneath his nose. Despite that, it was awkwardly dull, not even ghosts would bother haunting it. rin takes a seat in a solo couch, fumbling his fingers in a bothersome way, the silence was a deadline, not anything he wasn't used to.

It was just the first time rin had come here, by himself. without an actual family required to stick to the back.

or without you.

unintentionally, Rin's leg keeps thrusting. a bad habit of his when the tension gets thick. every passing second he berates himself even further, damn him for having only one path to seek solace in, for allowing only one soul to soothe over his frail heart, for authorizing only one embrace to delay him.

and damn you for carving open his heart. just to leave him to bleed.

the echoing steps of sae cut his strails of thoughts. settling down his cup of hot tea. rin raised a brow at the uncivil manner. “you didn't ask for one.” his brother shrugs calmly, oh he was driving him nuts with this unchanged attitude.

breathe in, rin.

reverberating voice called, so he obeys. straighten his pouster. “I wanted to talk to you about something. it's important.”

“I can tell. and your sidekick is nowhere to be found, did they finally ditch you?”

his hands clutching up in a makeshift ball, rin says nothing.

“oh, so they did?” sae blows a few times over the overheated cup, taking a sip then uttering something under his breath. “Well, that's unfortunate.” adding another cube of sugar as he retorted.

rin only got something out of this, that his brother didn't give a single fuck. and it drove him to the edge.

“You can at least pretend that you care.”

“never said I didn't.”

“you didn't have to, it's fucking showing.” rin seethed, his clenched hand striking the table balance, making the sugar cubes fall out of place. his anger was collapsing even the sweetest floras.

that doesn't nuge sae the slightest, but makes him frowns his brows a bit, because he was the one who had to sweep that off later.

the tension was solid and bulky, and Rin refused to break eye contact with the equal hues. Daring him to say something, anything. Yet he took it as a challenge, like he always does. The only way he communicates with sae is by beating him, proving himself. He'll die on that hill, even if it killed him itself. even if it has killed you already.

he knew this was a stupid idea, he should've just rotted in bed, he should've kept on living in the repeated circle of misery. He should've just lived up with every rush of breeze rustling his mistakes over and over, where he could've sworn that it was your voice.

breath, rin.

he was fucking trying.

“So what do you want me to do about it? be your wingman and pair you together again?”

“or, you could just say nothing. listening is enough.”

after a moment of silence, sae shoulders ease up. a guster pointed for him to keep going. so rin dose, he rants and rants like he had the time of the world right in his palms. It was mostly about you, how you were something that became his everything, how he should've stopped you like he wanted to, how he let you be driven away like he always does, how he should've apologized like he was supposed to.

blustring about ‘what the if’s’ and what would've happened if he just.. he loved you like you loved him.. if only he tried. he can't blame it on his immense ego, his lack of communication, the digged hole on his soul that you bleeded to fill, you gave all your flesh till there was nothing left but bones.

he could've rebuilt the broken pieces of your heart, but they were too sharp to hold. He bled within every one, he was bleeding to ashes, to nothingness.

you loved till there was nothing left to love about you. you drained down the hill. not even his blood could fulfill you.

his voice would crack, a dust cloud blows over his eyes, yet sae would stare at him ever so flatly. if he even dares to say disappointment. disappointed that his younger brother was just a copy past of him.

someone that kills everything he touches.

When rin has nothing left to say, sae stands up. reaching his pocket for a card that carries a name and a number. as the dark-head flipped the card between his fingers, blood-thirst eyes narrowed at him.

“a fucking therapist? are you fucking kidding me?"

“you clearly need one.”

“I don't, is this some kind of lukewarm joke?”

“stop being corny, I'm trying to help you here. if you aren't willing to let yourself feel the sense of loss, you can suit yourself out.”

and with that, sae turns his back to him. like he always does. climbing the stairs to his bedroom, leaving rin to reconsider where his actions have driven him, how beyond it threw it all.

although, he’ll never let himself feel the sense of loss. never. He'd rather be haunted by you than be alone forever, he'll be a stray till you pick him up again.

lmao wrote this with nagi plushie watching me like a hawk

#blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock #reo x reader #isagi x reader #rin x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #rin itoshi x reader #reo mikage x reader

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witch-hazels-musings · 1 year

Text

so long, loneliness

warning: hurt/comfort - (reader is ignored, talked over, feeling alienated by friends)

includes: Childe, Diluc, Thoma

character x gn reader | anthology

Childe

he notices ...

the energetic way you were talking has fizzled to nothing, like a sparkler whose flame was doused in a puddle

the power of your laugh has faded, been replaced the the obnoxious cadence of those around you

the way you try to interject, only for the opportunity to be stolen by another

he notices ... and he won’t stand for it

Group outings were not your jam. You knew this, and yet you convinced yourself to go out with your friends, and their friends, because, well, it had been a while and it was good for you to get out of your house sometimes. Still, you wished it wasn’t such an exposed place, and that you’d chosen a spot more in the middle so it wasn’t easier for you to be left out of the conversation.

The group had been talking about their jobs for some time now and though you worked in a similar field, it was hard to interject with so much going on. Not to mention you kept feeling like someone was trying to get your attention, but maybe that was your imagination.

“Oh yeah- I’ve had customers like th-” you started, only to get nowhere.

“Ugh, one time this lady came in a few minutes before we closed and wanted to order like seven things off the menu!” One of the others in the party interjected, pulling the attention away from you and back toward them. At this point, you felt like it was on purpose, but you had to remind yourself they’d done that to everyone, you were the only one that stopped trying.

The edge started to feel lonelier and lonelier. The bustling harbor drew your attention since the conversation wasn’t worth your time anymore. You watched citizens pass underneath on the main strip. They seemed to be enjoying themselves as they stopped by the vendors to peruse their wares, or follow the tantalizing scent of freshly cooked food. If you could have it your way, that’s what you’d be doing - at least then you could more easily slip away.

There was a crash behind you, another table knocked a cup onto the ground but when you looked past them you saw a familiar face leaning against one of the decorated railings. Shooting a quick look at your table you realized you were the only person who noticed him but when you waved he didn’t respond. Instead, he looked upset, though you couldn’t figure out why.

“Um, I’ll be back,” you said to the person sitting next to you. You didn’t really know them, but at least they nodded to show they heard you before returning loudly to the conversation at the table.

You grabbed your stuff and carefully made your way toward the brooding man standing in the darkness. “This is why people don’t like you,” you teased once you got near enough. The tall ginger took a moment to react to you being there, but when he did his eyes seemed to finally find color.

“What?” he looked confused, but unlike what you’d experienced all night, at least he looked at you.

“You’re standing in the shadows with a murderous look on your face; it’s why people find it hard to approach you.”

“Now hold on, I have plenty of friends,” he shot back as he pushed himself away from the beam and placed his hands on his hips.

“Sure,” you rolled your eyes but laughed at the shift in his behavior. You weren’t sure how Childe came into your life - it was like one moment he just ‘poof’d’ into existence and never left. The amount of times you stumbled across him was strange, considering how mysterious he made his life out to be. “Anyway, is there something bothering you? You’re face looks --” you asked, mimicking the expression you saw on him before taking a look across the scene as if seeing it from his perspective would give you insight into what made him scowl like that. From what you could tell, the only things visible were patrons of the restaurant, and the tops of buildings.

“Not anymore,” he responded and took a step between you and what you were looking at, “Come hang out with me.”

“W-What? Right now?”

“What better time than right now?”

“Childe, I’m with people. I can’t just go.”

“Yes you can. This place is dead. Besides, I’m way more fun,” he winked and took a step closer to you. It made your stomach flip, especially because he seemed to be boxing you in with little room to escape. This was another reason he had so many few friends - the intensity.

“Maybe -- but --” looking back to the group, you thought about what they’d say if you just left. It didn’t seem right to just dip out ... but ... you did consider doing just that a few minutes ago so ...

“Mmm, okay, I see where I stand. I get it, leave me here all by my lonesome ...” Childe bent toward the railing, his body crumbling as if the thought of your rejection physically hurt him.

“Ah! Hold on a second -” you pushed his chest to try and keep him from falling over and making an even bigger scene than his ‘despair’ was already causing, “archons, you know I like you! Now stand up, we’re in public,” you couldn’t help but laugh at the puppy-dog like expression he had, but as soon as he shifted back to the intense Childe, it was your turn to avoid crumbling to the floor.

“Hah,” he moved so fast. In an instant he pinned you in the corner, his hands gripping the railing to keep you in place while he closed the distance between the two of you, “so you do like me.”

Blinking, taken-aback, you stammered, unable to form a sentence. The sharp grin creeping across his lips made your skin burn; why was it so hard to breathe?

“And you said no one liked me.”

“I - wha-?”

Childe continued to look at you until his face became unreadable. He was looking at you, but it was ... more than that. It was like whiplash, and you weren’t sure how to survive it. Luckily, the group you came with erupted in noise and, in an instant, Childe moved giving you much needed space to breathe.

“Hey, come on! Don’t keep me waiting!” he shouted, already half-way down the stairs, hand extended, beckoning you to take it. Biting your lip, you contemplated where you wanted to be. Option one would lead you back to the edge of the table where you had to scramble to be heard, while option two ensured you’d be at the top right next to someone who actually wanted you there.

Rocking your head back and forth you gave it some more thought until your uncertainties turned into a nod. With a giddy smile on your face, you dashed toward him and grabbed his hand.

You couldn’t feel it, it was hard to tell, but when you smiled at him he felt a wave of relief because this time it was real, this time, you gave it to no one but him.

“Try and keep up!” he exclaimed but never ran faster than you could manage.

Diluc

he notices ...

the smile you had when you first arrived is hidden, is fake and doesn’t look like you

the way you fidget, leg bouncing, head down, nails pushing back the cuticles that have seen many stressors

the glances to the tavern entrance, your mind plotting the path to your escape

he notices ... and he won’t stand for it

The tavern was always loud but for some reason it seemed louder today. Perhaps that’s why they couldn’t hear you when you spoke up, that makes sense? Right?

Your friends burst into laughter and you appeased them by participating even though you missed what was so funny.

“How can someone be so hot and so stupid at the same time” you heard as you took a sip of the drink you didn’t want in the first place. It tasted bitter, leaving an unpleasant tang in your mouth.

“This is why getting to know someone first is important. Ugh, and he thinks he’s all that. You should just break up with him.”

“Yeah -- but I like him,” the boy lamented across from you, his head dipping toward the wooden table in despair. In the back of your mind you knew this conversation wouldn’t go anywhere. How many times had you tried to convince him to break it off, and how many times did your suggestions go unheard?

Still, there was a lull, perhaps you could interject, “I know you like him, but maybe this is your sig-”

“Friend, he literally can’t find his way around Mond,” your other friend interjected, cutting you off. If anyone were looking, they would have seen how much you deflated when the two of them kept talking, unaware you were there at all.

“It’s a hard to remember!”

“He’s lived here all his life!”

“So?”

“AND ITS A CIRCLE!” they shouted as they threw their arms in the air. The sudden loud outburst drew the attention of by-standards and you felt an uncomfortable amount of eyes on you.

“See, that’s hard to remember.”

“Honey, no,” they laughed and brought out a laugh from your friend sitting across from them before dropping their head in disbelief. “I can’t with you, hah.”

“I’m - um - going to go get more drinks --” you said but were cut off, ignored, again. Normally you didn’t mind. The three of you had been friends for so long and they were both a lot more energetic than you so even though it looked like they were alienating you, they really weren’t. It’s just how they were -- there were plenty of times you got the chance to talk -- at least for a bit -- sometimes. With a sigh, you turned toward the bar, their conversation fading the further away you got.

Most of the tables were filled so only a few spots were left open at the bar-top. A couple here, several loners there, and then you, sliding in between knowing you wouldn’t be here long enough to take one.

“I’ll be right with you,” the bartender said while you pulled out your money to settle the bill. This was your chance to leave - it was getting late, you had things to do tomorrow - your friends wouldn’t notice if you left anyway. Glancing back at them you saw they were in a heated conversation, unaware you weren’t still with them. Yup, they wouldn’t even notice. “What can I get for you?”

“Oh, nothing I just-” you looked up and saw Diluc Ragnvindr standing on the other side of the bar. He tugged at his glove before resting it on the counter and you lost your train of thought. If anyone thought Diluc was unattractive, they’d be lying. “Sorry I -” Fumbling with your money, you took longer than you wanted in opening the small bag, “I just want to pay my tab.”

“Alright,” he left for a moment before returning with a small slip of paper. “That’ll be 400 mora.”

“Wh-Wait? Really?” You counted the drinks in your head and, based on what you could calculate, that didn’t add up.

“The last drink you had you didn’t like it, so I excluded it from your bill.”

How did he know you didn’t like it? Was he ...? “Oh no, you don’t have to do that, Diluc. I don’t mind,” you fingered through the change in your pouch fully intending to pay more than he requested. It would be wasteful otherwise.

“It’s no problem,” he reiterated and glanced at the table you came from, “Headed out for the night?”

“Yeah -- I um -- I have to get up early,” you lied.

“It’s late. Are your friends not going with you?” Diluc placed his hand back on the bar top. If you were looking at him, you might of noticed the way he stared down the loners within earshot of your conversation.

“No,” you answered with a sad smile, “they’re distracted, and I don’t want to shorten their fun so -- anyway, besides, I’m used to walking by myself,” you added and placed your mora on the counter, putting a few extra coins down as a ‘tip’. Diluc groaned, but didn’t say much else.

“Charles,” Diluc called out while you put your bag away and turned toward the door. There were a few people standing behind you, waiting to get close enough to order a drink; so you apologized as you pushed through them. When you reached the front entrance, you looked back to your friends to wave goodbye but they didn’t look up.

Suddenly, a hand appeared on the doorknob. You stepped back to move out of their way but were shocked to see it was Diluc. The look on your face was enough for him to answer the question floating in your head.

“I’ll walk you home,” he explained so matter-of-factly like it was expected of him to do so.

Throwing up your hands, you shook your head, “That’s really not necessary. Besides it’s so busy right now ...”

He opened the door and a wave of fresh nighttime washed over you. It mixed with the smell of cedar and wine, a somehow comforting scent. When he called your name you listened, “It’s late and would be unsafe for you to walk by yourself. I’ll ensure you get home safely.”

The noise from the tavern seemed so distant now that the outside world was welcoming you. It was like everything paused. Normally you had to jump at the change to interject, but Diluc wasn’t like that. He waited; with his hand on the door and the other extended toward your back but never touching. He waited.

“If you’re sure,” you hummed, a little overwhelmed from the intensity of him.

“I am,” he replied and though you couldn’t feel it, though it was hard to tell, when you smiled at him he felt a wave of relief because this time it was real, this time, you gave it to no one but him. “Shall we?” he asked and willed his heart to slow at the sound of your gentle laugh and a soft, ‘okay.’

Thoma

he notices ...

the way you stand to the side as those around you block you out; you’re kind, and they’ve taken advantage

the way you shake your head, say ‘go ahead,’ when you clearly wished they would have let you have it - at least once

the smile you hold when you speak up and the frown it turns into when you’re left with no reaction

he notices ... and he won’t stand for it

The shops always had the best things. Lately they’d gotten even better; mostly likely due to the lifting of the vision hunt decree that kept the islands isolated from the rest of the world. With less restrictions, the vendors and merchants were finally able to bring in new wares which made the shopping districts boom with business.

You were excited to go with your friends, especially since you’d had to pick up extra shifts lately. It felt like eons since you last did something fun, something for you, so you made sure to take your time getting ready.

At first, things were normal, lively, inclusive, but as the evening went on you started to feel left out of the group. While you were still looking at a shop, everyone else was rushing down the packed street to see the next thing. The amount of times you turned to share what you found with a complete stranger, or find yourself scanning the crowd for your group would have been enough to pay for all the items you found.

Considering it had been a while for everyone to get together you tried your best to satiate the turmoil rising in your chest. It hurt to be left out, but would it hurt more to go home knowing you’d be left alone anyway? At least out here it seemed like you were a part of something.

“Oh! Look at how pretty! Let’s check it out!” Your friend shouted, her hands wrapped around two other friends as she pulled them after her. You all had agreed to hold onto each other so you wouldn’t get lost in the crowd but as several people separated you from the rest of your group, you realized they had forgotten about it.

You didn’t recall eating anything, so why did your stomach hurt and your throat feel clogged? Frustrated, you pinched the bridge of your nose only to be knocked to the side by some kids rushing through the bustle. You stumbled into a group of older gentlemen who asked if you were okay. Embarrassed, you bowed in apologies only to bump into some woman who was less accepting of your ‘I’m so sorry.’ All you wanted was to have a good time and, right now, you were doing everything you could not crumble.

“Padron us,” someone interrupted your swirling thoughts as they grabbed your wrist and began to pull you through the crowd. You looked to see who it was but could only make out their bright red jacket and blonde, bouncing ponytail. “Oops - sorry about that,” he chuckled as he knocked into a group not paying attention to their surroundings, “almost through,” he said, seemingly, to you.

When the two of you were finally free, Thoma made sure you were safely out of the way before letting you go.

“Woah, that was wild wasn’t it?!” he chuckled and dusted himself off. He took note of his surroundings and you noted how he stood in front as if to shield you from the crowd.

It was hard to catch you breath, but you did what you could in the safety of the space Thoma created. “Thank you, Thoma.”

“No problem! It’s dangerous to be in a crowd like that alone.”

“Yeah, well I was-- yeah, super dangerous,” you said, biting back the comment you wanted to say, i wasn’t alone, or at least, wasn’t supposed to be. “What brings you here on such a busy day?”

Thoma ran his hands over his hair, the action pulled on the short red jacket he always wore, “Running some errands. I just needed to grab a few things, that’s all.”

“You always work so hard. You need a day off,” you commented while your eyes scanned the crowd for your friends. It was a small hope that you’d find them, but it was worth a shot.

“Haha, I don’t mind. Plus, if I hadn’t been out here I wouldn’t have stumbled across you. So, I’d call this a good day.”

You turned your attention back to Thoma who was rubbing the back of his neck and sending you a kind smile. You liked Thoma, of course you did. He was always so warm, thoughtful, and capable, it was impossible not to like him. And here he went out of his way to save you from the crowd. Add this to the reasons why you had such strong feelings for him.

“I guess I do owe you one for saving me.”

He threw up his hands, “Its no trouble-”

“Nope. It is. You’re super busy and I took some of your time. So, how can I help?” He seemed a bit shocked by your comment but after a moment he relaxed into soft laughter and resigned himself to accept he couldn’t wiggle his way out of it.

“If you want to come help me run some errands ... maybe?”

He looked so cute asking and you could already see his brain working on a way to convince you it was really alright. In the end, there was only one answer you could give him.

“Absolutely. I’m ready to work!” You rolled up your sleeves and moved next to him, ready to dive back into the crowd for Thoma.

He chuckled again as he turned about-face toward the slew of people. “Alright then. With two of us we’ll get it done in no time.”

You beamed, excited and ready to go. “Mmhm!”

With confidence, you took a step forward only to be stopped by Thoma’s hand around your wrist, “ah, maybe it’s better if I go first and you -- ahem -- hold onto me so we don’t get separated.” His cheeks looked a little red, and he could only manage to glance at you. Considering he was asking someone who wasn’t his partner to have prolonged physical contact with him, you understood how embarrassing the situation was (and hoped he couldn’t tell you thought the same).

“A-alright,” you agreed and watched as he guided your hand to red fabric that stuck out above his belt.

“Here we go, ready?” You nodded and took a step closer to him. The two of you shared flickering glances before he steadied himself and pushed forward, “P-Pardon us!”

You couldn’t feel it, it was hard to tell, but when you smiled at him he felt a wave of relief because this time it was real, this time, you gave it to no one but him.

Tomorrow, you’d tell your friends something came up and to not feel bad about being separated because, even if you weren’t with them, you didn’t end your night feeling lonely.

#hazels works #genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #childe x reader #childe x gn reader #diluc x reader #diluc x gn reader #thoma x gn reader #thoma x reader #genshin hurt/comfort

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honestly-oceanie · 1 year

Text

You drew stars around my scars || Manhwa DILFS edition

Synopsis: drawing or painting something on them

《Claude de Alger Obelia, Anastacius de Alger Obelia, Regis Adri Floyen, Abel Heilon, Gallahan Lombardi, Charente Crown, Dane Henstone, Lant Agriche | gn!reader》

{Fluff♡ | ▪︎imagine/scenario▪︎}

A/N: should I do the female leads/characters next?

Who Made Me A Princess/ Suddenly, I Became A Princess One Day

Claude De Alger Obelia

"Emperor of the Obelian Empire"

🦋 You were sitting on one of the couches provided on the Emperor's office per usual. Just laying there doing nothing eventually got you into boredom.

🦋 You started to think of something that may entertain you. Then your eyes come across the quill on Claude's office table. You suddenly remembered that day you spend with Athy.

🦋 The young princess managed to get ahold of some paint and offered if she could paint some doodle on you. You had been strict on neatness so this made you quite nervous inside yet you agreed with the young princess' request. She did told you to return the same favor to her, and you both had the joyous laugh and fun of your lives. Lily did scold the both of you after she caught you two.

🦋 Since it's only you and the Emperor, only he could be your victim. You ask if you could draw on him mindlessly, forgetting just who you were talking to. After a long moment of stunned silence, you finally realized that the person you were talking to is Claude de Alger Obelia.

🦋 As you were about to apologize, he says: "It's fine." Of course you were shock, contemplating if he did mean it or if it's your last day of living. After a while, you finally stood up and did as you wanted to.

🦋 As a matter of fact, he actually saw what happened that day, he could hear your rare laugh along with his daughter's. He decided to 'check' on what was happening and there he saw you both, filthy with paint yet happy. Thus, today he was quite shock by your sudden request, he won't ever admit it but he felt quite jealous seeing that.

🦋 It would be quite nice to do this to him while he's having his beauty rest, but only when you have the guts🤭

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Who Made Me A Princess/ Suddenly, I Became A Princess One Day

Anastacius De Alger Obelia

"Former Emperor of the Obelian Empire"

🦋 Let's set this by the time he's still possessed.

🦋 As Lady Jennette's personal attendant, you had always been around her as she grew up. You were kindhearted and gentle. Jennette really admires you a lot, she grew to see you as a parental figure of hers.

🦋 One day, you saw Jennette chatting with a man that seemed familiar for some reason. After debating with yourself whether you should interrupt or not, you remembered the reason you came looking for her.

🦋 Anastacius could see you walking forward from his peripheral vision but he continued to talk with his daughter.

"Lady Jennette, your afternoon tea is ready."

"Right of course! I'll see you next time Viscount!"

🦋 After Jennette left, you and Anastacius had a short staring contest before you left to go follow the young lady.

🦋 Jennette doesn't seem to mind the company of this certain Viscount Patterson yet you were rather suspicious of him, he just has this mysterious aura that you can't trust him just yet. However, you didn't voice out your doubts, you were just a mere servant you couldn't just interfere in your master's business that easily. Eventhough Jennette wouldn't mind at all

🦋 After some days, there seem to be no suspicious movement from him so you started to warm up to him a bit. What matters the most to you was Jennette's safety and happiness.

🦋 You and Jennette were doodling on each others arms, this always bring calm to Jennette and she enjoys doing this so it has became a habit between you both, sometimes Ijekiel does join when he has spare time but today he was quite busy so instead you were accompanied by Viscount Patterson. Jennette's friendly personality invited him as he happened to pass by, and here he is now seated beside you.

🦋 Jennette had gotten tired and decided to take a break. As she ate her biscuits she suggested for him to join and for you to draw on him as she is too tired to continue.

"May I?"

🦋 You asked him and he did agree, only because of his daughter. He was surprise at how good you are and compliment you for your talent. He asked if you were an artist before but you were not, though painting and sketching are hobbies of yours.

🦋 Jennette watch the interaction between you two, she was very happy and celebrating inside. Although you were kind and gentle, you're also very shy, she still remembers the time you first meet her. Your soft voice and stuttering at your introduction replays in her memory. Before, you couldn't even talk without a stutter at all, yet here you are now finally allowing yourself to mingle with others.

🦋 You were slowly warming up, and Anastacius could see that too.

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Father, I Dont Want To Get Married!

Regis Adri Floyen

"Duke of the Floyen Duchy"

🦋 At this very moment, Regis feels as the most fortunate man to be able to have you in this life.

🦋 Jubel is seated in front of you as you do a portrait of her. After you had finish, she excitedly rush to you. Seeing your finished masterpiece of her, Jubellian poured a waterfall of praises while gazing amazedly at you.

🦋 She fancied you even in the 'novel', you were the only one who genuinely cared for the villainess. You tried everything to break up Jubellian and Mikhail, knowing he wasn't sincere with her at all, yet it cause the connection between you both to cut off as Jubellian believes "you did not want for her to be happy". Despite all that, you still defended her during the accident even if it costed you your life.

🦋 The entire ordeal, Regis just watched your interaction with his daughter, very grateful that you are still a part in this life. The serenity of the sight in front of him brought Regis' heart into peace. This tranquility he wishes would last, but he knows now is not the right time, but eventually it will come. He has been given a second chance to right the wrongs so he must use this chance, right?

🦋 Jubel could feel some piercing eyes from behind her, she turned to scold max as she thought it was just him, but it was her father, gazing lovingly at them. Picking up on the hint, Jubel excuse herself so you and her father could spend some time.

🦋 Regis took the seat Jubel previously seated on, waiting for you to pick up on his presence. All of a sudden, Selena thought it would be a good opportunity to be the third wheel. You heard a chirping on your side, knowing it was either Selli or Eddie, you took a look at your side only to yelp, surpise to find the empty spot replaced by Regis and Selena on his shoulder.

🦋 Afterwards you started some small talk with him while petting Selli, who moved to lay on your lap. Since you had already made a portrait and painting of Regis before, you thought why don't he become your canvas this time.

🦋 Although he was confuse on what you meant he agreed, you hold his arm and started drawing some cute animals you could think of there. Although it wasn't his first time seeing your artworks, it never ceases to amaze him.

🦋 He loves to give compliments and praises to your artworks and you. In this life, he will cherish you always and never take you for granted.

🦋 While you two are having a lovey-dovey moment, Jubel watches from the door, she was very happy for the two of you, however someone was not. Selena was not happy, not because of the two of you but because you still haven't made a portrait of her. Don't worry 'cause Edward comforted her as he too, still hasn't gotten his own portrait.

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Author Of My Own Destiny/ I Became The Wife Of The Male Lead

Abel Heilon

"Duke of the North"

🦋 You and Abel had a slow burn romance which Fiona greatly regrets now. At first she thought it was a good idea and she really liked how it turned out. But right now she just wants to shove the two of you together in one place so these longing stares will finally come to an end.

🦋 Even Siegren understands the situation very well and wants to help pushing it too. Fiona herself is tired of you two, just why did it had to be slow burn?!

🦋 Finally, Siegren and Fiona had come up with a plan. A few plans as a matter of fact. Though hopefully they won't have to use all of it.

🦋 The first two plans failed miserably. But they say third time's a charm.

🦋 You were invited by Siegren and Fiona, they said they wanted to spend some time with you and have 'fun'. You, of course agreed, you love these kids too much to even reject their puppy eyes. You guys are on Fiona's room, some art materials scattered on the floor waiting to be use.

🦋 You have no idea why they thought of this, but currently you three are running around the room having a paint war, attacking whoever you get ahold of with some messy drawing or even a doodle with the paint you have in your hands.

🦋 Now Fiona's room isn't presentable at all not even a little decent, but none of you cared, even Fiona and Siegren are having too much fun that they almost forgot their mission. Luckily Abel came in at point.

🦋 Abel was stunned at what had happen to Fiona's room, he scolded the children for their reckless behavior. Now things weren't going as planned. You couldn't stand to see the kids being scolded for you have a very soft spot for them. You just said what you could think of at that moment; inviting Abel to join you guys instead. You were surprise you even had the guts to interrupt him but words can't be taken back once they're said. Fiona and Siegren were internally celebrating, you managed to sail the boat without even knowing!

🦋 Abel was pondering for awhile if he should really join you guys or scold you too. But he succumb to his desire and join you three, though just most likely you. The kids immediately run off on the corner of the room to avoid disturbing you two, then acted as though they were doing something. You give a smile to Abel as he sat down beside you. You raise the paint brush on your hand, silently asking him if you could draw on him and he nodded.

🦋 You looked serious as you were doing your task but really, your heart was beating too fast it could leap out of your chest, you tried your best to look normal as possible, unbeknownst to you Abel was on a similar situation. Fiona and Siegren just staring at you both intensely, praying and hoping that this plan would succeed.

🦋 After you had finish Abel stared at your drawing for awhile before grabbing your wrist and the paint brush on your hand, taking you by surprise but also intrigued by what he is gonna do. Instead of drawing, he seemed to write some letters on your arm but you couldn't read it properly as he was covering it. After he had finally written the words he couldn't say, he let you read it.

🦋 Your eyes went wide as you proccess the words written on your arm by Abel Heilon himself. This was a sudden confession but Abel couldn't hold it in anymore. There was a long moment of silence, Abel was growing nervous, maybe this wasn't the right time, but you proved him wrong as you jumped on him to tackle him with a hug. You repeated the words he wrote to you as you stared at his eyes.

🦋 Just the two of you on your own world... until Fiona and Siegren cheered loudly to celebrate this success, you two had almost forgetten they were there too.

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I'll Be The Matriarch In This Life/ I Shall Master This Family

Gallahan Lombardi

🦋 You and Gallahan are always willing to try anything new in your relationship, that's how you two have had a lot of habits and tradition you both just randomly made up.

🦋 Just like now, when you saw a quill on the table, you dipped it with its ink, and did some cute little drawings on his face while your other hand keeps him steady. He just sat still waiting for you to finish what you were doing without interrupting you.

🦋 Once you were done, you run around to find a hand mirror then gave it to him so he could see what you've done to him, he was surprise as it was his first time seeing you draw something even though it is on his face, but he liked how good your drawings are even if it's simple.

🦋 He feign sadness as you laugh at him. Promising to help him clean up after you feel satisfied. He wasn't gonna back down that easily, whilst you were trying to calm down, he swiftly got ahold of the quill and did the same favor on you, it caught you off guard.

🦋 Instead of cleaning up, you ended up having a competition on who had the best drawing. Tia was walking around when she saw what you two were doing, it seems fun she wanted to join and of course you both let her.

🦋 In the end, you both made tia win, you and Gallahan now look messier than ever as you let tia draw a lot, what's important was that you had tia have some fun. Since tia didn't had much inks on her, you let the maids take care of her.

🦋 You and Gallahan are helping each other remove the inks on each other. Being together brought you both in happiness, no matter the circumstance you may face you know you both can pull through. Afterall you promised one another to be there through sickness and health. For now, while there is still chance you try to do everything you can before the time is up. One's presence may fade but their memories will never cease to exist.

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Please Give Me The Pacifier!

Charente Crown

"Heir to the Crown Duchy"

🦋 I have mixed feelings with this man so I don't know what I'm doing here.

🦋 Kaishan loves to have you around, because of you Kaishan had become rebellious to his father, thus Charente had allowed you to visit his manor at some appointed time(s) which honestly scared you.

🦋 But overtime Charente had gotten used to your presence, he eventually let you visit at anytime you wished to which made you and Kaishan celebrate with joy.

🦋 You had thought about doing this activity so Kaishan could have some fun. Your company is enough for Kaishan to have fun and be happy. Unfortunately, you had forgotten to bring the materials with you, you apologize to the cute kid but he told you not to worry, he left the room in a hurry but not before telling you to not follow him as he will be back soon.

🦋 Kaishan run off to find his father and told him the situation. After some minutes of waiting, Kaishan finally returned... with his father carrying the materials needed. Thankfully you had gotten accustomed with his existence so you did not mind him around anymore.

🦋 At first, you were just calmly teaching him how to do some basic painting starting with shapes first yet he decided to start a war by smudging some paint on your face on purpose, he gave a cheeky apology afterwards but you knew you weren't putting down without a fight, so you return the same favor to him. You and Kaishan are now filthy with paint yet Charente didn't stop you at all, you both were having a good time.

🦋 You didn't know, but as much as you make Kaishan happy, you also make Charente happy internally, he is already satisfied with the proximity you two have and yet he can't help but feel jealous of his own son right now.

🦋 You could feel him burning holes at the back of your head so you turn to look at him. His eyes seems to say something, you had an inkling on what it may be but you did not dwell much on it, afterall he was a man that's very hard to read, you'd rather avoid the consequences than to suffer from it because of some misunderstanding.

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Tricked Into Becoming The Heroine's Stepmother

Duke Dane Henstone

🦋 His situation is quite similar to Charente's but successful thanks to the help of his little pumpkin that made it possible.

🦋 You were at the garden with Pierta, watching as she eats one of her favorite candy, pumpkin candy. You are aware of how much she loves her pumpkin and wanted to do something special for her, unfortunately, you had no idea how to cook nor bake so you think of other ideas.

🦋 You remembered in your childhood how much you loved to have the ink spilled on your skin as you draw whatever you could think of, you always end up getting scolded by nanny, in the end the entire household made sure that any ink or something that may color your skin will be out of reach for you. At first you threw tantrums but eventually you grew to forget about it.

🦋 Luckily, you always bring a pen with you. You thought about drawing some cute pumpkins on Pierta. The little one complied when you ask her to give you her hand, then you started drawing some pumpkins with funny faces. Pierta seemed to like it too much as she reaches out to you again asking you to do more.

🦋 You chuckled nervously, you don't wish for the little pumpkin to have the same habit, just thinking about it made you sweat anxiously you don't want to face the wrath of Duke Henstone. Pierta notice some eyes and looked up to see her father, she immediately stood up and ran to him excitedly. You bowed to the Duke as you greet him, Pierta could understand that her father likes you and decided to be the cupid.

🦋 She drags her father towards you and have him seated, she explained to him what you were doing to her a few moments ago, she asks if you could do the same to her father. You tried to make up an excuse "Only if the Duke agrees with it." And of course he would, he'll do anything his daughter asks of him.

🦋 In the end, you gave in, how could you resist the little pumpkin. You were seriously staring at what you were doing while the Duke is also busy staring at you, none of you notice the chestnut cupid sneakily running away. After you had finish you looked up to him but immediately looked away after he stared back at you. It seems the little pumpkin went away huh. You finally started small conversation with him which he has been waiting to as he couldn't do so, something always happens whenever he wants to talk to you.

🦋 He'll be sure to thank his princess, knowing well that it was her who gave him this opportunity.

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The Way To Protect The Female Lead's Older Brother

Lante Agriche

"Former Head of the Black Agriche"

🦋 Nah. Just Nah. Runn🏃‍♂️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

╔══ ≪ °❈° ≫ ══╗

Honestly, Oceanie

╚══ ≪ °❈° ≫ ══╝

2K notes · View notes

captain-mj · 3 months

Text

Love Potion <3

Hey, think of the consent issues you can think of when a person is under a love spell. Take that into consideration moving forward. Keep an eye on Roach.

Soap had been wanting to be part of the guard since he was old enough to hold a sword. He finally had been accepted, though it took a while to be able to. Not just because his age, but also his history of trying to sneak into the guard made them not believe him when he was actually of age.

Mostly, he was looking for purpose in life. Some thing outside of himself that he could believe in. And what better than protecting his people from the evil things that tried to destroy his kingdom?

Elves were constantly going to war with them. They seemed to despise them constantly and Soap did find their looks to be… alarming. The long pointed ears, the odd makeup most wore as well as the unnatural paleness they had. Being as they were the main sources of most magic as well, Soap found himself hating them.

At the current moment, the current evil creature terrorizing them was a weird thing that stalked the woods at night. Soap was not sure if it even existed but he knew that most of the citizens of their city thought that and in the end, that was really what was important. Even if his presence was more symbolic, he eased their minds.

Soap got up and started to pull on his armor. It was not a full suit, as he likely would not be going into battle today. Maybe some basic sparring but he wasn’t up for a lot at the moment. He planned to mostly just patrol and see if he could maybe get a glimpse at his Lieutenant.

Simon “Ghost” Riley.

Everyone was interested in him, but he only paid his Lord and Lady attention. He was quiet and sharp when he did talk and he struck both fear and… something a little closer to infatuation in almost everyone he met. Something about his presence…

Soap was not immune to this effect. Not one bit. Sometimes, it felt like he got it more than anyone. When Ghost was in the room, it felt like the only way he could breathe is to look at him.

He was sure that everyone felt this way a little bit.

Soap finished his musing and left their barracks. He went straight to his favorite baker. In all honesty, the only retreat he was interested in was Roach’s company. He was lovely company, though he was cursed to be unable to speak. Soap had never seen a nice, cooler person. Even if he had a strange choice in headwear, constantly having a mask on to cover his mouth and a helmet on.

Roach noticed him and he perked up, quickly scuttling off to get him a cup of coffee and some form of…

Soap wasn’t sure exactly. Just that it was a form of bread and had meat on it. He was skeptical until he took a bite.

“Roach, if i was allowed, I’d marry you in a heartbeat.”

Roach blushed a bright cherry red and smiled even brighter somehow visible through his mask. He took his money, counting it quickly before dropping it in the cup he used for collection.

Soap didn’t understand why so many found him off putting. Despite his curse, he was pleasant. He made idle chat, careful not to interrupt his business, just there to enjoy his company.

“MacTavish.” Ghost whistled and Soap quickly turned around to look up at him.

“Lieutenant! Need something?” Soap smiled politely, hands behind his back in a perfect parade pose.

Ghost glared at him. Presumably. He never took off his headgear, meaning no one ever saw his face.

Soap thought about it. Had drawn different versions of him more times than he could count to see if he could possibly get close. Like always, Ghost drew all of Soap’s attention.

“No…” Ghost brushed him off and got some food from Roach. “Hey, Sanderson. Nice to see you.”

Roach fluttered his eyelashes at him and quickly made him a cup of tea and a… scone? Soap was man enough to admit that he didn’t actually know the words for most of what Roach sold.

Ghost… lifted his mask.

For a moment, a bright beautiful moment, Soap thought he’d take it off completely. That he would see the scarred gruff man beneath.

What could he expect? Salt and pepper hair? Stubble? Dozens of scars? He was probably much older than Soap.

Ghost lifted his mask to just barely reveal his mouth as he started eating. He dipped his biscuit into his tea before taking a bite. When he paid, he gave Roach a thankful grunt and ruffled Roach’s hair.

Roach looked enamored, face bright red. He noticed Soap watching and quickly started to clean, looking very embarrassed.

Soap tried to ignore the jealousy he felt at this entire situation and made himself scarce. Ghost was too obsessed with his job to ever entertain any of them. Least of all Soap. But seeing the rare moments where he gave out affection and it wasn’t directed at him…he felt so ignored.

During the day, Soap mostly stood in one place and looked intimidating. At night, he hesitated between going back to his barracks and guarding the house of the town’s lady and lord. Logically, he should go to the barracks as he hadn’t been told explicitly he was on the night shift but it had been roughly four days.

Just to be safe, he went ahead and went to their home.

Home was… well. It was basically a small scale castle. He thought it was honestly a little grandiose for his taste.

There was no one around. Just a very soft silence.

Soap gritted his teeth. Yeah. He was definitely supposed to watch them. Why the previous watch had not waited for someone to relieve them was beyond Soap entirely.

He went inside to check if they were okay, but was unable to find his lady or lord.

It didn’t occur to Soap that continuing to look may make him stumble on something he shouldn’t. He was too focused on making sure that his charges were okay and safe.

A cracked door.

Never good.

Soap stared at it, hearing… something.

Breathing.

Anxiety rolled in his gut but he had to make absolutely sure his charges were safe. That was his whole job. The place reeked of roses, chicory root and jasmine. Nothing directly sinister but definitely seemed like the components of magic.

So he silently looked through the door, just to make sure.

Soap covered his mouth.

His lady was in a knight’s lap. He knew the moment he saw the armor who it was.

Ghost.

That would explain his one track mind when it came to this.

She had taken off his helmet, having tossed it to the floor at some point. Her hands ran feverishly over him as her husband spoke. He seemed to be ordering them both around.

Soap felt a tiny bit better than she wasn’t sleeping with Ghost outside of her husband’s knowledge, but the entire situation was disturbing. While he’d never fault someone for their kinks, he would’ve never guessed his Lieutenant would have such… proclivities.

She shoved him down on the bed, due to his size, his head lolled off of it and hung down, giving Soap a sudden and very aggressive view of his face.

Three things were noticed in very quick succession.

One, Ghost was more beautiful than Soap could’ve guessed. Soft lips. Beautiful curly hair. A chest and taught stomach that made Soap wish more than anything that he was the one currently making his way down his body instead of the lady of the town.

Two, he was an elf. Long pointed ears. Unnaturally pale features.

Three, perhaps most horrific, his pupils were wrong.

Heart shaped.

Meaning he had a love potion on.

Ghost didn’t smile. He didn’t enjoy this. Even under the influence of magic, they couldn’t force him to pretend.

Soap fled like a coward.

#Johnny “Soap” Mactavish #Simon “Ghost” Riley #Gary Roach Sanderson #Soap Cod #Ghost COD #Soapghost #Ghostsoap #Soap x Ghost #Ghost x Soap #Macriley #Call of Duty #Call Of Duty Modern Warfare 2 #ghost x roach #roach x ghost #roach x soap #soap x roach #ghost x soap x roach

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cdragons · 30 days

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❄️ Imagine Being Luwin's Apprentice & Childhood Friends with Robb, Jon, and Theon ❄️

-> This will include headcanons about all Starks, but focus on these three dorks towards the end.

A/N: There's an utter lack of for our Kings of the North and Kraken, so this is my attempt to add to it. These might be a bit lengthy.

Here's the general dynamic of you, Robb, Jon, and Theon. I put in Hogwarts House Terms, but I in no way support JK Rowling.

Robb - Gryffindor

Jon - Hufflepuff

Theon - Slytherin

You - Ravenclaw

In the simplest terms, you hold the only brain cell.

-> Let's say you were a low-born girl on a trek to Winterfell so you could learn under Maester Luwin. You were a rare kind of low-born who knew how to read, and you wanted to learn more. Your parents didn't approve and tried to sell you off, so you ran away with a small travel sack of your journal, clothes, and some food. You cut your hair and wore breeches to look like a boy.

-> It took many days and nights, but you eventually made it to Winterfell and refused to leave until you met with Lord Eddard Stark. Needless to say, ol' Ned Stark was shocked to find the person demanding his presence was a four-foot-tall dirty child with feet caked in mud and steely eyes. He asked if something happened to your family and you immediately deeply bowed and asked if you could learn under Maester Luwin before fainting from a high fever.

-> While treating you and finding out that you were a girl, Luwin looked through your tiny journal and was shocked to find you knew your letters and could write better than his lord's children and ward. He read the passages you wrote while traveling. You drew pictures of different plants and animals and wrote your observations of them. Luwin decided right then and there that he would take you in as an apprentice. When you woke up, he told you the good news, and you were so happy you jumped in the air with a loud "WHOOP" before tackling the old man down with a hug.

-> Ned was a bit unsure, but he trusted Luwin's judgment. If his oldest advisor told him that he believed that you had great potential as a scholar, he believed him. When you were brought over to meet Lord and Lady Stark, you were shocked at how tall and imposing Ned looked. "ARE YOU A GIANT? DO YOU OWN THIS CASTLE?" were your first words to the man as a huge smile spread across your face. After being shocked for a few moments, Ned threw his head back and laughed harder than he had in ages. He patted your head and ruffled your hair. "No child, I'm no giant. But I am the lord of this castle, and your lord, too."

-> Catelyn was much more skeptical because what kind of low-born child learned how to read? When she led you to your new chambers, she asked you this, and you proudly answered her. "I taught myself! There was a traveler passing through my village one day, and I nicked his books and charcoal!" At her horrified expression, you made sure to clarify that he was already dead and you didn't take his money. That didn't really calm her down, but her husband already decided to let Luwin take you in as an apprentice, so you might as well learn how to dress and speak like a lady.

-> Jon was the first Stark child you befriended. Luwin ordered you to take a break from your lessons since you've been holed up reading and writing nonstop. You found him practicing alone in the courtyard, hitting a training dummy with a wooden sword. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" you shouted to him. Your voice startled him so much that he dropped his sword to the ground and jumped like three feet into the air. "I'm training," he answered, and when you asked if you could stay and watch, he agreed. He was shy at first, but you and he built a quick and strong friendship after a couple more times you watched him train. There would be times you convinced him to take a break from his training, and you two would explore Winterfell's nooks and crannies. Jon didn't expect to like you so quickly, but you made it too easy.

-> Strangely enough, Theon was the second boy of the trio you would meet and befriend. It didn't go as smoothly as you meeting Jon. Theon thought you were one of the new maids-in-training and decided to tease you by tugging your hair and trying to scare you with stories about his Ironborn family coming to raid and burn keeps and steal rude pretty little girls. You just shrugged and told him, "I'll just cut my hair and pretend to be a boy. I'll even not bathe to smell like one - not the first time I did that." You then asked him if he knew more stories about mermaids and if Nagga's bones really made up the Grey King's Hall on Old Wyk. From there on, it became very noticeable to everyone that although Theon was Robb's shadow, he was only really soft with you.

-> Robb was the last to meet you. His mother didn't like the idea of her son meeting and befriending a low-born girl. But one day, he got hurt and went to visit Luwin. Imagine his surprise to see a girl his age sitting with Luwin as she read from books too hard for him to read. Luwin introduced the two of you, and you asked if you could help treat Robb this time since you felt ready. Very quickly, you treated his wounds. From then on, Robb would see you before seeing Luwin. He liked how close you got when you told him what you've learned under Luwin. He liked being close enough to you that he could smell your hair. It upset him to know that Theon and Jon knew about you before he did, but his ire quickly went away when you agreed to be his friend.

-> Ever since you began your lessons under Septa Mordane, you learned the benefits of knowing your stitches since you could use this skill to treat wounds and lower the risk of infection. You didn't care so much as the other stuff, but you quickly learned the most complicated and intricate stitches, which got the septa's approval. Whenever you had time to play with the boys again, you would always carry some needle and thread with you. You'd also carry boiled vinegar if you needed a disinfectant and a balm for wound care. This proved to be EXTREMELY useful as you four continued to play and grow older.

-> Because you were learning lessons under Luwin and the septa, you had to learn how to stitch, dress, act, and talk like a lady. Lady Stark grew very fond of you, as you were surprisingly complacent and took to acting more ladylike very quickly. This was not going unnoticed by the boys, and soon, it was very quickly becoming apparent to everyone but you that the three eldest boys of Winterfell were utterly besotted with you. At this point, Luwin thought you were like a daughter and his family. He loved you very much and warned you to be careful around your friends. He encouraged you to spend more time with Sansa, Arya, and other girls your age.

-> It frustrated you, but you still listened. You didn't know what the fuss was all about. Theon, Robb, Jon, and you were friends. Yep. Just friends. No hormonal teenage feelings emerging.

-> When Bran and Rickon were old enough, you quickly became as involved in their lessons as Luwin had been for the boys. You made their lessons fun and memorable for the young boys. Luwin looks at you with so much love and pride when the boys tell him about your lessons and how happy and excited they always act whenever you teach them something new. You've even made sums and history seem fun! You were also very involved with Sansa and Arya's education. They had Septa Morgane, but they also wanted to learn under you, and before you knew it, you were teaching four children - all younger than you.

-> Rickon and Arya absolutely worshiped you. You always had time to play with Rickon and never sent him away if you were busy like his mother and father had to sometimes. For Arya, she loved how you never thought her strange and weird for being so different from Sansa. These two followed you like ducklings whenever they had free time. The sight greatly amused Ned and Catelyn, as they thought it was the funniest thing to see how two young wolves are so dedicated to following you. And you being close doesn't go unnoticed by the boys.

-> Robb and Jon would stare at you with so much longing whenever you carried Rickon in your arms and sang him lullabies. They'd grow stupidly jealous that you could kiss Rickon and Bran's cheeks and foreheads to wish them goodnight or ease their pains if they tripped or fell. They would fantasize what their lives would be like if they could court you and take you as their wife. But it could never be.

-> Robb must marry a highborn noble lady as his father's heir to continue House Stark's legacy and ensure the North's safety. He knew this fact his whole life, but knowing that you couldn't be the one he took as a wife hurt him so much. To him, you embodied all the necessary qualities to be a Lady Stark: your kindness, beauty, wit, and intellect—just to name a few. Robb would try to impress you by escorting you to feasts held in the Great Hall and remaining by your side to joke and dance with you. After every dance, he'd take your hand and lay a gentle kiss on it as you would laugh and playfully shove him. Sometimes, when the feasts got too noisy and loud, he and you would sneak to just hang out in the kitchens. He would always get a stern talking-to with his mother for not talking with other ladies, but he only wanted you. Besides, how could he regret spending the entire feast beside you with your body pressed so close to his?

-> Growing up with Jon, you obviously knew about his bastard status. But you always told him that his name "Snow" didn't matter because he was among the most wonderful and sweetest people you've ever met. Sometimes, you'd successfully manage to take his mind off it, but there were days when it felt like the entire world was staring at him for it. Either Lady Catelyn said something very cruel and hurtful to him, or Theon poked too much fun at him. On these days, you'd take a few pastries or fruits from the kitchens that you stole, grab his hand, and hide away in the Godswoods. You would share your treats and talk about everything you've learned under Luwin. Sometimes, you'd have a book with you and read him your favorite stories about magic and dragons until the sun goes down. Jon won't really have much to say. He'll nod and smile and laugh, and sometimes he'll sneak glances and wonder how could someone look so beautiful and perfect in the sunset?

-> Theon decided it was better to go about the Ironborn way and "steal" you from whatever you were doing or whomever you were with. He'd go get you whenever you were with Septa Mordane and say that Luwin had called for you or if one of the younger Starks was asking about you. He'd get you out, and two seconds later, he and you were taking walks in Winter Town and goofing off. He'd also pull some dumb teenage boy pranks to get your attention. He'd tease you by asking you questions when you're off guard and make you say embarrassing answers. When you finally realize what you said, you would get insanely flustered and whack him while he laughs. But unlike with others, he'll actually apologize to you and make it up to you by showing you how to shoot an arrow. But honestly, it's just an excuse for him to get close to you. He likes to "help" by positioning your arm and standing extra close.

A/N: I got tons more planned but I didn't want to make it too long! But please comment or reblog to let me know what you think or if you have ideas you want to drop in my ask box!

#robb stark x reader #jon snow x reader #theon greyjoy x reader #got x reader #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones imagines #a song of ice and fire #game of thrones #robb stark imagine #jon snow imagine #theon greyjoy imagine

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ac3may · 8 months

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“ the wag diaries ”

How You Met

~ Alessia Russo ~

~~~~~~~~~~

Alessia would never make any claim to know anything about ice hockey before she met you

but if interrogated she couldn't deny that Y/N L/N was a prominent face in her mind since she was a teen

most people had only recently began to recognise you with your increasing sponsorships

Alessia however had known of you from your college days

she had been dragged to a UNC friends hometown in Minnesota where she attended her first ever ice hockey game

it was an unfamiliar sport to the Brit, the violence definitely shocked her

she thought football was physical enough

number 23 immediately drew her attention though

the way she managed to dominate the rink while still gliding so gracefully was addicting

it wasn't until four years later when your face was plastered across all the sporting outlets that Alessia was reminded just how attractive she found the sport

or maybe it really was just you

the next time you crossed Alessia’s path you were a lot more physical, a lot more real, and a lot more directly in front of her

both being sponsored by Beats by Dre you had been invited to their rooftop event in LA, launching a new product

laying eyes on the blonde from across the dance floor you knew immediately you had to meet her

approaching her at the bar it was evident that she was shocked to see you

although that did nothing but spur your ego

the cocky glint appearing in your eye only attracted Alessia more

"hey, pretty lady. any chance I can interest you in drink? some company perhaps?”

"well I'm pretty sure it's an open bar, so drinks are free"

*eyes widen in rejection*

*she touches your arm*

she TOUCHES your arm!!

"but I could do with some company"

you then spend the following many drinks sat a little too close to be friendly

talking, giggling, and flirting around the fire pit

within an hour the pair of you had abandoned the groups you arrived with and tumbled into whoever's hotel room was closest

the following morning of room service in bed and further extra-circicular activities had Alessia thinking maybe something more would come

but after watching your broad shoulders walk away from her, freshly showered back buried in her duvet, there was no contact to follow

after several months of teasing from Ella about her new interest in hockey you appeared again

you had been visiting England to complete several press and media requirements, one of which being a photoshoot campaign with Beats

grumbling to your best friend and manager after a long train ride and cramped Uber to the studio in Manchester the last person you expected to be faced with was Alessia

not learning her lesson, again Alessia ended up in the same bed as you by the end of the night

as well as a supply closet, restaurant bathroom and hotel pool before that

this time though she was the one to walk away, and not without the promise of a regular arrangement

you were by no means in a relationship

but every time you were in the same country you sought each other out

neither of you had time for that anyway

a year later when Alessia joined her team in the Euros final you made the decision to fly out and surprise her in the stands

As soon as she made eye contact with you Alessia lost all interest in the impending afterparty

staying only as long as was polite before dragging you off to yet another hotel room

You were more than happy to accommodate her wishes though

the entire trip being made to celebrate her achievements in the first place

Alessia is demanding in physically wrapping your arms around her naked body when you try to stand and leave

on the high of the win she is extra confident

and the exhaustion catching up to her reigns her filterless

"why do you always leave me, am I just a warm body to you?"

*you gape, too stunned to speak*

*her pout is dramatically adorable*

"Alessia you are SO much more than a warm body to me! how could you even think that?!"

holding her tighter in your arms you listen as she explains her insecurity

all the while she played with your tangled fingers, resting on her stomach

hearing her out you admitted your intimidation of her being too good for you

the simple solution, that pleased both of you, came when she finally asked you to be her girlfriend

of course you agreed immediately

sealing it with a kiss

~~~~~~~~~~

Okay, question for anyone enjoying/invested in the wag diaries. Does anyone have suggestions for different nicknames we could maybe call the “characters”? I feel like mixing all the Y/N’s is already getting pretty confusing….

#ace writes stuff #wag diaries #alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo blurb #arsenal women #lionesses #woso blurb #woso x reader

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bradshawsbitch · 1 year

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𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲, 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞

pairing: nick goose bradshaw x reader

nick has been away from home for a while, and receives a very warm welcome home from you.

warnings; smut 18+ only, afab!reader, dry sex, cum play, silly goose (i love him), tit worship

word count; 1.8K

disclaimer; I heard the sentence 'I'd be happy to find a girl and talk dirty to her' and went (absolutely feral) with it!

tagging for funsies; @fandomxpreferences @jupitercomet @roosterforme @roleycoleyreccenter

Soft, warm sunlight flitted in through opened windows. The rustic kitchen was bathed in an orange glow, as you moved across wooden floors. The long day had finally started to fade to evening, and the cooler air felt welcome on your skin.

It had been an unusually hot day, and your body was only covered by a plain black, ribbed leotard. You knew it was your boyfriend's favorite, in part because ‘it shows off the girls, honey!’ and in part because ‘your hips and thighs in those high cuts makes a man want to do sinful things’. Goose’s words, verbatim.

Sighing sadly, the longing seemed to be reverberating deep within your bones. Nick had only been away for a couple of days for some stint with Mav, but God you missed him already. You knew he wouldn’t have access to a phone, and he’d been unsure of when he’d been able to come home to you.

So you spent the days trying to keep occupied, helping the sweet old lady next door with her gardening and keeping her company for a cup of coffee as she told you scandalously about the other old woman down the street. Her son had been caught for tax fraud, apparently.

After assuring her Nick paid all his taxes, and promising to spread the gossip along to your boyfriend (he had unfortunately become old Mrs. Baxter’s favorite gossip partner after he had whole-heartedly engaged in a 30 minute conversation, being just the right amount of outraged, according to Mrs. Baxter), you had headed home with a smile on your face. Which was how you found yourself getting some chores done, washing up the dishes you’d left since yesterday, de-cluttering and vacuuming (which was when you rid yourself of your jean shorts).

A glass of water in hand, you heaved a deep sigh as you glanced through the open window, the curtains fluttering slightly with the breeze. Distantly, you could hear a car approaching, not thinking much of it until you heard it come to a stop, and the distinct sound of a door slamming shut. You barely had time to put your glass down before you heard Nick’s tell-tale happy-noise, something that had bewildered you at first, but now only warmed your heart and put a big grin on your face.

“Goose!” you’d run towards the front door, and sure enough, the vision of your tall, hawaiian shirt clad man stood before you.

“Aw, fuck, honey!” Nick’s beautiful brown eyes looked almost pained as they roamed over your body. “You know what this does to a man,” a giggle fell from your lips as Goose unceremoniously dropped his duffle bag to his feet before moving over to you - that small mischievous smirk you loved so much adorning his lips. His knuckles trailed down your bare arm as you tilted your head up to look at him.

“Mm, what does it do, Nicky?” another weakness of his. He’d told you in his sternest voice that this weakness was strictly classified Honey knowledge only. A soft groan left Goose at your soft tone, eyes playful as you leaned into his touch.

“Honeyy,” there was definitely a whine in there somewhere “it drives a man insane!” he grinned as he drew another soft giggle from you, the hand that was not trailing up and down your arm now coming to grab at your waist, large palm splayed over the fabric. Leaning up, you couldn’t resist claiming his lips with yours, having longed to feel them pressed against yours for too long.

“Missed you, Nicky,” your breathless whine had Goose tightening his hold on you, arms winding around your midsection to keep you pressed to his chest as his lips strayed from your lips to your jawline, leaving a trail down to your clavicle.

“Hi, girls,” the relieved tone as Nick palmed at your tits had you balking before you swiftly landed a soft slap to his shoulder “Goose!” he chuckled but didn’t stop his ministrations, kneading the soft flesh and sporadically pinching your nipples through the thin fabric. Letting your head tip back, a soft moan flew past parted lips.

“I could tell they missed me, honey… had to check up on ‘em,” Nick murmured teasingly against your neck. For a moment, you thought a scoff might make its appearance from you, but Goose chose that moment to latch on to the soft and sensitive flesh below your ear, right as he rolled your nipple between skilled fingers - which turned the scoff into a loud and needy moan instead.

“Atta honey.. so good for me,” hushed voice, husky in your ear had your eyelids fluttering shut as Goose started leading you towards the sofa. He stalled for a moment, letting brown eyes search yours, a thoughtful look upon his features before he decided “Honey, I’m gonna disconnect the phone.” laughter rang out in the glowing red light of your living room, and Goose smirked as he made his way towards your phone.

The swiftness with which your boyfriend lost his jeans and button-up on his way back to you was astounding, only leaving your touch for a moment or two before his arms embraced you again. Turning the two of you, he nudged a knee in between your thighs to spread them before he sat down, bringing you with him to straddle his lap.

Goose was now only clad in a loose fitting pair of boxers, which you noticed were already tenting. As he slowly grabbed your hips and fully lowered you onto his lap, you gasped softly at the feel of his hard length against your core - arousal flooding your very being from the way he held you. Rolling your hips experimentally resulted in a low groan from your boyfriend, his fingers tightening their hold on you.

Labored and shallow breathing echoed through the otherwise silent house, Goose’s hands now guiding and grinding you down on his now rock hard cock. Your hands gripped at broad shoulders, forehead falling down to rest against Nicks, lips chasing his as they met in an open mouthed frenzy.

“Nicky!” you whimpered out as the head of his cock strained against his boxers, hard against the opening of your clothed core, where he ground hard trying to seek the pleasure of your welcoming heat.

“S’okay honey, Nicky’s got you babe, I’m here,” his voice was strained from the way your cunt tried in vain to clench around him, his tip just reaching deep enough to feel your attempts at getting him deeper despite the barrier of your clothes. Bringing his arms around your back, he guided your head to his shoulder, his lips pressing into your hot skin as his palm splayed over your lower back and ass. Rutting up into you, he pressed you down at the same time as his grip on your hip guided you against his length.

“Feel so fuckin’ good, darlin’” his moan caressed your skin, the thickness of his length now adding delicious pressure to your clit. Glancing between your bodies, you saw the bulge of his tip in his boxers, and the wet patch that had spread across it. A loud, needy moan fell from you, and you were grasping at Goose’s neck now, desperately needing to feel him closer.

“Need you, Goose– please, need you,” whimpering, you ground more desperately into him now, hips rolling down hard to feel more of him.

“Shh, honey, we ain’t in a rush,” strong hands stilled your hips, gently detaching you from where you sat leaned on his chest. Soft lips pressed against yours, and you needily tried to deepen it, nipping at his lower lip, desperate to feel his tongue on you.

“Baby…” his tone was warning, but his touch soft as he splayed one hand on your sternum, the other guiding your arms away from his neck. He guided your hands so they were grasping behind you at his knees, his palm pressing your chest away from him.

“Fuck, honey…” Goose groaned low in his throat, the sound emitting a whimper from you, brows knitted together as you hesitantly tried canting your hips in your new position. “That’s it honey, fuck yourself on my cock, needy little thing,” you knew Nick liked talking dirty, but this had your mouth falling open, head falling backwards as you kept your pace - again and again dragging your cunt along Goose’s length.

Reaching down, Nick grabbed at his clothed cock, guiding it to put pressure on your clit before slipping it towards your entrance, bucking slightly as he found it. The knuckle of his thumb dragged against your clit as he rubbed his straining head as far as it could go into you, desperate and high pitched moans leaving you as he started moving his thumb slightly.

“Please, Nicky!” Goose only groaned, using his forefinger to slip the wet material of your body to the side, fucking his cock just a little deeper into your sensitive hole. Brown eyes had been transfixed on your cunt, but now roamed your body on display for him, landing on your heaving chest, eliciting another deep moan from your lover.

Reaching up, he swiftly yanked the straps down to free your breasts, hands and mouth latching on to them as you continued rocking against him. Warm tongue and rough mustache created an overwhelming sensation as Nick suckled at your nipple, palming roughly at your other breast.

“O-oh, Nick - I’m–” your orgasm built fast, and had snuck up on you as Goose loved your body.

“Give it to me, baby, let me have it,” Goose grunted against your tits, and it was all the encouragement you needed as you cried out, hips rutting faster to get you there.

“Oh, I’m gonna cum so hard on your cock, Nicky” you knew your boyfriend liked it when you talked dirty back to him, and the moan he released at your words was enough to send you hurtling over the edge, a blinding orgasm having you mindlessly moaning, thighs quivering on either side of your boyfriends’, only vaguely aware of Nick’s hands palming hard at your tits.

Harsh breaths and grunts met your ears as you came down slightly from your high, and looking down between your bodies, Nick’s straining cock appeared and disappeared between your folds as Goose fucked into you. Moaning softly at the sight, you let your hands leave their place to tangle into the short hair at the nape of your boyfriend's neck as you whimpered “Coat me with your cum, Goose,”. Whilst you weren’t as well versed in dirty talk as your boyfriend it seemed to work as Goose came hard with a long moan, his white spend spreading and leaking out of his boxers and on to your swollen clit.

Lazily, he rutted his hips, spreading his cum over your pussy, drawing soft moans from you as his lips found yours in soft kisses. Chests heaving, you let your fingers card through his blonde hair, as warmth filled your chest.

“Welcome home, stud,” Goose smiled against your lips as he held you close to his chest again.

“And what a welcome it was, honey!”

#nick bradshaw x reader #nick goose bradshaw x reader #nick bradshaw smut #nick bradshaw x you #nick bradshaw imagine #my writing #smut

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harwinsgirl · 1 year

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Healing - Aemond Targaryen x Reader

After Aemond is injured during a jousting tournament, you have been selected to tend to his wounds. The prince is not prepared to awaken to a feisty, unknown woman in his chambers who claims she’s there to care for him.

(Listen, Ser Harwin still owns my heart but this devilish war criminal has been plaguing my thoughts. I must banish him with a fic. Since some of you have asked to be tagged in Harwin fics I’m not gonna tag anyone here since it’s Aemond but please feel free to let me know if that’s something you’re interested in for the future! Some slight angst and fluff, tw for some brief trauma mentioned by the reader)

Prince Aemond had just beaten his twelfth jousting opponent in his father’s nameday tourney and he hadn’t even broken a sweat.

Despite his prowess, he did not have the same reputation for celebrating that his uncle was known for. It was common knowledge that the Prince felt that these events were beneath him and were a waste of his time. However, every now and again he would be persuaded to participate. The silver haired prince would defeat his challengers with speed and efficiency, earning raucous roars from the crowd each time a young knight or lord fell flat on his back.

The men that were pitted against him were of little consequence to him. All from lesser houses, just serving as entertainment to King Viserys amongst the other events and festivities. Aemond would resent being subjected to playing such a role as well, but would never say anything to confirm his feelings. Truthfully, his scowl said enough.

Over the loud cheering from the crowd, the prince could not hear his opponent stirring from his place on the dirt track. Aemond had approached the booth where his family was sitting. His father was grinning and clapping while his mother had a joyful smile of her own. Only when he acted the part of the good son did he receive such affection from his parents. Bowing politely, Aemond willed away the feeling of acid in his stomach and plastered on a smile as well.

And then he felt a sting.

The young lord has stumbled forward and drew his sword up the prince’s back, cutting at the tunic that peeked from under his armor. The sword continued its path and left a noticeable scratch on Aemond’s cheek.

The arena was stunned into silence. The king’s voice boomed and filled the air, demanding the boy drop his sword and back away from the prince. Aemond turned swiftly on his heel and clicked his tongue in disapproval, watching as the heir to House Jhorr lost his nerve, his posture folding as he cowered in fear. Whatever anger that had driven the poor soul to attack him had subsided.

“Pick up your sword boy.” Aemond demanded.

“Please, your grace! Forgive my actions.” Lowering his voice, the sandy haired boy trusted the prince with more knowledge. “My betrothed sits amongst the spectators today. I was embarrassed that I lost. I treated you like a brother and not my lord prince. I am dreadfully sorry.”

Aemond couldn’t help but glance over at the area where the boy’s eyes were hovering. A beautiful blonde lady was clutching her chest, panic marring her graceful features.

Too many people thought the prince was a monster already, with his jagged scar peeking from under his eyepatch. Too many men whispered about him in the corridors, too many ladies cast their eyes down when he walked by, too many children gasped and hid their faces in their mothers dresses.

He was not about to prove their suspicions right.

A handful of the kingsguard interrupted his conversation, scooping the boy up by his arms and holding him in place.

“Please.” The boy whimpered.

Aemond closed his eyes and shook his head, mainly at himself. It would be completely justified if he slashed the young lad’s throat in front of his father’s guests. It would be more than appropriate to have him dragged to the dungeons for further interrogation, never to see the light of day again. But he would see that woman’s face in his dreams every night, her bright eyes spilling with tears.

“All is forgiven.” Aemond said firmly. “Release him.”

The prince’s act of grace elicited gasps and murmurs from the crowd. But Aemond was having a hard time focusing, his vision growing grey and hazy with each passing moment. He saw the boy’s lips move quickly, his expression relieved and his arms animated with movement, but he could not respond.

Prince Aemond had collapsed.

Your quiet shop at the edge of King’s Landing had been invaded early in the afternoon by several members of the kingsguard, who were requesting your presence and expertise for an unnamed patient within the Red Keep. You packed several ointments and herbs with you amongst other tools that could be helpful in treating an injury or illness, for they had not told you what was afflicting this person you had been tasked with treating. You were hastily helped into a carriage that took off down the cobblestone roads as soon as the door behind you had shut.

You were a healer that operated a small business in Kings Landing. Unable to study at the Citadel and earn the title of maester due to being born a woman, you did what you could, turning an abandoned home into a place where people could seek treatment if they were unwell. Things had been relatively stable in the capital and you were very cautious with who you let through your doors. You had fled twice from other settlements when talk of witchcraft began brewing (heaven forbid a woman be knowledgeable in subjects like science and medicine). But armed guards firmly escorting you out of the premises and taking you to the royal palace was a sure sign that your activities were not as discreet as you’d hoped they had been.

Just as quickly as you’d been thrust into the carriage, silver gloves reached for you and pulled you out swiftly, placing you on the ground. You were jostled forward and forced to keep up with the fast pace of the guards who were leading you up the steps into the Keep. Without even looking at you, one of them began detailing your assignment as you marched onwards, your glass bottles rattling as they clinked together in your wicker basket.

“You are treating Prince Aemond. He suffered from several injuries that he sustained during today’s tourney. You are responsible for his care during this time.” The guard finally turned to look at you, stopping you in your tracks. “If his condition worsens, you will be at fault. Any mistreatment will be seen as treason.”

“Why are the maesters not attending to the prince?” You asked, a hint of annoyance in your voice. You couldn’t help but find it very ironic that you had been sought out to administer aid to the prince, and yet somehow weren’t fully trusted to do so.

“There is an illness that is plaguing our maesters. We cannot risk exposing the prince. And that is all you need to know on that subject.” He said gruffly.

Several flights of stairs later, you were just outside of Prince Aemond’s bedroom chamber. The guards posted outside of his doors nodded at you as they had been expecting your arrival. The door creaked open and you slipped inside.

The room was ginormous. Soft, velvet furniture adorned a sitting area that was set up around a grand fireplace. The walls were filled with overflowing bookshelves. Aemond had two desks that were scattered with papers, writing implements, and scientific tools. That area was an organized chaos, where the layout of such materials made sense only to him. The corners of your mouth twitched upwards into a smile. Your own room looked very similar in that regard.

The windows were huge, but the drapes were shut in nearly all of them, depriving the room of good lighting. You were too busy looking around and taking note of things that you almost failed to hear a pained groan come from the large bed in the middle of the room. Wisps of pale hair were peeking out from under satin sheets.

“M…m-ma…maester…M-maester Ry…Ry…” Aemond mumbled dryly.

“Do you need some water, your grace?” You asked, making your way over to his side table.

The body underneath the covers stilled. He did not recognize your voice. And your voice was that of a woman’s. The prince sat up sharply, wincing in pain immediately after he had done so.

“Who the hell are you?” He demanded, squinting at you. You paused and gave a slight curtesy before flashing a smile at him.

“I’m not here to kill you if that’s your worry,” you joked, “in fact, I’ve been contracted to do the opposite.”

“You’re a woman.” He stated plainly.

You looked at him wide-eyed, fake shock washing over your face. You slipped a finger under your gown and peeked down at your own chest.

“Good heavens, so I am.” You said in response.

Aemond had to bite his lip to suppress a smile. Who the hell were you?

“You can’t possibly be a maester.” He said, trying to keep his voice as flat as possible.

“I never claimed to be, your grace. But as luck would have it, all of your maesters are currently indisposed, fighting off some illness. So here I am, a world renowned healer in your very own chambers.” You took your eyes off him for a moment to start rummaging through your toolkit, but stopped as soon as you heard him clear his throat.

“I can’t have you tending to me, my lady.” Prince Aemond said.

“I managed to make out some details of your ordeal on my way here.” You said, ignoring his statement entirely. “Your subjects are whispering about it, your grace. Apparently you fainted after you were struck with a sword by one of your opponents?”

“I did not faint,” Aemond said bitterly, “I merely grew tired.”

“An interesting place to choose to catch up on your sleep, your grace.” You quipped.

Aemond rolled his eyes. “Despite what you may have heard, it was not as terrible as it sounds. I will rest here until one of my maesters is available and I’m sure my recovery will be quick. I’m sorry that my family troubled you. I’ll make sure you’re compensated.”

You couldn’t help but notice how hoarse his voice sounded. The idiot never took you up on your offer for water. You strode over to him and poured two glasses of water from the pitcher on his night table. You handed him one glass and downed the other, reassuring him that you had not managed to poison it in the short time you had been in his chambers.

“Let me get this straight,” you said, staring hard at the wiry prince that was still mostly covered by his bedsheets, “you’d rather die than be treated by a woman?”

“Who said anything about dying?” Aemond asked, raising his eyebrow at you.

“Any type of laceration is dangerous. You never know what sickness is waiting to take root in your blood. By dismissing me, you’re courting death.” You set the glass down on the table and sighed, shaking your head at him. “That’s too bad then. You were so young. I’ll be sure to send my condolences to the King and Queen. What color roses would you like at your funeral, your grace?”

Aemond looked at you incredulously. It was as if you had no fear. Here you were, freely discussing his death without any regard for the consequences. You could have your tongue cut out for speaking such unkind things about him. And yet, he had a feeling you would simply resort to hand gestures instead if that were the case.

“Fine,” he said, shaking his head at you. “You have ten minutes.”

“Thank you so much, your grace.” You said with an abundance of sarcasm.

With deft fingers, you went to work cleaning the scratch on his cheek and the gash that was still seeping from his back. You murmured soft words to him and rubbed his skin every time he winced or made a sound of displeasure. Despite immediately vexing you upon your arrival, you couldn’t help but feel sorry for the state the prince was in. He was undoubtably in pain. You also failed to disclose to him that what most of the gossip that you had heard on your way to his chambers was about his uncharacteristic generosity in sparing the young boy’s life. Any other man would’ve cut him down and made an example out of him.

“That lord shouldn’t have acted with such recklessness, your grace.” You said softly as you bent over the bed, hovering over him as you dabbed at his cheek. “You’re lucky the wounds are not that serious.”

“Not that serious?” Aemond said, taking the rag from your hand as he peered into your eyes. “A moment ago you said I was at death’s door.”

You swallowed nervously. It was easy to act aloof and jest with him when you were farther apart. From this angle you couldn’t help but take in his chiseled features, the scent of evergreen that seemed to blanket his skin, and the way his chest rose and fell with each gentle breath.

“Dear, sweet healer?” Aemond pressed. He definitely noticed your eyes wandering.

“I…suppose that’s just because you have access to such wonderful care.” You said, trying your hardest to lighten the mood again and cut the growing tension.

It wasn’t working.

It’s as if Aemond was studying you now. Watching your every movement and enjoying the way you stumbled or stuttered when you caught a glimpse of his piercing gaze. You almost wondered if it would have better if he had been successful in getting rid of you.

You had nearly finished your treatment. The wounds were cleaned and properly dressed. You were in the process of giving him a once-over, checking to see if there were any marks or bruises when you noticed a red line peeking from underneath his eye patch.

“Your grace, if you would be so kind to remove your eye patch, I believe when you fell you must’ve received another injury.” You said gently.

Aemond’s mouth formed a tight line. All the playfulness that had been your doing and the thick energy that had been growing between you two seemed to vanish in an instant.

“I will not.” He said angrily.

“Your grace, I insist. It may require my attention.” You pleaded, moving to place a hand on his cheek. Aemond’s hand moved swiftly to catch your wrist before you had the chance.

“I said I will not.” He repeated, his tone still quite harsh.

You furrowed your brows in annoyance. “I am your healer. I need access to all of you. If I don’t perform proper treatment, I could be punished.”

“I am refusing this treatment.” He said lowly as he dropped your hand.

“Why?” You questioned, your hands on your hips as you stared down at him. He was no longer looking at you. You waited for a response, but Aemond continued to avoid eye contact with you.

After a moment, he cleared his throat and then looked at you again. “You may go now.”

“I will not!” You fumed, pointing your finger at him. “I need to take care of you!”

“Can you take care of this?” He bellowed, ripping the eyepatch from his face.

A dark blue sapphire rested in his eye socket. He glared at you, his chest heaving from his fury. For a moment neither of you spoke, your expression unreadable as you stared at him, the gemstone twinkling ever so slightly when sunlight hit it from a crack in the drapes.

Aemond didn’t know what to expect. You merely stood there, taking him in. Most women would’ve gasped or even screamed. Disgust would’ve been evident on their faces. And yet, you hardly had a reaction. He didn’t know if that was a comfort or not. He was about to command you to speak, but you finally addressed his outburst.

“You think the world doesn’t know about your scar?” You said quietly, your eyes never leaving his. “Prince Aemond One-Eye. You must despise that name. And yet, you hardly know how beloved you are. How people talk of your skill as a swordsman. How men lament that they will never look as handsome as you do, and will never be as well versed in histories or sciences. There are still women that would be lined up to take you as a husband if given the chance. I’ve heard children beg to be you as they play in the streets, for Prince Aemond rides the largest dragon in the world.”

Your fingers moved to the strings of your dress. Your eyes grew heavy from the tears threatening to spill from them. Slowly, you pulled at the fasteners of your garment until your dress fell from your body, revealing a large scar that ran from your hip all the way up between your breasts.

“There is no love for a peasant woman that looks like this. Every man who catches a glimpse of this ugly red mark beneath my gown turns their head in disgust. Every jagged corner of my skin reminds me of how unloved I am. Remember that, my prince, the next time you decide to wallow in self-pity.” Your voice wavering slightly, you tilted your chin up again and glared back at him. “I am very sorry you lost your eye, but you will always be a prince. You will always be loved. Others are not so fortunate.”

Aemond rose from the bed and made his way over to you. You had bent down to recover your gown but Aemond’s hands found yours. He interlocked your fingers with his, squeezing them gently in a silent plea to get you to look at him again.

“When you first came into my chambers, I wanted you to leave immediately. I did not want the burden of looking at me and tending to me to fall onto a woman. Especially one such as beautiful as you,” he murmured, tracing small circles on your palm with his thumb. “And when you asked to see under my eyepatch, I resisted. I have never met a woman who can stand the sight of it. I hide it for good reason. The ladies that you speak of who would marry me surely only would in their desire to reach a higher status. The men who admire me still would not trade their lives to live a day as me. There is a difference in being beloved and being loved as who you are. Scars have such a terrible way of alienating you from the world.”

He dropped one of your hands to place a hand gingerly on your hip, tracing the beginning of your scar lightly. “May I ask who did this to you, my lady?”

You nodded your head, blinking away stray tears. “A suitor of mine who I had rejected countless times cornered me in the gardens of his father’s estate. I told him I’d never marry a wretch like him. He told me he’d allow me to go, but that he’d bestow upon me a parting gift,” you sniffled. “So that he’d always be with me. And that no man would ever take me as his wife. I’d always be his.”

Prince Aemond was a man prone to anger. He had a low threshold for certain types of people, such as arrogant lords, fussy ladies, and the terrible excuse for a brother that Aegon was. But he especially hated abusers of women. Whoever this man was, Aemond closed his eyes and imagined horrible things happening to him. A faceless, nameless man who deserved to be roasted alive by Vhagar, flayed by menacing criminals from fleabottom, cut down limb from limb by the prince himself. He deserved a thousand deaths for ever hurting you.

“One more question, if I may,” the prince asked softly, trying to rid his head of such images. “Why did you choose this profession? Does it not cause you anguish when you think back to this event?”

“No one was there to tend my wounds. I remember the loneliness of that feeling. I never wanted anyone else to feel that way.” You admitted, looking down at the pink lines that ran across your belly. “I never wanted anyone to feel lesser for something they did not ask for, something out of their control. I’ve lived with this a long time, and I’ve loved myself fully. But sometimes it still knocks me down like a wave. It’s hard each time but I’d never choose to do anything else with my life.”

“Lay down, my lady.” Aemond commanded softly before you could speak any more.

“What?”

“If you do not wish for my affections, you may tell me so. But if you’d allow me, I’d like the chance to take care of you. You’ve already taken such good care of me.” Aemond whispered, nuzzling his face against yours. He was drawn to you, mesmerized by you. The smart, fiery woman with a heart that still needed mending. He felt the pangs of jealously stab at him when he imagined anyone else but him stepping up to that task.

“It was my job.” You said sincerely, smiling at the prince. You leaned forward and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Aemond’s eyes fluttered closed at the contact.

“You should be fully healed within a day or two. I’ve left some ointment with instructions for your servants on your study desk. I shouldn’t take up more of your precious time, your grace. Thank you for being so kind to me.”

Again, you reached for your discarded gown but Aemond reacted too quickly, scooping you in his arms and gently resting you on his bed.

“You shouldn’t be lifting anything!” You said, slightly frustrated.

“And you should allow me to compensate you in my own way.” Aemond responded, joining you on the bed.

Before you could protest, Aemond reached for the covers and pulled them up to cover the two of you. He snaked one arm underneath you and rested the other on your abdomen, gently tracing the outline of your scar.

“I will not force you into anything you wouldn’t want. And even if you had the same desires as me, I know my healer would advise me against any strenuous activity today,” Aemond said with a grin. “Allow me just to hold you, my lady.”

You gave him a perplexed look as the prince settled next to you. “I do not understand what is happening.”

“What is happening is that I am enjoying the company of a very smart woman. Who is gifted in the fields of science and medicine. Who has hair that smells of lilies and eyes that shine like the sun’s reflection on the emerald seas. A woman that entered my chambers and immediately disarmed me with her wit and personality. Who tended to my wounds with genuine care and love. A woman who is not afraid of my trauma and felt comfortable enough to share hers with me. I want you to stay. You are a fascinating creature who seems to be hellbent on capturing what is left of my heart.”

Your heart leapt at the prince’s words. Carefully, you moved to rest your head on his chest. The two of you laid still for a moment, simply resting together and enjoying the quietness of it. Absentmindedly, Aemond began playing with your hair as his eyes struggled to remain open.

“Didn’t I annoy you when I first entered?” You asked, leaning into his touch.

Aemond opened his eyes and gazed down at you. “Was that your attempt at distancing yourself from me?”

“Not at all. You were being an idiot and I responded naturally to your behavior.” You said matter of factly.

Aemond moved to hover over you, his arms planted on either side of your shoulders. “How is it that you have a penchant for saying things that if spoken by any other would have me seething with rage?”

“You’ll learn to love it.” You said cheekily.

“I’m afraid I already have,” Aemond said, placing a kiss on your forehead.

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