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fetusgooseandjuice · 7 days

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Soulmates

Pairings: Knight!Natasha Romanoff x Princess!Reader

Summary: A silly dream you and Natasha shared as kids turns out to be your destiny.

Word Count: 5.05k

Warnings: Injuries — (broken bones, cuts, bruises)

Author’s Note: Another one that’s been collecting dust. At this point I’m just deep cleaning my drafts I hope you like it 💕

Natasha and you had been raised alongside each other since birth.

As the royal heir you were born the kingdoms Princess, and would one day step up after your parents stepped down from their positions as King and Queen.

Meanwhile, once Natasha became of age her father began her training as she was meant to become the young Princesses Royal Knight.

Both of your families had always been close friends. Natasha’s father was your father’s best solider, so you and the redhead had practically grown up together.

The bond between your two families meant that you and the young knight spent a lot of time together. So much time that as you grew up, you and Natasha inevitably fell for each other and only continued to as you got older.

Your parents knew you two had something special from the gecko, but no one knew if it was just puppy love, or if it’d turn out to be the love story you’d only ever hear about in books.

That thought always took up a space in your mind, just like it was right now.

How you got so lucky to be the one in a billion to actually live one of those love stories.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Nat! Natty, wait for me!” you call out to the slightly older girl.

Natasha always teased you for being younger than her even if it was only by a few months. She stopped in her tracks and turned around, waiting a moment for you to catch up to her as your feet quickly patted against the pavement outside.

“Sorry, princess,” she gazed at you once you reached her. “I’m just really excited to see where our parents are taking us.”

Your cheeks flushed a pink tint at the pet name and your heart fluttered. People were supposed to formally address you as Princess since that’s who you were, but whenever Natasha called you that you both knew it had a different meaning.

Natasha always had such a soft spot for you. Some might call it puppy love, but both of your parents believed it was the cutest thing to ever exist.

As she had a couple inches over you, you had to latch onto her arm and lean up on your tippy-toes to peck her cheek. This time it was Natasha’s turn to blush.

“Well, now we can go down there together.” you said and gave her a sweet smile that made her heart double in beats per minute.

Both of your mothers playfully shook their heads to themselves as they made their way over to you, watching the interaction.

“She’s a smooth little girl.” Melina commented with a chuckle.

Your mother chuckled, “Yeah, I don’t know where she got that from because it definitely was not her father.”

You two on the other hand were completely oblivious of their presence as you became immersed in chasing each other around the castle garden, your loud giggles rumbling through air.

“Don’t let him hear you say that.” Melina laughed along with your mother.

The two women watched as Natasha caught up to you and pulled you into her arms. “They’re too cute.” your mother cooed and Melina nodded her head, smiling widely.

At some point Natasha had picked a yellow flower from the grass and place it in your hair with sophistication, admiring how it just accentuated your already beautiful features.

She brought you into a tight hug and dramatically pleaded, “Marry me, Y/n! Marry me so nothing will ever come between us and we can be together forever and ever!”

“Yes! A trillion times yes, Natasha! I will marry you even if it’s the last thing I do!” You theatrically declared, mimicking a woman in a television show.

Natasha pulled back and leaned in with her lips exaggeratedly puckered out way too far and cheeks puffed out so much they could’ve popped, but before she could reach yours she was lifted up into her father’s arms.

“Alright, you little player. You’re not quite ready for that one just yet.” Alexei teased the young redhead.

Natasha scoffed. “I am not a player! Y/n is my fiancé and I am going to make her my wife! I put a flower on it and everything!” she argued with a pout.

That was when your own father scooped you up into his arms and spun you around. “Aren’t you just the enchantress? You’ve got little Natasha all lovestruck and heart eyed. Poor girl.”

You giggled before you heard Natasha call out in annoyance. “I am not little!”

Amused looks spread across your mothers’ faces at the precious scene. At the time, no one knew that your’ and Natasha’s pretend was destined to become a reality.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

(Time jump to around 11 years old)

“Nat, are you sure you know we’re you’re going?” you asked, hesitation evident in your voice as she guided you by your hand through the trees.

This would be the third time you asked her this question, so she playfully rolled her eyes at your uncertainty.

“Yes, Y/n, I come here all the time after training. Stop worrying your pretty little head so much, you’ll give yourself a headache.” Natasha assured.

Normally her sweet talk would have you swooning, but this time you were too distracted by the uneasiness you felt about where you were. Natasha had dragged you out to the forest behind the kingdom, saying she had something special that she wanted you to see.

You two had snuck away when your parents were busy, so no one even knew where you were, but you of course agreed because you trust the redhead with everything you have.

“Okay, we’re here.” Natasha’s voice brought you out of your thoughts.

You looked around in confusion, seeing nothing besides an abnormally large tree.

“What is it that you wanted to show me?” you finally spoke.

The young knight chuckled at your slightly furrowed eyebrows, “Follow me.” was all she said before beginning to climb up the tall tree.

“What— Natasha what’re you doing?”

“Come on, this is the only way you’ll see it.” she attempted to encourage you.

You were still very unsure about it so you just watched from the ground as she made her way up the tree. She eventually stopped and made herself comfortable on one of the limbs. “I don’t think this is a good idea.” you projected your voice up to her.

“Come on, Y/n, trust me! The view is beautiful from up here. It’s like you can the whole world!” Natasha called down to you.

You contemplated once more before finally giving in. You followed the path you had watched the redhead take and began climbing the tree. However, you had only made it about halfway when a branch you had grabbed onto began to snap.

Before you could even yell for Natasha like you had originally intended, the branch snapped completely and you yelped instead as you fell.

Your mind had barely registered the young knight calling out your name when you hit the ground. The air was knocked out of your lungs, but you noticed the sharp pain that shot up your arm the most.

“Y/n!” Natasha panicked, and when she heard you cry out tears she quickly made her way down to you.

The words to ask you what was hurting were on the tip of her tongue, but that question was answered when she saw you holding your arm and a few scratches on the side of your face.

Natasha didn’t know what to do.

You were sobbing and clearly in a lot of pain, so she lifted you into her arms bridal style and ran as fast as her legs would take her back to the kingdom without causing you any further discomfort.

Ignoring all the looks from passing townspeople, she bolted up the castle stairs and rushed inside.

“Mom! Mom, dad, where are you! Mom!” Natasha frantically searched every room for either of your parents.

They must’ve heard her shouting because they exited the meeting room and saw the young knight running straight towards them with you crying in her arms.

“Natasha, what happened?” Melina asked her daughter with furrowed eyebrows.

“I wanted to show Y/n this really nice view, but we had to climb a tree in order to see it. She didn’t even want to do it in the first place but I convinced her to, and she fell and I think she hurt her arm.” Natasha explained to the four adults as your father gently took you into his arms.

She began to tear up and followed them to the infirmary, “I— I just wanted to show her something I thought she’d like. I didn’t mean for this to happen, I didn’t mean for her to get hurt.”

Your mother placed a comforting hand on the young girls shoulder to get her attention, “It’s okay, Natasha. We know you’d never put her in harms way on purpose, but you did good bringing her back because now we can help her.”

Natasha wiped away the tears in her eyes, although it was no use because more began to fall anyway, “It’s all my fault, I’m the one who took her out there to begin with. She’d be okay if it weren’t for me.”

“Now, now, Natasha. Stop being so hard on yourself. I’m sure Y/n won’t blame you once she’s all patched up.” Your mother reassured, and she was right.

A couple hours later your parents informed the young redhead and her parents of your condition. The force of the impact when you hit the ground had broken your arm, and you had a few light scratches on your cheek that should quickly fade.

The doctor gave your parents some medication to help with any pain you had, and allowed them to take you back to your own bedroom. When Natasha was asked if she would like to see you she of course said yes, but couldn’t ignore the nerves she felt.

Would you be upset with her?

Your mothers led Natasha to your bedroom and opened the door for her to enter, but she hesitated. She felt as though her feet were glued to the floor.

“Are you sure?” the knight in training asked. “I don’t think she’d want to see me.”

Your mother crouched down to Natasha’s height to look at her. “Can I let you in on a little secret?” she said and Natasha nodded. “Between you and me I think you’re the first person she’d wanna see.”

The young girl sat with those words for a moment longer and contemplated before finally stepping into you room. When she reached your beside she realized that you were sound asleep.

Natasha’s eyes scanned the peaceful expression on your face. Your eyelashes just barely brushed against your cheeks, and your slow breathing was heard through the quietness of the room.

Her gaze traveled down to the white cast around your arm and a sense of guilt washed over her, but she tried to disregard that feeling and just focus on you.

She noticed a lock of hair that had started to fall in front of your face, so Natasha tucked it behind your ear. However, she regretted that decision when your eyes fluttered open and met hers.

Your lips pulled up into a small smile. “Hi, Natty.”

“Hey,” she practically whispered.

You frowned at her vague and quiet response. “What’s wrong?” you wondered.

Natasha sighed and let her eyes travel back to your injured arm. “I’m sorry. I should’ve listened when you said you didn’t wanna go up, and now you’re hurt because of me.”

“Hey,” you sat up and placed a hand over the young knights hand. Her heart skipped a beat at the contact and she met your gaze again. “It was an accident, Nat. I don’t blame you for this, and I’m okay now.”

“I know. I just hated seeing you in so much pain knowing I talked you into doing it.”

You looked at her with soft eyes that instantly calmed her racing mind. “Well you did carry me all the way back, so I guess that makes up for it. All of those extra hours you put into your training finally paid off.” you both giggled.

Maybe this whole situation wasn’t as bad as Natasha convinced herself it was.

“You wanna sign my cast? It looks kind of boring right now.” you asked.

Natasha smiled and nodded her head, looking around the room for something to write with. She spotted a red marker on your large dresser and grabbed it before returning to your side.

She gently took your arm into her hand and signed her name, attempting to draw a few hearts around it, but they just ended up uneven and lopsided.

Nevertheless, they were special.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

(Time jump to 16 Years Old)

“Mom!” Natasha called out as she rushed down the stairs, nearly tripping on the last step whilst she tucked her maroon button-up shirt into her black slacks. “Does this look okay? Should I try on a different one?”

Melina examined the outfit her daughter was wearing before smiling at her, “You look wonderful, sweetheart. Stop worrying so much, you’ll make yourself sick.”

“Are you wearing my pants?” Yelena said as he walked into the room alongside Alexei.

Natasha glared at her sister while slipping on the jacket and straightening out the collar of her shirt with the help of Melina.

“Your mother is right, honey. I’m sure Y/n will love it.” Alexei chimed in.

Today was your sixteenth birthday, and your parents thought it would be the perfect opportunity to throw a ball to celebrate this milestone. Everyone in the kingdom received an invitation in the mail, but the Romanoffs were obviously at the top of the guest list.

Natasha was no doubt nervous. She so badly wanted to make an impression on you, but would never admit it to avoid her family’s very unfunny jokes.

Unfortunately for her, she didn’t have to disclose that information in order for her parents and sister to know that she and the young princess always had a thing for each other, even as little kids.

“Oh, so that’s why you stole my pants.” Yelena smirked. “So you could impress your little girlfriend.” she spoke in a teasing tone.

The young knight rolled her eyes, “She is not my girlfriend.”

“Well I suggest you try to change that before someone else decides to sweep her off her feet.”

Before Natasha could retaliate Melina saved her the trouble, “Alright you two, let’s get going before we’re late.” She ushered her family out the front door and gave Natasha a reassuring squeeze to her shoulder.

People were still making their way inside when they arrived. Your parents stood at the entrance welcoming people into the castle, and their eyes lit up when they saw their most dearest friends walking up the steps.

“Melina, Alexei, Natasha, Yelena! You’re finally here, thank you for coming!” Your father greeted the family while your mother gave each of them a quick hug.

“You all look lovely tonight.” she said.

“Oh, the same goes for you two as well.” Melina returned the compliment.

Your mother looked towards Natasha, “Y/n is still in her room getting ready and should be down in just a few minutes, but you’re welcome to go find her if you’d like.”

Natasha nodded, “Thank you, Mrs. Y/l/n.” she responded before moving past them to make her way to your room.

She knocked on the door and smiled to herself when she heard your comforting voice call out.

“Just a second!”

A few moments later the door opened and you stood face to face, “Nat!” you exclaimed happily and pulled her in for a tight hug.

“Hey, birthday girl.” Natasha chuckled. “Am I interrupting anything?”

You let her go and shook your head, “Not at all. I’m just about ready anyway.” you answered and returned to your spot in front of your mirror.

Natasha migrated further into the room and rested against your bed frame. “Well, you look amazing.” she said.

You turned to look back at her with a smile on your lips, “Thanks,” you replied and took in her attire. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

The young knight smiled and looked down while you went back to fixing your hair. Natasha tried her best not to stare, but that was proving to be difficult as she kept lifting her head to glance at you.

She decided to break the comfortable silence to distract herself. “Is now a good time for me to give you your gift? I know it’s not time to open presents yet, but I think it’ll look good with your dress.”

You looked back at her again, “Nat, you didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I knew you’d say that, but I wanted to.” Natasha moved to stand behind you before meeting your eyes through the mirror.

When she pulled something out of her pocket and gently placed it around your neck, you realized that it was a necklace, the charm attached shimmering in the light.

You looked down at the piece of jewelry in awe, “Oh Nat, it’s beautiful.” you said and turned around completely to face her.

“It looks even better on you.” she flattered. You couldn’t stop your cheeks from turning a light shade of pink and Natasha grinned at the effect she had on you.

It took a moment for you to gather your composure before taking her hand in yours. “Come on, there’s an entire party downstairs and I wanna see what kind of food they have.” you both giggled as you dragged her down the stairs and to the ballroom.

Hours later the party was now in full swing. You had received happy birthday wishes from so many people you lost count, and ate so many different desserts that you’d probably have a stomachache the next day.

When people began setting down their drinks to find space to dance, Natasha looked towards you and thought she’d take the opportunity to ask you to dance with her.

“May I have—” she started to say, but was interrupted when a young boy around your age approached you.

“Um, excuse me, Princess. Would you like to dance with me?” he asked, clearly nervous considering his fidgeting hands.

As much as you wanted to decline his offer, you felt obligated to accept as you were the kingdoms princess. You looked at Natasha with an apologetic expression and told her you’d be right back before following the boy.

Anyone that looked at the redhead would be able to tell she was annoyed— it was written all over here face.

So when she made her way over to her family, Yelena raised an eyebrow. “What’s up with you?”

The young knight sighed and crossed her arms over her chest, “Someone else decided to sweep her off her feet.”

All she could do was watch as you kept getting pulled away to dance with people. Whenever a song ended and you tried to make your way back over to her, someone else was by your side asking to dance. To both of you, it felt like forever before you were finally back together.

The song came to an end you were practically speed walking to where Natasha was standing off to the side in a successful attempt to avoid getting pulled away again.

“Hey, I’m so sorry. I swear they just kept coming out of no where.” you breathed out, gulping down your glass of water to catch your breath.

Natasha smiled and shook her head, “It’s okay, is it my turn now or are you too worn out?”

You playfully rolled your eyes and laughed, “Don’t be ridiculous, Natty.” you took her hand and led her to an empty space amongst other dancing people.

Her arms encircled your waist while yours wrapped loosely around her neck. Neither of you exactly knew how to dance, so you just gently swayed with the music.

The young knight found that the annoyance she was feeling early could no longer be felt now that she finally had you. She was too happy to focus on anything except you— but there was one other thing on her mind.

“Can I ask you something?” Natasha said.

You hummed, nodding your head. “Of course, Nat.”

She sighed contently and tightened her hold on you. “I think we both know that we’ve felt something for each other that’s more than best friends, even as little kids. I mean my parents still won’t let me forget about that time I asked you to marry me when we were what? Six?” she spoke and you both laughed at the memory.

“And I did say yes. Actually, if I recall correctly I was pretty enthusiastic about it too.” you giggled.

“Yeah, you were.” Natasha grinned. “But I wanted to know if you’d maybe wanna make our relationship official. You know, so I can be the only one you dance with at parties like these.” she asked hopefully.

You looked at her with a smirk plastered across your face and raised eyebrows. “Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?”

“Well— yeah…I am.”

You smiled and laid your head on her shoulder, “I’d love nothing more, Nat.” you said and your answer brought an even bigger grin to her face.

What you didn’t know was that your mothers were watching the scene unfold from across the room, sipping on glasses of expensive wine.

Your mother playfully shook her head, “Like true soulmates.” she spoke and Melina hummed in agreement.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

(Two years later)

“Do you have to go?” you said sadly.

You stood on the dock clutching onto the young knight as if she’d disappear into thin air if you let go while she held you just as tight. Both of your families stood around talking, watching the saddening encounter.

Natasha was about to leave for her first ever commission. It was an overseas assignment for her to prove her ability to protect the kingdoms Princess, so as much as she didn’t want to leave you, she had to.

The young knight cupped the back of your head with one hand and pressed her nose into your hair, basking in the comforting scent of your shampoo to soak up her last few moments with you before her departure.

“You’ll be okay, Y/n. Three weeks, and then I’ll be back with you again.” she assured.

“Three weeks without you is too long.” you said. You and Natasha had always been inseparable, so it was hard knowing that she’d be so far away.

“I know, princess, I know.” Natasha whispered into your hair. It was only when she heard you sniffle and felt tears wetting her neck that she pulled back to look at you. “Hey,” she cooed and cupped your cheeks.

“It’ll go by so fast you won’t even remember I’m gone. Yelena promised me she’d keep you company, and she basically is me because she’s my sister, so hopefully you won’t miss me too much.”

That made a small smile pull at your lips. “No offense to Yelena, but no one could ever compare to you, Nat. I’ll miss you so much, and what if you get hurt over there?” you said.

Natasha smiled and kissed your forehead, “I’ll be okay, princess. It’ll all be okay, I promise.”

Her thumbs swiped under your eyes to wipe away your tears before she closed the distance between the two of you and connected your lips.

You both knew you had to keep it short and sweet considering both of your families were still there.

“I love you so much, Nat.” you whispered.

She gazed lovingly at you, “I love you more, my beautiful girl. So much more.” the words fell from Natasha’s lips ever so softly.

You were unfortunately brought out of your little bubble with Natasha much sooner than you would’ve liked when over her shoulder, you caught sight of Natasha’s commander walking off of the ship and towards you.

He cleared his throat, now catching everyone’s attention. “I hate to do this, but the captain’s ready. It’s time to go, romanoff.” he announced.

Your heart dropped as you’d been dreading this moment.

“Yes, sir. I’ll be just a second.” Natasha said.

He nodded his head and walked back onto the ship.

The young knight turned to you and sighed, “I guess that’s my cue.” she said and you nodded in understanding.

Natasha let go of you to approach her family, giving her parents and a hug as well as your parents. She exchanged words with them that you couldn’t really hear before making her way back over to you.

She delicately cupped your face in her hands and pressed her lips to yours once again. You both poured all of your love and passion for each other into the kiss, knowing it’d be the last one until she got back.

You pulled away and rested your forehead against hers. “See you in three weeks?”

“See you in three weeks.” she promised.

You let Natasha go and watched as she boarded. The ship departed soon after.

The castle suddenly became quieter for you with the young knight gone. You of course had to continue with your usual duties and responsibilities because life goes on, but it wasn’t the same without Natasha around.

What made it bearable was that you still had your parents to go into town with every Tuesday and visit all of your favorite spots like normal, conversing with the workers there that you’d become good friends with over the years.

Yelena kept her word and would hang out with you whenever you had free time to distract you from the thought of Natasha being overseas. Melina and Alexei were great as well and did whatever they could to help.

With all of that combined, everything turned out to be okay just like Natasha had said.

And the young knight made good of her promise to you because three weeks later, your father had knocked on your bedroom door, pulling your attention away from the book in your hands to inform you that Natasha’s ship had just returned.

You jumped out of bed so fast, not even bothering to mark your page as you rushed out of the castle and down to the docks. You probably looked like a madman with the way you were running, a huge smile plastered on your face.

But you didn’t care because you got to the docks right on time to see Natasha walking off the ship. When her eyes locked on you she grinned widely and dropped her bags to meet you halfway as you practically leaped into her arms.

~~~~~~~~

(Time jump a few years later/present day)

You turned off the faucet and shook your hands to rid them of dripping water before drying them completely with the hand towel hung on the wall. A gentle smile sat on your lips, one that hasn’t left your face since the night began.

It was the day that you could only dream of as a little kid.

Literally.

You opened the bathroom door and started to walk out, wanting to get back to the after-party before you missed out on too much of this important night when you felt a gentle grip on your wrist.

Whoever grabbed you had pulled you back into them so your back was against their front, but you didn’t panic too much because you immediately recognized the familiar cologne of your wife whom you just tied the knot with merely a couple hours ago.

She wrapped her arms arms around your torso and pressed a feather light kiss to your neck. “There you are, my love. I lost you there for a moment, I missed you.”

You giggled as her breath tickled your neck. “I was only gone for a few minutes, Nat.”

“A few minutes too long. But now that I found you, I can have a moment with you alone before we go back to everyone.”

You hummed and relaxed back into her, letting out a content sigh as you admired the shining ring that Natasha had slid onto your finger after vowing to you that she would spend the rest of her life by your side.

That this was forever like it was always meant to be.

“I can’t believe we’re actually married.” you whispered out.

Natasha smiled against you. “I know, it feels so surreal. Six year old me would be over the moon right now.”

You both laughed at that. It probably was true.

“You know our moms always called us soulmates.” Natasha said as she reached to take your left hand into hers, staring at the ring and smiling to herself at the memories coming back to her.

“Yeah,” you giggled, “They were right though, weren’t they?”

The redhead sighed happily, “They were.”

You two basked in each other’s presence in silence for a moment as Natasha pressed small kisses to any part of your skin she could reach. You giggled whenever her lips touched a ticklish spot.

“We should probably go back out there now. Before people start thinking we abandoned our own wedding.” you joked.

Natasha chuckled, though continuing her ministrations, “We can spare a few more minutes, right?”

You playfully rolled your eyes, “No, we cannot. Because you’re going to get carried away and then we’re going to actually abandon our own wedding.”

The redhead groaned when you began pulling away from her, but you made it up to her by pressing a kiss to her lips which seemed to satisfy her for now before taking her hand and leading her back to the after-party.

“There you guys are!” Yelena said once she saw the two of you, “We’ve been looking for you. It’s time for your guy’s first dance.”

She dragged you both over to your parents where they were waiting.

You couldn’t help the smile that seemed to take over your face.

Everything was perfect as can be, and now you get to enjoy it all with your soulmate.

~ end ~

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chloeseyeliner · 2 months

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i miss my best friend so much that it's like a part of my heart is gone every moment we spend apart and comes back to me whenever we meet.

#i tell her so on occasion #but i don't know if i am being weird about it so i try to be less 'clingy' or anything #despite the fact that she is not that kind of person #and is actually the one who 'taught' me how to express my feelings more #we haven't seen each other since some days before new year's day #because we've been busy with uni and work/applications blah blah and we live in different cities #and we were going to watch young royals together but things happened and we cannot #so if it's possible we are going to watch either the first or the last episode + documentary through videocall #and i really hope it is #we talk every day through texts #but i miss her. i love her so much #and that's why i think platonic love is so freaking strong #anyway #just wanted to put that out there #hehe #best friends #maria's random thoughts #platonic love

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enveine · 4 months

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when doves cry - s. clegane: chapter one (pilot)

pairing: sandor clegane x f!eldest stark reader summary: your loyalty to your family is unwavering, a steadfast commitment that defines your character. however, navigating the turbulent waters of newfound, intense emotions for a man devoted to a family starkly opposed to your own will challenge the foundations of this loyalty. as you stand on the precipice of conflicting allegiances, the question looms: what sacrifices would you make in the name of love? rating: 18+ word count: 4.4k chapter warnings: smut, "we just met but I want to fuck you", kinda ooc sandor, language, story loosely follows the timeline of S1, semi-public sex- very risky, rough sex, reader probably cares more about what's happening then sandor does, hickeys in hidden places, unprotected piv sex, angst, "we just fucked and now we're practically going to be living together".

spotify playlist | pinterest board | ao3 version

The great hall of Winterfell buzzed with activity as the Stark family prepared for the arrival of King Robert Baratheon and his entourage. You were the eldest daughter of Ned and Catelyn Stark, so you knew all eyes were going to be on you; a young woman of noble birth, at an age desperate to be married well. You moved gracefully through the throngs of people, your eyes keenly observing the bustling preparations. You wore a simple but elegant gown, the Stark colors proudly displayed.

A little nervous, to be expected. Nothing a little ride couldn’t fix.

On the way back, you noticed that winter truly had begun its descent upon the land, the air frigid and the wind mighty. The crunch of snow beneath the hooves of your horse echoed through the trees as you headed back towards Winterfell. You were eager to greet the royal party.

As you approached the stable, you hear the unmistakable clatter of hooves against the cobblestone. The royal retinue had arrived. Intrigued, you watch closely to see the beautiful ocean of golden banners, curiosity piqued by the impending arrival of the king.

The gate swung open, revealing the group of visitors. Your gaze was drawn to a towering figure at the back of the party. A man of imposing stature, his face hidden beneath a twisted helm, and clad in dark, rugged armor. He radiated an air of danger that made the other courtiers instinctively give him a wide berth.

Still mounted, you took a step back, closer to your direwolf Nyx. You watched him with a curious gaze. As he sat there, a silent sentinel also mounted upon his horse, you felt a shiver run down your spine as his gaze met your own.

"Who's that?" you inquired, directing the question to a nearby stable boy.

The boy hesitated before answering, "That's the Hound, my Lady. Sandor Clegane, the King's dog."

You clicked your tongue, “King’s dog, huh?” a small laugh, “Interesting title.”

You watched as the man dismounted, your eyes narrowing with interest. He moved with a certain controlled grace, his movements deliberate and purposeful. An unexpected shiver ran down your spine as you observed the mysterious figure. There was something about him that defied the norms of courtly behavior, an untamed quality that set him apart. In a sea of polished knights and well-mannered courtiers, he was a dark anomaly.

You couldn't help but be intrigued by the mysterious figure. Your eyes lingered on him, studying the scars that marred his face. There was a hardness in his gaze that suggested a life of brutality, yet you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the man beneath the armor.

Your eyes met for the briefest moment, a flicker of connection that sent a jolt through your spine. Quickly averting her gaze, you tried ignoring the heart pounding feeling in her chest. The Hound continued on, seemingly indifferent to the glances and whispers that followed him. After his eyes left yours, you couldn’t help but watch his every move again. That man, Sandor Clegane, he was beautiful.

And he was coming right towards you.

As you dismounted her horse, the Hound's attention shifted briefly to her. You felt a twinge of discomfort under his scrutinizing gaze, but being the strong-minded Stark you were, held your ground. Nyx, ever vigilant, growled softly at the Hound, who merely raised an eyebrow in response.

"You a Stark girl?" he grumbled, his voice rough and devoid of warmth.

You nodded, a defiant yet humorous spark in your eyes. "Well I stand before you wearing Stark colors. I’d hope so. (Y/N) Stark. And you are?"

"The Hound. Sandor Clegane," he replied with a hint of mockery. "King's dog, they call me."

You arched an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "A dog, you say?” In a bold move, your eyes slowly moved up and down, taking in a good look of his entire figure. “I don’t see a collar.”

His lips twitched, almost forming a reluctant smirk. It was a rare sight, a crack in his stoic facade.

“Well, dog, I hope you’re house-trained.”

Your exchange was brief, but in that moment, something shifted. A connection, unspoken and unacknowledged, lingered between the two of you. The Hound turned away, disappearing into the crowd, leaving you with a lingering sense of curiosity and an unsettling awareness that even though you’d just met that man—you wanted more of him.

Later that night, the great hall of Winterfell resounded with the clinking of goblets and the boisterous laughter of the guests. You found yourself drawn into the festivities, attempting to put aside the enigmatic encounter with Sandor Clegane. The feast in honor of King Robert Baratheon's visit was in full swing, and the Stark family showed they knew how to put together an extravagant feast.

As the night progressed, you caught glimpses of him across the crowded hall. His presence was ominous, and whispers of him still followed like shadows. Your curiosity mingled with a sense of unease, yet you couldn't shake the feeling that your brief exchange held a significance you couldn't fully comprehend.

You continued to mingle among the noble guests, trying to keep your eyes away from Sandor. But to no avail, you watched in-between pointless conversations as he stood at the outskirts of the celebration. His gaze fixed on the revelry with a mix of disdain and disinterest and you felt a peculiar pull, as if the currents of destiny were nudging you toward the enigmatic man.

An unexpected voice interrupted you in the middle of your thoughts. "(Y/N), you seem quite taken with the Hound," spoke your younger sister, Sansa Stark, her blue eyes glinting mischievously.

You raised an eyebrow and snorted out a laughter, attempting to conceal the obvious interest written in your eyes. "Taken? No, my dear Sansa. Merely curious. He is a formidable figure, after all." You put your arm between hers, nudging her body in the direction of the man who looked quite bored. “You know what mother always tells us. We are wolves, we must be the ones to pounce before the others.”

Sansa's gaze flitted between you and the man in question, a sly smile playing on her lips. "Well, just be careful. Rumors say he has a fearsome temper."

You chuckled at her, feigning nonchalance. "Rumors are just that—rumors. I'm sure there's more to him than meets the eye."

“Rumor has it that I think you’re full of rubbish.” She replied, a playful laugh falling from her lips.

“Oh Sansa, run off. Father needs you.” You nodded in the direction of your father, clearly enjoying his conversation with King Robert and his son, Joffrey.

Poor Sansa, you thought, that boy looks like nothing but trouble.

As the night wore on, you couldn't shake the feeling that their paths were destined to cross again. And fate intervened sooner than expected. The King's squire, Lancel Lannister, approached you with a cup of wine.

"From the Hound," he declared, offering you the goblet.

You hesitated, fingers brushing against the cold metal. You glanced in the direction of the Hound, who merely nodded in acknowledgment. Taking the wine, you nodded back with a small smile, and Lancel retreated into the shadows.

As you sipped the wine, the rich flavor lingered on her lips. As you found yourself drawn once more Sandor, you wondered what he’d taste like lingering on your lips. As your eyes met, a silent understanding passed between the two of you—a forming connection, born from the flames of need for passion.

Eventually, after a few more cups of wine, you found yourself standing at the edge of the hall, watching the dancers twirl to the music. A deep voice behind you interrupted your thoughts. "You fancy dancing, Lady (Y/N)?"

You turned to find Sandor standing there, his burned face impassive. "I can dance if the occasion calls for it," you replied, your eyes meeting his with something you couldn’t describe, but you could definitely feel it.

A smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. "She’s a wolf with claws, then."

You were undeterred by his nature, offering a playful smile. "You sure seem to enjoy lurking in the shadows, Ser Clegane. Is that where you find your solace?"

He grunted, a low sound that could be mistaken for a chuckle. "Solace is overrated. I prefer the edge of the firelight."

You tilted your head, curls cascading over your shoulder. "A mysterious man, I see. Are you afraid the light will reveal too much?"

Sandor's lips twitched into a half-smile, a rare sight on his scarred face. "Some things are better left in the dark."

Leaning in, you whispered, "But not everything. Some things are meant to be uncovered." You caught the glint in his eye, a flicker of something lustful beneath the rough exterior.

The conversation continued, the banter growing more flirtatious with each exchange. You teased and prodded, finding amusement in the unexpected connection you felt with the man. He, in turn, responded with a gruff charm that surprised even himself.

Eventually, he left you with short instructions, “Broken tower.”

At last, you found yourself in the quiet solitude with the idea of getting to know Sandor better. In a way you’d known nobody before. The anticipation of his presence weighed on you, and a flutter of nerves danced in your stomach. The air was charged with a different kind of energy, one that held the promise of a connection that transcended the boundaries of right and wrong.

A soft knock on the door signaled his arrival, and when you opened it, there he stood, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of intensity and vulnerability. The flickering candlelight cast a warm glow over his scarred face, softening the harsh lines that had witnessed battles and hardships.

"I thought we might continue our conversation," he rumbled, his voice carrying a note of sincerity that caught you off guard, especially when he roughly grabbed your cheeks in his hands and pressed his lips against yours. Your heart raced as you welcomed his tongue inside your mouth, trying your best to close the door.

The room pulsed with palpable tension, igniting like a fervent flame, as your hands yearned to make contact with him in every possible manner. The warmth emanating from your skin created a contrast against the cold, unyielding metal of his armor. Restless and eager, your hands became a silent testament to the unspoken urgency of your desire.

Sandor's gaze remained fixed on yours throughout, ablaze with a passion you had long yearned for—a fervor you couldn't fathom experiencing with the man standing before you.

Your teeth sank into his lower lip, coaxing a resonant, primal groan from him, prompting his reluctant withdrawal. "She's a wolf with claws and teeth," he chuckled, wiping away the trace amount of blood that had emerged from the newfound wound.

Rather than offering a response, your body found itself pressed against the wall, his calloused hand gently mitigating the impact on your head. "Couldn’t very well carry our conversation with your lips against mine," you remarked at last, tilting your head to the side as his lips met the tender skin of your neck.

He stopped for a moment- another faint chuckle coming before continuing, “aye, that was the point.”

Sandor persisted in tracing kisses along your neck, momentarily pausing only to leave subtle bites in places known only to him. In this moment, he recognized that he was on the brink of losing all restraint, evident in the autonomy of his hands, which seemed to explore every inch of your body with a desire you willingly indulged. Oh, how willingly you would allow him to continue.

“Sandor, please, I need-” you were cut off mid sentence by him grabbing your right leg and wrapping it around his waist. The cold metal hid his hardening cock—the feeling of it against your warm skin made you anticipate his every move. “If we’re g-gonna do this.. we need to hurry..”

“You need to keep quiet.”

His lips descended, caressing the delicate fabric of your dress. His fingers deftly maneuvered to release you from its confines with a sense of urgency; there was an animalistic quality to his actions—rough fingers, accompanied by soft growls, responding to the rhythmic dance of your body against his determined hold. A silent plea resonated, a tacit acknowledgment that you craved everything he was willing to bestow upon you.

A hushed stillness enveloped the space for the next few moments, broken only when he skillfully lowered your dress, unveiling your tits. Sandor's fingers delicately traced the contours of each nipple, his unwavering gaze captivated by their response. With each circular motion, they seemed to intensify in firmness, a testament to the heightened sensitivity your body exhibited in mere minutes of his touch. He reveled in the allure of your immediate responsiveness.

If anyone were to walk in they’d see such a pornographic sight: the beloved, eldest daughter of Ned Stark, nipples hard and swollen, dress hiked up to her waist while the Prince’s hound let her hump his armor. By this point, you'd wager that the burgeoning dampness in your silk panties had left its mark on the cool silver surface, a silent proclamation of your possession of the man. Yet, the mutual understanding between you both acknowledged that any unsuspecting onlooker venturing in would be treated to an undeniable spectacle.

If this were your first time, perhaps a hint of nervousness would have crept in, particularly as you sensed his hands gently sliding your panties down to your knees. Yet, even in such a moment, his adept handling imparted a profound sense of security. This man, bound by oath to safeguard his King, was now silently pledging to protect you with equal devotion.

But, fortunately, nothing could protect your body from what Sandor was about to do.

Seating himself on the ground after loosening his leather pants, he then drew you down to join him. As you settled onto his lap, he playfully grazed against your entrance with his cock, all the while continuing his descent of kisses along your neck. With a stern tone, he uttered, "My Lady, speak the word and I’ll stop."

Gazing into his eyes, you found them ablaze with desire, mirroring the fervor you sensed within yourself. His captivating eyes, the unsteady cadence of his breath, and the formidable frame enveloping you in its embrace—you desired nothing else in that moment.

“I don’t think such words exist.” You whispered.

At last, your lips met again with an intense passion, and as he slowly pushed his cock inside, his kiss carried a raw urgency that you eagerly reciprocated. Midway, a soft moan escaped as an indescribable sensation stirred in your stomach. Gazing down, your eyes caught a glimpse of your warmth enveloping him voraciously—a hunger akin to a famished wolf.

Sandor wasn’t even in completely.

His hips moved gradually against yours, a measured rhythm aiming to acquaint you with his full length. Pressed chest to chest, he sensed the rapid cadence of your intense heartbeat, but as his fingers traced small circles on your thighs, he felt it gradually subside. Sandor understood that in due course, he would sense the resurgence of your elevated heart rate, particularly when he ultimately filled you entirely. The connection was palpable, your pelvis intimately aligned with his.

He sustained a consistent rhythm, guiding your hips in a reciprocal dance of thrusts. The entire encounter was swift and purposeful, each thrust delivered with a sense of urgency, as if time were a constraint. In a sense, it was, considering the uncertainty of someone stumbling upon you at any moment.

Yet, beneath it all, an undercurrent of passion prevailed. The symphony of your gasps harmonized with his occasional groans, creating a melodic atmosphere. Your hand remained anchored on the back of Sandor's neck like a steadying handlebar, providing support as his thrusts intensified. It felt fitting that this was how Sandor Clegane fucked his women—clothed, he embodied roughness and intensity; how could one become tender and affectionate when undressed?

The familiar sensation of tightness formed in your stomach, and truth be told, there was a hint of disappointment in how swiftly the entire encounter unfolded. Yet, the lack of surprise lingered; he had proven to be the quickest in getting you into bed. The inexplicable allure he held over you remained a mystery, but in this moment, such thoughts were irrelevant—especially when you stood on the brink of blissful release.

Suddenly, a surge of sensation swept over you as his hand enveloped your throat. Sandor felt the subtle tightening of your walls around his cock, a telltale sign that you were teetering on the edge. He sought to bring you to that exquisite pleasure. Amidst the crescendo of your growing moans reverberating against the tower walls, his grip tightened, not to stifle your ecstasy but to cloak the sounds and shield the secrecy of your rendezvous.

As tears cascaded down your cheeks in response to the overwhelming pleasure, he spoke, "That's it, (Y/N), that's it…" It was as if he momentarily shed his usual demeanor, softening as he observed you in your vulnerable state. However, amidst the whirlwind that had your head spinning and everything fading to white, the only thing you could truly register was the profound impact of your orgasm.

Sandor wasn't far behind, withdrawing as you caught your breath, leaving your back adorned in ribbons of white cum. A soft whine escaped you as you felt it trickle down, accompanied by his heightened groans that surpassed those from when he was inside you. The aftermath left both of you in a hushed stillness, contemplating who would break the silence first. It was him, rising to his feet after moving your body off his lap and discreetly tucking his softening cock back into his trousers. He handed you a handkerchief, a gesture to cleanse the now drying traces from your back.

You wondered whether he would abandon you in the tower, retreat to his quarters, or perhaps rejoin the now dwindling party. To your surprise, he didn't. Instead, he extended his hand, helping you rise and assisting in the process of reclothing yourself. It was a considerate gesture, you acknowledged, yet it only added to the palpable tension that seemed to be mounting. You were certain Sandor could discern it in your expression—the subtle frown betraying your disappointment that the encounter had concluded. As you gazed at him, you searched for any sign of shared sentiment, any indication that he, too, would miss the intimacy you had just shared. Regrettably, you found nothing.

The air outside the tower was crisp, and the moon cast a silvery glow across the surroundings as Sandor led you down the winding path to your quarters. The atmosphere was thick with unspoken words, the tension between you two lingering even in the cool night air.

The journey was silent, punctuated only by the occasional rustle of leaves and the soft echo of your footsteps on the cobblestone path. Sandor's hand, firm yet strangely comforting, guided you through the dimly lit passages of the castle.

As you approached your quarters, a mix of conflicting emotions washed over you. There was a longing for something more, a desire to bridge the gap between the intimacy you'd just shared and the reality of the castle walls around you. The silence between you spoke volumes, a tacit acknowledgment of the uncharted territory you both found yourselves in.

Upon reaching your door, Sandor released your hand, and for a moment, it felt like a sudden loss. He stood there, his expression unreadable in the muted moonlight. You searched his eyes for any sign of what lay beneath the surface, but they remained enigmatic.

"Goodnight, Lady (Y/N)," Sandor gruffly uttered, breaking the silence. The words hung in the air, a simple farewell laden with unspoken complexities.

"Goodnight, Sandor Clegane," you replied, your voice soft and tinged with a hint of something unsaid. As you entered your quarters, the door closing behind you, the weight of the night settled in.

Alone in the hushed sanctuary of your quarters, the echoes of the night's encounter reverberated through the room. The emotions, like an unruly storm, swirled within you, and the dam holding them back began to crack.

As you stood there, the weight of what had transpired bore down on you. The tears, uninvited, welled up in your eyes and spilled over, tracing the contours of your cheeks. It wasn't just the physical intimacy that left you shaken; it was the tangled web of emotions that accompanied it.

Regret gnawed at you, and confusion settled in like a heavy fog. What had led you to this precipice, and where did you stand now? The vulnerability of the moment washed over you, leaving you adrift in a sea of conflicting emotions.

Fumbling with the fastenings of your dress, you sought solace in the act of undressing, as if shedding the layers would somehow alleviate the burden you carried. The moonlight filtering through the window cast shadows across the room, emphasizing the isolation you felt.

Laying on the bed, your tears soaked into the fabric beneath you, a silent lament for the choices made and the uncharted territories navigated. The intimacy, though a fleeting connection, left a profound impact, and the aftermath left you grappling with a whirlwind of emotions.

As the night wore on, the tears eventually subsided, leaving behind a quiet ache and a lingering question of what the dawn would bring. In the solace of your room, you found yourself wrestling with the complexities of desire, regret, and the uncertain path ahead.

The morning sun painted Winterfell in hues of gold, casting a warm light over the courtyard. Despite the tender touch of dawn, the echoes of the previous night's emotions still sat within your heart.

A soft knock on your door signaled the entrance of your father, whose countenance bore the strength of responsibility. "(Y/N)," he began with a softness, "gather your sisters. There's something we must discuss."

Compelled by both curiosity and a lingering sense of unrest, you summoned Arya and Sansa to join you in the family chambers. As the three of you assembled, a somber atmosphere enveloped the room, foreshadowing the gravity of your father's impending words.

Ned stood before you, a stalwart figure. "My daughters," he started, his voice bearing both love and gravitas, "a change is upon us. I have been offered the position of Hand of the King by King Robert."

Sansa's eyes widened, Arya's skepticism palpable, and you exchanged a glance with a mixture of surprise and uncertainty.

"We will be relocating to King's Landing," Ned continued, his gaze encompassing each of you. "It is an honor, but with it comes great responsibility. The court is a labyrinth of politics and intrigue, and I need my family by my side."

Arya's rebellious spirit simmered beneath the surface, while Sansa's excitement mingled with trepidation. As for you, the events of the night before lingered, making the move to King's Landing feel like an unexpected twist in the intricate tapestry of your life.

Amidst the familial exchanges, there was another silent dance occurring—one between you and Sandor. His eyes constantly drew your gaze. It was as if an invisible thread connected you, and in those moments, the world around you blurred as your eyes met his, wordlessly conveying a shared understanding of the complexities unfolding.

Ned Stark, seemingly oblivious to the subtle interplay, continued to outline the responsibilities that awaited the Stark family in the capital. As he spoke, your eyes frequently found Sandor's, and each exchange carried a weight of unspoken emotions. His gaze, normally guarded, held a hint of something that transcended the stoic exterior he presented to the world.

When Ned mentioned the unity of the Stark family in facing the challenges ahead, your eyes involuntarily sought out Sandor's once more. In that shared gaze, there was a recognition that echoed the uncertainties of the path ahead and the uncharted territories that lay before you.

The air seemed heavy with the weight of impending change as you sought out Sandor in the quiet corners of the castle. You found him in a secluded courtyard, the familiar hounds of House Stark milling about nearby. The atmosphere was tense, and the silent exchange of glances from before lingered in your mind.

"Sandor," you began, your voice cutting through the stillness. He turned to face you, his expression guarded but expectant.

The words tumbled out, the night before demanding acknowledgement. "What happened between us… it was unexpected, and now with the move to King's Landing, I don't know what this means."

Sandor's gaze, normally impenetrable, softened in a rare display of vulnerability. "It means nothing, my Lady. Just a moment in time, and we move on."

But you couldn't shake the lingering questions. "Is that all it was to you? Just a moment?"

He hesitated, his eyes meeting yours with a raw honesty. "It was more than that, but it's not something that fits into our worlds."

A surge of frustration mixed with a tinge of sadness swept over you. "Our worlds? What does that mean, Sandor? We're both headed to King's Landing. We're both a part of whatever is coming next."

His gaze held a complexity that mirrored the conflict within. "In King's Landing, there's a different kind of game being played. I’m not the one to bring into your world, and you sure as hell don't belong in mine."

The words stung, but there was a resignation in his tone, as if he sought to shield you from the harsh realities he faced daily.

You took a step closer, unwilling to let the unspoken linger. "I can decide what world I belong to, Sandor. And right now, I want to understand what this is between us."

He sighed, a mixture of frustration and reluctance. "We're just two people caught up in a storm. Best not to overthink it."

Before you could press further, the sound of footsteps approached, and the courtyard suddenly felt less secluded. Sandor's eyes met yours once more, a silent understanding passing between you.

"In King's Landing, things will have to change," he muttered, his tone a gruff acknowledgment of the challenges ahead.

The bittersweet taste of truth lingered in the air as he pressed a fleeting kiss to your forehead. A silent understanding passed between you, a farewell woven with unspoken regrets and the inevitability of parting ways.

As the distance between your bodies widened, the courtyard seemed to stretch infinitely. The angst that clung to the parting moments left an indelible ache, a silent ache that would resonate in the chambers of your heart long after the echoes of Sandor's footsteps faded into the shadows.

"I don't want to lose you," you confessed in your mind.

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fan-fantasies · 11 months

Text

Do You Jest?

A/N: surprise!! I’ve been feeling really down lately so I figured maybe writing might help. This kinda sucks and sounded better in my head but oh well. Enjoy!

Pairing: Aemond x fem!reader

Warnings: Aegon being a shit, salacious language, making out and mild breeding kink if you squint, heavy use of wife and husband

Summary: you’ve known the royal family for most of your life, but never would you have guessed Aemond’s reaction to your own betrothal.

Part Two

“You’re drooling again, brother,” Aegon chuckled. Aemond shot him a dirty look before turning his attention back to you.

“Don’t you have some handmaid to go fondle?” The prince scoffed.

“Maybe later. I’d much rather join you in ogling our lady.”

“She most certainly is not your lady and I was not ogling!”

Aemond was becoming more annoyed with his older brother by the minute. He couldn’t help it if his eye was drawn to you- your brilliant dress dazzling under candlelight as you stood on the edge of the dance floor.

A few suitors had asked for a dance but you declined each one, feigning an upset stomach preventing you from twirling about.

“You know her betrothal is being announced in a few days,” Aegon whispered. Aemond’s eye widened at his brother’s words.

“To whom is she betrothed?”

“How should I know?” Aegon scoffed. “Some fortunate bastard that will be between her thighs night after night-“

Aemond grabbed Aegon by his collar and pulled him closer.

“Do not speak of her that way ever again,” he growled. Aegon grinned at him before pulling his hand from his shirt.

The elder brother got up from the table and made his way over to you as Aemond watched in panic. He could see Aegon whispering something to you and your eyes flicker over to where he was seated. You nodded and said something back before heading in his direction.

Aemond thought his heart was going to beat out of his chest.

He had known you since you were both children, your family being close acquaintances with his own. You wouldn’t say you were friends- Aemond always being too shy to approach you, but he had watched from afar as you grew into an amazing young woman.

He often found himself having sinful thoughts about you, unable to focus on anything else when you were around.

You were everything he wished for in a woman; kind, intelligent, beautiful, and gentle. You cared for his family as if they were your own and he was eternally grateful for that. Others often found it easy to judge them, but you never did.

He had secretly hoped that his mother might betroth you to him at some point but when Aegon told him your betrothal was to be announced, all hopes of that disappeared.

“My prince, I was told you wished to speak to me?” You asked, appearing in front of him. He could see Aegon snickering behind you.

“No, I didn’t want to speak with you,” he said without thinking, his tone harsher than he intended.

“Oh…I’m sorry for bothering you then,” your eyes dropped to the floor and Aemond felt horrible. He didn’t mean to come across so rude; this is why he kept his distance from you. He would get so nervous that he always said the wrong thing.

“No! I mean, I didn’t request to speak with you but I should like to- speak with you, that is. You are never a bother, lady,” he rushed out.

“It’s quite alright, Prince Aemond. I see now that Aegon was jesting with me. Please, excuse me,” you mumbled before rushing off. He watched as you left the great hall completely and he wished nothing more than to follow you. But first, he needed to do something about Aegon.

Before he could leave the table, his mother called his name.

“Aemond, there is something I wish to speak to you about,” Alicent said softly.

“I’m not in the mood, mother,” he sighed. He looked around for Aegon, but found him nowhere.

“It is quite important.”

“Tomorrow, then. We shall break fast together and we can discuss it,” he said before bowing and excusing himself. His mother sighed as she watched her son stalk from the party.

Aemond wandered the halls until he stopped in his tracks. He saw a figure on the balcony facing away from him but he easily recognized your dress. He wasn’t sure if he should approach you or not, but he wanted to make up for earlier.

“My lady, please excuse this disturbance,” he said, slowly coming up behind you.

You didn’t turn to face him or even acknowledge he was there.

“I would like to apologize for earlier. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“T’is Aegon who has offended me, my prince. For jesting that you wished to speak to me, for getting my hopes up,” you said quietly.

“I shall deal with him once I can find him, I promise you,” Aemond nearly snarled. He hates that Aegon has upset you, but even more so that he somehow contributed to it.

“Please don’t, I do hate it when you two fight,” you sighed.

“As you wish, lady. Just know you needn’t an excuse to come speak to me. It is never a bother to be in your presence.”

“I’m glad you feel that way, my prince,” you bowed slightly and Aemond’s heart sank a little.

“Please, just call me Aemond,” he begged. “Should you not find that too inappropriate. We’ve known each other so long, I hardly think titles are necessary.”

“Titles are everything these days,” you sighed. Aemond had a feeling he knew what you were talking about and his breath caught in his throat.

“Ah, yes. I’ve heard the news. I do wish you every happiness,” he said through gritted teeth. You finally turned to look at him.

“You do?”

“Of course. That is the least you deserve.”

“And what is it that you think I deserve?” You asked. Aemond was hesitant to answer. He didn’t want to reveal his true feeling, both for you and about your betrothal.

“You deserve kindness, loyalty, and honesty. You deserve someone who loves you and only you. Someone handsome and brave,” he trailed off while looking at his hands entwined before him.

“I’ve often found you to be all of those things,” you told him. His eye shot up to your face, only to find you looking at him curiously.

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“Are you, too, jesting with me, my prince?” You asked, becoming irritated.

“I would never, sweet girl. I just don’t know why you’d grace me with such kind words.”

“Should I not be kind to my husband to be? I do not wish for a stale, loveless marriage. So if that is where we are headed please just tell me now,” you pleaded. Aemond found no hint of deceit in your face and he allowed himself for a moment to feel a sliver of hope.

“My lady, who are you betrothed to?”

“You really don’t know?” You asked.

“I need to hear you say it,” he whispered.

“Aemond, we are to be married,” you said, reaching out to touch his hands. You hesitated slightly but before you could pull back he grabbed your hand and pulled you close to him.

“We are to be married?” He asked incredulously.

“Yes, my prince,” you finally smiled at him and he swore he had never been graced with the sight of anything more beautiful.

“Not your prince, your husband,” he said before crashing his lips to yours. You were stunned to say the least, not knowing Aemond harbored such feelings for you.

He held your body flush to his and the rest of the world melted away as he deepened the kiss.

He pulled away but you chased him, reconnecting your lips once again. He chuckled and indulged you once more before breaking the kiss.

“How inappropriate of you, my sweet wife,” he smirked.

“You started it!” You gasped playfully. “You know, I feared that you were disappointed when you heard of our betrothal. When Aegon told me you wished to speak to me I hoped for a moment that maybe you were okay with it. But then you dismissed the idea of speaking to me so easily I knew the idea of marrying me would only repulse you more- but now I’m not so sure.”

“I swear to you I didn’t know. I believe my mother wished to tell me at the banquet but after Aegon’s little joke and how I feared I wounded you, I wouldn’t hear her. Aegon knows how I feel for you and he knows how nervous I am around you which he used to his advantage.”

“You have no need to be nervous around me, it is I who has always been nervous around you. You’re so handsome and intimidating, I feared gaining your affection to be nearly impossible,” you sighed.

“Fear no more, wife. My affections have always been yours and they will always be yours alone.”

“You keep calling me ‘wife’ yet I am only just barely your betrothed,” you chuckled. His gaze darkened and he leaned in to kiss you again.

“The title matters not to me; I am yours and you are mine,” he promised before capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.

His hands grasped at your ass beneath your gown and your legs grew weak.

“Aemond…” you whimpered.

“Keep that up and I won’t be able to wait until our wedding night to fuck my seed into you,” he growled in your ear.

“Do not tease me, husband,” you whined.

“That’s what you think teasing is, little wife?” He chuckled. “You have no idea what lies ahead then.”

Part Two

#aemond targaryen #Aemond x reader #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell fanfic #house of the dragon #Aemond Targaryen fluff #Aemond fluff #Aemond smut

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separateskins · 1 year

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hard to believe that in 2016 we were all collectively clicking on Google drive links while waiting for subtitles so we could watch a Norwegian show about two boys and then that show got insanely popular so they made several remakes in Europe- further proving that yes there are other isaks and evens in the parallel universes and yes the curtains are different and really queerness is a long thread and we're all holding onto it and it brings us together minute by minute.

(also it did change the TV landscape because a show like young royals would never get made in 2016)

#skam #skam france #druck #wtfock #skam italia #skam nl

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firelilyfox · 28 days

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Choose Your Next Words Carefully

Dune: Paul Atreides x female reader

Warnings: se&ual harassment (assault) / cursing / angst / blood

Words: 2k

Summary: Paul & you were childhood friends but suddenly he distanced from you. On a night full of celebration you get into trouble & Paul protects you … but what happened two years ago?

______________________

Caladan looked even more beautiful at night.

You are watching the peaceful waves collapsing under the balcony you are standing on. Behind the whole castle is celebrating another victory against the Harkonnen. A soft breeze lets the fabric of your dress flow in the wind and you take a deep breath of the salty air.

It wasn’t your wish to be here tonight, but your father insisted that you would watch him getting honored for his work for Duke Leto. And you did. But when the duke’s son joined the celebration, you had to get out of there as soon as possible.

You and Paul Atreides had a very … complicated past.

As long as you could remember you had a crush on him and he knew it all along. When the two of you were younger, you would play everyday and make mischief all around the castle. But suddenly you barley saw him once a week and Paul acted kinda cold around you. Once you wanted to talk to him about his weird behavior, he just laughed at you and made fun of you for having a crush on him. Everybody around could hear him laughing and began to pity you for being so naive.

The daughter of a soldier would never be good enough for a future Duke.

You never spoke to Paul again. This was two years ago, but every time you see him at big events, your heart tightens and you become overwhelmed with sadness and anger. How could he do something like that to you? Even if he never had felt the same for you as you did for him … friends don’t hurt each other like that.

„What are you doing out here?“, a voice asked behind you. When you turned around you saw a man standing there, looking at you with a drunk smile. It was a friend of your father. A soldier, just like him.

„Just catching some fresh air“, you said.

The man comes closer to you, stumbling over his own feet. His wrinkly face showed many scars from battle in the past. „It is dangerous … for a young Lady … out here.“

He leans towards you, but you duck away from him. „Uh.. thanks for the heads up. I will go inside … where its safer.“

As you turn your back again, you can hear him mumbling something about find me later, but you don’t want to keep listening to this creepy guy.

Quickly your feet carrying you inside the great hall, where most of the people are dancing and drinking. You couldn’t see your father anywhere because you are shorter than most of the men and women here. So you decide to get on one of the stone benches to get a better view from up there.

„These things are meant to sit on, you know?“

Green eyes. A crooked grin. Freckles.

„What do you know, Atreides? Shouldn’t your royal ass be sitting on a throne or something?“

Paul chuckles. „Sassy as always. Some things never change, hm?“

You rolled your eyes and went back to keep on looking for your father, so you could finally leave this goddamn party. That’s when Paul joined you on the bench.

„What are we looking for?“, he asked amused.

You’re frowning at him. „WE are not looking for anything. I am looking for my father. And YOU should leave me alone, Atreides.“

Paul looks confused. „Have you forgotten my first name? It’s Paul, you know?“ He smiled again and you catch yourself almost smiling at his dumb joke. But you manage to pull yourself together before that happens. It almost felt like when you were kids.

„Fuck off, Paul.“ You jump from the bench and trying to make a way through the crowd of drunk, dancing people. Paul follows you.

„You tell your future Duke to fuck off? Hah! You are as brave as I remember“, he says laughing. Before you could respond anything, Paul grabs your wrist and turns you around. His other hand holding your waist and you find yourself pressed against him. The high difference forces you to look up at him.

„What are you doing?“, you stutter.

A smirk appears on his face, as if he know how much impact his presence has on you. „I’m dancing with you. I mean we are on the dance floor.“

For a moment you let yourself enjoy the feeling of being so close to him. The pressure of his hand on your lower back, his chest moving against yours. Your fingers on his bicep. Hands holding each other. This was something you always dreamed about. Your heart begins to pound like crazy. His smile faded and his gaze softened. Now he looks at you like you are the only thing that is existent. Time moves slower. Noise faded. Only you and him.

Paul leans his forehead against yours, closings his eyes and he takes a deep breath. The moment was intimate and all you wished for at some point … but it felt wrong.

„What has gotten into you tonight?“ You pushed him away. A hurt expression crossed his face and you almost felt bad. „Two years, Paul. Two years and now this?“

Without waiting for a stupid response you took off and managed to find a way through the crowd out in the hallways. Tears filled your eyes, but you are to stubborn to let them run down your face, exposing your hurt feelings.

Desperate for some privacy you opened a small door and find an empty room with sofas. The perfect hiding spot until you’ll be able to shove down your feelings again.

„I see. The Lady found me.“

A high pinched scream escaped your throat as you were grabbed roughly by the shoulders and got pushed down on one of the sofas. Your head slammed against something hard and you feel warm blood running down your cheek.

The man from the balcony holds you down with a big smile on his face. His gaze is hidden in shadows but you recognize him.

„Let me go! My father will behead you with his own hands!“ You scream at him, trying to get away but against his heavy body you have no chance.

He was not listening and even if he was, he seemed not to care. The man took one hand of your shoulder to grab you by the neck to choke you and the other hand loosened up his pants.

„No. No please. No“, you beg for him to stop.

„Not so bratty anymore, hm? I shall teach you a lesson you little slut! I will…“

But his words came to stop. Slowly you opened your eyes again, as his grip around your neck got loose again. You could see a knife at his throat, forcing him to stop and not move a muscle. The hand, that was holding the knife belonged to … Paul.

He was standing behind the man. His eyes dark and full of rage. The knife scratching the skin and making the old man bleed a little bit.

The old guy shouted in anger. „Whoever dares to interrupt me will be punished!“

Paul chuckled dangerously silent and forced the man to turn around to look at him. His eyes widened in shock. „My Lord“, he whispered. „I didn’t know that you own this whore … I mean I …“

„If I were you“, Paul interrupted him with a deadly glance. „I would choose my next words very carefully.“

Paul lays more pressure on the knife and it’s cutting deeper into his skin. The man began to whimper. Before the damage would be irreversible, Paul pushed him to the ground.

„I won’t wash my hands in your blood.“ As if he had given a silent sign, two guards came in to drag the man outside. „These guys will handle that.“

You look at Pauls back. He was standing there like a true leader. Like the man he became. He was not a child anymore … and neither were you.

As the door closes again he dropped the knife and turned around to you. Faster than lighting he got down on one knee to met your eyes at the same hight. His hands cupping your face and he wipes your tears away that mixed up with the blood.

„Does it hurt badly?“, he asked with a soft voice. The contrast to his fearless and deadly side couldn’t be any bigger.

You shake your head. „No it’s fine.“

„He will be beheaded in the morning. You don’t have to worry about seeing him ever again.“ Paul tries to calm you down. His eyes holding your own captured and you weren’t able to look away.

„Thanks. I mean …“, you shake your head again getting rid of his hands. „I should go now.“

You stand up and opening the door. Paul is standing right behind you, pushing the door shut again. His hand were right next to your head but you refuse tu turn around right away.

„Please let me explain“, he whispered. Paul was so close, that you could feel his breath on your skin. You sigh but still refuse to turn around to look at him.

„There is nothing to explain. I know everything that I need to know.“

„You asked me what has gotten into me tonight.“

You stay silent.

Paul sighted. „My father told me that I don’t have to be married to be the next Duke.“

Confusion brings you to look over your shoulder and met his sad green eyes. The honesty in them lets you turn around. „What does that have to do with me?“

He smiled but it looked so sad and broken. „Everything. I … i stayed away from you on purpose, y/n.“

„What do you mean?“

„The day you told me, that you … you had feelings for me, was the same day my father told me to that I have to marry Princess Irulan in the future. I was so mad at him because I already lost my heart to someone and I … but he said that it had to be this way.“

„So you let out your anger about your father out on me?“, you asked angrily.

Paul shakes his head. „No. I just thought … if you would hate me … then it would be easier for me to stay away from you.“

Suddenly all fell right into place. His behavior on that day two years ago made much more sense … he was cold and distant but…

You punched him on the arm. „That still don’t give you the permission to act like an asshole!“

Paul smiled and nodded apologetically. „You are right but I was young and not so smart like I thought I wished to be.“

A moment of silence fell over the two of you. Just the eyes spoke louder than a voice could ever manage to do.

„So … you lost your heart to someone else than your reflection in the mirror?“, you joked.

„God I missed your sassy mouth so much!“ Paul laughed and it was the first real laughter you heard from him for such a long time. „Yeah i did. Even if my reflection is pretty stunning … nothing compares to the girl that I lost my heart and soul to.“

Paul gently laid his hand on your cheek making sure you keep on looking into his eyes before he kept on talking. „I always loved you, y/n. Of course I did! How could I not love you?“

Tears start to fill your eyes again … but this time for a good reason.

„You are still an asshole for behaving like that, Atreides.“

His smile melted your heart away. „Will you forgive me?“

You nod.

Paul slowly leans towards you and when his lips met yours, there where nothing else to say.

#timothée chalamet #paul atreides #dune movie #dune part one #dune part two #paul atredies x reader #paul atreides x you #fluff #protective paul atreides #protective boyfriend #paul atreides angst #light angst #dune fanfic #dune angst #paul atreides kissing #first kiss

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