lookatmycat9445

[lookatmycat9445]

This could just be me wanting a character I like to have some of the skills I do,

But I headcanon merlin to be really good at a lot of different kinds of needle work, such as crocheting, knitting, embroidery, cross stitch, sewing, and making lace.

I feel like he would learn from his mom and all the other older ladies in his home village.

Just sitting on his mom's lap when he was a child and learning how to reuse old pieces of cloth to make something new.

I think that after he moves to Camelot and becomes Arthur's servant; that he doesn't have enough time to do any little projects, just enough time to stitch up a tear in his clothes.

[lookatmycat9445]

woman of letters // dean winchester

pairing: dean winchester x man of letters!female!reader

summary: sam and dean discover the bunker of the men of letters. expecting it to be empty, they get quite the shock when they meet you.

content: swearing, canon level violence, reader is very inexperienced in combat, mutual pining between dean and reader, reader is slightly injured by dean, mentions of family death, idiots in love trope

word count: 3.8k

note: this is my first series with dean! i'm not sure how many parts, but i wanted to share this with the world. there will be smut in later parts. if you look up "dark academia outfit" on pinterest and scroll, that is how i envisioned the reader dressing.

masterlist

----

Sam and Dean entered the bunker wearily. They didn’t know what they were walking into. There could be a demon, or worse, waiting for them to arrive. They had their guns drawn as they moved down the stairs into a large room. Stone walls were made more comfortable by the warm lighting in the space. Sam eyed a doorway that seemed to lead to a library of sorts. Dean readjusted his grip on his gun and traveled deeper into the bunker. Sam opted to explore the library first instead of following his brother.

The walls were filled with books varying in color and size. His eyes raked across the titles and keywords jumped out at him: vampire, werewolf, witch. He felt like a kid in a candy store. He continued to survey the room. There were velvet upholstered chairs in the corners of the room. A couple tables were placed in the center of the room. There wasn’t anything strange about them initially. Sam then noticed the open book and steaming mug of coffee. Someone was here. Sam tightened his hold on his gun and whirled around.

Standing behind him was a girl. You. You wore dress pants and a white button-up shirt. The gun you held in your shaking hand glinted in the light. This either meant it was brand new or it had never been used. By the way you awkwardly held the weapon with two hands, Sam was willing to bet it was the second option. The expression on your face was stony but behind that Sam could see the fear coursing through you. You were scared. Frightened like a baby deer that got separated from his mother. But you couldn’t tell this intruder that.

“Whoa.” Sam tried to put you at ease but refused to lower his own gun. You swallowed and shifted on your feet. You continued your silence while reading his body language. Weapons you hated, but psychology was where you thrived. You needed to determine what this man was here for. Lost in your mind, you failed to notice the way Sam’s eyes drifted over your shoulder where Dean was creeping up behind you.

Faster than you could fight off, the man behind you kicked the back of your knees. You were on the ground on your hands and knees, your gun sliding away from you. You scrambled for it and whimpered when it was swept up into Dean’s hand. Sam’s gun was still trained on you. Dean scoffed after looking over your weapon.

“Safety’s still on, sweetheart.” Dean shot at you while restraining your wrists behind your back with handcuffs. You were really panicking now. This was not how it was supposed to go. You were supposed to keep this place safe and in a few short minutes you were rendered useless to that cause by a couple of strangers.

Dean pulled out a canister of something. Poison, you assumed. They were here to kill you. He forced your mouth open and poured the substance into your mouth. Instantly, you spat it out of your mouth. Not poison, salt. You looked at the man with an incredulous expression. What the hell was he doing to you? You watched the two men exchange a look before Sam handed Dean a flask with a cross on it. A thought crossed your mind, something from your readings. Holy water, you thought. You coughed out the liquid when it was splashed into your face. Regaining your breath, you glared at the men.

 “I’m not a demon.” You spoke, shocking the men in front of you. They flexed their jaws in anger, moving closer to you. Your eyes widened.

“Then what the hell are you?” Dean asked. You were hesitant to answer. These men had broken into your home, tied you up, and were demanding information when you didn’t even know their names. You weren’t about to tell them what you really were, though if they found a way into the bunker they already had an idea.

“Human.” You spat, hoping they would settle for that answer. Of course they didn’t. Dean searched for any clues about who, or what, you were. The holy water had trickled down on your chest, turning your shirt see through. He could see a dark mark peeking through the fabric. He grabbed at the collar of your shirt and yanked it down to reveal it. A logo.

“Take me to dinner first, pretty boy.” You sneered out and yanked your body away. Sarcasm was one of your favorite defenses. Your shirt slipped from his fingers and he looked at Sam again.

“Man of Letters.” Sam spoke out, talking to Dean but you still heard it. You rolled your eyes. It was a sexist name created by a bunch of men far before your time.

“Woman of Letters.” You corrected, causing Dean to snort out a sarcastic laugh. He crouched down so he was face to face with you.

“Alright, Rosie the Riveter, why don’t you tell me how exactly you got here.” Dean offered, raising his eyebrows. You raised your own eyebrows back.

“I could ask you the same.” Your breath fanned Dean’s face. He ground his teeth in irritation and stood. With his eyes finally off of you, you let your mask of strength fall. Your breath quickened while you tried to think of a way out. Unfortunately, you were more book smart than street smart and your research had never gone into detail on how to fight off two asshole men once they had taken you prisoner. They were standing off to the corner and you could just barely catch what they were saying.

“-- can’t just leave her tied up, Dean.” The taller man spoke to who you now knew to be Dean. You narrowed your eyes at the name. Why did it sound so familiar?

“Well, we can’t let her go, Sammy!” Dean’s voice was insistent. Dean and Sammy. Sammy and Dean. You’d heard those names before.

“Winchester.” You breathed out. It caught their attention, throwing them off guard.

“What?” Sam asked, blinking at you. You looked up at him.

“Sam and Dean Winchester. Hunters.” You were talking mostly to yourself now, but what you were saying was putting the boys into a state of unease.

“How do you know that?” Dean stomped towards you, gun aimed at your forehead. You knew he wouldn’t shoot you. Despite your own opinions on hunters in general, you now realized how they were able to find the bunker. Henry Winchester. You were unsure of the details, but you were certain that their grandfather had somehow led them here. When Dean cocked the gun, you blurted out your next words.

“Your grandfather was a Man of Letters. I read about him in the texts.” You turned your head and squeezed your eyes shut. You flinched when you felt the gun move from your direction. The relief was short lived when you heard a knife unsheath. Maybe he was going to kill you.

“Please.” The pleading statement escaped your lips against your will as a final attempt to save your life. You may not have gone out much but you weren’t ready to die. Imagine how you felt when the ropes tangled around your wrists loosened. You immediately grasped at one of them, examining where the skin was rubbed raw.

“Now answer.” Sam’s voice was demanding. “How do you know about us?”

You pulled yourself to your feet. Your hair was mussed, clothing wet and wrinkled, and salt granules still clung to your chin. You walked to your workstation where your now cold coffee sat. The day of studying you had planned was now ruined.

“You guys are everywhere. News, social media, letters to loved ones.” You listed the sources you had learned about the Winchester brothers while returning the books to their rightful places. You heard two pairs of footsteps walking in your direction.

“Letters?” Dean was confused. Did you mean your own loved ones, or other people’s?

“Yeah. Some of the people you helped, and some families that you kind of didn’t,” you held a finger gun up to your head to help your words take meaning, “wrote of you to their aunts, uncles, grandparents. The letters were intercepted and copies were made for the archives here.” You gestured around you, though no information on the boys were in the room you were currently in. Sam tilted his head curiously.

“You stole mail?” The tall man asked, worried for any of his own letters. You turned to him defensively.

“I have allies in the postal offices, I gave the letters back.” You grabbed the handle of your mug, frowning when you felt the cold ceramic on your skin. You walked to the kitchen, Sam and Dean following behind you like lost puppies.

“Again, how did you become a Man--,” Dean winced at the look you shot him, “Woman of Letters?” You turned around to face the two men. They stared down at you, Dean looking skeptical and Sam curious to learn.

“My grandfather.” You blinked at them when their expressions didn’t change. “What?”

“The Men of Letters all died in the 1950’s.” Dean grumbled out. You rolled your eyes. He really needed to gain an imagination.

“Not him. He was here. Once my parents died,” -- this piqued Dean’s interest -- “I joined him and he inducted me into the society.” You decided you needed to clean up from the earlier interrogation. You pushed between Sam and Dean. Again, the men followed. The hall was decorated about the same as the library, sconces on the wall lighting the way to the living quarters. You twisted the knob on one of the doors to reveal a room that looked far more lived in than the rest of the bunker.

“Your parents are dead?” Dean asked as you fluttered about your room. You pulled a sweater off a hanger in the wardrobe. You looked to him while unbuttoning your shirt.

“Plane crash.” You knew he was asking how they died. It wasn’t from some enemy of the society or a supernatural force. It was a simple mistake made by a newly licensed pilot. You had your time to grieve over them, so voicing their deaths wasn’t difficult anymore. Dean’s eyes didn’t leave your body when you removed your soiled top. You replaced the garment with the sweater.

You interested him. You were too smart for your own good but somehow not stuck up like the other Men of Letters he had encountered. You also seemed to be the last member living, unknown to the rest of the world. Instead of continuing his questioning, he opted to wash the dirt and grime from his body.

“You got a shower around here somewhere?”

----

Night had fallen upon the world outside, but the bunker was unrestrained by the daylight. You were lounging in the library with a book in your lap. This book was for your own entertainment, consisting of silly plot lines and romance. You had shown Sam and Dean to the empty rooms, allowing them to take their pick. It had been hours since then and it was the last interaction you had with them. You were now wearing a matching silk pajama set and fuzzy socks, your slippers laying abandoned on the floor.

“How long have you been alone?” It was Sam, though you imagined Dean wasn’t far behind him. You closed your book before answering.

“Thirteen years.” You weren’t used to this much human interaction. Usually by this time you had your favorite songs playing through the bunker while you cooked your dinner.

“And your grandfather?”

“Cancer.”

“Oh.”

You smiled at Sam. You had heard stories of him and his brother. They varied in intensity, but the overall consensus was that they brought nothing but bad news with them. Sam had started the apocalypse, an event that had locked down the bunker until you had managed to get it to open back up. Dean had gone to Hell and back, literally. You wouldn’t admit it, but you had learned this from the horribly written Supernatural books.

All of these stories and yet, with Sam in front of you with his big brown eyes, you couldn’t help but think that the world was wrong for thinking these boys were anything but good. You knew what they had lost, who they had lost and how. Yes, you had experienced grief before, but you had lost your family to human tragedies. You hadn’t gotten close with anyone else after your grandfather, though you knew you needed to find members to take over your responsibilities once you died. You just weren’t good with people, not in the long term.

“He was old. It was inevitable.” You dismissed the pity on his face. Sam shrugged and joined you on the couch where you were stretched out. You moved your socked feet to make room for him to sit.

“You don’t leave the bunker?” Sam asked you, still confused as to how they had never heard of you. You shook your head.

“I leave for food and information, then I return. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“No friends?” You rolled your eyes at the question, though it did strike you as odd that you never had the urge to grow a connection with someone else.

“I don’t need friends, I have the texts.” You used as defense. Sam frowned at your words. Sure, he didn’t have the best track record with keeping relationships, but he had Bobby, Dean, and occasionally Castiel. You had no one.

“If you say so.” With Sam’s answer, a silence fell over the room. Despite the fact that you had just met the man, it was a comfortable silence. You had lived so long being alone with your only connection to the outside world being the television you had installed in your room. You knew pop culture references but had no one to tell them to. You were witty and sarcastic, but no one knew. You had come to peace with it long ago, but now you were thinking you shouldn’t have.

The sound of a door opening down the hall caught your attention. It was Dean, leaving his room to join you and Sam. He entered with a grin. He had decided, very uncharacteristically, to give you some trust. He wasn’t going to let you drive his car or put his life in your hands, but he would be kind to you. In a way, you reminded him of Charlie, in a non lesbian-little-sister kind of way. You gestured to the empty chair that stood near the couch and Dean accepted.

“Sorry for the whole salt and holy water thing.” Dean apologized after sitting. You crinkled your nose and brushed a thumb over your wrists. They were still red from earlier but brought no pain, only annoyance.

“You should be sorry for the bruise on the back of my thigh.” You reminded him of the blow he had landed on your legs. Dean winced at the memory. Not the best way to introduce himself, but he was on high alert at the time. You nodded at his response and looked to the the intricate rug that garnished the floor.

“Who taught you how to shoot?” Dean inquired. He remembered your weak stance and the fact that you still had the safety on the gun. You flushed at the fact that he had found something you lacked skill in. You could write wonderfully, recall every detail from a lecture or text, even pick your words eloquently. When it came to weapons and physical combat, you were no better than a child. Actually, a child could probably aim better than you.

“YouTube.” You mumbled to Dean. He laughed at the answer, which caused you to want to defend yourself.

“I’m not exactly used to being attacked down here. No one knows I exist.” You perked your head up with a new realization. “Though I suppose with the two of you here, I may be more susceptible to unsavory visitors.” You looked between the brothers. Now they were the ones wanting to defend themselves.

“We… you… monsters…” Dean sputtered out, but eventually came to the conclusion that you were correct. Evil beings would most likely come after them down here. You felt Dean’s next words, the ones that were going to tell you they were going to leave and you would never see them again. Something in you jumped to keep him from speaking.

“You can stay, of course, but you’ll need to teach me some techniques.” You offered the lifeline and Dean took it. He had never had a home growing up, not really. It was smelly motel to even smellier motel with stifling car rides with his dad in between. Now he had a place to return to, a room, a kitchen, a warm shower. It helped a pretty girl like you came with the space. He felt a draw to you unlike any before. No one, not even Lisa, had made him feel like this. He wanted to protect you, but he also wanted you to comfort him. He wanted your body and your mind, all of it, and he had only known you a few hours.

“It’s a deal.” Dean answered with Sam chiming in with a similar sentiment. You had a feeling these boys were here to stay.

----

“Hit me harder.” Dean growled out for the fourth time. It was late morning and the beginning of your training wasn’t going well. It had started out rough, with you only owning the business casual dress wear that made you look like a character straight out of a dark academia movie. After you were dressed in a pair of Dean’s sweatpants you could pull tight with the drawstring and a tank top, Dean had complained when Sam insisted on doing stretches before any sparring. Then came the actual punches.

You were weak, you knew that. You hadn’t taken a gym class since you were nine and only God knows the last time you even glanced at weights. You figured you could land a hit, but Dean hadn’t even flinched when you hit the block of padding he held in front of him. He pushed you to hit harder, but the repeated failures frustrated you. When you got frustrated, Dean felt the tension, which affected his mood. Now you were both angry in a space meant for fighting. Sam stood off to the side. He was getting the sense he would have to jump in soon to stop an argument from occurring.

“Shut up.” You muttered through gritted teeth and hit at the padding again. You looked to Dean for approval. He shook his head again.

“Harder.”

The word had been your final straw. You had woken up with the full intention to work at this until you succeeded. Though a small part of you had expected you would be instantly good at it. You didn’t like not being good at things, that was why you leaned toward more academic studies. You threw your hands down to your side and glared at Dean.

“I’m done.” You stomped out of the room. Dean shoved the padding into Sam’s chest and stalked after you. He wasn’t going to let you give up that easily.

“What if demons come?” Dean shouted out as he followed you to the kitchen. He was trying to give you real life scenarios, but you were having none of it.

“Let them kill me.” You didn’t mean it, you were just being stubborn. You drank water from the glass you had filled, chest heaving from exhaustion and rage. Dean watched you with eyes on fire. It seemed you two were going to butt heads more than expected.

“Then what happens, huh? There’s no one to take your place here if you’re dead!” Dean argued back. He knew it would strike at you. The Men of Letters were big on legacies and you had no heirs to stake claim on the bunker. You gritted your teeth together. You weren’t thinking anymore, you were just trying to get out of the uncomfortable situation.

“I would offer the place to you but your half-wit brain wouldn’t be able to keep up!” You shouted in his face and stormed away again. This time Dean didn’t follow you. He instead stretched his neck and glared at the wall. He wasn’t hurt by the words themselves, more at the reason why you had said them. He knew his strengths and they didn’t include reading books all day. You had aimed to hurt him, a fact that had him cursing ever wanting to trust you at all. There was a reason he was slow to let people in and you had just confirmed that instinct. Sam lumbered into the kitchen and watched as Dean ran a hand over his face.

“What was that?” Sam asked, arms outstretched in disbelief. Dean did a little shake of his head.

“She’s impossible.” He gestured with his hand to the way you had left. Sam sighed.

“She’s been alone for over a decade.” Sam reminded him. Dean shook his head again. He didn’t want to be rational right now. He knew why he was so angry. Every punch you didn’t land sent the image of your frightened doe eyes from yesterday flashing across his vision. You had been helpless to the invasion and he never wanted you to feel like that again. He just wasn’t ready to admit that right now.

“Doesn’t matter.” Dean crossed his arms. Sam scoffed at the reaction and rolled his eyes. You two were giving him a serious headache.

“Go apologize.” Sam offered. He knew this wouldn’t come without a fight. Just as he expected, Dean’s nostrils flared in refusal.

“No way.”

“Dean.”

“Sam.”

“Dean.”

“Listen, I’m not going to tell that bratty, selfish woman that I’m sorry for trying to help her not get ganked by something!” Dean lashed out on Sam. What he had failed to notice before his outcry was you, now dressed in your usual attire, strolling past the doorway to the kitchen. His words made you set your jaw in anger. You cleared your throat to get his attention. The moment Dean’s eyes fell on you his anger softened.

“If that’s how you really feel then maybe we should put an end to the training.” You bit out before continuing on your way to the garage. You needed to meet with your informant from city hall and the refrigerators were growing bare. You heard Dean calling your name, regret dripping in his tone, but you ignored him. If he wanted to talk nasty about you then he didn’t deserve your time.

[lookatmycat9445]

Wild Fruit

Boromir x Wife!Reader

Words: 1.7k  - Rating: M Summary: You reunite with Boromir after he returns home from a long campaign, and you share an unexpected and sweet surprise with him. Tags: Fluff, comfort, romance, vague allusions to sex, mentions of insomnia. No physical descriptions of reader, other than her being shorter than Boromir; reader is also alluded to being a healer of some kind.   @dystopicjumpsuit I made the line from GoldenEye work, but with a Boromir twist 🍓

Restless, anxious dreams drove you from your slumber in the early hours of the morning. On instinct, you rolled over and reached for the comfort of your husband, but Boromir wasn’t there. His side of the bed remained cold, as it had for nearly two months now.

You were grateful that the long military campaigns had grown less frequent over the years as fewer and fewer orcs and dark creatures remained in the west, but the weight of Boromir’s absences never grew lighter. Fortunately, your wait was nearly over— he and his company were due back by the end of the day tomorrow. 

You had kept your mind and hands busy over the last week while you worked tirelessly to prepare for his arrival, but now that the work was finished there was naught left to do but wait. 

The smoldering remains of the fire crackled in the fireplace, doing little to keep the cold, dark chill of early spring at bay.

Much could happen in two days.

Idle waiting would drive you mad. You could not stare out the window, waiting until you saw the white banners of Gondor crest over the horizon, heralding Boromir’s return. 

No, that would not do. 

There was still work that needed doing—an old, familiar task that would surely keep your mind focused and your hands busy long enough to pass the time. You threw back the covers and went about gathering your old, worn traveling clothes and gear. 

And under the cover of the gray morning twilight, you slipped out of your well-guarded home and made for the stables. 

You raced across Pelennor Fields and didn’t stop until the sun crested the mountains in the East. It was the sight of Minas Tirith, glowing like a pearl in the warm light of morning, that stopped you and held your gaze temporarily. You couldn’t help but think of Boromir again in that moment, so you spurred on your horse and guided her north of the city, towards the foothills of the still snowcapped Mindolluin.

By the time the spring morning chill gave way to a bright and sunny day, you found yourself strolling across the alpine fields and sparse forests. The day turned unseasonably hot for this time of year, and you shed your cloak and coat well before midday, but your sword and dagger remained at your side. 

Your horse trailed faithfully behind you as you searched for any healing herbs and flowers at your feet. You were careful to keep your eyes on your surroundings, ever cautious and weary not to let your guard down. 

When the heat of the sun grew too strong to bear, you paused and ate your meager lunch in the shade of a great old tree. Again, your thoughts returned to Boromir and how eager he had been to show you this place and others like it, where he had spent the joyful days of his youth. He brought you to these foothills as often as he could after you married—though, back then you weren’t too concerned with looking for herbs. You spent most of those outings laying in the shade beneath the trees, with your dress rucked up past your knees and with Boromir between your legs. 

With a heavy sigh of frustration, you rose to your feet and vigorously dusted the bread crumbs off your trousers, then returned to your task. 

Another hour or so passed before the sun finally began its slow, downward arc towards the west and you knew it was time to turn back. As capable as you were with your blade, you still did not wish to over-stay your welcome and risk getting caught in the mountains after dark. 

You sorted the herbs and flowers you’d found and carefully tucked them into your saddle bag. Just as you readied to mount your horse and begin the downward trek off the mountain, you glimpsed a small splatter of red out the corner of your eye. 

A few paces away, tucked at the base of a tree, lay a patch of wild strawberries.

You could hardly believe your eyes! You knelt down and inspected the tiny fruit, no bigger than your fingertips, and found enough ripe berries to fill the palm of your hand. Your mouth watered at the sight of them, but you resisted the urge to devour them all at once. Instead, you set aside two berries, then carefully collected the rest into your belt pouch where they wouldn’t get crushed.

You ate one fruit and held out the other your horse. Her velvet nose brushed against your palm, huffing loudly as she inhaled the scent, then gently ate it from your hand. 

You laughed and patted her forehead, then climbed into the saddle and took off back towards Osgiliath. 

With luck, the strawberries would keep until tomorrow. Boromir adored them.

———

The chill of early evening made its unwelcome return before you made it back to Osgiliath. And by the time you left your horse at the stables, your fingers were nearly frozen. You gathered your cloak tightly around your shoulders and wondered if perhaps the sweetness of a strawberry might help remind you of the warmth of the sun. 

You popped another piece of fruit into your mouth as you neared the exit, but nearly choked on it when you caught sight of the horse near the door. 

Boromir’s horse. 

You blinked dumbly at the large stallion, staring at its unmistakable silver-gray coat and shiny black mane. The horse regarded you momentarily and, as if he understood your confusion, offered you a contented sigh and friendly nicker before returning to his feed. 

You bolted out the doors, uncaring for decorum or propriety as you ran as fast as your feet could take you. Rushing through the tiny courtyard that separated the stables and your home, you shouted a hasty greeting at your bewildered groundskeeper and at the two familiar guards that kept watch outside your doors.

The humble halls of your home blurred past you unnoticed and you leapt up the stairs, taking them two at a time, barely slowing as you burst through the bedroom doors. 

All your forward momentum disappeared in a heartbeat once you laid eyes on Boromir.  

He reclined in the armchair near the window with a mess of papers in his lap, wearing naught but his undershirt and trousers. Gone were his coat and uniform and weapons, and any such signs of his months-long military campaign. 

It was as if he had never left. 

Your heart flooded with relief and exhilaration and desire, and yet you remained frozen in place by the door. 

Boromir seemed equally transfixed, or perhaps startled by your sudden and abrupt arrival. He looked you up and down and took in your disheveled appearance, though his expression remained unreadably neutral.

“You’re early,” you blurted breathlessly.

“I am,” Boromir stated simply, and the soft velvet of his voice warmed every corner of your body. 

He set aside the papers and rose to his feet. “I found my self in urgent need to climb into my warm bed and hold tight my Lady Wife, so I rode through the night and into the morning to get home as quickly as possible.”

He approached you slowly, his steps leisurely and unhurried, and stopped just out of arm’s reach. 

“Imagine my surprise then, when I arrived home and found my bed cold and empty, and my wife nowhere to be found.”

Boromir’s cool facade cracked, starting with the slight curl of his lips. 

You followed suit with your own coy smile. “Well here I stand, husband. What do you wait fo—” 

Boromir reached for you with great urgency and pulled you into his warm embrace. His movement was so sudden you hardly had time to react and collided with the wall of his chest. You buried your face there, against the bare skin that peeked from beneath his shirt, and breathed in deeply as his hold on you tightened.

“How I missed you,” he pressed his lips into your hair and muttered almost to himself.

“I dreamt of you nearly every night,” you confessed in return.

With both of you unwilling to let the other go, the moment drew on longer and longer, until finally Boromir broke the silence once more.  

“My love?” he asked, his question laced with mischievous curiosity. He pulled back enough to look down at you and caressed your cheek with the backs of his fingers. “I do not begrudge your absence, though I recall we had an agreement that you’d not leave home without an escort.”

You hummed thoughtfully and your eyes fluttering shut as you leaned into his touch. “As I remember it, I agreed to bring an escort whenever I go to the city. I had no need of guards today, as I was in the mountains.” 

Boromir’s slow caress of your skin halted.

“You were in the mountains all day? Alone?” he repeated and all the mirth drained from his voice. 

“Do not worry, I am not a fool,” you replied calmly. “I did not go unarmed.”

“That does not put my mind at ease,” he sighed, exasperated.  

“Then perhaps this will,” you said sweetly and mollified him with a kiss. 

He melted into you without resistance as your lips met his in a soft embrace that slowly grew deeper. Your hands roamed the broad width of his shoulders til the tension in his muscles gave way beneath your expert touch. 

And when your lips finally—reluctantly—parted, he gazed down at you with a look of delight and wonder.   

“You taste of strawberries,” he murmured in surprise. 

Grinning, you held out your belt pouch between you and revealed the treasure you had gathered in the mountains. 

“Wild strawberries!” Boromir laughed in surprise. “And so early in the year…how?”

“Wild fruit does as it pleases,” you shrugged. 

“Yes,” he said and his face lit up with that brilliant smile of his that you missed so much, “so it would seem.” 

You pulled a strawberry from your pouch and held it up to him. Wordlessly, he parted his lips for you, never taking his eyes off of yours. You placed the berry at his lips, dragging it teasingly across his bottom lip and painting it red with sweet juice, before you finally pushed the fruit onto his tongue. 

“What was it you were saying about slipping into a warm bed?” you asked sweetly as you watched his tongue swipe over his bottom lip.

“Let me show you,” he grinned again and pulled you up into his arms.

[lookatmycat9445]

[lookatmycat9445]

Young prince Arthur exploring the castle bc his emotionally and mostly physically absent father doesn’t care what he does as long as he gets his studies done. He pretends he’s a brave knight with a small wooden sword in hand and ventures down in the belly of the castle and stumbles upon a cavern under the castle. It’s not long before Kilgharrah lands before him and laughs at the young child before him, a baby really. This is no Once and Future King. But…Arthur does not scream and run, he holds up his wooden sword, shaking with terror as he stares down the ferocious beast, full of courage. And Kilgharrah stares and stares and stares before sighing heavily and going, “Fine. I’ll adopt you. Stop looking at me like that.”

Anyways, Arthur grows up visiting Kilgharrah and hearing about prophecies and destiny. He watches Kilgharrah perform small bits of magic and grows up knowing the truth of what’s happened. By the time merlin arrives in Camelot, Arthur is pro-magic and anti-Uther but holy fuck is he the most arrogant prick of all time. Not only did he grow up a prince to be king, he grew up knowing he was to be a king of legend. Merlin bullies him relentlessly like in canon and everything happens as it did.

But Arthur visits Kilgharrah for advice of magical threats and leaves like right before Merlin visits him for advice. Kilgharrah never says anything bc he likes to watch them be idiots. Arthur and Merlin sneaking behind each other’s back to use/consult magic (users) to help solve their issues and never telling the other. But Arthur keeps failing. He goes to find a powerful enough Druid or Sorcerer to combat magic from a High Priestess and he can’t find anyone. However, as if by magic (ha ha ha), the threat is neutralized without Arthur’s interference. Baby boy is so confused.

This goes on for years and slowly breaks down his confidence as he thought that being the Once and Future King meant conquering all these threats and protecting his people yet…he can’t. He hasn’t properly neutralized a threat in a while, bc I mean sometimes it happens but the other times he’s knocked out for SOME FUCKING REASON. So he’s moping in his room and Merlin’s like “What’s wrong?” In a super soft voice when he sees Arthur’s kicked puppy look.

Arthur barely thinks about it before telling Merlin. He’s wanted to for years but he never wanted to drag Merlin into danger by getting him involved in treason bc while his father would be irate with him, Uther wouldn’t hesitate before chopping off Merlin’s head. But Merlin has always been there for Arthur, and rebuilt his confidence despite the other times where he’s humbling him. So Arthur tells him everything. And Merlin is silent. And quiet. And silent. And quiet. And silent. And quiet. And-

He starts cursing the dragon angrily and drags Arthur down through the castle to Kilgharrah’s cavern. The dragon is already there laughing his ass off. Arthur is confused on how Merlin knew where to go. Merlin is shouting curses up at the dragon. Kilgharrah just looks down at them as he laughs and is like, “Finally, the Once and Future King and Emrys have united.”

Arthur (grew up knowing he had someone out there who was “half of his soul” as Kilgharrah said which he took to mean his soulmate and has been fantasizing about meeting this mysterious and powerful Emrys and…other things… Well, until he met Merlin. Then the fantasies featured all three of them) is…staring at Merlin wide eyed and flustered and a little turned on at how the small human is shouting angrily at the big dragon as if the big dragon couldn’t just stomp the both of the small humans or roast them alive. Arthur’s fantasies merge Merlin and Emrys together and it’s back to just the two of them.

Merlin is grumpy bc he had to hide his magic from Arthur for YEARS only to find out that the clotpole was ON HIS FUCKING SIDE?????? AND THE DAMN LIZARD KNEW ABOUT IT????? Oh, Merlin wants a set of Dragon scale armor and Kilgharrah’s golden scales would suit him nicely, he thinks. He’ll skin the damn beast himself-

[lookatmycat9445]

Short: Finding Merlin

Arthur: What do you mean you can't find Merlin?

Leon: I mean we can't find him, Sire. We've asked all the servants and before you ask, yes we've checked the Tavern.

Arthur: *Paces* Then search the forests I want him found understood!?

Leon: Yes Sire. *Walks out the door but hears the King mutter*

Arthur: *mutters* Idiot thinks he can escape this marriage... Ha just wait until I show him his wedding robes, he'll look like a noble and absolutely hate it. 👰🏻‍♂️

Leon: *suffers and leaves quickly*

Gwaine: So what did the princess do this time?

Leon: Apparently he gave Merlin his mother's sigil awhile back and Merlin only just found out, thanks to Gwen, what a noble offering a sigil means to their intended.

Gwaine: No way! The princess proposed marriage to Merlin without even telling him?!

Leon the long suffering: Indeed. Merlin is a commoner and while he has improved since he first arrived here, he still doesn't know all the intricacies of nobility.

Gwaine: So Merlin got mad and went off to who knows where?

Leon: It would seem.

Gwaine: How long do we have before his royalness starts going off to find Merlin himself?

Random Servant: *Shouts* The King is gone!

Gwaine: ... 😅

Leon: ... 😭

Merlin: *Returns dragging an unconscious and dirty Arthur on horseback*

Gwen: Oh, what happened? Did you get attacked? Are you both OK? Where have you been Merlin? Everyone has been looking for you.

Merlin: I'm ok Gwen, I went to talk about something important. Nothing bad happened, I left a note with Gaius on where I went.

Elyan: Ah, he got called on an emergency birth with one of the down town ladies, hasn't been back yet.

Merlin: *Huffs* And so that was reason for this idiot to go off and start a kingdom wide hunt for me? The Dollphead...

Gwen: *sigh* We did try to tell him he was being a bit paranoid. But he thought after your argument on the sigil he might have scared you off... *Looks to the unconscious King resting on the horse* What happened to him?

Merlin: Pfft, *smirks* the King fainted.

Elyan: He... Fainted...

Merlin: Yup. I found the idiot riding like a madman and when he finally calmed down enough to actually listen to me I told him I just went off to talk with Kilgharrah and Aithusa.

Gwen: Ok, that explains where you went, but then what happened to make Arthur faint?

Merlin: Aha, well... 😅

[BEFORE, IN THE FOREST]

Arthur: So what was it that you need to talk to dragons for? Did you get your answers? *Trying and failing not to stare at Merlin while walking beside him*

Merlin: Hmm I did *Reaches out to grasp Arthur's hand and paused their walking*

Arthur: Merlin?

Merlin: *Breathes deeply before taking something from his pocket and into Arthur's hand*

Arthur's heart dropped when he felt a round shape of a coin and it showed in his eyes what he believes this to be.

Merlin: *Noticed Arthur's sudden sad mood, rolled his eyes* Dollphead, opened your hand before jumping to conclusions! 🙄

Arthur: *Opens hand* Wait, is this...

Merlin: *Squirms and fidgets* I wanted to ask Kilgharrah about Dragon Lord Courting triditions. And well, he wasn't too informed in that but knew of Dragon Lords giving a Dragon scale as gifts and I asked Aithusa for one of hers, being her Dragon Lord after all... And well he said I could shape it, so I used my magic to carve it and well, being a dragon lord and you a Pendragon I thought why not Twin dragons?

In Arthurs hand was a white-silver sigil that shines faintly with Twin dragons circling each other and behind them he recognises the druids triskel symbol.

Arthur: *In Awe and too speechless for words*

Merlin: It also is embedded with my magic and acts like a... Connection between us. I'll be to find you as long as you have it and you'll be able to find me. My magic would guide you. Maybe then you won't have to go on a kingdom wide search for me. *Laughs*

Arthur: *Smiles* Heh, so a Merlin Finder? About time, do you know how hard it is to find idiot warlocks lately?

Merpin: *Smiles fondly* Prat.

Merlin: *Looks serious* That's not all either. Arthur, your a prat and a dollop head. I know I tell you you're always a bit thick in the head but I never knew how much until I realised the significance of your mother's sigil. You had to go about proposing to me in the most infuriating way without even telling me.

Merlin: But I know more then anyone how good of a man you are, how much you work to be fair to your people. And the thought of you having those kind of feelings for me was too good to be true. Because I would have said yes. Always I'd say yes. I feel like I was born to love you Arthur. Prophecys and destiny may play a part, but I would always chose you.

Arthur: *Dumbfounded*

Merlin: *Rolls his eyes* I'm proposing cabbagehead. I'll marry you. ❤️💍

Arthur: ... 😳🤯💞 *Faints and falls into a puddle*

Merlin: ...

[END OF FLASHBACK]

Merlin: *Blushes with a laugh* I accepted his proposal. He ended up going into shock after and fell over into a small puddle.

Gwen: Oh! 😃 Merlin I'm so happy for you!

Elyan: Yeah, cheers mate. *Mutters to himself* Thank god all the pining is over.

Arthur: *Wakes up* I had the most fantastic dream! Merlin gave me a sigil and accepted my proposal~!

Merlin: *Speaks from the fireplace* It wasn't a dream Arthur!

Arthur: 😍 You love me! 💖

Merlin: 🙄❤️ *Walks up and kisses Arthur* Yes I do.

Arthur: 💘🥴💕 Merlin Loves me~! Merlin will marry me~

Merlin: *Fond and in love* 🥰

The (Merlin's) Knights: FINALLY!

Castle Servants: FINALLY!

All of Camelot: FINALLY!

Kilgharrah: The two halves have finally become one.

Aithusa: *Chirps*

[lookatmycat9445]

Mordred reveals he’s a Druid and can perform magic and Arthur who was like just neutral on magic and was truly only disappointed in Morgana for turning to such violent actions, not her magic, was just like “Alright. My favorite newest knight can’t be a knight if he has magic, the law says he’s to die, so I’ll just get rid of the law.” So now Mordred is the out and proud sorcerer in Camelot who helps Arthur through repealing the laws and learning more about magic and Merlin is Seething. He already hated Mordred but now he loathes this motherfucker.

Arthur thinks it’s because of the magic which doesn’t make sense but there’s no other reason why Merlin could possibly hate this sweet young man. Merlin doesn’t really hate anyone! So it must be the magic. So Arthur starts going on tangents about the things he’s learned and how his father was wrong about so much and all that to try and push Merlin to accepting Mordred but it really just pisses Merlin off more because like. Yeah. He knew that. And why are you hyping up Mordred so much? Guys a loser!

Anyways the rest of the knights pick up on Merlin’s disdain for Mordred and think it to be prejudice because of Mordred’s magic and heritage as a Druid. Percival is hurt by this because he was raised by Druids and he had thought that Merlin would be accepting and loving of this as that’s the kind of man he’s always shown himself to be. Gwaine wants to stand with Merlin because that’s his boy y’know? But honestly Gwaine kinda really likes the little twerp and he doesn’t hold any anti-magic beliefs and he doesn’t want to stand with anti-magic so he’s just kind of awkwardly hovering in the background. Elyan is a sweetheart who loves Merlin and Mordred both and wants to keep the peace while pushing Merlin to be more accepting so he just trails after Merlin until their alone and he’ll start talking about how scary it must be for magic to be free again but if he gives it a chance, he could find himself really loving it.

Anyways I just think it’d be funny if Mordred convinced Arthur to repeal the ban and Merlin was Pissed Off by this and got all pouty about it and began to hate Mordred more openly and people think it’s because he’s anti-magic. Merlin never owns up to being a sorcerer because he’s lied for this long and he’s procrastinating coming clean to Arthur because he knows Arthur’s gonna be Pissed as well. Also because that’s scary. Anyways. People think Merlin’s a bigot. That’s all.

[lookatmycat9445]

hello !! i adore your work, so i was thinking about asking for a rq about the weasley twins x reader (if you don't like fred x reader x george it's totally fine, if that's the case then fred x reader is just as perfect) where they were dating back at hogwarts or at least have a situationship until she twins leave because of umbridge

and mind you, they did invite the reader to come with them, but she refuses because reader needed to end her last school year (due to her ambitions) and didn't want to leave her younger brother alone at hogwarts with umbridge there

so can you write a scenario where, two years later (NO WAR at all 💔) the twins receive a letter from her with tickets for a quidditch game? from a team they like nonetheless. they go to the game and find out that the reader, who was a hufflepuff chaser back at school, now managed to become a professional chaser and invited them to watch her first game?

pretty please! im sorry if this became a huge text lmao once again i adore your work and i hope you have a lovely day 🌷

Chase Me

My dear sweet Anon, I cannot apologise enough for how long this has taken me to complete for you. Life has been crazy and it’s in no way a reflection of your ask because this was super fun to write. I hope I did your idea justice!! 🖤

Warnings: slight past angst, longing, heartbreak. Happy endings. Reader is a hufflepuff- set after Canon. NO WAR. No mention of mouldy voldy or death. Mentions of Umbridge and her nastiness. Not beta read nor spellchecked.

Word count: 2.8k

"Oi Fred! Mail's here!" George shouts up the winding, wooden stairs as he unlatches the window where an owl was not so patiently waiting to drop off the thick letter held tightly in it's beak. George takes the letter from the gorgeous grey owl and pats it once on the head, frowning slightly when it simply flies away without so much as a chirp.

His frown deepens when he looks at the front of the brown envelope, seeing a multitude of stamps he didn't recognise and very neat handwriting that listed both his and Fred's names with delicate precision.

"Bit early for mail isn't it?" Fred says as he walks down the stairs to the main shop, still buttoning up his shirt with the arms rolled up, his untied bow-tie hanging around his neck.

"It wasn't Easy," George mutters, still examining the letter in his hands, trying to decipher the stamps. 'Easy' was their shop owl, an inside joke of sorts as it turned out once he was purchased that he was just as erratic as Errol once was, leading them through both call out 'easy!' Whenever the bird neared any glass panes or ledges, most notably because he never slowed down upon descent. Plus Fred said that Easy Weasley would be a great name for a pet and George had to agree, though he feared it was setting up a lifelong curse upon any animal that they might acquire, knowing Fred would want to keep the theme going. Easy, Peasy, wheezy, Breezy... it probably wouldn't end there.

"What's that?" Fred asks, noticing the brown envelope in his twin's hands, just finishing up his top button.

"Don't know," George says, still examining it.

"That's because you have to open them to read them mate," Fred jokes, but doesn't get the reaction he hoped for, seeing George too transfixed to shoot him the mock-glare he'd anticipated.

"Does this writing look familiar to you?" George hands Fred the envelope but doesn't take his eyes off it.

"A bit," Fred says with a slight squint as he looks at the neat writing on the front, quite liking the way his name was written in the fancy script. Fred bites the bullet and opens the envelope, his eyes drifting quizzically at the unique stamps on the front.

He pulls out the letter first as it fills the top of the envelope, still feeling other things in the bottom that he could get to later. The piece of paper is folded and heavy, so opaque that he can't see any writing through it.

At the top of the letter, even before he can begin to try and pull it open, is a little piece of card paper clipped onto the letter, stating 'To be read by Messers F and G Weasley of 93 Diagon Alley only.'

They cast a quick glance at each other in trepidation at the unusual literature and Fred begins to take off the card attached to the letter.

To his surprise, underneath exactly where the card had been temporarily fixed were the words 'I solemnly swear...'

Fred doesn't hesitate and pulls out his wand, tapping the paper gently and uttering the words he'd not spoken in so long, but remembered with great fondness and complete recollection.

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good."

The paper immediately begins to unseal itself, the paper opening up like a friendly howler and handwritten words begin to fill the lines that have started appearing on the page.

The second Fred sees the opening line, he knows exactly who it's from, as does George.

'To my favourite jokesters'

"Well bloody hell," Fred says, slightly bewildered by the turn of events as he leans back, resting his hips against the counter whilst he gathers himself. In complete honesty, he's fighting back a ball of emotion at the back of his throat as he takes in the words on the page from the one that got away. She'd been everything to him since that first meeting on the train, the little Hufflepuff who gave him a run for his money both on and off the quidditch pitch. He's been convinced she was the one, his endgame, the love of his life- until his twin had piped up about his own feelings for her.

They made it work eventually, found a rhythm that suited them all, through trial and error and everything in between. They found love, the three of them with her being the rose between two thorns, the center of their world.

No one hated Dolores Umbridge more than Fred Weasley, not even Harry, the entire nation of wizards, witches or any of the wronged mythical creatures. The toad faced witch had ruined everything inserting herself into their school and their lives, spoiling the happiest time in his whole life and putting a rather forceful stop on all the plans he'd made. They'd talked about it since their fifth year, when the plans really started to take off. They'd finish school together, find the money to start the shop and they'd all move in together in the little flat above the shop. Eventually he and George would make enough money for a real house, just like she deserved and she'd be free to do anything she wanted to do, anything all all with the constant support of her two loves.

But that didn't happen, not even slightly. Umbridge had made it impossible for them to stay, she'd forced them to leave and though they did it in a spectacular way that would no doubt be the talk of hogwarts for many years following and a person high in Fred's own personal life- it was also one of the saddest times.

His love had stayed at the school, to finish her studies and to protect her little brother Michael who had unfortunately seemed to be under Umbridge's radar, meaning that he was far from safe. She couldn't leave and they couldn't stay. It was heartbreaking to leave her there, to face the few months alone without her. Everything seemed strange between he and George, always knowing that there was something vital missing. But then the weeks bled into months and that eventually turned into over a year as she got a job right after school, taking her away from them this time. They focused on the shop and on their products, keeping themselves busy where they could so that they wouldn't feel that constant void of her presence but late at night it was hard to deny.

George had taken it the worst and being the older brother, Fred had naturally tried to help him the best he could. He'd purposefully give George jobs to do that would require concentration, to set out problems that didn't have an answer, just so he'd forget about her for a while, but it didn't always work. There was a sadness about George that was never there before, always the happier, gentler and more sensitive of the two, these days he was quite often known as the quieter one too. He's happy, of course he is, he's living his dream and they are successful- he still laughs, jokes and pranks just as much as before but there's always just a little piece of him that is gone.

"It's really from her?" George says quietly, his eyes scanning back and forth over the document repeatedly, as if he can't take it in enough. The tone of his voice pulls at Fred's heartstrings, the sadness seeping out once again.

"Looks like it mate," Fred says, trying to remain calm and neutral though his pulse is a stark juxtaposition to his outward demeanour.

"Two tickets for the Sandacre Sirens, how the bloody hell did she get hold of these?" George asks, seeming to come to life once the realisation sinks in of what exactly is in front of him. He lifts the tickets up to his face fit closer inspection, holding them a little too tightly to be casual and inspects the tickets, noticing that they were really good seats- really really good seats. His favourite team too, though admittedly he'd been lax in his support of quidditch lately due to being so busy with the shop, another part of his old self he'd lost.

George had never fretted so much over what to wear. He grew up in a poor family with little resources and even less care of fashion or quality of being presentable. He was the tallest of all the Weasley's, even a little bit over Fred though it was never mentioned, meaning that for as long as he could remember his clothes had never truly fit him, most of them being hand-me-downs from Charlie or Bill (he'd outgrown Percy by his 12th birthday). Now they had money, he and Fred had nice suits for the shop and a selection of better fitting clothes for the rest of the time but he didn't have a single thing that would be good enough for seeing her again. Maybe Fred would know what to wear...

The crowd was booming, nearly every seat in the stadium filled, with loud chanting and joyous singing echoing around the stadium from both teams. The atmosphere was electric and chaotic- just like the twins liked it. She'd been very vague in her instructions of where to meet or how to find each other and so the twins mutually decided to take their seats, hoping to find her there in the neighbouring seat beside theirs. Only, there was no seat beside theirs, or at least it was just the occupier of the seat was certainly not y/n. Their names were written on little magical signs that could not be removed even with magic, scrawled in her own neat handwriting that flew away like a little bird once the twins prepared to take their reserved seats.

More confused than ever, they shared a confused look, near identical in confusion with eyebrows pulled into semi-frowns.

"Messers Weasley? Your refreshments," an usher said from beside them, enchanting a tray to hover in front of their spaces, filled to the brim with all sorts of delicious treats and beverages-  personalised to each twin. Fred couldn't help but kick his lips when his eyes fixed upon the fizzy bottle of dandelion and burdock and George's mouth watered upon seeing the butterbeer tarts stacked up on the tray, knowing they were just for him.

George squints, looking at the note on the tray in her distinctive writing, urging them to check under their seats. He cracks up laughing when he feels exactly what was there, seeing Fred do the same. Under George's seat was a thick knitted scarf with stripes of orange and purple, the colours of the sandacre sirens, as well as a big puffy keyring and a little commercial sized face pint kit. Under Fred's seat, is a matching scarf and face paint kit plus a ridiculously big hat in the same colours.

They know instantly- it’s the exact same thing they wore to the Quidditch World Cup back in 1994, when y/n was with them.

"Excuse me, have you seen y/n?" Fred asks the attendant, trying to call him back as he prepares to walk away. To his confusion, the usher simply stares back at him with equal confusion before letting out a humourless chuckle as he walks away, leaving both of the twins perplexed.

“To your seats, the match will begin in five minutes,” the announcement sounds out loudly, urging all ticket holders to claim their seats. The twins look around in nervous anticipation, excited for the game but more confused than ever when the seats around them fill up, completely ending their hope that she would appear beside them. Why had she invited them?

The other team flew onto the pitch with a roar from one half of the crowd, each player flying through the magically held banner in perfect synchronisation as they played up to the crowd.

“Oi, look!” George says to Fred with a. Less than gentle nudge as he extends his finger, pointing to one of the large screens directly across from them which had a large message printed onto the screen.

“A warm welcome to our new Siren chaser, Y/n L/n!”

Beside it was a photo of her, slightly older than they remembered but still as breathtakingly gorgeous as she stood with a proud smile, clutching her broom and dressed in her chaser finest.

Just then, a huge explosion of fireworks occurred on the pitch and their attention was dragged away from her photo, seeing that all the players had appeared through the residual cloud of smoke. Their eyes searched frantically, almost perfectly in sync as they tried to find the once familiar form of their love.

There she was. She looked majestic, proud and ever so slightly nervous as she beamed at the crowd, graciously accepting their cheers and feeding off their energy. Her eyes searched the crowd secretively but Fred noticed, seeing her gaze flick between the stands.

Their eyes suddenly met, very briefly, and Fred watched in wonder as she momentarily lost her balance upon the broom just for a second as she gazed upon the two brothers who were here just for her. Her smile widened still as she smiled at the two men she had loved so very much and in gaining some form of composure, she fired off a quick, flirtatious wink towards them before zooming off to her starting position followed by the starting whistle. It was then, Fred reached down and with the pride of a dear old friend and lover, placed the comically large hat upon his head and cracked open one of the face paints, drawing a little flag onto George’s cheek, though he hardly noticed, and then got his twin to do the same- he’d learnt how uncomfortable a full face of face paint was from last time and was not making the same mistake.

“Write her name,” Fred urged George, unable to keep the smile off his face.

After that, Fred could feel George’s tension all throughout the match, even without looking at him. If he sat any further forward upon the edge of his seat, he’d surely end up a pile of limbs on the floor, his entire focus solely on her. Fred smirked, seeing her eyes flicker over to them whenever they could, though everyone else would assume she was searching for the quaffle, or an opening to take the shot- but Fred knew better.

She played wondrously, an undoubted success in her first game with the Siren’s- cementing her newfound reputation of excellence in the quidditch community. Ten points here, ten points there and they were quickly adding up, creating a smooth win over the other team. She was quick, swift and agile, her flying skills incomparable as she made it look effortless- like a form of graceful dance. It was enchanting to watch her, entrancing almost.

Fred almost leapt out of his seat when an advancing bludger almost caught the tail of her broom and whether it was his inner beater or his inner boyfriend, he instinctively almost reached out to bat it away, just as he had done so many times before. She avoided it, just, and had firm words with the beater flying above her who had done very little to protect her as she nearly did a haversacking foul, just to avoid the rogue bludger.

Finally, when neither Fred nor George could wait for the game to be over just so they could see you, the final buzzer rang, the lights in the stadium turning orange and purple to denote the overwhelming win to the Sirens. The roar of the crowd was near deafening as more fireworks erupted around the players who were cheering, crying and hugging midair. George and Fred were instantly on their feet, trying to cheer louder than anyone else in the stadium just so she’d hear, their long arms rising up and proudly holding their scarves above their head. It had been a magical night for Quidditch, and even more so for the Siren’s new chaser. The little hufflepuff chaser turned professional right before their eyes.

It was then, watching her turn directly to the two twins mid-celebration and seeing her smile brighten even further that Fred knew he wouldn’t let this night end with them parting once again. He turned to George, seeing him just as enraptured as he himself felt, and knew he didn’t need to ask if Georgie felt the same way.

Never again would they let her get away.

[lookatmycat9445]

a beginner's guide to stealing a heart modern jacaerys targaryen x fem!reader.

synopsis: opening the most popular flower shop in town came with its perks — everyday business and a cute regular customer who comes in every week with a new excuse for the sake of new flowers or so he says. tags — fluff, loser jace, aged-up characters. jace is 25, reader is 23. slight cursing, florist au. benji/davos and aeron are little matchmakers. confessions through flower meanings, slow burn. love at first sight, soulmate au.

a/n: thank you to @jacesvelaryons for the inspiration and for those that dragged me out of my jace drought era. this one is for my flower girls.

jace nation taglist (open!) : @jacaerysgf @hxtd @benjinotes @imissyoudarling @rinisfruity14 @ambrosia-v-black @littleblackcatinwonderland @smurfelle @nanaldy @bryscorner @star611 @astrxq @reyndaisy @intheheartoftheking @gracexthoughts @nixtape-foryou @starrgurl46 @ethereal-athalia @stelleduarte @chuuritoz @melsunshine @frombloodandfire @still-jon-snow @velaryonbastard @vee-mage @vividxpages

The sign was now flipped, shining against the rays of sunlight, you took a deep breath as you stepped back — the welcome-in sign now staring right back at you. You smiled, your fingers interlocking in front of you as you bounced on your feet, the joy running through your veins.

“Alright, you can stop bouncing now, let me take your picture!”

The sound of your best friend of many years made you turn, your cheeks still blazing with the amount of laughter and smiling you were emitting all morning.

“I won’t take it if you’re not with me Benji,” your tone sounded demanding, but Benjicot knew better than to know you were serious. He rolled his eyes, the camera in his hands was now in someone’s ownership. He snapped his head towards the thief finding himself face to face with his boyfriend, Aeron Bracken.

“Alright now! Get closer!”

Benjicot playfully nipped his boyfriend’s finger causing Aeron to burst out laughing, you smiled from the sidelines, your heart pounding as if it was ready to jump out of your chest. This moment, you wish you could frame it forever.

Benji threw you over his shoulder causing you to laugh as you started to throw weak insults at your best friend who laughed with you, Aeron did not hold back and used the opportunity to snap multiple pictures.

In the middle of September, when the sun was setting and the chill of the wind began to pick up, to you it felt the warmest. You had your best friends help you open a business you sacrificed so much labor in — Everlast, was now yours and open for business.

The flowers scattered around your desk as your rummaged through the mess of your laces and twirls. You began to curse under your breath when you couldn’t find the note your client had left you, indicating instructions of what flowers they wanted and by when.

“Ha! I found you,” you muttered as you looked through the invoice, mumbling again you began to work. The flower shop had a soft, welcoming aura that made anyone that walked through the door smile. You worked quietly and quick, humming to the song that currently played through the store.

Dringgggg!

You heard the door of your shop open, “I’ll be right with you in a minute!” you exclaimed as you snipped off the bottom of a rose with scissors. You did not hear a reply, you took it as the client was looking into the flowers.

You stood, taking off your thick gloves off, facing the stranger that walked through the door with a smile on your face you paused before welcoming them.

In front of you stood a man, he had short brown curls that reached his chin, and his eyes sparkled like rare gems, if you looked closely, you would see the way his eyes had a mixture of different shades of brown. He was tall, average, but taller than you are slightly. His lips were plumped and shiny as if he applied lip balm. He was very handsome which caused you to clear your throat as you shook off the mid-pause you had made.

He stood in front of the front desk moving side to side as his fingers tapped silently onto the glass of your desk. He seemed nervous.

You bit your lip slightly, your smile never falling off your face, “Hi, welcome! How can I help you?”

His eyes widened, and quickly darted around the room as if looking for something, he opened his mouth to speak but then closed it. You noticed his cheeks got red as it spread across his nose. You tried hard not to laugh, so you spoke, saving him from any more trouble.

“Are you looking for a particular flower? I have many that can suit your tastes,” you spoke softly, leaning forward just a little to show the now red-faced male some of the popular bouquets you had.

He suddenly raised a shaky hand and pushed his hair back, licking his lips he spoke, his voice bringing you to a state of comfort, you found it odd that this stranger had such impact on you. His voice touched you deep, wrapping you in warm hug.

“I u-um,” he cleared his throat, coughing, “I’m looking for flowers f-for my um…” he paused as he yet had not looked towards you, his eyes still looking around, searching.

“M-my mom. Yeah! My mom. I’m looking for flowers for her, an arrangement of a sort,” he spoke fast, stumbling over a few words. You quirked up an eyebrow, finding him adorable.

You opted to saying a thought you should’ve kept in your head, but your mouth ran quicker than your brain, “Your mom?”

The tip of his ears to the bridge of his nose became so red his eyes became more brighter, as if the blush on his skin enhanced the color of his eyes. You pressed your lips tighter holding in a giggle that was threatening to erupt — the stranger was too cute.

You smiled, your lips stretching wide as your chest rumbled with a soft chuckle, “Alright, Mr. Buying - Flowers - For - His - Mother on a Wednesday morning, let me show you our arrangements”

He followed behind you in stumbling steps, his fingers fidgeting, the curls that sat on top of his head spread forward covering the caramel eyes you were starting to enjoy.

“Okay, so we have these, they do range from a reasonable price, but it does change due to the flowers you’ll want to add or the decoration of course,” you were smiling, explaining the flowers you created for display, Jacaerys only looked down on you, his heart thumping in a rhythm that made him feel invincible.

You picked up a bouquet, smelling the fresh aroma of its petals, the smell of fresh lilies, and sunflowers wrapping you like a summer evening. Jacaerys only thought you looked beautiful, as you stood with a flower bouquet in your hands, your hair spread behind your shoulders, the jumper you had on, you were a dream.

“Is it for a special occasion? Birthday?” your voice knocked him out of his thoughts as he scrambled to think of another excuse, he used the most generic one he could think of.

His eyes avoided yours as he looked behind you at the rows of flowers, he opened his mouth to speak, his voice sounding like a haunted door, he cringed — clearing his throat he spoke again, “U-um, just because. F-Flowers should show how one feels n-no?”

You bit your bottom lip again - a habit you were trying to get over -, your eyes narrowing, the stranger in front of you was strangely attractive, odd but you couldn’t help feeling a flutter inside your stomach.

“They do actually. A color and a flower explain what we feel, every flower speaks its definition, it’s delicate, fragile and if given with true emotion, the flower lasts longer than its expectancy.”

You spoke with longing, Jacaerys tilted his head trying to read you. He did not know why he came into the shop in the first place, he just wanted to connect with you someway. You always opened the shop with steps that made you look as if you flew against the wind, a smile so bright it bought warmth in his heart.

Every morning as he went for a cup of tea and coffee for his best friend, he saw you across the street, flipping the welcome sign towards the street with a bright smile, it was then one day he decided to answer the curiosity of an unknown connection he felt towards you, to tighten his hold on the magnetic pull that pulled him to stand where he is now.

You sighed, shaking your head at the thought of your mother’s voice as she reminded you how every flower held a story yet to be told by the owner that bought them. You faced the stranger again, smiling softly.

“Any ideas what you’d like to purchase today?”

The stranger gulped as he yet again avoided your eyes, searching around he sighed, “I’m afraid I don’t know what I’m looking for.”

Finally, you released a laugh bringing Jacaerys’ poor heart to skyrocket, “That’s fine, most men don’t know what they’re purchasing when they enter a flower shop — you’re in luck however.”

Jacaerys knew if he looked at you, he would never look away anymore, so he leaped forward, taking a chance. He faced you, his eyes capturing the beauty of your eyes, as if the force that connected you both wrapped him, he gasped softly. You were more than beautiful, your eyes spoke of stories he wanted to know, a mystery he would spend hours trying to understand.

You were also mesmerized, the caramel eyes that now locked with yours had you gripping your flowers. The breeze of the AC you had on the store suddenly felt warm. The stranger captured you in ways you weren’t sure if it was meant to happen.

“Why?” he asked, the flush on his skin still kissed his entire face.

You breathed in, before smiling again, “You have me.”

His cheeks were now blazing with a red color you grew to fall in love with, he looked away with a small smile on his lips.

“Truly, I am in luck then.”

You nodded, tapping your fingers into the glass table for a couple of seconds to think of your next move. Finally, you moved around your desk standing in front of him.

“Okay, so I made these fresh bouquets just this morning, because they are for your mother, I can give them to you cheaper than usual, a gift from me to you, as well for first time purchase!”

Jacaerys with blazing cheeks, quirked his lip in a small smirk, he found you beyond adorable, special with a heart full of dedication for the passion over flowers and aiming for success.

“You’re amazing,” he mumbled, dazed. You stopped mid-sentence, your eyes wide as the same color he had on his cheeks spread on your own.

“What?”

Jacaerys paused, then as quickly as the flush on cheeks came, the paleness overtook it, he took a step back. He was cursing himself for speaking his thoughts out loud. He ruined the chance to talk to you more, dammit.

“What?” he repeated after you to disguise what he had said. You were blushing; your stomach filled with endless flutters. You watched as he struggled to make a cover for his embarrassment his curls did no effort to help him hide, however. The blush on his face was now a cherry red, if it was not for your own blush and struggle to hide your shyness, you would have started laughing or joked about it.

"I-I'm sorry, I was talking about the flowers, how they are beautiful and amazing, yeah," he spoke fast again, he had now relied on grabbing a random bouquet beside you, examining it, smelling it, hiding the fact he wanted the ground to bury him alive.

You ignored the way your heart was beating miles per second, the way your smile never wavered from being stretched softly across your face. This stranger had you feeling so... warm.

You leaned against the wood of your flower stand, nodding, your mouth opening to a silent 'ah.'

"Well, um... what's the occasion? That way I can help you organize the perfect flowers," you muttered, your cheeks feeling hot, so your hand waved some cool air that made no change.

Jacaerys lifted the bouquet, "This is perfect I think," his voice wavered, unsure, curiosity peeking through the thought. He stopped when he heard you laugh, a sweet sound that almost made him start giggling as well.

You wheezed, "I think not."

He paused, his head tilted to the side, "Why not?"

Between the giggles, you acknowledged the bouquet he had in his hands, "Unless you want to let your mother know you are so sorry and are in a deep grief, then I strongly suggest you put it down and let me help you find something different."

His eyes widened, and he rushed to put the bouquet that held red-spider, and red poppies down delicately back onto the shelf, if Luke had seen this, he would have never let it down, "I did not know... it meant that."

You chuckled, "It's not your fault, many don't know but you have me to walk you through the process," you cleared your throat to stop the giggles, "Okay, so what's the reason, is it her birthday? What do you want to convey?"

You saw him struggling again, his eyebrows creasing, his lips forming a small pout, in his thoughts, you allowed yourself to observe him; he was tall, beautiful, and his entire face was still blazing, held constellations of freckles that had you admiring how befitting it was.

"How much I love her," he spoke shyly, "I haven't seen her for a month due to work, so I want to tell her I love her."

Your heart tugged at his explanation, yearning for the love he felt for his mother, longing for your own mother that you knew was not there for you to wrap your arms around. Your eyes stung, blinking the aching away, you spoke as you moved towards your desk again, "I know the perfect flowers."

Your eyes that once held a brightness to it, faded to a sad glint. Jacaerys wondered what story conveyed behind your sad eyes, in the moment he decided the glimmer that your eyes had looked so much better than the dullness making a home in your gaze.

You prepared a bouquet of 14 tulips and peonies, wrapping them in a scented butcher paper with your store's logo. You sprayed a special fragrance to enrich the color and scent, finally tying a white ribbon around the bouquet.

Your smile returned, feeling wholesome again, looking at your work you admired the beauty before catching the stranger's eyes again who was observing you entranced in your element. Jacaerys never felt this feeling before, you were calming, patient, dedicated to your craft, loving and you never faltered a smile - you were perfect.

"There you go, all ready to be hugged by your mother," you sighed in completion.

Jacaerys never took his eyes off yours now, it was evident he wanted to know more about you, to discover your quirks, to know what made you sad and what didn't. His nose was suddenly enamored with a sweet scent - the flowers you prepared.

"Why these?" he softly questioned, it was as if the flowers spoke to him, he admired every detail your soft hands put into it.

You smiled, looking away you talked as if you were looking into a memory, "Tulips represent perfection, royalty, a mother's job is to look after us, struggling quietly to see our dreams come true, I think the tulips represent your mother's patience, as she knows you work hard, and she is rooting for every step you take."

Jacaerys heart felt as it stopped, as if a force pushed against his chest making him short of breath, your words hitting him deep within the walls he tends to keep up. The love he held for his mother was underestimated, they always disagreed over his future, his mother always wanting the best for him and Jacaerys, holding an ego of wanting to show he could do anything comes into play. You unintentionally read through the dynamic his mother and he had. He had never admired and fell for someone this quick before.

He stood, saying nothing as you spoke again, "Peonies mean beauty and elegance, it never hurts to remind your mother how beautiful she is, and how she holds herself with such class guiding you and if you have siblings forward."

He breathed in, his thoughts consuming how admirable you were, "Wow... well um," he began to stutter again, "Th-thank you."

You proudly smiled, "No, thank you for letting me help you."

Jacaerys matched your smile, both of your hearts beating fast, cheeks covered in a similar hue of red. Time did not exist in the moment, as you stared at him with wonder and him with endless admiration and love. Jacaerys knew it was too early for love, but he welcomed the feelings that came knocking on his door like summer taking over the coldness of winter. He welcomed the warmth, the flutters that occurred in his body, the urge to suddenly go outside and scream from happiness.

The bell of your door rang, you did not bother to check who it was as you continued to look at the male in front of you, a question on your tongue urging to spill out.

"Y/n! Let's go to lunch, Aeron cooked a fancy dish he wants you to try!" Benjicot dragged his feet towards you, his arms stretched out to gather you in his arms to lazily lean against your back.

You snapped out of your daze, as Jacaerys jumped from the loud voice of your best friend, clearing his throat he took out his card to pay for the flowers. Benjicot whistled lowly, "Damn, you must be filthy rich huh?"

Your eyes widened, and in a reflex you through your elbow back to hit your best friend in the stomach, a smirk crawling into your face as you heard your Benji released a loud yelp.

"I am so sorry for my best friend, he clearly was not taught manners," you hissed the last word towards your groaning best friend who whined about how harsh you were with him, "I'm sorry again..."

Jacaerys felt relieved knowing that you both were just friends, however, the question still remained, was your heart taken? He shook his head as he waved you off, "It's okay, no harm done."

You ran his card on the tab, and you felt Benjicot leaning against your back again, ignoring his whining you faced the smiling man, "Do you want your receipt?"

Benjicot observed the situation rather quickly, making it a conversation he would have with his boyfriend about how adorable you were with your first crush in a while. You probably did not even know you were growing an affection towards the rich man as Benji called him now. He smirked, a plan forming in his head, he just needed to consult his lover.

Jacaerys shook his head, the curls moved slightly across his eyes, and your fingers twitched to run through them, "It's okay. Thank you again for all the help."

You smiled softly, "It's no problem, please come again, and let me know if she likes them," you nodded your head towards the bouquet, "Give them to her with a lot of love, okay?"

He did not want to leave, wanting to stay to talk to you, to listen to your soft voice and hear you talk about flowers if that was all you wanted to talk about. But he saw the way your best friend was eyeing him, inspecting him with his narrowed eyes, almost like a lion eyeing his prey. Jacaerys suddenly felt naked. He definitely did not want to cross your best friend if he wanted to get to you.

"Definitely, thank you again."

Smiling brightly, you waved as he took small, longing steps towards the breeze of the peak of winter.

"Have a good day!" You shouted as he waved at you outside the shop.

Benjicot mocked you, "Have a good day!"

He enjoyed the small stutter you began your nagging with, as well as the deep flush your cheeks had. So, you did develop a crush. He chuckled evilly; this was certainly gossip he was going to have a blast telling Aeron before bed tonight.

You slapped his shoulder, "That was rude Ben!

He whined again, "Ow! I didn't mean for it to be a loud thought!"

Your eyes glared at him but held no ill intention, “You could have scared him away!”

Benji stopped his whining before he slowly looked at you, his eyes now holding suspicion, with a glint of mischief, “Oh yeah? You sure that was it? Suddenly so protective of him…”

You paused, caught red-handed, swallowing to get rid of your suddenly dry mouth, “Okay…” your hands started to wave around another habit of yours when you got nervous, “He was kind of cute…”

Benji laughed loudly, boasting so loud that had you shying away as you smacked his shoulder again, now it was your turn to whine, “Stop!”

“Oh, wait until I tell Aeron!” Tears pooled in his eyes as he continued to laugh loudly, “You have a crush on a client!”

You shushed him as you moved to lock the door of your flower shop, making a note to customers you were off to break and will be back.

“Shut up! I just thought he was cute!”

“Yeah, so cute that you gave him a big discount, right…”

You rubbed your eyebrow, your face covered in what felt like hot fire, you wanted the floor to swallow you. You pushed him out the door as both of you welcomed the chilly evening. Your whining echoing through the air as your best friend’s loud laughter bought warmth to the cold giving it a perfect combination.

༻❁༺

You never saw him again, your heart yearned to see the handsome stranger again. It felt as if it was forever since you saw him, you were tempted to search social media to find him. However, you were exaggerating, it was only a week since you saw him, a week and a half. You truly were in deep for a stranger who probably forgot all about you.

You mopped the floor of your ship with hips swaying softly to the beat of your favorite band playing. Too entranced with the errand you were doing, the stranger you longed to see again walked in again, he leaned lightly on one of the flower shelves, his face holding a soft grin.

Jacaerys couldn’t wait anymore, he had to see you again, to talk to you more. He cleared his throat, watching as you jumped, your eyes wide capturing the whole of his heart. Oh, you were so beautiful.

“Seven hells…” you muttered, holding tightly to the mop, “I am sorry! I didn’t see you.”

You rushed to look presentable, suddenly regretting you didn’t wear something better than your overalls. He continued to smile softly, ignoring the blush that spread across his face again. He walked towards the glass table again, this time with a better excuse to why he was there.

“It’s okay, I came in quite unexpectedly and quiet, I’m sorry for scaring you,” he stumbled with his words, mentally slapping his head for sounding so nervous around you.

“Ah…” your smile trembled; you were nervous to see him again. Suddenly you remembered, “Oh! Did your mother enjoy the flowers?”

He looked at you with a gaze that made you want to hide, and it was not out of fear, but rather you couldn't explain why his gaze made you feel so... full. As if he laughed at an inner thought, he released a small chuckle, looking away to look at your store, surprised you added twinkle lights making the shop look more welcoming.

"Yeah," he cleared his throat, "She loved it a lot, thank you."

Your body felt liberating, feeling a surge of pride. You clapped your hands together as you jumped lightly on your toes, "I am so glad she loved it."

He locked eyes with you again, this time, the stranger that you now needed to know his name, held glasses over his eyes. You figured you loved to see him this way, his glasses were made for him, and his curls were tussled as if he was constantly running his hand over and over through them.

He wore beige loose jeans with sneakers, his muscular upper body covered by a white t-shirt wrapped with an embroidery vest. He looked beautiful.

Your words suddenly blurred as you couldn't figure out what you wanted to say next, so stupidly you asked, "Um... why are you here?" You slapped your cheek lightly realizing that came out rude, "Oh my, I am so sorry... I did not mean it that way!"

Jacaerys laughed, this time he was more confident, he was going to make it a mission to know you more even if it meant drowning his and Cregan's shared apartment with flowers.

"It's okay, um so I truly loved the flowers and was wondering if you had flowers for..." he paused as he thought for an excuse, "... my younger brother... he won his baseball tournament."

You tilted your head with a million questions that occurred at that moment, the stranger was odd - but you never neglected service especially when the stranger smiled timidly towards you.

"Of course, roses will be your best friend! I hope your um... brother, enjoys the bright red color."

Jacaerys felt like a child again, crushing on his first-ever person, at this rate, he was going to make you think he was weird for buying flowers every week. But, if this meant he was going to see you more often, talk to you, hear you talk about flowers, and watch your face light up with so much devotion, he was open for the challenge.

Biting the inner side of his cheek, he nodded, "I know he will."

Yeah, Lucerys will definitely tease him and probably eye the bouquet of flowers with disgust, questions in his eyes as to why his older brother gave him flowers. Not to mention, Lucerys did not play baseball, and he definitely did not win any tournaments. He played guitar and was in a band.

You moved to the fridge where you kept fresh flowers ready to be prepped. As you took out twelve roses to wrap them in your regular butcher paper, Jacaerys leaned too close to watch you, not watching the weight he was pressing onto your desk.

One moment, he was watching you with a small smile, his heart overwhelmed with the beauty you beheld as you worked quietly. And one moment after the other occurred, the weight of his elbow shattered the desk.

You screamed and snapped out of your bubble. You scrambled to grab your flowers before you looked at the male who began cursing loudly, jumping side to side as he held his bleeding arm.

"Oh my god, oh my god," you panicked watching the blood that seeped out of his arm. You breathed in and held your breath to avoid the nausea that was crawling up your system, you and blood were never a good combination.

You moved to grab a clean rag and rushed towards the male who now held teary eyes. Pressing a warm towel to his wound you grabbed his hand to press it against your hand, "Hold still! Press the rag towards your wound!"

He whimpered, embarrassed out of his mind, he could not believe he made a fool out of himself in front of you to make matters worse.

You grabbed your keys and rushed to push him out the door. You winced as you saw the puddle of blood on the floor of your shop. You would make Benji clean it for you, your mind was occupied with the injured male.

Jacaerys protested he was okay, but with the adrenaline that was running through his body, he did not see the big chunk of glass in his arm. However, you did, and you felt wobbly.

"Oh god..." You wanted to puke now.

You drove fast to the clinic nearby, rushing to get the still protesting male out of the car to the lobby, his face was pale but if you looked enough, he was completely embarrassed. You breathed hard through your mouth, avoiding breathing through your nose.

If this did not make you run for the hills and ban him from ever stepping into your shop, he would not know what to do. Cregan and Lucerys would have a field trip teasing him for being this idiotic.

As he sat in the clinic bed, his arm now wrapped in gauze, the color of his cheeks now returning back to normal, he groaned slamming his hand against his face. He had ruined his chance with you.

You knocked on the door softly, walking in with soft steps towards him. Jacaerys had his eyes wide open, his mouth opening to a small 'o'.

"How do you feel?"

Jacaerys wanted to bury himself deep inside the earth's crust and never appear, "U-U-Um, idiotic? Embarrassed. I promise to pay for the damage I caused. I am so sorry! I promise to pay you!"

You snorted when you heard his fast scattered speech again, he was too cute. You placed a hand on his shoulder stopping his apologies, "How about you heal first and then we'll talk about how to hold your strength back Mr. Hulk."

Please kill me, Jacaerys thought as he watched you chuckle, shaking your head as you tapped his shoulder softly.

༻❁༺

Benjicot and Aeron laughed loudly together. Benji had his arm wrapped around his boyfriend's neck, Aeron giggled into his chest as you drank your glass of wine, cheeks red again.

"So, wait, after that, he ran away?" Aeron questioned as he giggled.

You groaned into your hands, before nodding, "Yes! I went to fetch him some snacks because you know blood loss or something, and I was told he paid for everything and left!"

Benji scoffed, "Well at least he paid but," he snorted, a laugh building in his throat, "Shattering a glass table? You truly had him mesmerized darling."

You threw a piece of your garlic bread at him, he laughed as he moved to the side to miss your hit, "Oh shut up! He was just embarrassed, besides glass tables are fragile! It was bound to break anytime soon."

"Right, right. Calm down, protective girlfriend, I was only teasing," Benji stuck his tongue out, blowing a raspberry. You imitated him, flipping him a finger instead as he winked, "You wish darling but unfortunately, I don't like sharing."

You moaned in disgust, "Ugh Benji! Keep the bedroom stuff private!"

He snickered, "What? I'm only saying!"

Aeron who watched in the embrace of his boyfriend smiled softly at the childish antics of you both. There was nothing better than being in the presence of both of your energies, this was home to him.

"What are you going to do when you see him again?" Aeron asked quietly watching carefully how you blushed and shrugged your shoulders.

"Attend to him like a regular customer? I don't know."

Benji made eye contact with Aeron, and a silent agreement came across their silent conversation.

༻❁༺

"Thank you so much for coming Fleur, I hope your wedding is the best dream. I will place an order on those arrangements you asked for and I will deliver them to the reception first thing in the morning!"

Your regular customer smiled as she hugged you, thanking you for everything you have done for her. You will never ask for anything better than to watch the happiness on your client's faces with every rose you gave them.

As you waved her goodbye, a tall male entered behind her, he was blonde, with a short stubble. You were confused as to who this was, you had never seen him around before. The male looked at you up and down, a small smirk forming.

Eyebrows scrunched together, a frown forming on your face, you calmy and politely asked, "Hi, how can I help you?"

"So, you are the girl that has my good old friend freaking out that he made such an idiot of himself?"

Your face features switched from a slight anger to confusion to realization, "Oh? Oh!"

Cregan smirked, "I came on behalf of him to bring you a brand-new table, before you protest, Jace had said to physically fight you if you denied his apology. So please, allow me to bring it in, I truly do not want to lock you in the bathroom or something."

You started to argue as he moved towards the door to grab the desk, "Hey! No!"

Cregan clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, "Ay. Let me bring it in, please. Allow my fool of my best friend to get a piece of calamity, he has been embarrassed for two weeks now, and trust me, he gets annoying with that ramble of his."

You bit your lip, "Okay... fine. I will allow you to replace my table, but please tell him there is no need. And I send all my friendly encouragement for him to get better."

Cregan thought you and Jacaerys would definitely make the cutest couple, he can spot all the similarities already. His foolish friend just needed to grow a good set of balls to ask you out. He simply waved you off, "Will do."

Cregan moved fast and quietly, he never said a word to you after that. He did however observe you, he was curious to why his best friend was so deep into you, and then he realized, the way you handled yourself, spoke, and thought… made you stand out to the many girls that threw themselves to Jacaerys.

With a final push and a wipe across the clean glass, Cregan stretched his arms upwards to release the balls of stress that formed in his shoulders.

“Alright, there you go. If you see Jace, please tell his clumsy little self to stay away from glass and anything breakable.”

You laughed, so that was his name. Jace.

“Will do, please let him know it’s okay. It was an accident, and I will be happy to see him again if he plans to pick up the flowers for his brother’s tournament present.”

Cregan’s face turned confused, tournament? Luke did not play sports. He paused to question what you were talking about until he realized the stunt his friend did. His face turned from confused too humorous. He laughed as he nodded, walking out the door not saying a thing to you leaving you more confused than ever. Cregan and this Jace were truly odd people.

Jacaerys was truly a lovesick idiot.

༻❁༺

It was now December; you were thankful of your business blooming upon everyone. You had business every day, especially with formal events coming up, and everyone wanting to decorate their homes with pretty flowers for the festivities. You couldn’t ask for anything better.

Jace, who you finally found out his real name, Jacaerys, was a regular. After overcoming his embarrassment and shyness of coming face to face with you after breaking your desk — came by every week for fresh flowers. You wondered if he truly had a big family, as every bouquet was for an aunt, uncle, brother, half brother, sister who was also a cousin… you were confused by his odd family tree but never questioned it.

On a Thursday afternoon, before it was time to close, he came by again, excitedly you welcomed him. Your heart never failing to beat fast as you saw him walk in.

“Hi Jacaerys, how are you?” you watched as he sighed, his glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose slightly. Your finger twitched to fix them.

“Alright, a lot better now that I am here though,” he muttered shyly, you grinned hiding your blush behind your hair.

“Right, so what can I do for you?” You pulled your regular butcher paper, and some scissors ready to prepare flowers for him.

Jacaerys was now running out of excuses, Cregan was beginning to get annoyed with the excessive amount of flowers that now consumed their home.

Rhaenyra was constantly confused to why her son always walked in with a dazed smile on his face and a new fresh of bouquet. She was beginning to question if he was stealing these bouquets but she knew better than to assume her son stole anything. Her mind automatically went to the question of whether his son was in love and she hoped that you were a kind girl with a big heart because Jacaerys needed someone to love him massively, and with Jacaerys came a big family that meant the world to him.

“Well, it’s my dad’s birthday tomorrow and you’re the best at making the best flowers. He needs some color in his office,” he said, his smile trembling as a glint of mischief flashed across his eyes.

As you moved to grab the perfect flowers you paused, “Wait…” You turned towards him, your head titled to the side with a very confused expression, “Your dad? You said two weeks ago that it was your dad’s birthday?”

Jacaerys entire face couldn’t get anymore redder than it already was, he began to stutter, “Yeah. It was my step dad’s birthday, now it’s my other dad’s birthday, biological!”

Your expression did not falter, “So you have three dads? Because you also mentioned before that you wanted flowers that spoke of the ocean, your father Laenor loved the sea.”

Please kill me, seven hells please. Jacaerys did not know what to say then, “Yeah well… you see… my mom remarried a lot,” he chuckled nervously.

You raised an eyebrow, “Huh… well the more dads the better no?” You poked jest at him, pursing your lips to hold in a grin.

He nodded fast, “Yeah, amazing!”

Jacaerys loved his family but it was quite chaotic with many family members running around.

“Hm…” You hummed as you moved to prepare the flowers, a regular routine that Jacaerys never got tired of. He enjoyed watching you be in your element.

For a while, in a comfortable silence, you held the bouquet out towards him, “Here we go!”

Jacaerys did not know how much more excuses he can come up with just to come to talk to you. He was going to make every second of it be worth it.

“They are beautiful, thank you for being amazing yet again.”

Your cheeks became warm again, you waved your hands around to push his compliments away, “Ah, no you’re exaggerating. I simply enjoy flowers and making people happy, it’s no problem at all.”

Jacaerys put money on the counter, smiling he shook his head, “You’re amazing, never forget that.”

As you were going to give him a receipt, the lights turned off, the music coming to a stop. Your face held an expression of shock, “What the -“

If you took time to observe the situation you would have seen the way Aeron and Benjicot ran with keys in their hands, having locked the door shut, with the lights off — all the while giggling.

You sighed exhaustively, rubbing your eyebrow you looked at Jacaerys ashamed, “I’m sorry… might be a power outage. I’ll give you a receipt when you come around again.”

He waved it off, his eyes scanning around, “It’s okay. Do you need any help in here?”

You moved to the power grid hoping to fix the problem, shaking your head you responded, “No it’s okay, I’ve got it! Thank you Jacaerys.”

Jacaerys hesitated but he sighed inevitably, he had to yet again leave you. He moved towards the door finding it locked. He tugged the handle with more force finding it completely shut. Jacaerys opened his mouth to question why it was closed till he held you yelp loudly. He rushed towards you.

“What? What? Are you okay?!”

You hissed as you stuck your index finger in your mouth to help relief your finger of the sting. Wincing you looked at Jacaerys whose eyes looked panicked, worried.

“Just got zapped by the electricity I’m guessing.”

Jacaerys pulled you away from the power box, “I think you shouldn’t touch it anymore, and just wait till a professional comes to check it.”

You sighed, slightly pouting, “I can’t stay without power…”

He looked down your lips, tempted to place a kiss on them. He breathed deep through his nose to avoid thinking of you that way. He had to take it slow.

“Jacaerys?”

Jacaerys hummed, his hand covering your injured fingers, playing with your soft hands unintentionally. You did not find it weird but rather inviting, you enjoyed heavily his touch on yours and you wanted the feeling to be permanently, but you did not want to scare him away. You shyly muttered under your breath.

“Why are you still here?”

He looked at you calmly, he scratched his eyebrow, pushing his glasses upwards, “The door is locked.”

“It can’t be I don’t have the keys… Benjicot took them.”

Jacaerys shrugged, "Well... the door is locked and there's no way out I'm guessing?"

You groaned loudly; this day could have never been worse than it was already. You were very scared to be this close to Jacaerys, you did not want to explore the feelings you felt for him. The feeling was euphoric and wholesome, and it made you listen to love songs and automatically think of his caramel auburn eyes that reminded you of fall. What made this whole situation more terrifying was the possibility of your feelings not being reciprocated.

Boyfriends, love in general never ended well with you. It was rather disastrous, being reminded of your ex who Benjicot broke his nose so bad he had to get surgery to fix the broken bones. You winced rethinking your experience with your ex-lover.

However, that made you appreciate the friendship you had with Benji, he protected you where you couldn't, he was your shoulder, your shield, and most definitely your soulmate in the form of a best friend. Having his friendship never had you lonely, and with him came Aeron, who you would never trade for anything in the world.

Aeron was your calm, your best friend who took you on car rides and cried with you to songs on the radio or songs that you connected with the aux. Aeron was the one who took you in his arms and held you until your system was relieved of all the pain and stress it had going on. While Benji was the vengeful one, Aeron was the one that said, "karma always comes back to kick ass."

You took Jacaerys into your small office, which was decorated with small plants, your office was warm, the small rays of light from what winter greedily would give as compensation for the cold.

"I'm sorry it's messy, I usually don't have time to clean in here," you moved some of the files out of the couch you had inside your office.

Jacaerys took the time to observe the space, it matched you. It was soft, loving, and warm, as were you. He felt a pride surge him, he got to know another piece of you without trying. You loved working and you were independent. You liked to have your own space and to be alone at times.

"It's alright, I don't mind," he said as he went around to look at the photos you had around the room.

He stopped to look at the photos of you and your parents, to the photo when you first opened your shop. He looked at your smile, the way it lit your entire face making it more ethereal, the way your eyes crinkled full of youth and innocence. The relationship you had with your best friend was special and if he was to compare, he would automatically think of his relationship with Cregan.

Another trait of yours, he captured. You were devoted. You loved hard and with your entire being.

He huffed a small laugh as a loving grin splattered on his face, his heart couldn't have picked a better person to be protected with.

He heard you talk in hushed whispers through the phone, whoever it was, he figured had you stressed as you tugged your hair back in a chunk hold. He felt the urge to run his hands through your hair, to soothe your worries. He made himself comfortable on the couch as he watched you pace back and forth.

"Ben, you come in here right now!" You whispered harshly hearing the small giggle he released, Aeron in the back was giggling heavily.

"Confess, ask him on a date, and stop the constant back-and-forth flirting you guys have every time he comes in," Benji said as Aeron yelled over him.

"There's no way a guy would buy his family flowers EVERY week, either the guy is planting a whole damn garden for Landing's townsfolk or he's actually insane."

You peeked at the said man, your heart giving a short stop when you realized he was already staring at you, his face gave no emotion but his eyes, he was observing you, taking every detail of you in.

You cleared your throat, "C-can you give me a minute?"

Jacaerys noticed your stance became hesitant compared to the confidence you always had. He stood slowly, "Yeah, of course."

As soon as he closed the door behind him, you watched as he leaned by the window of your office, his eyes scanning around again. You shook your head stopping yourself from gawking at him as you turned towards the call again.

"You have 10 minutes to get over here and give me my power back as well opening the door!"

Benji snorted, "And you have 10 minutes to get your shit together and ask him out, he seems like a nice guy, weird but he matches you."

You began to protest as you heard Aeron in the background again, the voice bringing you calamity as usual, "He likes you. No other guy would spend $40-$60 every week for flowers, it's like Ben said, either he's insane or he's planting a garden for the town to see."

You sighed loudly, your eyes following the male outside your office, the sound of your heart thumping loudly through your eardrums. Jacaerys was odd, but he was dedicated, he was funny, kind, and clumsy but something inside you wanted to know every layer that made him who he is now. You wanted to run your hands into his curls, to have him wrap his muscular arms around you, to kiss those pink plump lips of his.

He spoke very little of his chaotic family, and you wanted to know more. He was loyal and dedicated, he was soft-spoken, and he had a heart so big that only spoke wonders of his family. For once, you wanted to know if the harmony of your heart could match his, if for once the quietness of your home could be filled with his laughter and random chattering.

"I'm scared," you whispered to your best friends who chuckled simultaneously.

"You are ready, your heart is ready, allow it to be loved. Take it slow, at your pace, he seems the guy that would do anything to see you happy. Before you ask, I approve, I will just let him know that if he fucks up, I will beat the shit out of him," Benji warned through the phone.

You could not see, but if you did, you would have seen the way Aeron slapped his boyfriend's head to Benji whining before leaning down slightly to kiss his boyfriend's lips.

"Okay," you chewed on your bottom lip nervously.

Aeron encouraged you, "Anyone would be happy to have you in their life, if I wasn't gay and dating this big loser next to me, I would have fought to have you."

You laughed as you heard Benji exclaim a loud, "Hey!"

Aeron continued, "We will be there soon, we're actually in the cafe next door, so we will be there. But y/n?"

You were distracted as you locked eyes with Jacaerys who never took his gaze from you. Blinking with flush cheeks you answered with a waver in your voice, almost in a soft squeak, "Yeah?"

"Try. Allow yourself to be happy and to share your adventures with another that isn't us okay?"

You did not give him another answer as you hung up the phone, you took a deep breath and walked confidently toward the taller male. Opening the door, you leaned against it as you spoke lightly your eyes never leaving his, "Benji, my best friend will come in a second."

Jacaerys nodded softly, not speaking a word as he continued to see you.

"What do you do with all those flowers you get every week?" you boldly asked him; you licked your bottom lip as you slowly bit into it. Jacaerys went from your eyes to your lips, a carnage urge rising.

Jacaerys had two options, either he lies, or confess his true intentions. Cregan over a round of drinks on a Saturday night teased him as to why he was suddenly reading books about flowers and their significance. He avoided your deep stare for a second before he confidently turned towards you.

"I keep them, as for some, I actually do give them to my family members. By the way, they love the special touches you add to every single bouquet."

"So, every bouquet is for a different family member?"

He hesitated, "Uh..." the tips of his ears turned red, his fingers beginning to twitch, "Yeah?" He answered unsure how to answer the question.

You nodded, not believing him. You recalled Aeron's words about Jacaerys and how no man would ever put effort into buying flowers for every member of their family.

"As we wait, I can prepare you the flower bouquet for your um..." You paused, testing the waters, "I forgot, for who was it again? What was the occasion?"

Jacaerys is oblivious to the test you are giving him, "My sister! She loves flowers, so anything I know she would love them."

Your nose crinkled as you held your laugh, gotcha.

"You're a good man Jacaerys."

He beamed, his cheeks blooming to the regular red color you have fallen for.

Aeron and Benjicot had arrived at the shop, they were each sporting little mischievous smiles. You only shook your head at them, they walked into your office shouting a small hello to Jacaerys who took a step back at the glare Benjicot was giving him as he looked at him through the window of your office.

You wrapped two bouquets this time, Jacaerys was confused.

"Y/n?"

"Yes, Jace?"

"Why are there two flower bouquets?"

You were in the middle of writing a note before placing it inside of the bigger bouquet. Your stomach was turning itself inside out as you took a small breath in before locking eyes with the boy that now lived in your dreams, making you wake up every morning in hopes of seeing him stumble through your door.

"This one is for your sister," You chuckled thinking how you caught him in the middle of his excuses, "... And this one is for you. A gift of a sort, for coming in and purchasing from me."

"Y/n, I can't accept this, let me pay you for it," he was talking so fast you laughed, stopping his hand that struggled to get his wallet to pull out his card.

"You can and you will," you affirmed as you pushed the bouquets into his hands, his eyes looked as if it was ready to fall off his sockets.

"I uh-I uh, uh, uh," he stuttered to the point he almost fell straight into the flower shelf behind him.

Laughing you held him by the elbow, "It's okay. Take it as a token from me please?"

Aeron and Benjicot were having the time of their lives, laughing loudly behind the closed door of your office. This was better than watching a sit-com at home.

"Okay, okay," he muttered, grabbing the flowers, he walked hesitantly towards the door.

You walked him out, and as both of you welcomed the chill cloudy day, both of your noses began to blossom with frost, and your insides never felt warmer.

"Take care, Jace."

His name never sounded heavenly than your mouth, he wanted to surround himself with your warmth. He wanted to gather you in his arms and press a deep kiss that left you breathless. Slowly, time will have him holding you in his arms as he proudly pronounced everywhere how lucky he was.

He turned towards you, shyly, with a small voice asking, "Can... Can I hug you?"

You did not hesitate to slightly move your head up and down, and it was as if the world stopped rotating. If this was how heaven felt like, you would live in peace. He was calm, and you were erratic, it was like the moon hugged the sun and made an explosion to loud and beautiful. Two different souls combine together.

You hugged him tightly, smelling the fresh scent of lavender, and fresh laundry, with a touch of cologne that almost made you bury your face into his chest. As for Jacaerys, he held you closely, burying his face into the crook of your neck, smelling the floral scent with a touch of vanilla. Almost, like a small whisp, a soft sound of relief came out of his lips. He was the happiest man in the world.

You both let go with an intention that you never wanted to let go.

Jacaerys smiled with a new touch, it brought you to smile back at him, both of your hearts connected in a way that neither of you was scared to explore what beautiful harmonies it would create.

Unwillingly, a string that wrapped both of your fingers together, separated. You knew that he would return, and till then, you hoped with an open heart ready to love, you'd be expecting him.

༻❁༺

As he gave Baela her bouquet, his smile never left his face. Baela looked confused as to why Jacaerys would give her flowers.

"Uh, Jace? What's the occasion? Am I dying?"

Rhaena laughed, "Relax sister, Jace has been giving everyone flowers as of late."

Baela raised an eyebrow, a confused look still on her face, "Um? Why?"

Jacaerys held onto his bouquet until he spotted the cream envelope stuck between the flowers. Rhaenyra who watched her children debate why Jacaerys was suddenly a flower boy, smiled internally, her boy was too adorable.

He ran up to his mother, gave her a kiss on her cheek, rushed to say goodbye to everyone, and jumped into his car to drive back home.

Luke sneezed, "I don't know about you all, but this corny version of my brother and him constantly smelling like flowers is making me feel so... grossed out."

Rhaenyra tsked, "Wait until you find a partner that will make you become a fool, then we can talk about being gross darling."

Baela shrugged, "I truly don't care however I will say, whoever got his heart in twists and turns, makes the most beautiful arrangements and I want more. He better not fuck this up."

Rhaenyra hissed as small Viserys yelped out a small 'duck'.

"Baela! Language!"

༻❁༺

Cregan was sitting by the couch, a can of beer in his hand as he calmy watched the sports channel. Jacaerys quickly opened the door, slamming it shut as he ran down the hallway into his room, the bouquet of bright, pretty flowers in his arms left a flowery scent in the room.

Cregan eyed his best friend in confusion, before he sneezed, "Oh for god's sake Jace!"

All he got in return was a loud, "Sorry man!"

Cregan only muttered to himself, finding himself eyeing all of the floral arrangements around the sitting area. He shook his head, snorting.

༻❁༺

Jacaerys sat by his bed, the flowers now sat in a vase by his bed. In his hands sat the cream envelope that he was too afraid to open.

"C'mon Jace, open it."

With trembling fingers he opened the envelope, your nice cursive writing welcomed him, and immediately he began to smile widely. As his eyes scanned the words you wrote, his eyes began to look at the arrangement you had given him. His heart never felt this way, if he could give you the world, he would gladly do it, some way. You were the best flower of all the garden, and by the gods, he loved you.

The note that you made held a phone number, and with a small note that explained your heart best, had Jacaerys throw himself onto the bed, all the while screaming a loud 'YES!"

Flowers are meant to describe what we feel, and every flower has a meaning and a reason why we gift them. And for you, I feel so many things that it is impossible to choose what flower fits you. If you get a chance, find the meaning of the flowers and then come find me.

PS: Next time, remember what excuse you came up with to get flowers, you're a terrible liar. with so much adoration, Y/n.

As Jacaerys rolled around in his bed with a big smile on his face and small laughs escaping his mouth, the flower arrangement you made blossomed, finding a home in a chilled season. Lilies, Lilacs, with bright Camellias sat on his desk with a confession of love from you who waited patiently for him to crack your code.

[lookatmycat9445]

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ "in the dead of night"･ﾟ✧*: ･ﾟ✧*

pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!Reader

words: 7000

summary: when Jace is attending a late council meeting, two hired assassins take their chance to sneak into your chambers and hold you captive. Taken to the dragon caves below and meant to be slain by your own betrothed’s dragon, you have to trust the bond between Vermax and you is strong enough to escape your captor’s murderous plans.

warnings: soft!reader, fluffy start but HEAVY angst (reader being held captive by two assassins similar to Blood and Cheese), physical violence (slapping, hair pulling), verbal abuse, threats of rape and violence, Vermax being Vermax and also protective of reader, hurt/comfort, shock and crying, Jacaerys being a caring betrothed, Rhaenyra being the best mother in law, aftermath of trauma, healing, hopeful ending

a/n: please mind the warnings for this story, it’s my angstiest so far! Big thanks to @princessvelaryon and @princesschimchim1325 for being awesome and inspiring me to write this!

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

You smiled to yourself as you held two small wooden figures in your hands, a princess and a prince, their hands linked together and small attires made of cotton and wool. When you were younger, you remembered playing with them for hours, creating little scenarios of the prince who might sweep you off your feet someday.

Now, many years later, you had found the love of your life in Prince Jacaerys.

Ever since your own parents had died too young, Jace’s family had welcomed you as if you were one of them by blood, making you a home at Dragonstone and accepting you with open arms as theirs. Perhaps, a huge part of it was because Rhaenyra’s oldest son had been in love with you ever since he had first laid eyes on you, but there was more to it. His mother adored you and you got alone with his siblings and cousins and brought a joy into their house that was much needed in those dark times of war.

This afternoon, you were sitting on the soft fur carpet in one of the big living rooms of the castle, Rhaenyra’s twins peacefully playing with their wooden toys all around you. Earlier, Baela and Rhaena had joined you for a chat and the newest gossip, but you didn’t mind being alone with the kids as well, your own inner child always coming down around their soft souls.

You let out a playful gasp as little Viserys assembled a row of knights on their horses along the imaginary street you had built together. “Are your noble knights going to a tournament, Vis?”

The boy nodded timidly at you, letting one of the horses gallop forward and making you laugh.

Your betrothed Jacaerys leaned against the doorframe and smiled softly as he watched you. Little Aegon had snuggled close to you and you helped Viserys move the toy carriage around the carpet.

You looked up as he pushed himself off the frame, walking towards you with pure adoration in his eyes. “Oh hello. I didn’t hear you enter.” You said, letting your hand be lifted by him so he could press a soft kiss against your knuckles.

Moving to stand and placing Aegon on the ground, he laid a hand on your shoulder, shaking his head. “I didn’t want to interrupt your play. What adventures is my princess going on today? Have my brothers been behaving?”

“They are the sweetest.” You told him in all honesty, your heart melting at the two little blond boys in front of you. Whenever you spent time with Jace’s smaller siblings, you could not help but notice how your heart expanded and spoke to a deep part in you that wished for children of your own someday. “We were playing a carriage ride to a tournament, I believe, but then a dragon escaped and now we have to look for him.”

Jace squatted down for a moment and handed Aegon a rattle shaped like the bell of a sept, which he immediately took with a toothless grin and tried out. You watched your betrothed with a soft heart and thought what a wonderful father he’d make…

“I dream of the day this will be our life someday.” He confessed to you, the corner of his plump lips lifting sadly. “When there is peace in the realm and we have time to take care of our future children together.”

“I wish for nothing else.” You replied softly, your heart blooming with love for him.

For a moment, Jacaerys looked as if he wanted to sit down and join you and his little brothers, but as you knew your hard-working betrothed all too well, he sighed and stood up again, careful not to step on the big skirts draped around you like a blooming flower.

“There will be a late council meeting this evening.” Jacaerys announced to you, his displeased expression betraying him. “Everyone of the council and the dragon keepers will sit together to discuss. I wouldn’t ask you to join us, it will be very boring and entirely unnecessary.”

You chuckled, knowing all too well how different Jace would do many things if his say in the matters of his mother would be of more weight. But at the same time, you were glad, Rhaenyra kept him sheltered and protected with you for now, at Dragonstone where it was the safest place for the future king and his queen.

“Will you come to bed later?” You asked shyly, although it was not uncommon for the prince and you to share a bed before your marriage had even been consummated.

A small and narrow passage connected your room to Jacaerys’ and you had often made use of it, whether you wanted someone to talk to before heading to bed or were in need of his warm embrace before you eventually drifted off into an innocent sleep together. When he was gone or bound to duties, you usually made yourself comfortable in his bed, but perhaps you’d return to your own tonight if the meeting was going to take a while before he’d be released.

Jacaerys smiled softly at you and nodded before he raised your hand towards his lips. “I will. Don’t stay up too late, I’ll be with you as soon as I can, I promise.”

You hummed pleased and let him kiss your knuckles. “I hope it won’t be too long. And don’t take their words to heart too much, Jace. You’re the prince and they’re lucky to have you.”

“It is me who is lucky to have you, my beloved.” He said and watched in delight as you blushed at his appreciation. “My safe haven, my light.”

Jacaerys leaned down, softly cupping your cheek before he gently kissed your lips, your back arching a little to reach him better. Your lips brushed tenderly against one another and you sighed in bliss at his open affections for you.

You smiled at him when you separated, squeezing his hand in yours. “I love you. I’ll see you later.”

“I love you.I’ll do my best to hurry.” He promised, hugging his little toddler brothers as well and softly stroking their hair before he departed. You sighed to yourself, eager to have the hours pass and let the two of you be reunited again as little Aegon presented you a wood dragon, silently asking you to rejoin their play..

“Alright, where were we, my princes?”

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Being alone in your private chambers had become a rarity since you had been promised to Jacaerys.

You listened to the quietness of the room, the fire cackling in the pit as you sat on your bed and combed out your hair. You had taken a bath after bringing the princes to their nurseries and changed into something comfortable for the night.

The small evidence of Jace’s frequent visits to your room were visible all over the place. A cloak of his was thrown over one of your chairs by the fire and one of his books laid open by your desk. Even his smell still faintly clung to your pillows, a little gift from the last time he had fallen asleep here, not bothering to retreat back to his own chamber under your soft and lingering touches to his hair.

You could not even remember the last time the connecting door between your rooms had been closed.

You let out a small sigh as you sunk into bed, watching the dark outside of your window for a while. The council meeting must’ve been going on for a while now and you tried to read a few pages to keep you awake, not wanting to miss the moment Jace would come to you.

The time went by and your eyelids kept dropping.

But after a while, the door to your chamber opened and a wide smile split your face as you sat up in your bed, ready to welcome Jace back. Your hair fell over your shoulders, the blanket slipping down your body a little, but just a second later, everything in you froze to a stop.

Two men entered your room, their clothes dirty and faces dark as they took you in. These weren’t your guards and as one of them unsheathed a blade from his belt, you opened your mouth to scream.

They were on you in a heartbeat.

One of them drew the blankets off the bed while the other grabbed your hair, dragging you from the mattress and onto the floor, every sound in your throat seizing up and choked off by their sudden display of violence.

You were not a fighter, never had been. You stood no chance as they manhandled you in their middle, the taller one quickly looking over his shoulder as you struggled to no use against their tight grip.

“Look at that.” You heard close to your ear, the deep raspy voice sending shivers down your spine. “The bastard prince’s little bird, right between us. What would your man say now if he could see you like this, huh?”

You whimpered when your head was tugged back, the other gripping your wrists and making quick work of a tight rope around them, scratching over your soft skin and successfully binding you.

“Who are you?” You demanded to know, your voice barely louder than a whisper. You were shaking from head to toe, your body and mind gone into overdrive when they had first laid hands on you.

They shared a grin with each other. “Does it matter? All you have to know is we’re not your fucking maids. And that you will die tonight, princess. Now be a good girl and shut the fuck up.”

You tried to press your heels into the floor, to keep them from stirring you towards the door, but after a moment the tall one simply picked you up and carried you towards the door. Your nails scratched over the man’s back, but it was like he didn’t even feel it, his grip around your legs too tight for you to struggle and free yourself.

“Behave.”

You were set on your feet again, crowded by them against the door. You swallowed hard against the lump in your throat, your eyes flickering between the two of them. “Whoever paid you, their reward is not nearly enough for the misery my family will bring down on you when they find you. I am a princess of Dragonstone and you have no right to-“

They pushed you out of the door, not bothering to listen.

A horrified gasp escaped your lips as you stepped outside your chamber and nearly stumbled over the dead bodies of your two guards, bleeding out and cold on the floor. The sound echoed through the hall and before you knew what was happening, your head was pulled back by your hair and a hard hand slapped you across the face.

Pain exploded in your mind, blinding you for a moment before the sting ebbed away and was replaced with a dull throb in your cheek.

You held the palm of your trembling hand to your throbbing cheek, breathing hard as you recovered from the blow. “You will die for this.” You said oddly calm and collected. It had to be the shock, you could not think clearly, but you knew one thing for sure: “The prince will cut your hands off for laying hand on me.”

The tall one grinned as if it was an empty threat. “We will be long gone once your prince finds you, stupid cunt. And in what state that will be, I still have to decide.” His disgusting hungry gaze crept over your body, barely hidden underneath your thin sleeping gown. You wanted to throw up.

“You will lead us to the place where the dragons are.” The shorter one said. “We know the keepers are all at the meeting and you know ways where no guards keep patrol. And if you dare to scream or run to wake anyone, I’ll cut out your tongue and heart and throw it in front of the bastard prince’s feet.”

You swallowed down bitter tears, your head screaming at you to do something, anything. But your hands were painfully tied and you did not find your voice as you slowly began to walk with them through the castle.

In the past, you have had nightmares like this, terrible visions of you being powerless as hands held you down in the dark, doing horrible things to you. You sometimes had woken up screaming, but Jacaerys had been there for you every time, holding you until the worst of it was over and you slowly were able to calm down in his safe and warm embrace. Now, there was no one, all people living and working at Dragonstone either asleep or summoned by Rhaenyra and Jacaerys for the council meeting. By the time someone had discovered the corpses of your guards in front of your chambers, you’d likely be dead or taken to who knew where.

You walked through your home, shivering against the cool air with only the thin nightdress you wore on you, the dangerous presence of your captors behind your back. You knew Jacaerys would blame himself for leaving you alone and suddenly, a sorrow so consuming filled your chest, you choked on a quiet whimper. You had not even said goodbye…

“Shut the fuck up.” They hissed at you and one of them slung his arm around your waist, your fingers digging into his flesh in protest as cool metal suddenly rested against your ribcage. A dagger. “Be fucking quiet and keep walking.”

Soon, the air began to smell of salt and sea and you heard the distant crashing of the waves against the island. The entrance to the dragon caves came into sight and you turned around to face them.

“Now tell us, girl, where is your precious dragon?”

Your heart sank into the pit of your stomach, but before you could open your mouth for a reply, the other one of them shook his head. “No. Don’t be stupid. The beast will kill us right away if it sees their rider in our clutches. But…the bastard’s dragon. It’s a foul ill-tempered beast, isn’t it? Where is it?”

Vermax.

A protective wave washed through you and for a moment, you regained the little confidence you had before the man had laid his hand on you. “What do you want with the dragon? You are in no state to have a chance at killing him.”

They shared a look, both grinning viciously. One of them stepped up to you and touched your chin with his dirty hand, right where a fresh bruise from his violence bloomed. You tried to flinch away, but he held you close.

“We don’t mean to kill it, flower.” He told you, bloodthirst flickering over his features and making you sick. His knuckles brushed over the cut on your lip and you wanted to gag from disgust. “We’re going to watch as it kills you.”

Your mind was swimming as you led them through the darkness, watching their big shadows looming over your small own. The taller one still held his dagger against your waist and you knew he’d make use of it if he noticed you playing any games. There were wild beasts slumbering in the depths of these caves, but would they be faster at attacking your captors than the knife against your skin?

The hope in your chest thinned the further away you walked with them from where you knew your own dragon slept, but one last shimmer of it remained in you. You knew Vermax and he knew you just as Jacaerys did. You had to hold on to that.

“It’s here.” You announced quietly, your whisper echoing across the cave near the ocean. It was quiet here and you had to squint your eyes to make out the big nest at the end of the cave where a green-scaled dragon slept fitfully.

“Call it.” The smaller one muttered, his eyes fixed on the beast. You winced as the tip of the dagger pressed into your skin, a warning. “We will stand behind you and when it has come out, you will command it to kill you, you hear me? No tricks or I’ll gladly be the one to end your suffering, right after my friend here has had his fun with you, princess.”

You took a deep breath as they retreated into a safe distance.

„Naejot Māzīs, Vermax.“ You commanded shakingly and the sound of your familiar voice, the big pile of green and red in the corner of the cage moved, uncurling himself from his light slumber.

Jacaerys’ dragon blinked at you sleepily, a shudder going through his beautiful scales as he tilted his head to the side questioningly. When he spotted the two men in your company, he tensed, stepping forward and showing himself in his full height.

“Lykirī…“ You lifted your hands, trying to catch Vermax’ eyes again so he’d look at you instead of them.

With a low growl in his throat, he settled, stepping closer to you until his snout almost touched your outstretched hand.

“Say it, girl!” You heard the commanding voice behind you, in a safe distance of the beast that slowly blinked at you, considering. “We’re not going to wait much longer!”

You took a deep breath and looked Vermax in the snake-like eyes.

He met you with a calm stare, tilting his head to the side again, a deep rumble in his chest.

You had to trust in him now. You had to trust in the love Jacaerys and you were sharing and the bond between you and the dragons.

Out of the sudden, a heavy thrown stone hit you in the back and you gasped in pain, stumbling forward and almost slipping in a dirty puddle.

“DO IT!”

Trust in Vermax, just as you trust in your Jace.

“Dracarys.” You whispered finally and closed your eyes.

Vermax surged forward with a furious roar, one sharp claw in the ground, his wing shielding you from the scenery. Nearly pushing you out of the way, he advanced on the men who had threatened you with a snarl and warmth filled the large cave, fire burning low in his green-scaled stomach.

A horrible realization flickered over their faces as the green beast drew closer, their backs hitting the wall behind them as they looked at you one last time. “You fucking cunt-“

Vermax wiped out their miserable existence with one single breath of fire. Heat tore through the cave and you stumbled backwards as the dragon fire burned them and the scent of roasted human flesh reached your nose.

You squeezed your eyes shut and buried your face in your hands as you listened to their screams. Their agony bounced off the stone walls and heat crept down your spine, but Vermax kept you close, the leathery feel of his wing a small comfort against your skin.

Suddenly, silence rang in your ears.

You dared to peek up over the protective curl of Vermax’ wings.

Where your captors had stood, only ashes and bones remained.

Vermax let out a self-satisfied growl, clearly pleased with what he had unleashed on the terrors. He bent down, blinking at you with his sharp eyes as if to make sure you were alright. Tears, both from the shock and gratitude, filled your eyes and you leaned your forehead against his snout, trying to take deep breaths to steady yourself.

You shrunk back as you heard footsteps in the caves, hurried steps running over gravel and through the water puddles, a flame throwing a long shadow over the walls. You felt Vermax tense, his wing drawing itself tighter around you. Any other threat advancing, he’d burn to the ground.

In the next moment, Jacaerys stormed into the chamber, his sword drawn as his other hand held a lit torch. His chest was heaving, sweat gathering at his hairline as he quickly took in the state of the room. He looked like he had run the length of the castle and you knew it likely had been the case.

Vermax snarled without threat, greeting his rider and lifting his wing to present you to your love.

Your eyes met and you let out a shuddering breath.

The sight of you was a thousand daggers to his heart.

Your face was smeared with soot and the blood from your split lip coated your chin, your hair unruly and disheveled from the way they had grabbed and dragged you along. Your silk dress was dirty and you shivered against the cold of the cave as you slung your bruised arms around yourself.

Behind you, Vermax hovered like a protective shadow and waited, willing to serve with Jacaerys now here with you.

As he took a step towards you, his boot made contact with the skulls of the assassins. Two of them, he realized and the rage surging through his veins was all-consuming. He looked down at their bones and wished to go back in time to kill them himself, over and over again until not even these mortal remains stayed behind.

But his own bloodlust vanished as he raced towards you, your own legs unsteady and finally giving out under you just as he reached you.

He fell to the ground with you in his arms, holding you tightly as you clawed your hand in his clothes, his heart breaking for you right underneath your tight grip. It was like any last strength in you had left, leaving you a broken and sobbing mess in his embrace.

“You’re safe, you’re safe…” Jace murmured into your ear, softly swaying you back and forth as you wept, the adrenaline and shock from the situation finally crashing down on you with full force. “Nothing is going to happen to you, I’m here…”

The Queen and the dragon keepers found the prince and his princess just like this.

Jacaerys was kneeling on the ground, the princess dissolved in tears in his arms and the ill-tempered beast that had saved his love curled around them, chortling comfortingly as the prince stroked her hair and whispered sweet nothings in her ear.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

You had been escorted back to the castle, but you couldn’t say you remembered much from the journey. Your mind had gone into an odd state of survival, the girl from before the attack having retreated into a far corner of your mind.

The guards, now dead because of you, had been carried away in front of your door and you had stopped in the middle of the hallway, not able to go another step as you stared at the spot where maids were now scrubbing the blood from the floor.

“Come on, my dear.” Rhaenyra had gently told you and you tore your eyes away from the scene as your Queen and Jacaerys led you into his chambers instead. The warmth and unique scent of Jace’s quarters – the smell of old parchment and books, mingled with the wax of the candles and the smell of his sheets – enveloped you and you drew the cloak Jace had draped over your shivering form tightly around you.

Now, a little later, you were seated at Jace’s work table and blankly stared at your scraped hands in your lap.

Jacaerys had instantly expressed his dislike for an interrogation at this hour of the night, but you had shaken your head, willing to recount the situation to Rhaenyra as if words could wash away the poison they had brought onto you. Your skin felt coated with it and you feared the stain might never go away again.

Yet, you had told her and Jace what happened, slowly and quietly, and when you were done, Rhaenyra was holding your hand and Jacaerys looked as if he wanted to break something.

“My brave girl.” Rhaenyra murmured and softly cupped your cheek as she looked at the bruises on your face and neck. “You’ve fought enough for tonight, darling. I’ll call the maids and healers and-“

“No.” You cut her off, shivering at the prospect of unfamiliar hands on you, seeing the evidence of what had happened on your naked skin. You swallowed hard, your eyes filling with unshed tears again. “No one else. It’s- it’s alright, I can do it myself, I really can-“

Rhaenyra smiled sadly at you. “You are hurt, my dear.”

“I’m not broken.” You insisted, although you felt like it. You were shattered pieces on the ground.

“And no one says so, dear.”

Jacaerys, sensing you were on the verge of breaking down, knelt down next to your chair and caught your gaze with his. “I can help, if you want.” He offered quietly.

You looked back at him, conflicted. If Jace stayed, there’d come the point where he’d see the damage you had taken and you did not know what troubled you more; him seeing you like this or seeing him as his heart shattered for you.

“Jace.” Rhaenyra looked at him. “Perhaps a woman’s presence at this time is better suited for her. I’ll fetch you later, I promise, but she needs a moment for herself now, alright?”

He was tense, your beloved prince, but after a moment he nodded with a set jaw before he stood and looked at you one more time. “I’ll wait outside.”

You didn’t want to meet his sad expression, so you kept your gaze down as mother and son went to the door, talking in quick and hushed voices before Jace stepped outside and Rhaenyra returned to you.

She leaned down and brushed a little bit of soot from your cheeks, careful not to touch your split lip. “Vermax surely knows how to rain down fire on our enemies, hm?”

A weak smile tugged at the corner of your lips. “He saved me. He knew exactly what was going on the moment I entered and he was intelligent enough to play along until the right moment had come.”

Rhaenyra hummed, offering you a hand to stand up. “And still, they only call my son’s dragon ill-tempered. How does a bath sound? I’m sure you’d like to step into more comfortable clothes, wouldn’t you?”

You nodded, longing for a simple cotton shirt, preferably one of Jace’s that smelled like home and warmth and safety.

Your future mother-in-law went to the big bath next to Jace’s bedroom with you, a steaming bath already having been drawn for you.

When you saw her drawing a stool close to the tub, your eyes widened and you were quick to interject: “I-I can do it myself, Your Grace, there is no need for you to-“

“Please let me help you just as I would help any other child of mine.” She interrupted you kindly and soon after, you gratefully sunk into the bath, your sore muscles relaxing in its warmth.

Rhaenyra helped you tilt your head back and you closed your eyes as warm water flowed over your hair and down your neck, tears of your own silently running down your damp cheeks. Your throat bobbed painfully as you let her work, the Queen’s gentle hands a mother’s comfort as they helped to get rid of the dirt from the caves and a root clinging to your skin.

“I have sent Jace to fetch an ointment for your bruises and cuts.” She told you quietly and you nodded silently, cupping some of your water to rinse off your face, careful not to touch your throbbing lip. “I want you to tell me if I should send him away for the night. You can be honest with me, dear.”

You sniffled, gladly accepting the towel she lent you after helping you out of the bathtub. After a moment, you rasped: “It is not him I am scared of. It’s just…I know it pains him to see me hurt.”

“He hurts because he hasn’t been there for you, my dear.” Rhaenyra explained softly and you sighed to yourself as you slipped into a silken robe, the fabric easy on the big bruise on your back and arms. Underneath, you already wore one of Jace’s long shirts, the fabric more of a dress on you. “If it is one thing I have learned, as someone who loves and is lucky enough to be loved, it’s that healing means accepting the help of others. No one will fault you if you want to be for yourself tonight, but I know Jace will do anything he can to help you recover from this, no matter what that might look like.”

You did not want to be alone.

You feared it, laying down in bed once again when the door could open at any moment and reveal the terrors, although Jacaerys had doubled the amount of guards outside his door, simply so you’d feel safe.

You wanted to feel sheltered and able to move past this with the one you loved more than anything else, the one who had first thought about when your life had been in grave danger.

You needed Jacaerys.

“Jace may come in again.” You said quietly, suppressing the urge to groan with every step. You had not seen it yet, but the pain the stone thrown to your back caused felt like a flare and you were sure the spot was already turning a deep shade of purple.

Rhaenyra led you towards Jace’s bed, seemingly pleased with your decision. “I’ll make my leave then. Sleep in tomorrow, the both of you. You need all the rest you can get.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.” You squeezed her hand in yours, bowing your head in gratitude. “And thank you for helping me.”

She smiled at you one last time, although there was a strain to it, her worry over a sneak attack like this consuming her mind. Tomorrow they’d speak about this in council, but tonight she’d let her son do the rest, his wide eyes meeting hers when she opened the door and let him in.

You turned around to look at him, your damp hair falling over your shoulder and his clothes, a princess despite the cuts and bruises on your skin. Jacaerys slowly walked to you and your heart stung when you noticed his blood-shot eyes and how pale he still was. He was tense all over, yet he softened as he came to a stop in front of you.

“Where does it hurt?” He asked quietly, looking for your honesty and not a false promise towards him.

You let out a shaky breath and leaned into him.

For a moment, you simply stood in front of each other, forehead against forehead and breathing each other in. Hot tears welled up in your shut eyes, his closeness rescuing and suffocating you at once. Jace’s nose touched yours and his soft curls tickled your cheeks and for a second, you thought that everything might be alright again when the morning came.

“My back. My cheek and wrists…” You whispered, your breath tickling his lips. “I know I’ve bathed and changed and I’m safe in your rooms, but…it feels like they’ve put me apart and I’ve been assembled back together wrongly.”

He shook his head, swallowing against his own lump in his throat. “You could never be wrong, my love.”

Your bottom lip wobbled dangerously, only doubling the pain in the cut grazing it. “I’ve been so scared, Jace. When they entered my room- Anything could’ve happened, they could’ve done anything to me-“

You gasped both in relief and sorrow as his arms pulled you against him, the hug both grounding and warm, something you thought you’d lost forever mere hours ago. You were too exhausted to cry once more, but the horror over what else could’ve been done to you shook you to your very core.

“I’m never going to let something like this happen again.” Jace promised you darkly as he tightened his arms around you, soothingly brushing his hand through your hair as you rested the unwounded side of your face against his heart. “You will never have to be afraid again, I promise. I should’ve been there, I should’ve stopped them-“

“You didn’t know they were here.” You reminded him, but you could feel the fury radiating off his body, an all-consuming rage deeply rooted in him. “No one did. No one is to blame except for the ones who sent them, Jace.”

“And they will pay.” You could practically feel the daggers he was glaring at the wall behind you. But just after a moment, you felt his anger deflate as he softly kissed the top of your head and gently lifted your chin so he could look at you. “You’ve been fighting all alone tonight, but I am here now and I want to be of use, beloved. Will you let me help?”

“I don’t want to upset you.” You almost bit your lip before you remembered the pain.

His gaze softened endlessly and he tucked a damp strand of your hair behind your ear. There were lots of tangled emotions inside of him still, but he saw you, this sweet delicate girl he had fallen for ever since the beginning and knew he had to take care of you now. “You could never upset me, my beautiful strong princess.”

The words were mending on your shaken soul and you closed your eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath before you let him to his work.

“The maester said the salve might be a little cool on the skin.” Jace murmured and you nodded in understanding. “And he gave me ice, scratched from the old side of the island’s cliffs, for your cheek.”

You took the dripping bundle from his hand, sighing as the cold cloth touched your cheek, the swelling subtle so far yet inevitable to strengthen throughout the night. But every bruise and cut on your body was better than not living to see the sun rise in the morning. “I could apply the salve on my own?”

Jace shook his head. “Let me do this for you.”

He walked with you to his bed, helping you sit down as he knelt before you, devotion shimmering in his eyes. You realized that he needed this just as much as you did, to prove himself he was able to take care of you now, even if he had not been there for you then.

He cupped your healthy cheek as you covered the other one with your ice. “Should we start with your back?”

Jace helped you lift the fabric, only so much so he could see where the stone had struck you, a dull bruise blossoming right next to your spine. It was nothing he had not yet seen so far, still you felt self-conscious under his attentive eyes.

You held very still as Jacaerys began to carefully apply the ointment to the bruise, his finger drawing soft and soothing circles over the blue spot. His other hand touched your waist, just barely underneath the fabric of his shirt on you and you closed your eyes as the cooling sensation drew a little pain from you and let it vanish.

“Good?”

“Feels good…” You murmured and tried to crawl into the feeling, the tiny relief washing away a little of the darkness from before. With a small kiss to your nape, he let the shirt fall and cover you again.

Next came your sore wrists. He lifted both of them, seeing the red marks where the tight rope had cut into your skin and swallowing hard. He wanted to unleash Vermax on the dusty bones of your captors again until their remains were annihilated from this earth. Jace softly kissed both of them before he dipped his fingers into the small jar again and repeated his careful motions.

You made a small sound in your throat and he stopped instantly.

“Too hard?”

You shook your head. “My lip…”

He sat down beside you, the mattress dipping underneath his weight and bringing you closer to him. The cut wasn’t pretty, but no cut was and you did not shy away from him as he took in the damage, one of his hands still rubbing circles into your wrist.

You held your breath as his coated thumb touched your bottom lip, his touch light as a feather as the cooling salve instantly mended the throbbing. Your hand reached up to hold his wrist, not ready yet to let him go when his touch felt infinitely good for your aching body. There was nothing sexual about the way you breathed against the pad of his thumb, relishing his care and simply letting it wash over you, and for a while you were simply content like this, Jacaerys remaining close to you as you breathed through the slowly ebbing pain.

“Do you want me to braid your hair for the night?” He asked quietly like he had so many times before.

Your wonderful beloved Jace. You nodded gratefully as he shuffled once more on the bed and sat behind you. Kissing the back of your head and brushing your hair over your shoulders for you, he got to work.

Your body was lulled into relaxation as his fingers combed through your hair, loosely braiding it so you wouldn’t have to wake up with tangles and knots in the morning. His warmth was a comfort against your back and if the vicious bruise hadn’t been there, you would’ve leaned back against him, ready to melt into his tenderness.

“Vermax saw right through them.” You spoke up after a while, your eyelids drooping from time to time from exhaustion as Jace finished up his braid for you. “He didn’t let them see at first, but there was a moment where I knew he was going to protect me, that he knew what was happening.”

“He loves you as if you were his own rider.” Jace mumbled, affection for you and his dragon in his voice. “I am glad he had been there for you when I wasn’t.”

“I want the finest sheep the shepherds can organize for tomorrow.” You looked over your shoulder with determination and Jacaerys frowned at you, a question in his eyes. You welcomed the small sting your lip caused you when its corner lifted up into a weak smile: “I want Vermax to be rewarded for defending his rider’s princess so honorably.”

“And I’d be honored to be the one to select it for you, my princess.” Jace’s face darkened, fury swirling in his brown orbs. “I still wish they would’ve suffered more. They deserved much more than a quick death of fire.”

His revengeful words were nothing against the soft touch with which he doted on you and when he was done and brushed his fingers once more over your hair, your body wanted to sink into his pillows and melt into them.

Jace laid down with you, carefully adjusting his position beside you so he wouldn’t accidently bump into your sore body. You exhaled deeply when your head touched his pillow, smelling so comfortingly of him. You could not bear to lie on your back, so you snuggled into Jace’s bed on your stomach, hugging his pillow and turning your head so you could look at your love.

He was resting on his side, his brown eyes searching for any discomfort you might have. Your eyes flickered over his shoulder, towards the door of his chambers.

“You are safe now, I promise.” Jace whispered and leaned forward, pressing a small kiss to your nose. “There are five guards outside and my sword leans against the bed. I’m here. Nothing bad will ever befall you again, my love, I swear it with my life.”

You gave him a tiny nod and tried to relax, although it was hard to keep the shadows lingering in the corners of the room at bay. You wiggled one of your hands out from under the pillow and found his, tugging him closer until his lean body warmed your side, one of his hands resting securely on your lower back.

“Tomorrow, I want to take a walk to the cliffs.” You whispered, longing for the fresh air and its cleansing effect.

Jacaerys smiled. “Then it will be arranged. Does my princess wish for any company?”

You nodded timidly, his playful undertone distracting you from the dull throb underneath the ointments. “And I want to have a picnic if the sun is out, with all my favorite things.”

“I’ll tell the kitchens then, first thing in the morning. They’ll be happy to please their future queen.”

“And when I’m healed, I want you to kiss me…” Your eyes drooped, the exhaustion from the night overpowering the little anxiety that remained in you.

“Your wish is my command...” Jacaerys mumbled back, his eyes on you as you slowly drifted off into a well-deserved sleep. He had not been entirely honest with you, there were many things he wanted to do.

He watched you sleep beside him, the most innocent sweet being he knew, covered with his warm clothes and bruises on your skin. Jace still held your hand and was not willing to let it go for the rest of the night.

At the soonest time, he’d convene a council meeting and strengthen the security around Dragonstone. He already had caught word of Daemon wreaking havoc on the guard unions patrolling around the castle for not being more attentive, for the princess was one of his favorite people in this family and Jace knew he’d have an ally for his cause.

He’d take his revenge for you.

But for now, he knew you needed him more than ever, and tomorrow he’d do his best to make you happy again. 

He could almost see it in the dark of the room, your eyes closed blissfully against the sunbeams, your hair dancing with the wind as you walked hand in hand as you had done so many times as children. You’d eat ripe peaches and cake and slowly, this incident would move past you until it was only what it was; a shadow in the corner, in the dead of night…

my taglist (open): @princesschimchim1325 @cecestea @jacesvelaryons @princessvelaryon @diannnnsss

[lookatmycat9445]

Recipe Roundup in Review

Last year, I posted a two-month series of recipes suitable for the autumn season, which everyone seemed to enjoy very much. I’ve been too busy this year to make up a new queue, so I thought I’d compile a big long list of links for anyone who’s looking for recipe ideas this fall.

Appetizers, Sides, & Snacks

A Pair of Stuffing Recipes

Asparagus Salad

Baked Apples

Beets with Cloves and Cinnamon

Bree’s Cheddar-Garlic Mashed Potatoes

Bree’s Homemade Colcannon

Carrot Fritters

Cheese & Bacon Pinwheels

Cheese Toasties

Cranberry-Orange Sauce

Fish Cakes

Irish Stout Apple Fritters

Oatmeal & Potato Bread

Parsnip & Apples

Pumpkin Seeds

Sprouts au Gratin

Soups

Butternut Squash and Pear Pottage

Cheese Soup & Dumplings

Chestnut Soup

Garlic Soup

Gingered Pumpkin Soup with Molasses Cream

King’s Arms Tavern Cream of Peanut Soup

Mashed Potato Soup

Mushroom Soup

Entrees

Acorn Squash with Cinnamon and Honey

Bree’s Baked Ziti

Bree’s Crockpot/One-pot Chili

Bree’s Fried Chicken Parmesan

Bree’s Honey Baked Salmon

Bree’s Poppy Seed Chicken Casserole

Bree’s Roast Chicken with Apples and Potatoes

Bree’s Sesame Ginger Chicken

Bree’s Turkey Hash Casserole

Dill-Crusted Salmon

Irish Stew

Meat Patties in Crust

Michaelmas Goose with Sage & Onion Stuffing

Pan Haggerty

Pumpkin Plenty

Roast Pork Tenderloin with Orange & Onion Sauce

Rosemary-Orange Beef

Spiced Pot Roast

Stuffed Acorn Squash

Stuffed Braised Beef

Surry Sausage, Squash, & Apple Bake with Savory Streusel Topping

Welsh Potato Pie

Welsh Trout in Bacon

Baked Goods

Applesauce Buttermilk Biscuits

Barm Brack

Beer-Bacon-Onion Muffins

Caerphilly Scones

Christiana Campbell’s Tavern Sweet Potato Muffins

Drop Scones

Gingered Pumpkin Muffins

King’s Arms Tavern Apple Cheddar Muffins

Tea Table Goodies

Apple & Potato Cake

Apple Raisin Cider Teabread

Bree’s Cranberry Pumpkin Bread

Irish Apple Cake

Irish Apple Teabread

Irish Whiskey Cake

Isle of Wight Farmhouse Cake

Marmalade Loaf

Porter Cake

Seed Cake

Welsh Crumpets

Desserts

Bramble Dessert

Bree’s Easy-Peasy Molten Chocolate Cake

Bree’s Semi-Sweet Chocolate Pumpkin Bundt Cake with Chocolate Liquer Glaze

Beverages, Jams, and Sauces

Mulled Cider

Samhain Wine Cup

Wassail

Blackberry & Apple Jam

Bree’s Dad’s Sauce Recipes

Delectable Dressings

Irish Whiskey Marmalade

Sources

Celtic Folklore Cooking (Asala)

A Kitchen Witch’s Cookbook (Telesco)

A Witch’s Brew (Telesco)

Kitchen WItch’s Guide to Brews and Potions (Telesco)

The Kitchen Witch (Soraya)

Witch in the Kitchen (Johnson)

The Colonial Williamsburg Tavern Cookbook (Gonzalez)

Favorite Meals from Williamsburg (Turgeon)

Holiday Fare: Favorite Williamsburg Meals (Gonzalez)

The Very Best of Irish Traditional Cooking (Lennon and Campbell)

An Irish Country Cookbook (Taylor)

[lookatmycat9445]

A Lantern of Love (Legolas x Reader)

The evening air in Rivendell was cool and fragrant, filled with the scent of blooming night jasmine, hints of river mist, and the comforting smell of the forest. All around you, lanterns cast a warm, golden glow, transforming the valley into a realm of soft light and gentle shadows. The flickering lamps, strung from the branches of ancient trees, mirrored the stars in the sky above, creating a breathtakingly serene landscape that seemed like something out of a dream.

But no part of Rivendell’s beauty could compare to the warmth of Legolas' hand in yours. It was strong and steady, his long fingers lightly curled around your own. Every time he squeezed your hand, even slightly, a flutter of warmth rose in your chest, reminding you of how deeply you'd come to love him.

The two of you had been together for some time now, but the excitement and quiet thrill of being close to him never faded. It was still new, still soft, and full of wonder—like a secret you kept between yourselves, even though everyone could see the tenderness in the way he looked at you. And tonight, his gaze was softer than usual, holding a quiet affection that made your heart beat a little faster.

As you strolled together under the illuminated trees, Legolas pointed out small details you’d never have noticed on your own. He had a way of seeing beauty in even the tiniest things: the shape of a leaf, the glisten of dew, the quiet trail of a falling leaf spinning softly to the ground. He shared these things with you as if offering you little pieces of his world, each word a gentle brush against your heart.

When you reached a large, sweeping oak by the riverbank, its branches adorned with a cascade of lanterns, he paused. The tree's branches dipped low over the water, and you could see the lanterns’ reflections shimmering on the river’s surface, moving with the current in delicate patterns of light. He turned to you, his gaze warm and inviting.

“Let’s sit here, shall we?” he asked, his voice soft, as though he didn’t want to disturb the quiet magic of the scene around you. His hand found the small of your back, guiding you to a spot beneath the tree, where the two of you could watch the river, feel the cool grass beneath you, and breathe in the beauty of the moment.

Settling beside him, you couldn’t help but marvel at the peacefulness in his eyes. It was rare to see him this relaxed, his normally alert stance softened as he leaned back, one arm draped comfortably around you. There, in the quiet stillness, he seemed more himself than ever—a part of this ancient world, yet fully present with you.

As you looked out over the softly illuminated water, he glanced at you with a smile that made your heart feel as though it had sprouted wings. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he murmured.

“Yes,” you whispered, glancing at him, “but not half as beautiful as this.”

Legolas’ eyebrows lifted slightly, a soft smile spreading across his face as he caught your meaning. A rare, quiet blush crept up his cheeks, a sight that you knew was just for you.

“You flatter me, meleth nin,” he murmured, his voice as gentle as the light around you. “But I am only as bright as I feel in your presence. These lanterns…” He gestured to the soft lights all around. “They are like my heart, lit only because you are here to give them life.”

You could hardly breathe, his words melting into you, filling your chest with an emotion so vast it felt like it would overflow. You reached out, tracing your fingers along his cheek, savoring the warmth of his skin, the feel of him. He closed his eyes at your touch, leaning into it, his expression unguarded in a way that made your heart ache with affection.

“Legolas,” you whispered, your voice barely louder than the murmur of the river. “I don’t know if you’ll ever fully understand what you mean to me.”

He opened his eyes, and in their clear blue depths, you saw a tenderness that mirrored your own. He caught your hand in his, bringing it to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss to each of your fingers, his touch light as a feather but warm as a hearth. He held your hand between both of his, cradling it as though it were the most precious thing in the world.

“Then let me show you,” he said softly, shifting slightly to face you more fully. “Come,” he continued, rising and offering his hand with a gentle smile. “Dance with me?”

You glanced around, noticing that there was no music. “But there’s no song,” you laughed, your voice light and full of warmth.

His smile widened, that familiar, mischievous glint sparking in his eyes. “There’s music enough here tonight,” he replied. “Listen closely—Rivendell sings for us.”

Closing your eyes, you let yourself listen, breathing in the sounds that surrounded you. You heard the faint, lilting laughter of elves in the distance, the babble of the river as it flowed steadily beneath the lanterns, the soft rustle of leaves swaying above you in the evening breeze. Together, it created a melody so subtle yet complete that you wondered how you hadn’t noticed it before.

When you opened your eyes, Legolas was watching you, his gaze so full of warmth that you felt as though you were glowing. He took your hands in his, drawing you close, his fingers brushing softly against your waist. Your hands found their place on his shoulders, and together, you began to sway, finding a rhythm in the harmony of Rivendell’s night.

His touch was warm, and he held you with such care that it felt like an embrace in every sense of the word. You felt as though you could stay like this forever, wrapped in the quiet steadiness of his arms, moving to the song of Rivendell and the beating of his heart.

“Do you remember the first time we danced?” he murmured, his voice a gentle hum in your ear.

You laughed softly, nodding as the memory filled you with warmth. “I do. You tripped over my feet, and we nearly fell.”

His laugh was soft and low, a sound you could listen to forever. “It was the most undignified I’ve ever felt,” he said, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “And yet… I would relive it a hundred times if it meant holding you like this.”

You leaned into him, your forehead brushing against his, and in that moment, the world seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of you beneath the canopy of lanterns. “Then hold me a little longer,” you whispered, your voice full of a quiet, aching affection. “I don’t ever want to let you go.”

Legolas tightened his arms around you, his face softening as he looked down at you. “You never need to ask, meleth nin,” he said, his voice like a vow. “For as long as there is breath in me, I will hold you. And even if the world were to fall away, even if I had to search across the stars themselves—I would always find my way back to you.”

Overwhelmed by his words, you felt a warmth fill your eyes, a quiet joy that seemed to reach down into the deepest parts of your heart. And as he leaned in, his lips brushed against yours, so gentle, so tender that it felt like a promise. His kiss was warm, a soft and steady affirmation of every vow he’d spoken, a declaration of the love you both held, unyielding and unbreakable.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his eyes closed as he held you close. In that quiet, precious moment, you both seemed to drink in the closeness, the quiet intimacy that bound you together more deeply than any words could express.

You settled down together by the riverbank, his arm wrapped around you as you leaned against his shoulder. The lanterns’ glow flickered over you both, casting warm patterns on the river and creating a soft, golden world around you. As you lay there together, watching the lights dance on the water, you felt a peaceful certainty bloom within you: that no matter what the future held, no matter where life took you both, you would always have this love, a light that would guide you through any darkness.

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

The night felt enchanted, with Rivendell bathed in golden light from the hanging lanterns. But as Legolas turned to you, holding a single, delicately crafted lantern in his hands, it felt as though the whole valley had quieted for just the two of you.

“This is for you,” he said softly, holding the lantern out with a tenderness that warmed you more deeply than any words could. His face, illuminated by the glow, was soft and open, the usual strength in his features softened by a rare, vulnerable affection.

You took the lantern, the smooth glass warm to the touch. Its soft glow seemed to hum with the same steady warmth that you felt every time you looked into his eyes. His fingers brushed yours as he handed it to you, lingering for a heartbeat longer, and the soft touch made your heart skip a beat.

“Thank you, Legolas,” you whispered, looking up to meet his gaze. “It’s beautiful.”

“Not nearly as beautiful as this moment,” he murmured, his eyes holding yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. He took a step closer, his hand lifting to gently cup your cheek, his thumb brushing a delicate line along your skin. He studied you for a moment, as though he wanted to memorize everything about this moment—the soft light, the quiet between you, and the look in your eyes.

And then, he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was tender and warm, carrying all the emotions he so rarely let himself show. His hand on your cheek was gentle, as though he feared he might break the moment if he held you too tightly, yet his kiss was steady, filling you with a sense of belonging, of being cherished.

As you pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his fingers moving to cover your hand as you both held the lantern together. “Hold onto your wish, meleth nin,” he said softly, his voice barely more than a murmur, yet carrying all the warmth and sincerity you felt in his embrace. “Whatever it may be, let it go with the light.”

Together, you lifted the lantern, holding it between you. You closed your eyes briefly, feeling the quiet magic of the moment, feeling his closeness and the steady strength of his hand covering yours. You breathed your wish into the lantern, letting it carry the quiet hope you held in your heart.

With a gentle release, you let go, watching as the lantern floated upward, its light drifting higher and higher into the night. Legolas’ arms wrapped around you from behind, pulling you close as you both watched it rise, the warmth of his embrace wrapping you in a feeling of absolute peace.

His chin rested lightly on your shoulder, and you felt his breath, soft and warm against your ear. “If I could, I would give you a thousand lanterns, each carrying a piece of my heart,” he murmured, his voice low and full of affection. “But even that would not be enough to show you how deeply you are loved.”

You leaned back into him, your heart swelling at his words, feeling his warmth as he held you close, his arms wrapped around you like a shelter. The lantern was now a faint dot of light among the stars, carrying your wish into the heavens. You felt a quiet, enduring happiness settle over you both, a peaceful certainty that whatever the future held, you would always have each other.

As you stood together, the golden lights of Rivendell casting soft shadows around you, Legolas’ arms remained securely around you, holding you as though he would never let you go. And in his embrace, surrounded by the beauty of the night, you knew that you had found a love that would carry you through all the days of your life—a love as enduring as the stars above.

[lookatmycat9445]

Clothes for a seamstress

In Mirkwood, an air of anticipation filled the silence before the harvest festival. Elves worked tirelessly to adorn the hall for the celebration, but all the royal attire, exquisite and majestic, was the work of a modest seamstress. For years, she had crafted garments for the elves and for the king himself, finding purpose in her craft.

This time, she had poured special care into Thranduil’s attire. Each stitch held her devotion and precision; each element reflected her pride. His cloak, the color of the midnight sky, was embroidered with golden threads that shimmered like starlight, and intricate symbols of his lineage adorned the cuffs. The garment was beautiful, embodying the wisdom and strength of the king of Mirkwood.

On the day of the celebration, all the garments for the elves were ready. She had meticulously arranged the final touches, assisting each of them in donning their finery, adding pearls and brooches with her delicate touch. Despite her modest role, her work was deeply appreciated—each elf expressed gratitude with warm smiles, though many did not even know her name.

The festivities had begun, and joyous music filled the hall, but the seamstress lingered in her workshop. She hadn’t found time to tend to herself, so she wore a simple, modest dress. Though it was a deep shade of blue, it drew little attention, and the narrow belt only accentuated her slight frame.

Eventually, she made her way to the celebration, hoping to remain inconspicuous. The hall gleamed with torchlight and dazzling outfits. She stood against the wall, quietly observing as Thranduil, dressed in her magnificent creation, greeted the guests. Her heart swelled with satisfaction, though he barely glanced her way. She resolved to stay in the shadows, but just then, an advisor approached and conveyed a simple, solemn request:

"The king wants you to come to his room."

A hint of mystery in his tone left her slightly apprehensive. She didn’t know the reason behind the king’s summons, yet she left the hall and followed him, abandoning her hope of remaining unnoticed. Entering his quarters, she found Thranduil standing by the window, deep in thought. His posture was proud, and when he turned to face her, his expression held a calm but intense authority.

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice your contribution to this festival?” he began, his gaze meeting hers. “You labor for everyone, yet you come to the celebration in such humble attire, as if you are of no importance.”

She wanted to respond, but the king stepped closer. “You are a master of your craft and deserve honors no less than any guest here,” he said gently, his tone leaving no room for protest. With that, Thranduil produced a gown of purest white from a chest. Unlike her plain dress, it was beautifully embroidered with silver threads, shimmering in the moonlight like milky rivers beneath the stars. “Allow me,” he murmured, helping her into it.

Every movement of his was filled with respect, and she felt her heart quicken as he He began to take off her clothes slowly, her heart skipped another unexpected beat when she was practically naked in front of him, Thranduil tenderly dressed her in her clothes, his fingers expertly tying the knots in her dress , while his eyes looked at her open neck and shoulders with special trepidation.

He didn't dare to speak first, many years had passed since they stopped talking, because... he was still hurt that he pushed you away because of his grief. But now... His fingers gently ran down your back, making you shudder.

"In those moments several centuries ago... I though ..." Stopping, Thranduil did not dare to continue what he wanted to say, but his arms wrapped around your waist, pressing your back to his chest, burying his nose in your neck.

"I miss you," he whispered, leaving a timid kiss on your shoulder.It was necessary for him...and for you as well, but he wanted to make amends with you.

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Humorous dialogue behind the scenes----->

Link to the post

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[lookatmycat9445]

Request: Cedric Diggory x Ravenclaw!fem!reader

Plot: Them being cutesy in the corridors and around campus, but instead of the teachers minding, they coo and cheer for the couple?

(professors I thought of specifically would be McGonagall, Sprout-especially bc Ced is in her house-Trelawney, and even Professor Binns)

No disturbances - Cedric Diggory

People never really had the opportunity to wonder if you were dating or not, because the little (or big) displays of affection between you and Cedric had started out from the second you'd become a couple. Hand holding in the hallways was quite common, especially when walking each other to classes, and shared kisses on the field after a Quidditch victory was inevitable, not a shadow of shyness despite all students and teachers being there to witness the rather intimate moment. Surprisingly, your fellow classmates had a bigger issue with your relationship than the teachers did, gossiping about you no matter how far away you were.

'Did you hear that they've been together for half a year now? I was convinced he'd cheat on her by now. ' or even,

'I swear she's spoken to other boys while they've been together though?'

Despite all the talk from those who knew nothing of your relationship, you continued acting as you usually would, linking arms while leading each other through the crowded hallways and having intimate picnics by the black lake on days where the sun shone bright. Cedric, ever so proud of being able to call you his girlfriend, grins widely at teachers every time they cross you in the halls, though you shyly duck your head away, avoiding the intimidating eye contact with those you respect so much.

It was only one night when you'd been making your way down the halls way passed curfew that you thought you'd definitely lose all your 'turning a blind eye privilege' from the teachers. Clad in your warm pyjamas, you'd been making your way down to the Hufflepuff common room. You'd sighed in relief when you turned the last corner to get to the common room, the risk of bumping into teachers or prefects significantly increased due to how far both common rooms were. It was only when you walked further down the corridor that you saw the two figures approaching you, and you froze. It was too late to try to hide or run.

Right in front of the Hufflepuff common room entrance stood Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout, doing their rounds together for students out of bed. Your eyes widened and your jaw went slack, watching as the two older women realised your intentions. A sly smile made its way onto Professor Sprout's face as she chuckled quietly, Professor McGonagall only raising her eyebrows at you in mock surprise. At that same moment, the entrance to the common room opened, revealing your very own boyfriend standing in sweatpants and a Hufflepuff jumper.

"Oh shit." He whispered, eyes widening at the scene. You laughed awkwardly, looking down at your feet. "I didn't see anything." You heard Professor McGonagall mumble as she turned back around to walk down the corridor. Your head shot up at her comment, confusion overtaking you. Professor Sprout followed her movements, adding "Didn't see what?" Giving you the opportunity to run into the common room, all blood having rushed to your face.

[lookatmycat9445]

-Recording begins-

Spider-Man: Hi folks! I’d like to give a PSA to my usual villains, and anyone else with ideas for the next two months.

Spider-Man: *holds up a brick sized lump of metal* See this? It’s titanium!

Spider-Man: *starts flattening it out and shaping it*

Spider-Man: See, we all know that I’m crazy strong, but I never wanna really hurt anybody right? Right. While that hasn’t changed, something very important does right around this time of year.

Spider-Man: *pulls off a glove and pulls a chunk into a long stem with his nails carving lines for added texture*

Spider-Man: See, this is what we like to call exam season. Anybody who knows anything about college can tell you that it drives people up the wall, and I already climb mine when I’m antsy.

Spider-Man: *starts winding the thin sheet around the stem, delicately crimping petals in place*

Spider-Man: I do wanna be clear that this isn’t a threat, okay? I’m still not interested in crossing the line, which brings me to my point.

Spider-Man: *throws the titanium rose at the brick wall behind him, stem first, and embeds it all the way through*

Spider-Man: /That/ was restrained because I could focus enough to have full control. If I’m extremely tired or otherwise distracted, there’s just as much risk of me slipping up as someone operating heavy machinery. I’m probably not going to remember what sleep is for two whole months, so remember!

Spider-Man: *pulls out a brick and snaps it like a cookie*

Peter fucking Parker: Don’t.

[lookatmycat9445]

Yet another JL learns about Batfam post

Featuring: everybody loves Nightwing

So, Nightwing isn’t technically a member of the JL, but everyone knows him and adores him. Even Batman seems to tolerate him fine.

They’re on a mission. Let’s say alien invasion. Or killer robots. Something large scale and dramatic.

Everyone’s fighting in the same general vicinity. Nightwing and Batman just happen (read: either very carefully planned, unconscious habit, or a combination of the two) to be fairly close together.

Suddenly, an explosion happens. Everyone is knocked down. Including the aliens/robots. Conveniently, they stop being an issue now, so we can focus on The Reveal.

Anyway, everyone knocked down. They start to get up and look around, checking to see that everyone is fine. And it looks like everyone is well and accounted for, except…

Nightwing!

Where’s Nightwing? They all start to panic (except Batman). Is Nightwing okay? Where did he go? Is he hurt?

And then Nightwing ducks out from under Batman’s cape, with a grin on his face, sunny and cheerful as ever.

“Well it looks like that instinct is fully intact. Explosion? Duck under the cape.”

He laughs at himself and Batman’s face twitches in what his family would read as a smile and most of the JL thinks they’re hallucinating.

“Do you two know each other?” They want to ask. And it’s been long enough that it would probably be awkward to ask. But they’re confused/curious enough that they might ask anyway.

[lookatmycat9445]

and while i’m on a self indulgent thing? i think that any of the kids calling Bruce “dad” changes his whole demeanor. it helps him know that whatever they’re talking about is serious.

hearing his name shouted across the house does nothing for him. a hundred people say his name all day, including his kids. whatever the situation is can be fixed.

but hearing “Dad!”, cried out in battle or screamed from the other room, has him rushing to their side. what is it love and i’m here you’re alright and shh i’ve got you

“Bruce, I need help” = can’t open this large jar, have a question about math homework, need someone to look at this case file for me

“Dad, I need help” = I am hurt. I am scared. I am in danger. I need you to make things better. I need you to protect me.