#Sunrise Maids

[yourlocalabomination]

The skin of maids

[ayowotsdis]

Now, most of what i write is very grim dark fantasy with a lot of midsummer nights dream whimsy but BUT what I told you I have a standalone in works (which could take years) which a is a PURE love story between a court jester and a maid, who have been friends for long. I watch them go from bickering friends to still bickering absolutely enamoured lovers luke these two need each other to BREATH kinda love. And listen, Jane Austen is my GURU, the aesthetic of this book is the 2005 Pride and Prejudice but with more fantasy, a LOT more kisses and every one of them will feel like the "Mrs Darcy" one or I will scream into the cosmos. The friendship between those two is inspired by an irl friendship of mine but we're more platonic. Likeeeeeeee, I absolutely hate modern romantasy because I like smut but why is it just always smut. I want romance, I want the before sunset, p&p 2005, 90s romcom vibes. I want LIGHT, ITS GOLDEN SHE LIKES SHINY THINGS BUT SHE'LL MARRY HIM WITH PAPER RINGE KINDA STUFF. So I took matters into my own hands. The maids name hasn't been fully confirmed yet but my friend named the clown Patricio. Oh and I got the inspiration for this story from staring at the kiss by Gustav Klimt for hours :)

A very casual convo between me and my friend :p

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Thiis place is lacking in the cregan stark department! How about Cregan coming to his chambers to find his southern targ wife in the bath and he join in and offer to warming her up…iykwim

I have two other Cregan wip in my drafts. More is coming <3

Warnings: 18+, smut, masturbation (both receiving), p + v, this is not foot fetish,

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

—

Warm water enveloped your body like a blanket, making you sigh as you laid your head back against the edge of the tub. The maids who drew your bath had offered to help scrub your body and wash your hair, but you told them you simply wanted to relax after today’s petitions. 

Although you spent your day sitting in a chair, it was exhausting. People’s requests and complaints were exhausting.

You closed your eyes, the crackling sound coming from the hearth and the lavender oils in the water creating a calm ambiance.

‘’Is there room for me?’’ Cregan’s deep voice inquired, standing across the tub. 

Startled, your eyes shot open, having not heard him enter your chambers or call out his greetings. 

A smile curled on your lips as you glanced up at your husband, the warm water in front of you sloshing a bit from the sudden movements. ‘’Always.’’ 

You shifted in the tub, pulling your legs to your chest to make room for him. Its circle shape made it larger than the regular copper tubs, which was perfect to fit two people. 

Cregan swiftly disrobed, his clothes falling into a lump on the floor before stepping in the warm water. ‘’Seven Hells, this it hot.’’ 

A soft giggle slipped from your lips. ‘’The water has cooled down since I got in,’’ you explained as he settled before you, angling his long legs on each side of you. ‘’Us, Targaryens, have a stronger endurance to heat. It’s the blood of the dragon.’’ 

‘’I’ll take you to the hot springs some time, it should please you.’’ 

‘’Sounds heavenly. Will you join me?’’

Northerners were not fond of the Winterfell hot springs, too hot for their likings, but Cregan would never turn down an occasion to be with you. Especially naked. 

‘’If my lady wishes me to,’’ he murmured softly, unfolding your leg with care. His strong hands began to massage your calf, kneading your muscles gently and expertly.

A low moan escaped your lips as you leaned back against the tub, savoring the tenderness of his touch. He continued massaging your leg, his fingers working their way up before going back down and pressing a gentle kiss to your ankle. 

‘’Enjoying yourself?’’ Cregan asked, knowing the answer already from the blissful expression on your face. 

You hummed. ‘’Do you want me to wash you?’’ 

Although there were maids to assist lords and ladies with their baths, you enjoyed running a soapy sponge over your husband’s shoulders and chest. It was a moment of intimacy you cherished. 

And the idea of another woman helping your husband bathe made you green with jealousy. 

You shifted closer and grabbed the bar of soap, lathering it on a sponge before gently scrubbing the soapy sponge over Cregan’s broad shoulders. He made no movement as you washed him, allowing himself to unwind for the first time since sunrise. 

The suds dripped down his hard chest and into the bath water as you moved down his arms. The close proximity caused Cregan's eyes to rake over your bare breasts, drinking you in with a wolf’s appetite. 

He reached forward, tugging at your hip. ‘’Come here.’’ 

The Northman captured your lips into a kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth. You winded your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer to you, kissing passionately. There was no need to make haste as the day was over, so you took your time. Cregan ran his palms up the length of your thighs before hoisting you on his lap in one motion. The water made it slippery, but you held on to your man.

The water swished, spilling slightly over the tub. You paid it no mind, feeling Cregan's large hands roaming up your naked body. He cupped a breast in his palm, his thumb flicking against the sensitive bud, drawing another sound of pleasure from you.

This was what he meant on your wedding day when he promised to keep you warm. 

You rutted atop him until your cunt found his hard cock under the water and rubbed yourself against it. Cregan groaned from the friction, his blood thrumming from the contact, igniting his desires. 

‘’Impatient, are we?’’ he teased, chuckling against your lips. 

Rising on his knees, Cregan pushed you down until you were resting against the tub, and parted your legs. Your needy cunt was begging for his attention. He plunged his hand in the water to toy with your clit, and your soft mewls filled the room. 

‘’Ahh, that feels good,’’ you said, opening your legs wider and catching sight of his rock-hard cock standing against his lower stomach. It twitched under the soapy water, red tip peaking out. You reached to stroke him, getting a low curse in response.  

The foreplay didn’t last long, just enough to get you going. When you had enough, you rose on your knees and turned to grab the edge of the tub, presenting your behind to your lord husband. Getting the message, Cregan kneeled behind you. He took a moment to admire your glistening folds before slowly pushing his thick cock inside.

You sucked in a breath, your inner walls pulsed around him as he entered, filling you up. You couldn’t help but moan from how good it felt. He began to thrust slowly, his low groans mixing with your moans and praises. There was no greater pleasure than this. 

Cregan ran his slightly calloused hands up and down your soapy back and hips, then tenderly squeezed your ass. You whimpered in pleasure, and he smirked at your reaction. This was never a position Cregan thought he would enjoy. He found it animalistic and unromantic. But your adventurous side was bleeding through him. 

After a harder thrust, your hand slipped, reminding you that bath intercourses were not the safest. Fortunately, Cregan was quick, grabbing your shoulder before you could hurt yourself. 

‘’This is not going to work,’’ he decided, not wanting to have to explain to the maester how you split your chin…

You let out an unhappy whine when he pulled out. The emptiness didn't last long. Cregan went back to where he had been sat, and pulled you over him, his cock slipping with ease back into your cunt.

Water splashed over the tub as you began to slowly ride him, gripping onto his biceps and creating moon shaped indents into his skin as he was kissing your jaw and neck. The maids who will clean up in the morrow will no doubt wonder how all that water got out of the tub. 

His breathing began to quicken, and a low groan escaped his throat as you picked up your pace. He buried his head into your neck, nipping at your skin. ‘’Slow down. Don’t want—agh this to end so soon.’’

‘’Can't,’’ you whined, lost in your own pleasure. Your head fell back as you rode him even faster, your breasts bouncing in rhythm, perky and heavy, perfect to nurse his future babes. 

He dug his fingertips into your thighs, trying to hold you back as he panted against your chest, but you were determined to reach your peak. ‘’Seven hells, you’ll be the end of me.’’

Cregan’s control was slipping, his breaths turning ragged. You loved him like this. Your powerful, confident Warden of the North, completely lost and at your mercy.

Your hips rolled against his and your legs were quivering, but you kept up your pace, desperately needing to finish. 

Cregan felt you clench around him, your orgasm reaching its peak, and swallowed your strangled cry as he captured your mouth in a hungry kiss. He didn’t last much longer after that. With a guttural moan, the northman spilled his seed inside of you, his hips bucking up to prolong the release.

‘’I’m going to miss you when you leave for the Wall’’ you said, still attached to Cregan’s body. ‘’Winter is long.’’ 

He drew lazy circles along your bare hip with his thumb as he pressed a sweet kiss under your jaw. ‘’The water is getting cold. We should get out.’’

—

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[merlot-and-chardonnay]

Quality Father-Son Time

Aegon II Targaryen x Targaryen!reader (Daughter of Rhaenyra) x Aemond Targaryen

YAY!!! I get to do ANOTHER drabble based on the works of @maidragoste and the series The Queen and Her Husbands. (thanks so much, hun :))

I had to write this after seeing the season premier and seeing Aegon spend time with little Jaehaerys (before that one scene I won't get into because it made it all the more tragic and upsetting).

*Also go support the original writer of this series.

Summary: Aegon is woken up early in the morning by his son so they can go dragon riding for the day.

Content Warnings: Allusions to Blood and Cheese, and some residual trauma from losing a child/children. Also some brief suggestive content with reader and Aemond (because I couldn't help myself and had a feeling the reader would take this moment to spend time with her first husband while her second husband is busy bonding with his son)

It was early in the morning. The sun hadn't even begin to make its daily ascent into the sky, and most of the Red Keep was still abed, including the king and queen as well as their children.

Well...almost all the children.

There was one little soul up already, dressed and eager to get the day started.

Daeron eagerly scampers into his parents' bedroom. "Kepa! Kepa! Wake up, we have to go!"

You and Aegon were soundly asleep, slowly being woken up by Daeron nudging the bed, trying to get his father up and going. Aemond wasn't there as he was currently in Oldtown resolving matters over there, though he was due to return sometime today.

"Kepa. Kepa!" Daeron starts whining.

"Your son is awake, husband," you mutter in your sleepy state. Aegon just groans a bit and turns over putting an arm around you, "before sunrise he is YOUR son," he mutters with the intent of going back to sleep.

"Kepa! KEPA!" Daeron starts pulling on the blankets but ended up falling backwards in his zeal. Finally having enough, Daeron pounced on his father, "Kepa, you promised!" Aegon was effectively roused from sleep, opening his eyes to see the stern look on his son's face.

Aegon knew already what the boy was talking about, "Alright, Daeron, alright. I'm up, I'm up," he sleepily assures turning on his back and rubbing his eyes. "Yeah!" Daeron exclaims with glee, climbing off the bed.

Right on cue, a couple nursemaids walked in through the open door. "Prince Daeron," the older maid exclaims, before hastily bowing, realizing the king was already up "oh forgive us, your Grace," she hastily apologizes, "the prince just ran off without notice we didn't-" "It's quite alright," Aegon assures, stretching a bit, "the young prince wished to start the day. Up before the sun it seems." "Yes, your Grace."

"Daeron, you go and break your fast. I'll join you in a moment," Aegon says, patting Daeron on the head before the boy scampered off out the room. "See to it that he actually does get some food in his belly," Aegon orders the maids. "Of course, your Grace," the maids quickly bow and go follow Daeron to the kitchens.

"What exactly did you promise Daeron that he must ruin our peaceful morning so early?" you ask, eyes still closed as Aegon leaves the bed to gather his clothes for the day. "I told him I would take him flying on Sunfyre," he tells you as he starts to dress, "We've had a busy week, and haven't had the time. I told Daeron if he was patient and on his best behavior I would take him flying. He made good on his promise. Now I must make good on mine."

"The reward of dragon flying was surely a great motivator," you say, turning a bit in the bed, "I wonder why Daeron was extra considerate this week."

Aegon chuckled at that statement, having finished putting on the rest of his riding ensemble. "Don't forget we have afternoon tea later today," you tell him, "Jaehaera has spent all week organizing this little event, and it would break her heart if her father was absent for it." "I wouldn't miss it for the world," Aegon assures, "We'll be back before then," he leans into the bed and pressed a kiss on your temple, "give my regards to Aemond should he return before Daeron and I do."

"Of course," you nod, slowing going back to sleep for a couple more hours before you start your own day.

After a quick light meal to break their fast, Aegon and Daeron walked to the wheelhouse which had been set up surprisingly fast for the king and his son. "Hurry, Kepa, hurry!" Daeron insists as he tries to jump in, only to tumble back from the steps. Lucky for him, Aegon was quick to catch his son, "whoa, slow down, boy," Aegon light scolds, getting Daeron in, "there's no rush, the dragons won't be going anywhere without us."

"I can't help it, Kepa," Daeron says, "I just really want to go flying, I've been waiting all week." "I know you have," Aegon says with a smile as he lifts Daeron and sets him on his knee as he takes a seat in the wheelhouse, "that's why you've been so good this week. Haven't been up to any mischief, yes?" He boops his son on the nose, making Daeron giggle in response, Aegon giggling back. As happy an occasion this was, Aegon found his mind starting to linger on more melancholy thoughts, though he wouldn't show it for the sake of his child.

It was moments like these that would make Aegon think of similar moments he had with Jaehaerys. How he would hold the boy in a similar position as Daeron whenever they made trips to the dragon pit to go riding on Sunfyre. Aegon tried not to think about those times, as the loss of his past children was still not something he has fully gotten over, and likely never will. Even if he will still get upset about it at times, he'll choose to think about the children he has who are still healthy and alive.

"Can we have Sunfyre do tricks in the air while flying?" Daeron asks, bringing Aegon out of his thoughts, "I don't think that's such a good idea, Daeron," Aegon tells him, "we can get him to breathe fire while flying, that might be better." "Okay, Kepa," Daeron nods.

Before either of them knew it, the wheelhouse had stop. They had made it to the dragon pit.

Daeron was first to jump out, eagerly running towards the pit, with Aegon trailing not far behind. The dragon keepers greet both the king and prince as they walk inside.

Daeron practically sprints towards Sunfyre the moment he catches site of the golden dragon. "Hold on, son," Aegon calls out, placing a hand on Sunfyre's snout the moment the dragon lowers his head towards his rider. Aegon smiles. Though Sunfyre still bore the scars from past battles waged before Daeron was born, the dragon was still a beauty to behold.

"Kepa, come on! Let's go flying." "Alright, alright," Aegon concedes, helping his son up onto the saddle before mounting the beast himself. Once Sunfyre was out of the dragon pit, Aegon gave the command and they were soon flying.

Daeron had a wide grin on his face the whole time during the take off. Aegon couldn't help but grin himself, seeing how excited his son was to be doing this with his father.

------meanwhile-------

You had decided to properly wake up and begin your day. Daeron excluded, the rest of your children were probably still sleeping. The maids would wake them soon so as to have them break their fast and start their morning lessons.

You half expected to for food to be set up on the table already for yourself. It was, but to your surprise you heard splashing sounds in the water closet. You frown a bit, having not expected Aegon to return so soon.

You take a peak inside and to your shock and amazement, it was your OTHER husband who had just settled into the copper tub, steam rising from it.

"Aemond!" you exclaim, getting the prince's attention. You run over, kneeling at the side of the tub so as to give your husband a kiss. "I though you weren't to return till later in the day," you tell him, "much later." "We finished early," Aemond admits, "I...I didn't wish to wait to return to see my family again." "I missed you too, Aemond," you give him another kiss, "We all missed you." "If that is so, where is my brother?"

"He took Daeron dragon riding today," was your answer, "I thought you would've run into the two of them while you were riding back on Vhagar." "Hmm, it appears we missed each other," Aemond says, slight smirk on his face, "although, that would give the two of us time to each other." "...I suppose so," you say with a smirk of your own, "the children will be waking soon, though, and I know our sons will be eager especially to see their father back in the Holdfast. Not to mention we have Jaehaera's afternoon tea later in the day." "Well then," Aemond turns your way, a wicked look in his eye, "we best make this a quick one, wouldn't you say, dear wife?"

----------meanwhile-------------------

"Watch me Kepa!" Daeron gleefully says, taking both his hands off the saddle and stretching his arms to sides to feel the wind rush as Sunfyre flew a little higher.

Aegon instinctively holds onto his son, fear lingering in the back of his mind that Daeron could fall, even though the boy was well secured to the saddle.

Nothing was going to happen, Aegon keeps mentally saying to himself. Nothing is going to happen. Daeron is not Jaehaerys, nor is he Maelor or Daenera. They may be gone but his son was still alive in the present. And Seven willing, it was going to stay that way even after Aegon and his wife and brother have long passed from this world.

Aegon started thinking back to when he and his wife started taking Daeron to Small Council meetings as a baby shortly after the death of his twin, how you and him were scared that something terrible was going to happen to your child if you took your eyes off him for even a second. Those were admittedly trying times, more so for Aegon, and even though you and your husband had managed to heal from the loss, the fear that something like that could happen again still lingered in the back of the king's mind every now and then.

It got a little easier as time went on. NEVER easy, but a little more bearable.

Seeing how high they were in the sky in the present, Aegon took this time to bond some more with his son, taking this time to say the things he never got to say with Jaehaerys, "see all that before you, Daeron?" he asks, to which Daeron nods in response.

"All this: King's Landing, the Crownlands, the Riverlands, Stormlands, the Reach, the North...the whole of the Seven Kingdoms. One day it will all be yours to rule the day you sit the Iron Throne." "When will that happen, Kepa?" Daeron asks, looking at his father with curiosity.

Aegon took some time to put his words together before he made his answer, "look to the sun," he nods in the direction the sun was currently in, "a king's time as ruler is like the sun. It rises, and then it falls. One day, Daeron, the sun will set on my time. BUT it will rise again, with YOU as the new king."

"And all this will be mine?" Aegon nods in response, "it will. But it will be some time before then. You still have much to learn. But, we shall not worry over such things today."

The two continue their flight. Aegon looks to the sun to see it was almost high noon. They would need to land soon so as to make it back to the Red Keep and prepare themselves in time for Jaehaera's tea party.

Aegon directs Sunfyre back to the Dragon pit. Daeron was a little sullen having to end their flight time so soon, but Aegon picks Daeron up and carried the boy back to the wheelhouse, assuring him there will be loads of times to go flying again. And, when Daeron is a little older, he would have ample opportunities to fly his own dragon without his father's supervision.

By the time Aegon and Daeron returned to the Red Keep and bathed and dressed in new clothes, the afternoon tea had already been set up in the gardens. Jaehaera was leading the social event. Among her guests were her cousins and siblings as well as her stepmother, her grandmother, and her uncle Aemond as well as your little brother Aegon the Younger.

Egg, it should be noted, had a look of admiration as Jaehaera directed the servants to pour the tea and serve the finger foods.

Jaehaera had the biggest smile on her own face when she saw her father Aegon and Daeron join them at the table. "Perfect timing, husband," you say with approval as the tea was served, "I trust the two of you had a good outing."

"It was good," Aegon assures, placing Daeron in his chair, patting him on the head before greeting the rest of the children, giving Jaehaera a kiss on the head, and welcoming his brother back after his trip from Oldtown.

Taking a seat, Aegon gazed at the whole of his family as they sipped their tea and exchanged pleasantries with one another.

This was his family, he thinks to himself, small smile on his face. They were here, alive, happy, and healthy. Seven willing, it will stay that way, even as their family continues to grow. Seven willing, there will be more happy times like this ahead in the near future, more enough to eclipse the sad times of the past.

[nataliasquote]

Midas Touch | n romanoff

Part 1 | Part 2

Summary: no amount of money will ever save a broken marriage or a broken woman. But maybe the right person can turn everything she touches into gold and this time won’t be cursed to break everything she cares about.

Warnings: affair, cheating wife, forbidden love, small mention of physical abuse (a slap)

Pairings: maid!Natasha x wife!reader

wc: 7.1k 😬

Note: another AU? Why are we even surprised. But this idea fully goes to @katyaromanoffpetrova who does just fuel my need to write every AU possible. If you thought cowgirl Nat was hot… oh just you wait. Also the end got angsty, but you should learn to expect that with me now..

-⧗-

Being up before the sun wasn’t anything Natasha wasn’t used to. Even before she got this job, mornings were her favourite. The way the world looked when it was kissed by the watery sun that rose above the rooftops hours before anyone was awake to see it was one of life’s hidden gems.

And one of the many perks of being a live-in maid to one of the richest men in the America was the views from every window in the staggering mansion. The west side of the house overlooked the bustling city below, which was beautiful at night. But Natasha’s favourite was the east wing that revealed rolling countryside and the perfect place to watch the sunrise over the distant hills.

Her maid duties never started this early, but she didn’t mind being awake. It gave her a sense of peace before the mania of the day began. She wasn’t the only maid in the Barnes residence, but her task was slightly different than everyone else’s. She was Y/n Barnes’ maid and that in itself came with a whole host of other challenges.

Seven am was when her ‘day’ started, for the lady of the house was not an early riser. She usually wouldn’t be seen out of bed until at least nine, but on the days James left for work early, she would always see him off from the front door. And wherever Y/n was, Natasha was never far behind, lurking in the background with her hands clasped in front.

Y/n’s laugh was the first thing Natasha heard of her boss, before she was even seen. Her voice oozed wealth and that laugh practically dripped honey and diamonds as it echoed through the high ceilings of the stairwell. With her arm draped over her husband’s bicep, Y/n lingered on the last step, teasingly trying to tower over James’ muscular frame as he shrugged his suit jacket on.

He muttered something in her ear and Natasha watched as Y/n’s neutral expression suddenly switched to a cunning smile and her fingers fumbled with the small tie holding her feathered robe closed. The front fell open, revealing her nightwear beneath it and it was not hard to see the way James’ eyes fell to his wife’s cleavage for a couple of seconds.

These small moments cemented why they were the nation’s favourite couple, and also why Vogue was so insistent on featuring them on the cover. They were still so lovesick yet utterly perfect in a way that didn’t happen by chance. This level of perfection was almost nauseating.

Y/n stepped down off the bottom stair and looked up at James through her lashes, playing the innocent game despite being anything but.

“Goodbye, my love. Try not to murder anyone today,” she husked in her husband’s ear, draping her arms around his neck with a lazy smile. James’ hand fell to the small of her back and he pulled her into him, kissing her lips hastily.

“No promises. Be good.” Y/n was on her tip toes but hardly felt the coolness of the stone floor on her bare feet. She leaned her face into Bucky’s palm that had risen up to cup her cheek. Soft fingers straightened out the lapels of his pristine suit jacket almost habitually.

“No promises,” she mimicked with a smirk, her eyes sparkling playful up at her husband who was transfixed by her sultry gaze. She was truly a siren, luring him in with a simple glance and a smile. Her power didn’t come from her social status; it came from her. The kind that couldn’t be earned or bought, no matter how much money you had.

With another lingering kiss, James pulled away and reached for the drawer of car keys and selected from the collection of sports cars most could only fantasise about. His dark grey McLaren Senna was today’s pick and he tossed the key in his palm like it wasn’t part of a car costing close to a million dollars. His wealth really was astonishing.

Y/n watched him disappear out of the heavy iron front doors and pulled her robe tighter around her body, concealing the simple navy blue silk slip dress that hung delicately from her shoulders. Her robe matched in colour, of course, and the feathers adorning the trim and cuffs swayed as she wandered into the vast kitchen.

She was the typical rich housewife, but it didn’t look tacky on her. She suited this life. Her wrists, neck and fingers might as well have been crafted to be decked out in priceless jewels, her body to wear only the finest garments. Even just the way she moved oozed grace and elegance subconsciously. A sight for sore eyes.

“Natasha,” she called, knowing the redhead was only a few steps behind her. “I’d like my breakfast on the balcony today please.”

“Yes ma’am,” Natasha replied with a small nod of her head.

“Oh, and don’t bother bringing any of that apricot jam you brought yesterday. I only want strawberry, darling. Only strawberry.” She swept back out of the room in a flash of blue and Natasha scurried down to the kitchen to inform the chef.

Now, if it was anyone else, that pet name probably would have sent them reeling. But Y/n was extremely fond of using those names, so it was basically second nature to Natasha.

The breakfast tray was laden with food and beverages as Natasha brought it out onto the balcony. Y/n was relaxing in a chair, still in her nightwear and robe as she scowled over the newspaper in her hand.

“You know, I do find these world affairs awfully boring.” Y/n didn’t bother looking up from her newspaper as Natasha appeared with the tray. She frowned at the column she was reading before folding it away on the table. “I don’t suppose you read that kind of thing anyway.”

Natasha carefully set the coffee pot down on the table. “I try to keep up with what’s going on in the world. But not as often as I’d like.”

“Do you read the paper?”

“No, Ma’am.”

Y/n hummed. “You can have this one if you want. I don’t care for it and James only complains about the headlines. You’d make much better use of it, honey.”

“Thank you, Ma’am. I really appreciate it.”

“Natasha stop,” Y/n held her hand up, making Natasha freeze mid pour. “I’ve told you to call me Y/n. All this ‘ma’am is making me feel old!” Y/n sighed dramatically, pushing her sunglasses up into her hair. “I’m not even thirty yet, don’t make me age faster.”

“I’m sorry, Ma-,” she faltered but caught herself quickly, “Y/n, it’s a force of habit.” It wasn’t so much of a habit than it just felt weird to say. This first name basis insinuated they were friends, not two people on drastically different pay grades.

“Well, luckily for you, habits were made to be broken.” There was a heavy intonation in her words, laced with hidden meaning but Natasha just busied herself with setting up the breakfast platter. Various fruits and pastries were laid out, despite Y/n always just picking at a few berries and a croissant. Natasha hung back near the french doors, admiring the scenery so she didn’t watch her boss as she ate.

Y/n slid her sunglasses back onto her nose and stood up to lean over the balcony, the gentle breeze blowing her open robe softly. “Did that package arrive yet? The one from the lingerie company?”

“Yes, it’s in your dressing room.”

“Perfect,” Y/n hummed, her eyes sparkling behind tinted lenses. “I’m going to go try it all on, I think. When you’ve taken the tray, join me, will you?”

Natasha faltered, trying not to look at the outline of her boss’s figure through the thin material of her robe. But with the sun shining through it, it was proving difficult to keep her eyes off the curve of her hips.

“Me?”

“Yes you, Natasha,” Y/n confirmed, smiling to herself. “Who else would I be talking to?”

“My apologises ma’am, I’ll take this right away.”

Y/n didn’t bother correcting Natasha that time, too busy gazing at the rolling landscape beneath her. She found comfort in nature, the way the breeze brushed over her skin and the sun kissed her cheeks making her melt slightly. It differed vastly from the heavy touch of James’ hands, ones she played through a heavy facade to enjoy.

Y/n’s dressing room was that of dreams, just like the rest of her house. But she barely noticed it anymore. Her gaze settled on a white box on the central dresser, smiling to herself. She enjoyed the luxuries of life, and that included lingerie too. She told everyone it was for James, but really it was for her.

She just wanted to feel good for herself.

But those damn feathered sleeves kept getting in the way, so she shrugged her robe off and let it pool on the floor around her feet. She barely noticed the cooler air on her exposed limbs, too busy pulling off the lid and moving the tissue paper aside to reveal the soft coloured lace and mesh, all pastel colours for spring.

Natasha rushed back upstairs as gracefully as she could, passing through the master bedroom to the dressing room at the end. The door was ajar so she knocked three times, as usual, before pushing it open. Her breathing faltered involuntarily.

Was it normal to have that kind of reaction after seeing her boss in nothing but a mini slip dress? There was so much skin and Natasha took a second to gather her thoughts before she announced her presence, keeping her eyes firmly away from the woman in front of her.

“Natasha I want your opinions on these, come here.” The redhead obeyed and joined her side, eyes widening at the items before her. “What do you think?”

This kind of underwear was probably worth Natasha’s entire salary and she was apprehensive to touch it. Her hands stayed by her sides but she tried look objectively, even if she could barely tell the difference between the sets.

“I like that one the best,” she murmured, pointing slightly to a soft pastel blue set. Y/n smiled and plucked it from the box, holding it in front of her.

“Me too, you’ve got good taste.” Y/n slipped one strap of her nightdress from her shoulder and Natasha immediately turned around, almost squeaking at the lack of warning. “You didn’t have to do that, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

Except it was. Because this wasn’t just any woman’s body, it was her mistress’s and there was no way she would ever be able to erase the images burned in her mind.

“I’ll just,” she started, trying to fill the silence by picking up the discarded robe and hanging it on a hook to her right. She caught Y/n fiddling with the bra clasp on her back, the hooks not quite fitting together.

“I hate new clasps,” Y/n exclaimed through gritted teeth, the hooks slipping once again. “Natasha, would you-?”

‘Don’t look don’t look don’t look’ was all that ran through Natasha’s mind as she carefully fastened the bra. She ignored the way her fingertips brushed Y/n’s skin, this wasn’t the first time. She was her maid, for gods sake. But Y/n was usually adamant that she could get dressed by herself, so Natasha rarely found herself around her mistress in just her underwear.

With a muttered thank you, Y/n wandered over to the mirror, adjusting the way her boobs sat in the cups before admiring the set. It was perfect for spring, the baby blue mesh and complimenting white and yellow flowers sitting flush against her tanned skin. The way the material hugged her body rivalled that of a custom made piece and Y/n hummed, content with what she saw in the mirror.

“It looks- beautiful,” Natasha faltered, keeping her composure as best she could. “James will love it.”

Y/n chuckled in the mirror, her hair shaking across her back as she laughed. “You really believe I care what he thinks?”

Natasha’s brows creased. Was that not why Y/n had those underwear sets in the first place? The redhead was empathetic but she didn’t have a significant other, there was no time for that. So her judgement was skewed, and it showed.

“I thought-“

“That’s cute.”

Natasha stuttered. “I’m sorry?”

“You,” Y/n locked eyes with her in the mirror. “You’re cute. James doesn’t care about this kind of stuff, it’s all for me, darling.” She adjusted the strap of her bra and didn’t miss the way Natasha’s eyes followed her fingers. “And now you, I suppose?”

“No, I wasn’t-“

Y/n swivelled round, hands on her hips. “I’m teasing you, darling, don’t worry that pretty little head of yours. Frown lines don’t look good on you.” She reached up and softly brushed her thumb between Natasha’s eyebrows, smoothing out the creases that had formed there. The redhead visibly freezed under her touch, the feeling lingering long after her fingers were removed.

“You’re a beautiful girl, Natasha. Who’s the lucky man in your life? Or lady?” Y/n’s eyes shifted, forgetting that she was still in her lingerie set. Natasha breathed out a laugh and darted her gaze to the floor, offering Y/n her robe again.

“I don’t have anyone,” she admitted, missing the look that crossed Y/n’s face. “I spend all my time here, I don’t need anyone.”

“Then I’m honoured to be the lucky lady. And lucky I am.” There was something so alluring about Natasha that Y/n had been hooked on since she laid eyes on her new maid a few months ago. Reserved at first, Natasha was exactly what Y/n needed after years of overbearing and intrusive maids. Natasha was a similar age and felt more like a friend than a maid.

With a confident air about her, Y/n tried on the rest of the lingerie, placing the ones she disliked back in the box with a sigh. Sticking with the blue theme, she slipped on a blue and white sundress, clasped a tennis bracelet around her wrist, slotted her sunglasses into her freshly combed hair and waltzed back onto the balcony. Natasha stayed behind, fumbling with the ribbon around the box before she handed it to the doorman who would organise the return.

The days when James was at work were usually slow and Natasha had some time for herself for a couple of hours whilst Y/n was occupied. Natasha took herself into the city in the late afternoon and ended up in the one store she had never set foot in before.

The lingerie store.

It was a privately owned boutique, of course it was, this neighbourhood didn’t do chain branches, and she quickly walked past the more provocative sets towards the tables at the back. A friendly store worker greeted her but Natasha just kept her head down, politely shaking it when asked if she wanted help.

She was out of her comfort zone, and painfully so, picking up a risky looking set before setting it down a little too quickly. A simple red lace bra caught her eye and she picked it up, only to glance at the price tag and lay it down gently. How could something like that cost so much? Natasha had seen heavier price tags than that of course, she spent her days around Y/n Barnes for god’s sake. But when shopping for herself, everything just seemed too expensive and far too lavish for a plain girl like her.

Natasha was anything but plain, yet she would never see it.

As she looked around the rest of the shop, her mind kept falling back to the red set. It was burned into her mind no matter how many other pieces she saw, and somehow Natasha found herself back at that table again, fingers fumbling over the delicate lace design.

She picked it up, a soft blushing rising to her cheeks at the thought of wearing something so… out there. But the phone in her pocket buzzed and she quickly grabbed it.

Mrs Barnes:

James has set up a date night. I need your help please :)

The red lace set was long forgotten, her mind shifting into work mode in an instant.

Just leaving now. I’ll be there.

When she returned, Natasha headed straight upstairs to find Y/n just leaving the bathroom. Her hair was still dripping and her skin damp, shining in the warm light of her dressing room.

Natasha got to work, drying and styling her hair almost on instinct, having done it so many times. Y/n thoroughly relaxed, adoring the way Natasha felt as she worked through her hair. She softly tugged her roots, but not enough to hurt. Just so it felt like a massage and her eyelids threatened to get heavy.

Date night outfits ranged from lavish to simple, and tonight was a simple night. A little black dress with a deceitful price tag was selected from the closet, a fan favourite of Y/n. She wriggled into the tight material, loving the way it hugged every part of her body as she pulled it up over her chest and slipped the thin straps over her shoulders.

“Where did you go today?” Y/n asked as Natasha zipped up the back of her dress, holding the fabric tight.

“Mostly just window shopping.”

At the mention of shopping, Y/n’s ears pricked up. She wasn’t just making conversation- she was invested. “Did you get anything nice?”

“Not really. Saw a couple of things but-“

“You know you can always take my card if you see something you like,” Y/n insisted, smoothing her hands down the front of her dress to straighten it out. “What store did you visit?”

“It wasn’t anything special.” Y/n shot her an unimpressed look over her shoulder. “I went to the lingerie boutique-“

“No you did not,” Y/n exclaimed, her jaw dropping in excitement as she turned around, clothes long forgotten. “And you didn’t get anything? Oh darling no, we are taking you back there tomorrow and getting you sorted out.”

Natasha moved over to the heels cupboard and selected a classic pair of black patent stilettos. She placed them in front of Y/n for her to slide her feet into, holding onto her hand for support.

“You’ve got that photoshoot tomorrow, so no, we won’t have time.”

Y/n paused, her dangling earring paused in mid air. “And you think they won’t reschedule if I ask them to?” Her brow raised in a ‘try me’ fashion.

“Y/n,” Natasha began to protest. “You don’t need to do that. It’s not like I need anything fancy like you anyway, it’s useless…” she trailed off, a pang in her chest triggering a wave of doubt to shudder down her body. “Vanity Faire won’t be too impressed if you cancel on them again.”

“If they want me, they’re going to have to work around it,” Y/n countered, silencing Natasha as she stalked over, slightly taller than the redhead thanks to her heels. “You are beautiful and you deserve to treat yourself like that. Everyone does, even James and he’s an asshole sometimes. So take this,” she reached into her bra and pulled out her black card, smirking at how Natasha’s brows shot up. “Take this and spoil yourself. I mean it, okay?”

“Thank you ma’am, I’m-“ Y/n almost plucked the card back out of her hand. “Y/n, thank you. You’re too kind to me.”

“Oh stop it, my ego is big enough already.”

The dressing room door flew open to reveal James, narrowed eyes as he stared at the proximity between the two women. Natasha took a couple of steps back but Y/n stayed put, clasping a bracelet around her wrist nonchalantly.

“Y/n, get out here,” he demanded, never one to speak any clearer than he had to. His wife rolled her eyes at Natasha but obeyed, sending her one final look over her shoulder before the door swung shut.

Now they were alone, James grabbed her wrist and shoved her against the wall, towering over her in the only way he knew how to display his power. The power he held over his wife, power that meant he could crush with a single fist if he wanted to.

“James,” Y/n grunted, wincing as his fingers dug into the tender flesh around her wrist. “What is wrong with you?”

“Flirting with the maids now, huh?” He growled, thick brows casting a shadow across his eyes menacingly. “I fire one, you move onto the next, is that how it is?”

“And what if I was?” Y/n baited, not flinching as his body trapped her between the wall and his torso. “Are you threatened? By that cute little thing in there?” She nodded her head in the direction of the dressing room where Natasha was before James gripped her jaw and pulled her face back to his.

“Don’t you dare.” But she did dare. She wasn’t sadistic, but the smile that curled the edge of her lips was downright crazy. But she knew how James was; they fought fire with fire, too stubborn to ever back down.

“Careful, James. Marks, remember?” His grip softened lightly. “Wouldn’t want the paps to spin a story now, would we?”

She saw how he wanted to retaliate, but also knew that she was right. He leaned closer before pulling away, huffing through his nose. “You’re so fucking lucky I love you,” he hissed before he let go of her jaw and allowed her to walk away. His job didn’t help his violent side but James had vowed since day one that he would never harm his wife. Y/n knew it too, and she pushed him to the very edge. Just daring him to.

“Weird way of showing it, but ok,” Y/n mumbled under her breath as she pushed the door closed and took a breath. Natasha averted her eyes, suddenly so busy with a hanger that had been placed backwards. Did she put it there on purpose? That’s not for anyone to know.

She’d seen the strained moments between the husband and wife but often kept her head down, not wanting to fall under James’ wrath. If she was invisible, it was better, but that was easier said than done with Natasha.

Y/n finished clasping her last few pieces of jewellery before accepting her fur shroud from Natasha. The redhead didn’t let on that she had heard every word said next door, but Y/n knew by the way she avoided eye contact that she had.

“You can have the night to yourself, darling,” Y/n winked, checking over her outfit in the mirror beside Natasha. “And you better buy yourself that set.” She gestured to the card in her maid’s pocket, insisting she used it. “I want proof that you did.”

“Thank you, really.”

Y/n blew an air kiss and disappeared to meet James, leaving Natasha once again alone. She felt the weight of the card in her pocket, seeming to grow heavier the more she thought about it. Y/n meant well, but could she really buy something like that with her mistress’ money?

Whilst Natasha debated with herself, Y/n had put on her ‘public’ face. The one that showed she was so madly in love with her husband, clinging onto his bicep as they moved from the car to the restaurant lobby. Paparazzi followed their every move, of course, and James’ bodyguard ushered the couple into the building as fast as he could.

Most celebrities hated the paps with a passion, but James loved them. He loved how much he manipulated them, and they snapped up pictures of the married couple like there was a drought. There was no doubt those pictures would be spattered across gossip sites by tomorrow morning, but that was only more free publicity for him. James Barnes never lost.

However, despite the perfect image they had carefully constructed, more often than not, date nights with James ended alone. He would excuse himself for a phone call just as the food arrived and Y/n could always see him in a private area of the balcony, phone pressed to his ear whilst his other hand pinched the bridge of his nose. Y/n picked at her food in silence, washing every mouthful down with a sip of wine. She ignored the stares and whispers and just played her role to perfection, often sending worried glances out to James.

Tonight she had struck up a harmless conversation with one of the waiters, a young man with a far too eager smile. But she tolerated him for company, politely laughing as he tried to crack an admittedly horrible joke. He was surprisingly good company for the thirty minutes her husband had disappeared for. Although it didn’t help with how sad her situation looked. Y/n was nothing if not flirty, it was in her nature. The way she crossed her legs and looked up through her lashes with a sultry stare had every man, and woman, hooked.

Her siren tendencies didn’t end with her husband, and the waiter hovering by her table was drinking up the attention. It was a big deal for him, one of the hottest women giving up her time to talk to him. He was far too young for her, but Y/n humoured his attempts at flirting, twisting her shoulders so he had a good view from where he was standing. There was a fine line between hot and just plain sleazy, but Y/n would never cross it. She was too good at toying with people.

After a while, James came storming back in, his eyes darkening not only from the outcome of his phone call but also after seeing his wife laughing over another man. His judgement was clouded by anger and he grabbed his jacket, not even bothering to take a bite of his now-cold food. Y/n jumped at his sudden movements but smiled sweetly, thanking the waiter who had stiffened.

“Let’s go,” James growled, throwing down a wad of cash as a tip before storming towards the elevator. Y/n took a moment to gather her things before scurrying after him, her red bottomed shoes clicking loudly against the pristine floor.

“Is everything ok?” She dared to ask once the doors had closed. James looked up briefly, eyed the security camera and clenched his jaw, the muscles in his neck shifting too.

“I work with imbeciles,” he grunted, his hand undoing the top button of his shirt in one fluid motion. “How was the food?”

“It was good,” Y/n stated, slightly wishing she could have finished her glass of wine.

“Good? I pay all this money and that’s the best you can do?” Bad phone calls always sent him into this mood, but Y/n had been with him long enough to know how to tame the tiger.

She stepped in front of him and ran her hands up the front of his sculpted chest, brushing over the muscle and up towards his shoulders. “It would have been better if you were there,” she spoke lowly, her hand sliding up to brush the stubble on his jaw.

James slid his hands around her waist possessively, pulling her flush against him. Anyone could walk in, the elevator wasn’t private, but they wouldn’t dare say anything to James Barnes. No one who confronted him ever walked away unharmed.

“Yeah? Even though you had your new little boy toy?” Oh he was jealous and Y/n had to tense every muscle in her body so she didn’t laugh. “I saw you.”

“You really think he had anything on you?” She asked sweetly, playing him just the way she knew. “I was just bored, baby, I missed you.”

“Damn right. I hope that fuckboy knows you’re mine, and mine only.”

“I’m yours, James, I’m yours.”

She was James’, so why did her mind drift to Natasha for a fleeting moment as she said it?

~~~

Y/n had dismissed Natasha for the night earlier than normal, letting her have the evening to herself before they went out. And she praised herself now, knowing James’ rage was just bottled up and sooner or later it would come out. She didn’t want her meek little redhead to have to see that.

And she was right. Whatever James had been feeling, he held it in until they were both nearly ready for bed. Y/n slid her rings off and placed them in the dish on her nightstand, each one clinking against the porcelain as she dropped it.

“What did you talk to him about?”

Y/n paused her movements for a second. “You’re still going on about that? I told you, it was just harmless conversation.”

“It didn’t look harmless, the way you were looking at him.”

Y/n was quite literally at the end of her tether with his accusations. “And how was that? How did I look at him?”

James rounded the bed, the single chain resting on his bare chest catching in the lamplight. “Like a slut.” His eye twitched, a sign he was pissed. “How do you think that looks for me? I step away for two seconds and my wife is whoring herself out to anyone she can find.”

“I find it laughable that you think you were away for two seconds,” she countered, stepping to the side to free herself from where he’d boxed her in. “May I remind you that I had finished my meal long before you even stepped foot back inside. He just came to talk to me and I engaged with the conversation, is that so bad?”

“Don’t use that tone with me,” James spat, his eyes following her figure as she paced around the room. “You shouldn’t-“

“Shouldn’t what? Shouldn’t talk? That’s what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it? A quiet little wife who only speaks when she’s spoken to and follows you around like a lost puppy.” James set his jaw, hands clenching by his sides. But Y/n carried on, spurred on by his accusations. “Well that’s not me James, and you know that!”

She paused and ran her fingers through her hair, exasperated. “How do you think it looks on you? You bring your wife out on a date but then can’t switch off from work for two minutes to actually enjoy your time with her! I’m saving your ass here, so be fucking grateful!”

That last sentence pushed him over the edge and James stormed over to her like a bull, backing her into a corner. “Grateful? Why should I be grateful? You’re a slut and-“

“Then treat me better and maybe I wouldn’t have to stray so far!”

James’ hand had connected with her cheek faster than either of them had time to process, his rings cutting into her skin painfully. They both froze. Y/n’s breath caught in her throat, the sting of the slap blooming across her cheekbone. James was breathing hard, his hand still raised from the recoil.

An apology would come… wouldn’t it? It had to, he didn’t mean that. Y/n couldn’t move, it was like the air had been sucked out of the room. Her stomach lurched, just urging James to say something. Anything.

A whole host of scenarios of how the next few moments might play out raced through Y/n’s mind, but she didn’t foresee her husband walking out without a word, a button up shirt in his hand.

She watched the door click shut before she sank to the floor, legs buckling beneath her. She didn’t want to cry, he wasn’t worth that, yet the tears still fell, dripping down into the carpet that pressed into her knees. It wasn’t from the pain, but from how stupid she felt.

Why was she still pretending? She played off everything he said to her, claiming it didn’t hurt when in reality it cut deep like a knife. Beneath her defences, she just wanted someone to care and not just because she was pretty. She wanted the slow mornings, the affection that wasn’t just for show. The ‘hey how was your day’ that wasn’t just one sided. But Y/n had sacrificed all of that the day she married James, naive enough to think he’d warm up over time.

The house felt eerily quiet and the blanket of night settled across every room. Ignoring how the clock chimed two, Y/n hauled herself up off the floor and trudged down to the kitchen, barely noticing the icy floor on her bare feet.

The freezer must hold ice packs or something similar, anything to stop bruising and swelling that always leads to questions. Y/n didn’t even bother to check if anyone was around before she pulled the door open and rummaged around, falling upon a bag of frozen peas. Not ideal, but it would do.

Except for the hum of appliances, the kitchen was silent and shadows appeared as the dim fridge light cast a small pool around her. No one was here at this hour, so Y/n dropped her guard and slumped her shoulders, leaning against the side of the fridge with exhaustion.

But she wasn’t alone.

A certain redhead had frozen in place, her spoonful of ice cream hovering somewhere between the pint and her mouth. Natasha was a midnight snacker and her feasts were usually undisturbed, but the sound of footsteps had her retreating into a corner.

It was only when she saw that familiar curtain of hair did she emerge, slowly, as if approaching a small animal, to not scare her off.

“Y/n?” Natasha emerged from the shadows, spoon still in her hand. Y/n did a double take but kept her face turned away, forcing her guard up in a split second.

But it was too slow for Natasha. She saw the vulnerability

“What are you doing down here?”

“I came to get a snack,” she replied with as much conviction as a toddler. Green eyes fell to the bag of peas… interesting snack choice.

“Why didn’t you call for me? I would have come myself.”

“It’s the middle of the night, Natasha.”

“Which is exactly my point, why aren’t you asleep-“

Y/n suddenly emerged from the corner and allowed the fridge light to hit her cheek. Natasha recoiled with a gasp, blinking quickly to wake her brain up. Was she hallucinating or was that what she thought it was? Y/n’s eyes were heavy and looked at the floor, too ashamed to watch Natasha’s reaction

“Did he…?”

The lack of response that followed was louder than a thousand words and Natasha felt her blood boil. She would happily be put away for battery if it meant she could get her hands on James, but she had more pressing matters to attend to.

Abandoning her spoon on the metal table with a clatter, Natasha hurried over and prised the bag of vegetables from Y/n’s hand. She wrapped them in a towel and gently pressed them to her cheek, muttering an apology as her mistress winced.

“What happened?”

Y/n chewed her lip, still avoiding eye contact. “Nothing. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Natasha nodded. “Ok,” she replied, respecting her wishes. You couldn’t push with Y/n, she had to come to you. “Here, sit up on there.” She helped Y/n hop onto the counter and her body instantly relaxed.

A comfortable silence fell between them both, somehow not affected by Y/n’s reluctance to talk. They never needed words, that’s what Y/n liked about Natasha so much. She was a comforting presence, and Y/n felt so at home around her.

With their faces so close, Y/n felt her chest warming at things she’d never noticed before. There were flecks of brown in Natasha’s clear green eyes, almost mirroring the freckles that danced faintly across her nose. The frown lines she had wiped away earlier were back and Y/n fought the urge to brush them away again.

After ten minutes, Natasha set the ice pack down on the side and helped Y/n down, the stone now digging into her butt uncomfortably. “Just let it rest for a bit before you ice it again. You don’t want to damage the skin.”

Y/n nodded, her face already numb. Their proximity was close but neither made an attempt to move. Natasha couldn’t keep her eyes off how red her cheek looked and Y/n desperately needed something to shut up the voices in her head.

Her eyes dropped down to Natasha’s lips, wanting to cry with how soft they looked. How gentle they’d feel on her skin, a stark contrast to the rough lips she was used to feeling dragging across her collarbones and neck. Natasha was soft and Y/n felt herself craving it.

“No, Y/n no.” Lost in her head, she’d failed to notice Natasha catching on, almost reading her mind. And as much as the redhead would love to reciprocate, it was inappropriate and not just because of her job.

Y/n leaned forwards, eyes glossy. “Please, Natasha-“

“You’re hurting, I won’t-“ Natasha shook her head, taking Y/n’s trembling hand in her own. She could make a pretty educated guess as to what had happened and did not want to be a part of Y/n’s inevitable. She pushed her own feelings down, stuffing them in a box and cramming the lid on tight.

But Y/n never made her life easy. She gripped Natasha’s hand, pulling it into her. “Please?”

“No, we can’t, you know that. And you’re my boss, Y/n-“

“Nat, I- I want you. I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.”

The redhead faltered, watching the way her mistress’s chest heaved. Her head screamed at her to stop; it was so wrong. She couldn’t avoid the way her cheek burned red in the dim light, a stark contrast to the rest of her pale face. Never had she seen this much vulnerability in the woman who was full of wit and confidence.

The strength she was so used to seeing had completely disappeared and Y/n peered at her with tears on her waterline, her facade crumbling away with every second that ticked by.

Those seconds felt like an eternity before Natasha slowly reached her hand up.

But it was too soon.

Y/n flinched away, a tear escaping as she let out a whimper. Natasha quickly retreated her hand and let the woman before her turn back, not wanting to push her in any way.

“You’re safe,” Natasha whispered. Y/n’s eyes searched hers, trying to find any sign of a lie. But she came up empty. With a trembling hand, she reached for Natasha’s palm and allowed it to cup her other cheek. The touch was soft, warm, and everything she wasn’t used to. Even on instinct, Y/n couldn’t help but lean into it, eyelids fluttering closed for a split second before she forced them open.

“I’ve got you.”

Y/n glanced at Natasha’s lips and back up to her eyes. She needed to feel that warmth, she needed to kiss lips that didn’t curse her all day long.

“Natasha…”

The redhead couldn’t stop herself anymore and let Y/n lean forwards, connecting their lips in the most gentle kiss. Y/n tasted the sweet dessert on her lips as they moved against each other slowly, the hand on her cheek moving around to the back of her neck to hold her in place.

“Did you have ice cream?” Y/n mumbled against her lips, goosebumps lighting up her skin at Natasha’s touch.

“Maybe.”

The kiss wasn’t anything frantic or passionate, it couldn’t be. It was so featherlight that their lips barely touched, but the way Natasha’s blood felt like it was on fire was enough to convince her that they did touch. She let Y/n lead, moving their lips in tandem and fiddling with the baby hairs at the nape of her neck.

Y/n pulled away, a soft smile on her slightly swollen lips setting Natasha’s heart a flutter. The ache in her cheek was hardly noticeable in that moment; she was too fixated on the redhead in front of her.

She leaned in again, chasing that high she wasn’t ready to come down from yet. But Natasha gently pushed her back, shaking her head softly.

“Y/n, we can’t. We shouldn’t be doing this, you know that.” Y/n’s coping mechanisms were unhealthy to say the least, and as much as it pained her, Natasha couldn’t support that. Clarity had hit her like a ton of bricks and guilt settled in the bottom of her stomach, leaving a nasty taste in her mouth.

What were they doing?

Natasha’s heart shattered as she watched Y/n retreat into herself, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth slightly. Her eyes were glossy but the tears refused to spill over. Every muscle in her body was rigid, almost as if she was scared that if she moved, the dam would break and everything would come flooding out. Y/n may be good at a lot of things, but emotional confrontation was not one of those things.

“I know, I’m sorry.” She lingered for a moment, just willing Natasha to speak, to take back her words. Maybe if she closed her eyes, those lips would be on hers again. Their Midas touch, concealing the ache in her heart for a few fleeting moments was all she wanted.

But when Natasha stayed silent, Y/n turned and left, leaving the makeshift ice pack abandoned on the side. She couldn’t stay and let herself fall apart anymore. Her heart had broken twice that night, but why did it hurt so much worse now? Why did Natasha, her maid, have a stronger grip on it than her husband?

[the-fiction-witch]

I Am Your Wife

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Aegon Targaryen Couple - Aegon X Reader + (Mentioned) Jacaerys X Reader Reader - Y/n Targaryen (Aegons Wife) Rating - Sad + Sweet Word Count - 6875

Y/n marched inside the royal chambers, she soon saw Aegon lying in the bed half drunk still from last night, she stood at the foot of their bed in her emerald gown, her arms crossed as she waited for him to speak,

Aegon recognised that look on her face immediately as it was a look she had very often,

He rubs his eyes with a hand, then tries to comb his fingers through his messy hair to look somewhat presentable, rather than the unkempt bird’s nest it had become after last night’s activities. “What is it?” He mumbles, voice still thick with sleep.

"where were you?"

Aegon sighs deeply, knowing exactly what this is about. He runs a hand along his jaw, scratching over the skin. He had hoped to wake up earlier than her to avoid this whole dance, “Do you really want me to answer that?” He deadpans.

"Aegon you were supposed to be back to tuck Marcus into bed"

Damnit. Aegon grits his fangs together at the reminder, having hoped at least one of those responsibilities had been forgotten about. “I lost track of time, alright?” He mutters, avoiding her gaze and staring at the bedsheets instead.

"you could have at least apologized to your son at breakfast for not putting him to bed like you’d promised"

Guilt flares in his chest at that; he knew this was just as much about Marcus as it was about him. “I’m sorry.” He manages to get out, voice still hoarse from sleep. Aegon glances up at her, meeting her eyes and searching her face to gauge her reaction.

"well sorry doesn't make him sleep, he was up all night waiting for daddy to come and tuck him in and he's been crying since sunrise"

Damnit. Aegon groans, frustration and guilt battling in his chest. He knew that was what she’d say, that she’d use it against him. He should have come home last night, he should have tucked Marcus in and stayed the night in his own damn bed. He rubs his hand across his face, sighing again. “I’ll go and apologise now, how’s that?” He mutters.

"no. You won't disturb him. He’s gone for a hot bath and the maids are taking him to the dragon pit so he can spend time with his dragon"

Aegon deflates completely at that, guilt and disappointment coursing through him, his head hanging slightly as he lets his chin rest on his hand. “Right.” He mutters quietly in response. He knows a reprimand is coming from her, and he knows it’s fully warranted. It doesn’t stop the pang of irritation though, and the words are out of his mouth before he can stop them. “I have one damn night off, and that makes me a horrible father?”

"one night off? You do this constantly and have been for months"

Aegon tries to keep his expression stoic as her berates him, doing his best to not look like a wounded and scolded puppy.“It’s not-” He began to say, then stopped himself with a shake of his head. No, there was no point in making excuses or attempting to justify himself. “It’s just been a busy month.” He sighed instead. “We have a lot going on and I-” He cuts himself off again with a frustrated groan. Damnit, he wanted a fight, but he knew her were completely, utterly right with his one.

she sighed and turned to leave

Aegon sits and watches her go, feeling like an idiot. “Wait!” He calls out, wincing at how pleading he sounded. He swings his legs over the side of the bed, and stands up and goes after her, catching her wrist before she can stride out of the bedroom doors. A hint of vulnerability crosses his features as he gently pulls her to a stop, forcing her to face him. “Wait.” He repeats in a low murmur, his hand still holding firmly to her wrist. He takes a step closer, closing the distance between her. “Don’t go.”

"There's no point arguing with her Aegon. It doesn't fix anything. If you want to spend your nights drinking and whoring, then don't make promises to your children" she said pointedly but it was clear she was exhausted by arguing with him "or me." She adds before leaving

Aegon watches her leave, feeling utterly defeated. It was true, he’d broken more promises than he could count, but it hurt seeing the disappointment on herr face, and the resignation in herr voice when her gave up arguing with him. But more than that, it hurt that Marcus had been crying the entire morning, waiting for him, his father, to come home and tuck him in. He was a shitty father, he knew that, but it hurt knowing that everyone else realised it too. Damnit. Aegon lets out a frustrated huff, resisting the childish urge to kick the bed frame. He glances between the door her left through, and the bed he had been so comfortable in just moments ago. He knows he could just go back to sleep. It would be so much easier than having to deal with the aftermath of the night before. But he can still feel her wrist in his fingers, and hear the resignation in her voice when she spoke of him breaking promises. With a resigned huff, Aegon grabs his clothes from the floor and shrugs them on.

It doesn’t take long for him to reach the dragon pit, walking through his usual route without pausing to greet the guards or nod to the courtiers he passes by. The guilt still gnaws at his chest with every step he takes, but he tries his best to ignore it. He just wants to apologise to Marcus, and hopefully stop him crying. He finds his son in the dragon pits, as she said he would be. He smiles slightly seeing Marcus, now dressed in riding leathers, standing by Sunfyre looking up at his golden scales.

Marcus was always fascinated with Sunfyre, Marcus loved Sunfyre perhaps even more than he loved his own little dragon Silvercloud. Marcus let tears slip looking at Sunfyre.

Aegon couldn’t help but let out a deep sigh of disappointment at the sight of the tears on his son’s face. It hurt more than anything seeing his son so upset, and knowing it was his fault. He hated the fact that there was no one to blame but himself. His smile fell at the realisation of how his young son looked at his dragon. It stung, knowing that Sunfyre had a better relationship with Marcus, than Aegon had with his own son. Aegon forced himself to walk closer. He stopped a few feet away from Marcus, not wanting to come any closer and startle him. His gaze flicked over the boy, checking for any signs of injury, although something told him he wasn’t crying because of anything physical. With a deep breath Aegon called out, his voice quiet but firm. “Marcus?”

"good day" he sighed moving to pet his own small dragon SilverCloud still too young for him to ride after the dragon had hatched him Marcus's cradle

Aegon flinched at the words, and at the complete indifference in Marcus’s voice. When the boy failed to turn to look at him, Aegon felt a pang of guilt stab through his chest. His shoulders slumped slightly, trying desperately to ignore the hurt he felt from his son’s cold response, especially after the entire morning he had. Aegon cleared his throat, shoving his hands in his pockets and walking closer to Marcus. “Can I talk to you?”

the boy shrugged Petting his small dragon

Aegon took a deep breath. This was all so goddamn uncomfortable. It was rare that he got this nervous talking to anyone, let alone his own son. He cleared his throat awkwardly again, trying to figure out what exactly he should say. “I just- uh- I-” Goddamn it. Why was this so hard? Aegon forced the words out through his teeth. “I just wanted to uh… apologise. For not being there last night.”

"your never here."

The words stabbed through Aegon, more painful than any physical wound. Because it was true. He’d broken another promise to his son, yet again. Damnit. He knew this would be hard, that it would be difficult to have to admit his fault. But actually hearing the words from his son hurt more than expected. Aegon swallowed, trying desperately to keep his expression passive. “I know.” He managed to mutter out. “I’ve messed up a lot, and I keep messing up. I’m… I’m sorry.”

"you always say that! And then you never do what you say you're gonna do! It's not fair! Not fair to me. Or on Marybelle. Or mother." The boy shouted, "... Words don't mean anything, actions do." The boy said before taking his dragon back into its cave "I hope things are better... For baby" Marcus said which froze Aegon to the core as he heard no word about babies

Aegon was stunned into silence, his throat tightening so badly that he thought it might snap. Aegon couldn’t hear anything else over the rushing of blood in his ears. Baby. No. Please gods no. With unsteady, shaking hands, Aegon took a step forward, eyes wide in panic. “What… what baby?”

"Mother is having another baby..." Marcus answered

Seven hells no. Please no. Aegon almost stopped breathing altogether in that moment. Another baby? He took another shaky step forward, trying to quell the panic rising within him. “But- how do you know- you’re sure?” He managed to croak out.

"she told me and Marybelle were getting another brother or sister"

Aegon’s insides twisted themselves into a knot, his eyes wide and breathing shallow. Not again. The thought of another child, another baby. It wasn’t even the child itself he was afraid of. It was everything else. Aegon stared at his son, eyes boring into him, desperately hoping that it was some elaborate prank. “you’re sure?” He repeated. Tell me this is a lie.

"she told us both, and she's having a new crib made." Marcus nodded before he took his dragon away

It took everything in Aegon’s power not to collapse at those words. He stared at the cave that Marcus had just retreated into, trying desperately to keep his breathing steady and his mind straight. He’d just discovered that she was having another child. Another child that he’d probably fail to be a good father to. Aegon stumbled slightly out of the cave and towards a nearby wall, leaning against it for support as he forced his mind to focus. He stood against the wall, hands clenched into fists and breathing deep. Aegon could feel the panic and dread flooding through his mind, drowning out any logical thought. No. No. This time would be different. He’d promised himself so many times before that things would be different with Marcus. But it hadn’t worked before. He couldn’t even keep a goddamn promise with Marcus, and now there was a new one on the way. A new little baby that he’d likely fail to provide for. A wave of nausea crashed over Aegon, making him clutch at his stomach in an attempt to keep it down. He couldn’t go through this again. This time he’d have three children to look after, he didn’t have the energy or time to keep failing as a father. Aegon took another shaky breath, pushing away from the wall and attempting to remain upright.

He needed to talk to her.

He needed to know everything. He needed her to tell him every word she had said to the kids, every detail about this new baby.

Aegon headed back to the red keep, As he entered the library and found Y/n and Marybelle working on the embroideries, a fresh wave of panic and nausea coursed through his body. He swallowed, hoping that neither of her could see the turmoil that was raging within him. He cleared his throat, trying to keep his voice steady. “Can we… can we talk?”

"go on?" Y/n shrugged as she helped Marybelle work

Aegon hesitated, he felt oddly like a child about to confess to breaking something. With a sharp breath in he forced himself to speak. “It’s about the baby.” He said, the words feeling like lead in his mouth.

Y/n looks up at him and sighed, she did a final stitch placing the work on the table and lifting little Marybelle off the seat in her pale green dress "Run along now sweetling, go find your brother and go play in the garden Alright" she told Marybelle who happily ran off with her maids shutting the door behind them, Y/n sighed and ran a hand over her stomach "Go on Aegon."

Aegon watched as Marybelle left the room, leaving the two of them in silence. He forced his eyes back on her, staring at the hand she had placed on her stomach. His mind was racing, his heart was racing, his stomach was in knots. He wanted desperately to look away, so that he didn’t have to confront the baby that was inside her. “How… how far along are you?”

"four months"

Aegon felt his stomach twist once more at her answer, this time so violently that he was worried he might actually throw up. He took another deep shaking breath, trying desperately to calm his mind enough to figure out what to say. There were too many thoughts racing through him; anger, fear, dread, guilt. “Why?” He whispered, the word coming out more like a gasp than a question. “After everything… after the other two… why?”

"what I do with my children is my business"

Aegon bristled at her response, he didn’t like hearing those words. her children. Like he had no claim to them. He took a step closer, his hand clenching into a tight fist at his side. His eyes bore into hers, and the fear was evident in his gaze. “They’re my children too.” He muttered lowly. “I have every right to know.”

"well you know now don't you,'

Aegon felt his blood boil at her nonchalant attitude and sharp words, his fear slowly being overtaken with irritation and frustration as the two of her stared each other down. “Yes I know now! Because Marcus told me!” Aegon snapped, gesturing back at the door. “Why was I the last to know?!”

"Because your never here! You never ask! You never ask how I am, or talk to your children, or talk to me."

Aegon hated when she was right, although he would never admit that aloud. Her words stung, hitting him in a way that he wasn’t expecting. He’d only just begun to feel the weight of his absence, and now her were shoving it in his face. “I- I-“ he sputtered, trying to force the right words out. “That’s not the point. You should have told me.”

"Why would I? her have no interest in the children" she snapped "I am having another child because they make me happy. They are all I have in this world as you show me no attention or affection at all, they are all I have and without them, I would be sat alone waiting for you to wonder home drunk"

Aegon’s face fell at her words, his mind going blank as he heard her say that, It hurt worse than a punch to the gut, and made him feel a thousand times more guilty than he did before. He opened his mouth several times to say something, but each time his words got stuck in his throat and he shut his mouth with an audible click. Finally, he managed to croak out. “You… you have me.”

"do I?" She asked a tear slipping from her eyes "My husband prefers whores to his marriage bed, my husband drinks a barrel of wine a day, I never see him, we never speak, we only ever argue over his failed promises to our children”

Aegon fell speechless as he saw the tear slip from her eyes. He’d seen her cry before, of course, but never like this. This wasn’t over anger or frustration. This was pain, real pain. He wanted to go to her, to wrap his arms around her and pull her close in an attempt to fix everything. But he couldn’t bring himself to move, or even look her in the eye. Because everything she said was true. And he hated himself for it all. “I…” he muttered, trying once again to force words out of his throat. “I don’t know what to say.”

How could he defend himself against the truth? He did drink too much, he had spent more nights in brothels than he would care to count. He did fail to keep his promises to her and the children. Everything she said was completely true, and no amount of excuses could cover it up.

"you never do" she answered wiping her tears "you need not worry yourself over this baby, not like you'll care when it's born anyway"

Aegon flinched at the last part of her sentence. She was completely right. He had failed to be there for the birth of Marcus and of Marybelle, and he had failed to provide for them in the way that they deserved. And now there was another coming. Another child to make him feel even more guilty, and another child that he would fail to take care of. It was a vicious cycle that he didn’t know how to break. “That- that’s not true.” He protested weakly. “That’s not- I would care.” He muttered though he himself didn’t really believe it. There was something about seeing her there in front of him, a tear making a track down her face. Something about knowing that there was a baby inside of her, It made him feel sick to his stomach to think of how he was going to fail this baby too.

she shook her head "You need not worry over it."

“Stop saying that.” Aegon snapped, irritation bleeding into his voice. her kept telling him not to worry, telling him that everything was fine. “I can’t just not worry! There’s a baby… there’s our baby… and you keep telling me not to worry, like I don’t have to, and like everything is fine.”

"it's not your baby!"

“Excuse me?!” What did you just say? Aegon stared at her, shock and anger written all over his face. “Not my baby?” He repeated. “It’s a child that we created. It was my seed that started this child’s life. How is it, not my baby?!”

"It wasn't your seed. Aegon you haven't touched me since Marybelle was born, too busy with the whores to spend a night with your wife"

Aegon was silent after that. He couldn’t argue against it. her were once again completely right. He hadn’t touched her since before Marybelle’s birth, he could have sworn one or two nights he had made it to his marriage bed before unloading his seed and passing out but even of that he wasn’t sure, and he hadn’t given a second thought to her or how she felt about it. He’d been too focussed on the whores, the wine, his own needs. Shame and self-disgust washed over him, and he found that he couldn’t look at her for a moment. “That…” he began, trailing off as his voice grew hoarse. A wave of shame crashed over Aegon, making his stomach twist with guilt and nausea. He swallowed, his eyes dropping to the floor.

"Aegon. You are not the father of the child inside me. You haven't touched me. I know this child is not yours"

It was like a dagger through the heart. her said it so casually as if it was just a simple fact. But he heard the pain in her voice, the hurt that he’d caused by not being there for her. And he could see the truth in her eyes. He opened his mouth to argue, to defend himself and say that the child was still his. But a sick feeling of dread was already pooling in his gut as he realized the truth. He wasn’t the father of this baby. He’d made sure of that himself. Aegon’s throat felt like it was closing up again, leaving him staring at the ground, his chest heaving as he tried to keep his breathing steady. He felt weak. He felt sick. He felt guilty. “You… you slept with someone else?” He managed to force out the words, his voice low and shaking.

"you were gone. You never touched me. If you can take your nights sharing beds with a hundred common whores... I see no reason I cannot find a company of my own”

Aegon stiffened at her words, his heart twisting painfully in his chest. He was a hypocrite. How many whores had he slept with while he’d been away? More than he cared to count. And yet here he was, getting upset over her having found someone else. He didn’t know how to respond. He felt nauseous and his mouth had gone dry, but he tried to speak anyway. “Who… who was it?”

"... I ... I don't wish to tell,"

Aegon clenched his jaw at her response, irritation and anger bubbling up within him. “Why not?!” He snapped. “you just told me that the baby isn’t mine, that you’ve been with someone else. And now you’re refusing to tell me who it was?”

"what does it matter? Are you going to sit and tell me the names of every whore you've been with? Tell me each name of every bastard down silk row you've fathered? So why should I tell you"

“Because-” Aegon stopped short, his response dying on his tongue. He wanted to deny it, to insist that it did matter to him. But deep down he knew she were right. He had no right to ask her to tell him who she found comfort in. Not when he himself had bedded countless whores over the past years. His shoulders slumped in defeat, and he swallowed thickly as he tried to figure out what to say. “Because…” he began again, his voice low and shaky. “I don’t care about the whores. I would never care about them.” He took a deep breath, forcing the words out of his mouth. “Because… this is different. Because this one is different, because I… I…” He trailed off, his voice trembling as tears formed in his eyes. He’d never seen the situation from her perspective before. He’d failed her completely, and left her alone while he went off to whorehouses.

she sighed and stroked her stomach "... Jacaerys. Jacaerys Velaryon."

Aegon froze, his eyes going wide with shock. Jacaerys Velaryon.

Of all people, it had to be him. He felt his hands shaking, and his stomach threatened to upheave. He knew Jacaerys had been spending a lot of time with her, but he had just assumed it was his imagination. “Jacaerys?” He repeated, his voice a whisper. “you… you slept with… him?”

"... He was my betrothal once. Before you and I were married, Jacaerys and I were betrothed. You ignore me these days and his bride prefers the company of women... We find comfort in each other"

Aegon felt like he was going to be sick. He knew that she and Jacaerys had been betrothed. Everyone knew that. But he hadn’t considered the possibility that she would turn to him for comfort. The thought of the two of them together made his stomach churn. He couldn’t stand the thought of another man touching her, holding her, looking at her with desire in their eyes. “you’re… you’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

"how I feel about him is irrelevant. I am your wife. I am your bride. I will do my duty as long as I live. But I will find my comfort as you find yours.”

Aegon felt his heart shatter in his chest as she spoke. She was his bride, his wife, and the mother of his children. But she did not love him, not anymore. She loved Jacaerys. “Why him?” He rasped. “Why not anyone else?”

"We find comfort together, we each have a partner who doesn't care for our needs and desires. And he's always been so sweet to the children"

Aegon clenched his jaw at her words. He didn't want to hear about how Jacaerys was, how sweet and caring and loving he was. Jacaerys was everything that Aegon wasn't. He was thoughtful, he was sweet, he was kind. He didn't spend his days in brothels or drunk in taverns. Aegon wanted to say he would change, he wanted to try and make things better between the two of her. But would she even believe him anymore? Or would she run back into Jacaerys' arms the first chance she got? “Do you…” Aegon began, his voice a whisper. “Do you love him?”

He didn’t want to hear the answer. He hoped that she would say no. That she would say she didn’t love Jacaerys, and that she only found comfort in the idea of being with someone who actually cared about her. But deep down, he knew that wasn’t it. He knew she loved Jacaerys, more than she had ever loved Aegon. And the thought of that made him want to die.

"... I am your wife." She repeated,

Aegon hated that answer. It wasn’t a yes or a no. her weren’t denying it, but weren’t confirming it either. He had always prided himself on the fact that he could tell when people were lying to him, but right now she was unreadable. He gritted his teeth, his hands clenching into fists. “That’s not an answer.” He growled.

"I am your wife. And I'm here. If I didn't love you don't her think I'd have packed my things, taken the children and flown to Dragonstone to be with Jacaerys!" She shouted "But no. I am here. I am your wife. Mother to your children, your heirs. I stay. Because I love you. I have remained through the humiliation of your behaviour because I love you. I have sat here knowing there are bastards throughout this city any of which have a claim over my true-born children if you so much as legitimised them." She explained through gritted teeth "I am here because I love you. I have endured all of it because I love you."

Aegon’s face fell further as she spoke. She stayed by his side the entire way. Despite the whores, despite the bastards, her were still his wife and she’d stayed. He felt small and shamed under her gaze. her had done everything for him, she had loved him, and he hadn’t done the same for her. “Then… then why did you sleep with Jacaerys?” He mumbled, the words feeling like ash in his mouth. “If… if you love me…”

"as I said. We give each other comfort. No different from the comfort you find with your whores"

Aegon flinched at her words. He wanted to deny it, he wanted to say it wasn’t the same at all. But he knew He had no excuse, no justification for why it was different when he went to whores. His shoulders slumped and he looked at the floor, avoiding her gaze. “It’s not the same.” He mumbled weakly.

"how is it not the same? The only difference is that he doesn't throw me a gold coin when we're done"

Aegon winced. That was so much more different than he had expected. His jaw clenched and he clenched his fists, irritation sparking through him at her words. “It’s… it’s different because they’re whores.” He muttered. “They’re whores. Not… not…”

He trailed off, unable to find the words to defend himself. She was the mother of his children, his wife. His queen. Compared to them, the whores were nothing.

"not what?"

Aegon didn’t respond. He wanted to say that they meant nothing to him, that the whores were just a means to an end, just a way for him to forget his troubles for a few hours. But he knew that wasn’t true. The whores were his vices, his weakness and he’d let them take over his life. “They’re… they don’t mean anything to me.” He tried weakly. “They’re just whores, that’s it.”

"and jockeys mean nothing to me. I love you, I am your wife. We simply find comfort together when we cannot get it from our marriages"

Aegon took a deep breath and closed his eyes, her words washing over him. It was a bitter pill to swallow. He didn’t want to hear her talk about Jacaerys that way. He didn’t want to think about her spending her nights with him, finding comfort in his arms. Not when she should have been finding that comfort in his arms. “And… and is that all it is? Just… comfort?” He asked lowly, barely keeping a hint of anger from his voice.

"that is all it is. And if you had given me such comfort I would not need to see him at all"

Gods damn it. Aegon wanted to argue. He wanted to insist that he would have given her that comfort if she’d just asked him. But he knew that wasn’t true. He knew that they’d barely spoken to each other in over years, never mind sharing any sort of intimate moment. He swallowed nervously and looked down at the ground. “And if… if I started trying to give you that comfort?”

"then I would have no need to visit him"

Aegon felt a small flicker of hope at those words. If he tried, if he made an effort, then maybe she would see that she didn’t need Jacaerys in her life. That she didn’t need to cheat on him and break their marital vows. He took a shaky breath and swallowed thickly, looking up at her. “…and you would stop seeing him, then?”

"I would if you did provide the comfort you are promising... However, you have broken many promises before so... Don't assume I would trust you. And if you were to not seek comfort in your whores. Perhaps you'd have the time for your wife"

Aegon felt stung by the last part of her comment. He wanted to flinch at the thought that she didn’t trust him to give her what she needed. But why should she? He hadn’t exactly given her a reason to trust him in the past. He sighed and nodded. “I…” he began, his throat dry. “I won’t go to whores anymore. I promise.”

"words don't mean anything. Actions do" She said the same words Marcus had said to him, showing where the boy had gotten such a phrase

Aegon felt his jaw clenched at her response. He could promise and vow over and over that he would stop seeing whores, but it didn’t mean anything until he actually did it. He took a deep breath, the thought of going without a whore for that long made him shiver. But he was determined to prove to her that he meant what he said. He nodded again, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “you’re right.” He mumbled. “I… I’ll do it. No whores.”

"and so long as her see no whores I shall not see Jacaerys. At least not intimately, I may have to see him socially"

Aegon’s expression soured as she spoke. He didn’t want her seeing Jacaerys at all, no matter how “socially” it was. But he knew he didn’t have a choice in the matter. He had agreed to stop seeing whores, and she had agreed to stop being intimate with Jacaerys. He couldn’t afford to jeopardize that. He nodded again, forcing the words past his lips. “Fine. But I don’t… I don’t want her alone with him.”

"I promise I won't be alone with him, I shall only see him if social events call for it"

Aegon felt some of the tension leave his shoulders at her words. He still didn’t like the idea of her spending time with Jacaerys, social or otherwise. But as long as she promised her wouldn’t be alone with him, he could deal with it. “Fine. That’s… that’s good enough for me.”

He mumbled. “I won’t go to whores, and she won’t be alone with Jacaerys. That’s the deal.”

she nodded

Aegon clenched his fists, his knuckles going white as he tried to maintain his composure. He didn’t really want to have this conversation. The thought of discussing the child her were carrying, Jacaerys’ child, made him feel like he wanted to be sick. But he knew it was a conversation that needed to be had. “What… what do you want to do about it?” He asked, forcing the words past his dry mouth.

she shivered her hands stroking her bump "I would like to keep it, I understand if he must be treated differently, as a bastard, sent away when he's older. But I would like to keep him... unless you want me to.... rid... myself."

Aegon clenched his jaw, his eyes fixed firmly on the ground. He didn’t want the child. The thought of seeing this bastard every day, a reminder of her time with Jacaerys, was more than he could handle.

But he knew he couldn’t demand she rid herself of it. He couldn’t force her to terminate the pregnancy if she didn’t want to. He sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. “Keep it, then.” He mumbled. “Raise it how you like, it’s yours.”

"Aegon, I don't want to keep it... if he will have a hellish life. if you will hate him."

Aegon shifted uncomfortably at her words. A part of him wanted to insist that he would try to love the boy. That it wasn’t the child’s fault they were a bastard, and he wouldn’t hold it against them. But another part of him knew that it wouldn’t matter. Every time he looked at the kid, he wouldn’t see anything except a reminder that she had cheated on him. He swallowed and shook his head. “I don’t think… I don’t think I’ll be able to love the child.” He mumbled quietly.

"Never?"

Aegon clenched his jaw and closed his eyes, not wanting to look at her as he spoke. “Never.” He mumbled. He hated himself for saying it. He knew the child was innocent, it wasn’t their fault they were a bastard. But he just couldn’t bring himself to love a child that would be the constant reminder of her infidelity.

"... I understand," she nodded sadly "Even if I was to have him? and send him away?"

Aegon’s heart twisted at the sadness in her tone. On one hand, at least if she sent the child away then he wouldn’t have to look at it every day. There would be no constant reminder of her infidelity, no need to try and love a child that was a product of love she gave to another.

But on the other hand, the thought of her giving up the child because he didn’t want it… it broke his heart, to think he would force her to send her child away. “Send it away when he’s born.” He mumbled.

Y/n nodded, trembling her hands on her belly as fears began to flood down her cheeks but she made no sound

Aegon felt a pang in his chest as he saw the tears begin to fall down her cheeks, his heart clenching at the sight. A part of him wanted to reach out to her, to pull her into his arms and comfort her. To tell her that he’d changed his mind, and that he’d come to love the child. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. The thought of lying to her, of saying that he could love the child just to see her smile, was too much to bear. He stood there, frozen and unable to move, as the tears continued to fall from her eyes. His chest felt tight with guilt and regret, his mind screaming at him to say something, to do something to make her smile. But he was frozen in place, forced to stand there and watch as she cried in front of him, knowing that he was the cause of it. “I… I’m…” he stammered, the words dying on his tongue. He took a step towards her, his arms itching to reach out and hold her. To pull her against him and tell her it would be alright. But he stopped himself, clenching his fists at his sides instead to stop himself from reaching out. He knew she would likely pull away if he tried to touch her. “I… I’m sorry.” He mumbled, his shoulders slumped in defeat. He didn’t know what else to say, how to comfort her.

Y/n hugged Aegon tight in her arms crying into his chest, taking comfort from him in a way she hadn't done before in their marriage, and it became clear to Aegon just how much she loved her baby, just how much comfort she needed and how little he had given her

Aegon froze as she hugged him, her arms wrapped tight around him. It was the first time in months, maybe even years that she had hugged him, He slowly wrapped his arms around her in return, his heart twisting at the way she trembled against him. He didn’t think he’d ever seen her so vulnerable before.

"Is there anything I could do... that you would let me keep him here with me?"

Aegon swallowed and closed his eyes, his arms tightening around her. she trembled in his arms he realised the truth… there was one thing she could do. He took a deep breath and leaned his head down, his cheek resting against the top of her head. His heart thumped loudly in his chest, guilt and excitement battling inside him. “There is something you could do.” He mumbled against her hair, his grip on her waist tightening slightly.

When she nodded to indicate that she was listening, Aegon took another deep breath and continued with a low voice.

“I… I would allow her to keep the child here with you…” he began, before pausing to gather his thoughts. “If… if her promise to never see Jacaerys again. Or… or anyone else.”

"I promise, I promise on the lives of all my children"

Aegon felt his breath catch in his throat as she made the promise.

A part of him was still fearful, still waiting for the moment she would go behind his back and continue her affair with Jacaerys. But another part of him, a deeper part, desperately hoped that she was telling the truth. That she would allow him a second chance. That she would stay faithful to him from now on. He nodded and exhaled shakily. “I… I believe you.” He mumbled.

"Thank you Aegon," She nodded giving his forehead a soft kiss, and hugging him tight

Aegon tensed slightly as she kissed his forehead, his heart thundering in his chest.

He couldn’t remember the last time she had kissed him, Even before the affair, she had never been the most affectionate partner. He hadn’t known how much he’d missed those little acts until they were gone. He held her tightly in his arms, revelling in the feeling of her in his embrace. He buried his face down into the crook of her neck, his arms tightening around her. He inhaled deeply, taking in the familiar scent of lavender and lemon that surrounded her. He hadn’t realised how much he’d missed her scent until now. After a moment of holding her in his arms, Aegon finally spoke. “We should eat,” he mumbled into her neck. “you and the baby need nourishment.”

she nodded and wiped away her tears "Would... would you carry me? like you used to when we first got married? When I was pregnant with Marcus?"

Aegon’s breath hitched as she asked him to carry her, his grip on her tightening slightly. The memories her request stirred up were almost painful to think about. The early days of their marriage where they had been happy and in love, before the years had dulled the feelings and led to the situation they were in now. He nodded without hesitation. “Of course.” He mumbled, crouching down and sliding his arms underneath her, lifting her up into his arms with ease He held her close, his arms wrapped around her body carefully. He was suddenly reminded of the times when he would carry her like this when she was pregnant earlier in the marriage, how his heart would ache with love and pride at knowing her were carrying his child. Now, holding her in his arms and feeling the now familiar, but unwanted, bump bump against his chest, Aegon felt none of that love or pride. Just anger, sorrow and bitterness.

Y/n smiled and cuddled up to Aegon as he carried her giving his cheek a kiss as he carried her though the castle, "I really do love you Aegon, truly,"

Aegon felt his breath catch in his throat as she spoke, her words taking him by surprise. He didn’t think he had the right to hear those words anymore. Not after how many times he had driven her to tears. He swallowed heavily and held her tighter, forcing his voice to work. “you… you do? Even… even after everything?”

she nodded

Aegon continued carrying her in his arms, still somewhat in disbelief that she could still say that she loved him. He exhaled shakily and pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head. “And… and I love you too.”

[lydiimae]

Strains and Stresses

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x !fem reader

Warnings: Light hints at sex, mentions of drinking, the ton being cruel to the reader, Anthony fighting with the reader, old concepts about class and womanhood, a very icky insult thrown at the reader by Anthony, fluffy fluff at the end

Word Count: 2.8k

A.N: Hello my sweet loves <3 I am so sorry I have not updated in a while, I just finished finals so life has been hectic. Also- I got a job FINALLY T-T and, more importantly, the class that I was going to take during the summer fell through so I will have much more time to write! BTW THANK YOU FOR 100 FOLOWERS HOLY \^-^/. You are all so kind to me. Anyway, this is a fic based on a request that you can find here and here. I decided to mix the two, as it is a semi-angsty Ant fic that ends in fluff. I hope you enjoy my darling Anons. For those who have requested a fic, I promise they are coming! I am planning on knocking another one or two out next week, but I wanted to write a Ben fic before as he is a big comfort character for me and I need some of that energy lol. P.S. I listened to the slowed version of Futile Devices while I wrote this, because it is just what I imagine falling in love and loving would feel like. Enjoy <3

You adored working for Lady Danbury, who wouldn't? She is an incredible woman, and so very strong. You admired her, for being so independent. You thought that that would be the life you lead, alone and working out your days as a maid. Then, you met him.

Met would be the wrong word, it was more of... stumbling into him after a young debutante 'accidentally' ran into you. You knew who Anthony Bridgerton was, of course. His reputation preceded him. Many of your friends and fellow maids had spoken of how harsh, how blunt, how much of a rake, the Viscount was.

For you, however, he had never been brash nor cruel, nor had he ever lived up to his reputation. For you, he was kind, gentle, and even sweet. He had placed a steadying hand on your back and met your eyes and you knew it was over.

From then on at every ball Lady Danbury held, you would always follow him to the gardens, stealing kisses in her in-home library, and sharing stolen glances from across the ballroom. After the balls, he would take you to his townhouse and you would both spend hours speaking of your lives, your dreams, your troubles. He was nothing but a gentleman.

You tried your best to ignore the strange warmth that bloomed in your chest when you were with him. In a way, you always knew that you would end up with him. You believed that your lives were intertwined, like a string wrapped around your soul that only stopped tugging when you were near him. It was comforting.

He had expressed his love to you about seven months in, on a Sunday morning in bed. The yellow hue of the morning sunrise made it feel like you were in heaven, his hands running against your sides like you were made from the finest porcelain. He said it easily as if it was the most simple thing he had ever had to do. A simple "I love you." was murmured into your ear before his lips pressed against your forehead. Just as easily came the proposal, more of a promise, right there in the same bed.

It was simple, perhaps even plain, but not to you. To you, it showed he was comfortable enough to express his feelings, and his deepest wants, just to you. It was intimate, the light cascading down upon his skin as if he were a god, bringing out every contour and mark on his body.

After the announcement of your engagement, rumors spread like wildfire. Every house in Mayfair was a spark that made the fire grow, little trails of flame splitting off along the way until the fire was all-consuming. He had warned you that the rumors would be bad, that not many would express their support for the union of a maid and a Viscount. You just did not expect it to be so suffocating.

You found solace in his embrace, as you always did, spending countless nights wrapped in the silk sheets at his townhouse, listening to his whispers of affection and praise until they eased the tears that had spilled down your cheeks.

It went on like this for the three long months leading up to the wedding. You were married in the spring, surrounded by his loved ones as yours had passed long ago. It was small enough to feel the heavy weight of the ton lifted off of your shoulders, if only for a moment.

You honeymooned in Bath, spending time in the hillsides on worn blankets for hours, allowing your skin to be tanned by the sun. When you would go back to the villa you were staying at, you would spend the night wrapped in his bare embrace, relishing in the feeling of his skin upon yours. It was the most calming, loving, and divine three months of your life.

It has been almost eight months since the honeymoon ended. Six months of putting up with the cruel words spoken by members of the ton, of sticking to his side at balls just so you could try and shake the feeling of the many glares sent your way. Six months of learning not only what it is to be a Viscountess, but what it is like to be a noblewoman.

Anthony had spent a month teaching you the proper etiquette that came with being a noblewoman, a lot of it being common sense thanks to Lady Danbury's way of ruling around her home. However, there were some things you found to be too niche to remember. One thing was that a lady could not go out on a walk by herself.

As a maid, walks alone in the gardens of Lady Danbury's estate had become a part of your daily routine. You would often spend countless hours sitting beneath a willow tree flipping pages of a new book or you would walk around the grounds, seeking solace in the fresh air to clear your mind after a particularly hard day. You never snuck out alone, except to see Anthony, and even then you did nothing untoward, which is why it was so hard for you to remember this silly rule. It was one you forgot today, too.

"Thank you, Rose." You hum to your lady's maid as she finishes your hair. She smiles and curtsies in return. "Of course, my lady. You need only ask if you need anything else." She says before she walks out of the room. You sigh, the title the servants address you with will never not feel strange. You adjust your jewels before standing up and walking to the window.

You had been told as you woke that your husband would be in his study today, claiming he must work on the financial affairs, meaning you have the day to yourself. The view from the master bedroom was a gorgeous one, the windows overlooking the entirety of the lands that Aubery Hall encompassed. You smile to yourself, deciding to take a stroll, perhaps even find a spot to enjoy your new book of sonnets Anthony's brother gifted you.

You pluck the book in question off of your bedside table before walking down the grand staircase. The house, other than the footsteps of the servants, is quiet. No one around to stop you from enjoying some time outside, alone. You grab your parasol and open the door, stepping out into the summer air before making your way around the lands of the estate.

Anthony leans back in his desk chair, stretching out his limbs after finishing the last piece of paperwork he has on his desk. He takes a large swig of bourbon before standing up and moving to the window, pulling the curtains open.

He glances out over the sprawling hills of the estates, swirling the copper liquid in his glass as he takes in the view. As his eyes roam, he spots a small figure making their way up one of the hills. At first, he thinks it a servant, probably out to collect fresh flowers for his bedroom upon his wife's request, but when he glances again he sees your parasol. The one he brought back from one of his ventures to France.

He can feel himself getting angry. He had drilled this into your head one too many times, never be anywhere alone, not in public and not on private lands. The servants whisper, and their gossip spreads even faster than the gossip of the bloodthirsty Mamas of the ton. He downs the rest of his bourbon before slamming the glass on his desk. He rounds it and grabs his velvet jacket from its place on the back of his chair, slinging it around his shoulders before stomping out of the room.

You are just about to sit down when you hear the calling of your name from towards the estate. You look over your shoulder, leaning on your closed parasol, to find your husband hurriedly making his way over to where you stand.

At first, you think that something bad might've happened, perhaps he found something in the many documents that was awry, but you know that is not the case from the way he is walking. Stomping, rather. He is angry, furious even, so you try and wrack your mind to find what you have done to make him this angry.

Before you can he is upon you, one of his large hands encircling your wrists and dragging you away from the hill. "Anthony, do not grab me like some sort of brute!" You yelp, trying to tug away from his bruising grip, which he only tightens upon your plea. "I shall grab you however I wish." He snarls, making your eyes widen. "Be quiet until we are inside."

He tugs you along until you are both inside of his study, where he slams the door and locks it. You begin to speak but he quickly interrupts. "Have you any idea of what you could have just done by being out there, Y/N?!" He shouts, making you take several steps back in surprise. "I was only going for a walk." You whisper and he scoffs. "A walk alone, you foolish woman!" He continues, his voice only getting louder.

The insult sends anger through your veins. "You shall not insult your own wife for merely going outside!" You shout back and he narrows his eyes almost dangerously. "I have told you hundreds of times that you are not permitted outside without a proper companion, Y/N! Going against that is indeed foolish as I have hammered it into your head countless times!" He shouts. "I am not foolish! This is all new for me! I-" You start but he is quick to respond.

"New? That is rich! Utterly rich, because to me it has been eleven months! Eight of which you have been here, doing your duties as my Viscountess!" He shouts louder, on the verge of screaming. You press yourself against the wall opposite to him. "Did they not teach you anything in your time as a maid?! You still act like a common whore even though we have fought about this too many times to count! I am tired of it!" He shouts.

Common whore. The title cuts straight through you like a hot knife, the burns making your eyes well up with tears. The title has been used to spite you at every ball, in every gossip letter, and in every whisper you have heard in the last year. It does not hurt coming from them any longer, but from him? From your husband? It feels like he has damaged your very being.

You stand there stunned, watching his mouth move but hearing no words. "You think I am a common whore?" You whisper and he stops, looking at you. You are pressed against the wall, your arms hugging your frame, tears spilling freely down your cheeks. His body language visibly changes from that of an angered husband to a guilty one.

"Y/N I did not mean-" He begins but you shake your head. "You most certainly did mean it, it came out of your mouth!" You sob. "I was angry! I am angry!" He shouts, more in a desperate act now, wishing he could reverse time. "So?!" You shout, your gloved hands pressing into your bare arms. "I have never once insulted you like that! Never once used what has been said about you as a weapon for merely-" You laugh bitterly, shaking your head and looking away. "For merely going outside." You scoff.

He falters and visibly slumps in defeat. "It is foolish, but they will talk, Y/N. You know-" He begins quietly, but again you do not let him finish. "Yes, Anthony. They will talk, they will say the words you have just spoken to me." You say, wiping your eyes. "I forgot, and I know you have drilled every rule into my head but this is not the norm for me." You whisper

"When I was a maid, no, even when I was a little girl, I would go wherever I wished alone. I would pick up food at the market for my family, and take my brother to his job at the factory, and now I cannot even go outside alone? Upon my husband's private lands, no less?" You whisper. "So forgive me, Anthony, for forgetting rules that you and your siblings have grown up abiding by. I am trying to learn and remember them now, after living a very different life." You say, looking at your feet in an attempt to stop the tears. As if not looking at him will somehow ease the sting of his words.

He scoops you into his arms without thinking about it, pressing his forehead to yours. "Y/N, you know I did not mean it." He whispers and you frown, trying to tug away. "No, no. I might've meant it in the moment, and I know I cannot take it back." He amends, his hold on you tightening. Still, you refuse to meet his eyes. "Darling, please look at me. I swear I shall never say anything as cruel as what I did ever again." He whispers, his fingers curling around your chin so he can bring your gaze back to him.

When your eyes meet his he offers a sad smile, tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear. "It was cruel. No, no. Cruel is too kind of a word, it was vile, for me to utter such a word when speaking of my own wife." He whispers, his hand coming down to your cheek. "I swear to you that I mean it when I say I am sorry, you shall never know how sorry I am for saying something so disgusting to you."

He continues, his thumbs swiping away the tears that have now begun to flow again. "You are the most important thing to me. I have done a terrible job of showing you that today. I shall spend every day trying to ease the pain of my foolish words." He vows, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I know this is hard for you, the rules of society are so... foolishly strict for women and even I cannot imagine how much stress they are adding upon everything else" He murmurs, and you tug at his sleeve, willing him into an embrace.

You tuck your face into the crook of his neck and allow yourself to cry. "Shhh, Y/N. You are perfect, no matter your status." He whispers in your ear, running one of his hands up and down your back as the other rests on your hip. "I am not a good Viscountess, Anthony." You whisper and his grip on you tightens. "Hush. You are the perfect Viscountess, Y/N. The perfect Bridgerton." He promises.

"You have been learning so quick, one slip-up of an utterly foolish rule does not discount the many months where you have been perfect." He whispers, pressing his lips to the side of your head. "Neither do the words of your brutish husband." He teases quietly and your lips turn up a bit. "The gossiping Mamas will find another topic in time, my love. They are merely jealous that their daughters are still stuck without a husband while you are here." He murmurs and you nod.

He pulls back and cups your cheeks, watching your eyes flutter shut. "Better?" He whispers, running his thumbs along your cheekbones. You nod and he sighs in relief, bringing you closer to his chest. "I will never be able to express how sorry I am for saying that to you." He whispers. You smile, leaning into his touch and nodding.

He presses a gentle kiss to your lips and wipes the remainder of your tears away before pulling back a bit. "We shall have a picnic." He whispers and you open your eyes, laughing. "We do not have to" You giggle and he grins, shaking his head. "Nonsense, we must. I have been cooped up inside all day and I wish to spend time with you, in the sunshine." He hums, pressing his lips to your nose.

An hour later you are both lying down on a lacy blanket, a picnic basket full of sweet treats. Two glasses of wine stand abandoned on the grass, being forgotten in a mess of kisses. Your head is resting on his chest, your hands clasped together over one of his legs. "I love you." He whispers, pressing a kiss to your brow. Your eyes are shut but you smile. "And I love you." You whisper back, falling asleep while bathed in sunlight.

How divine it feels to be loved by Anthony Bridgerton.

[poppyflower-22]

His Girl

Part 2

Summary: Lando loves his rich, girl boss, girl. Though he doesn't really know what she really does underneath. Until he does.

or

In which Lando finds out his girlfriend is not who she said she was.

Side note: I'm using names for reader, and spelling and grammar errors. This is fake, nothing is real. So don't send shit massages to me.

Warnings: Blood. Dead body. Guns.

Part One

Masterlist

2022

It had been two years since Bonnie and Lando met and started dating. In those two years, they had been so in love. Never felling like this with anyone else. Lando's family was so happy for them both seeing their love.

Lando had never questioned where she got her money as Bonnie had told him that her father was wealthy and left her with everything and the company.

He did question her about the bodyguards following her all the time, But Bonnie had just said that it had been like that since she was born as he father was a wealthy man.

He was in aww when he had first saw her two-story London home. It was set on an acreage and was huge. He had jockeying asked if she was in the mafia, what he didn't see was the color to drain from her face and her guards throw each other looks.

The first time Lando had ever been almost close to figuring it out was by accident. Something Bonnie had made saw never happened again. Because if she was ever going to protect anything in the world it would be Lando and their relationship.

It was an early morning in London. The sun not even rising yet. Lando had been staying with Bonnie for a bit in her home as they talked about buying an apartment or house together last night.

Bonnie was relucent, but she agreed it was the next step in their relationship. But she would be keeping her estate in London for business and travel.

Lando was so ecstatic for their move together. And they had celebrating, by having sex. Never a dull moment with Lando.

Bonnie woke as someone entermeted her room and shook her lightly. Lando's arm was around her waist and the other was under her head.

"Miss. Salvatore." A light voice whispered to her. Bonnie new that voice and the only person to ever wake her up would be her maid.

"Mary?" Bonnie asked confused as she sat up quickly, not to disturb Lando.

Her maid's face greeted her. "Someone's here to see you." She spoke her voice shaking lightly.

"Who? At this time?" She whispered to her maid as she carefully got out of bed and grabbed her robe from the floor. Lando rolled over to the other side quickly falling asleep.

"Mr. Lopez is here." Mary whispered terrified.

Bonnie froze from getting her slippers on and looked at Mary wide eye. Mr. Lopez was a rival mafia gang that had always had it out for her father and his operation. While her father dealed guns and money, Mr. Lopez dealed drugs. Something her father stayed away from.

"Get the men and stay here in case Lando wakes up." Bonnie order her maid as she bent down and lifted the rug from under bed and pulled her daggers from out of the floorboards.

Bonnie walked down the hall with her guards all around her. When she got to the grand staircase, she saw her other maids and she guested he was in the parlor room.

"Making yourself at home." Bonnie called as she walked in the room and saw him sitting on one of the black couches.

Mr. Lopez chuckled. "Why how are this fine morning, Bonnie." He smiled at her. But in a cruel way.

"It's Miss Salvatore to you." She snaped and crossed her arms and took a seat in front of him. Mr.' Lopez's back was facing the back where Bonnie's guards were. Ready to kill if needed. "What do you want that couldn't wait till the sunrise was up?" She asked annoyed.

A maid walked in the room with tea for Bonnie. She thanked her and faced the man. He raised his eyebrows. "No offerings for your guest?" He asked leaning back in the leather couch.

Bonnie shot him an annoyed look. "No." She bluntly told him as she added her sugar cubes to her tea. "Now get to it." She ordered.

"Your father dealed in guns and money but now that he's gone, don't think it's time you expanded." Mr. Lopex started as Bonnie listened closely.

"What are you proposing?"

"Drugs." He simply said. "You would be making more money than you do now." He smiled thinking money would get her to agree.

"No." She simply spoke as she crossed her legs.

Mr. Lopez frowned. "You didn't even think about it."

Bonnie shook her head. "I have. My father didn't like drugs and I don't like drugs." She told him. "If that's all you wanted to talk about, you can go now." She told him and leaned back in her seat with her cup of tea.

Mr. Lopez frowned at her and then smirked, "You don't want me to hurt Mr. Norris up in your bedroom, do you?" He taunted her.

Bonnie tensed. The maids and guards that were in the room tensed as well. They had seen firsthand how much Bonnie loved Lando. They knew what she would do to keep him safe.

"Are you threating me?" Bonnie asked as she put her tea down and narrowed her eyes at him.

"No, I'm threating your boyfriend." He smirked. "I want you to do drugs and split all your proferts with me."

"Or what?"

"Mr. Norris gets a rude awaking." Mr. Lopez smirked thinking he won. He leaned back in his seat as he watches Bonnie's face go from fear to blank.

"Do you know what my father always taught me, Mr. Lopez?" She asked as she stood up from her seat and out of the way. She moved to the fireplace martlet where photos of her and her father were sat.

"What?" He asked confused.

Bonnie smiled at a photo of her and her father. It was her sixth birthday. She turned to Mr. Lopez and smirked as her loyal guard got his silencer gun out of his jacked.

"He told me that you never enter a house without protection or backup. And you especially never threaten their family. And you Josphe Hunt Lopez have just made that mistake." She smirked and watched as he quickly shot up and turn around and a bullet was lodge in his head.

He fell back and dropped on her marble floors. Blood quickly falling out near his head. Bonnie looked at his dead body. "Never threaten someone's loved ones."

The maids quickly got to cleaning just as Marry come around the corner with a look in her eyes.

"Love?" Lando called. bonnie eyes widened and she skipped out of the parlor door and closed them behind her as Lando came down the staircase. His eyes lit up when he saw her. "There you are." He smiled.

Bonnie hugged him back when he hugged her. His head rested in her neck as he hummed. "What are you doing up?" She asked him and ran her hand through his hair.

"What are you doing up." He shot back teasingly. She shot him a grin and shook her head with a laugh.

"Business call." She answered with a smile. Trying to not sound nervous. Lando just hummed and Bonnie took him by the hand and started walking up the stairs. "Why don't we get back bed and try to get more sleep?" She suggested.

Lando hummed with a smile. "Yeah. I just saw you weren't up and wondered where you were." He spoke and shot her a small smile one she sent back.

"Sorry. Duty calls." She laughed lightly. When Lando's back was turned she shot a look at a maid, and she nodded before walking back into the parlor, to help clean the mess up.

Bonnie and Lando both walked back to their room as the maids and bodyguards cleaned up Mr. Lopez. It was something Bonnie didn't want to ever happen again in her home.

Maybe moving was good. Many people from her world didn't know where she lived but the rest that new where people that she trusted now. Her and her people getting rid of the people she didn't trust.

She wouldn't let anything happen to Lando. She wouldn't forgive herself.

Bonnie smiled at Lando as they both got back under the covers. Lando resting his head on her chest. "I love you." Lando told Bonnie as he was falling asleep by Bonnie's fingers running threw his hair.

Bonnie smiled and kissed the top of his head. "I love you, Lan." She whispered back. She felt Lando place a soft kiss on her chest and Bonnie listened to his breathing as he put back to sleep.

Bonnie would do anything for him. he was the best thing that ever happen to her. She hadn't loved much in her short life. But now that she had felt it, looked at it. She was never letting it go or letting anyone destroy what she had found.

Her parents were the only love she had ever seen growing up. Her father had loved her mother so much and it killed him when she died but he didn't turn out horrible like most dads, no he loved her so much. Did everything he could for her.

Her father always said that he didn't regret loving her mother, because he got to know what love was. And he wouldn't change that for that world. She wanted that. A love that will hurt you when it's over. Because then you know it was real.

"I would do anything for you." She whispered down to Lando who was asleep. She placed a light kiss to his cheek. "Nothing is ever going to happen to you on my watch. I'll make sure of it." She promises herself and asleep Lando.

Making promise you can't keep was always going to end badly. There was no dyeing that.

Part 1

Masterlist

Hope you liked it. Hopefully the next part won't be long.

[aurumalatus]

𝐩𝐢𝐱𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬!𝐚𝐮 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝟏

pairing. kinich x fem!reader

genre/warnings. pixelprincess!au (princess!reader x knight!kinich), reposted for formatting lol

summary. a series of random headcanons from the universe! part 1 of many because i have lots of thoughts about these two

author's note. feel free to come scream about some more headcanons with me <3 enjoy!

𝐩𝐢𝐱𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬!𝐚𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

kinich and the princess have known about each other for a long time, but it’s only recently that they’ve really talked a lot and become close (since kinich became your guard)

kinich is a bit more open in this universe because although he grew up an orphan, he was recruited into the guard earlier and taken care of by his fellow trainees and the castle staff. he’s still pretty serious and deadpan at his core but he has a bit of silly in him too 

the maids especially used to dote on him a lot. they would coo about how beautiful his eyes are and sneak him cakes and sweets from the kitchen

kinich and the princess actually had one key interaction when they were children that she doesn’t remember

the princess came down with a bad illness and had to stay in her room for about a week. kinich was assigned guard right outside her room, but she never saw him. still, they used to talk a lot during that week through her door, and she never quite figured out who her temporary friend was.

princess used to be *very* spoiled and she knows this. kinich is one of the only people who knocks her down a peg, and he also taught her how to do a lot of practical things (i.e. cleaning, cooking, weaving) 

kinich takes his shirt off by grabbing the back of his collar and pulling it over his head (idk if i’m describing this well, but the image in my head is INSANE). 

once they actually get together, kinich is the type to kiss the princess’s tears away when she cries (i’m going to scream)

kinich secretly has always known he loved the princess in some capacity, maybe since the day he was inducted as her guard (he looked up into her eyes, knelt before her, and felt something burst in his chest). he doesn’t feel like he deserves her love in return and feels so committed to his duty that he won’t do anything about it.

kinich isn’t afraid of dying, but he’s afraid of leaving the princess alone. it’s the reason why he insists on teaching her so many practical things like fighting—he doesn’t trust anyone else to protect her like he can.

there’s a yearly tournament among the guards (and any citizens that want to enter) that is held to win the royals’ favor. kinich is required to participate due to his position, but he tries a lot harder than he lets on—something about letting another guard win kind of irritates him. he wins your ribbon as a prize, a sign of your personal favor, and keeps it on him at all times. he claims it’s just to prove that you owe him.

kinich is a TERROR in the capital marketplace. sellers love him and hate him—he’s fair, but he barters like HELL. you, on the other hand, are any easy target. you will pay pretty much any price they name, and this irritates kinich greatly.

kinich is in charge of training newer recruits to the guard, and older members will warn them not to mention the princess in front of him. last time someone said something disrespectful about her, kinich had them running laps until the sun came up.

most mornings, kinich trains at sunrise. the princess will come out to join him sometimes, either to just lay down in the grass and talk, or to bring out a picnic

many princesses from other nations are attracted to kinich, but he does not return the sentiment—whenever one tries to talk to him, he acts extremely dry and boring on purpose until they lose interest.

kinich has a lot of piercings, but they're not always optimal to fight in—on days when he expects a battle, he wears a pair of studs that the princess gifted him

the castle maids have a running bet on how long it will take you and kinich to get married. sometimes they try to push it along by telling kinich you're looking for him when you aren't, just to pull the two of you together. the pot is over one million Mora, and at some point, the queen joins as well.

[seonghrtz]

𝒇𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒚 𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 ✶ nanami kento

꒰ first sight ! ꒱ an invitation to a palace ball gives a young woman hope of reuniting with the dashing stranger she met in the woods.

❛❛ an unlikely encounter in the woods between two desperate souls led to the blossoming of a beautiful friendship ⸻ or perhaps something more. ❜❜

pairing. prince!nanami kento x (cinderella)fem!reader.

contents. cinderella alternative universe, fluff, slight angst, friends to lovers, he fell first he fell harder, royal!au, mentions of death, occ nanami.

amy's note. hi sweetie, this is amy!!! this story was more inspired by the cinderella live action movie (2015). i love this movie and have watched it so many times with my mom that i know it by heart hihihi. also, i had to include the iconic scenes of cinderella and the prince in the garden and the stepmother breaking the crystal slipper!!! and one quote from jane austen's pride and prejudice. in short, just nanami being the prince we deserve!!! i hope you enjoy it and have a good read <3

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!

𝕺𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐔𝐏𝐎𝐍 𝐀 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄, there was a beautiful, sweet girl called Y/n. This little girl lived a quiet life with her family. Her father was a merchant who traveled frequently and her mother stayed at home, due to her fragile health, teaching her daughter and taking care of her. Although it was a simple life, Y/n was happy and that was enough for her.

However, fate doesn't always have a happy ending for everyone, and her mother eventually passed away due to health complications. And with her last breath, she wished that her daughter would always be kind and gentle, that she would have courage and always want to do good, even when evil tries to prevail. And Y/n promised her mother that her kindness would prevail in the most difficult moments of her life and that she would live a good life.

Not long after her mother's death, the girl's father decided to remarry, looking for a way for his daughter to have a mother figure, not to replace her biological mother, but someone who could be by her side when he couldn't be. Things didn't go well in the family, her stepmother and stepsisters were mean and abusive, taking advantage of her kindness when her father was away on business. And then everything fell apart when the girl's father had an accident on one of his trips and died, leaving his daughter at the mercy of her stepmother and stepsisters' selfish will.

Y/n was reduced to a maid instead of a family member. She was moved from her room to the attic and had to do the housework, washing and cooking all day. She watched as everything her mother believed in and liked gradually disappeared, while things became more her stepmother's style.

One day, tired of everything, the young woman rode into the forest. The wind in her hair and the tears drying on her face felt a little liberating. That same day, she crossed paths with a young man named Kento, who wasn't having his best day either.

An unlikely encounter in the woods between two desperate souls led to the blossoming of a beautiful friendship ⸻ or perhaps something more.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ✶

Y/n awoke with the sunrise. After years, the young woman had become accustomed to the routine and every morning she rose early to prepare breakfast for her stepmother and stepsisters and then set about cleaning the house. At the very least, doing the chores around the house kept her mind busy.

Just as she was preparing the materials to clean the house, a knock on the front door echoed throughout the house. Y/n left the bucket of water she was holding in a corner and went to the door, surprised by the sudden visit. It was too early for people to leave their homes, and the postman had come the day before.

"Good morning" the young woman smiled politely at the stranger in front of her "What can I do for you?"

"Good morning, miss." The young man fumbled with the bag hanging next to his body and pulled out an envelope, holding it out to the young woman. Y/n took the envelope and watched as the boy said goodbye and walked away without saying another word.

The young woman looked surprised, but shrugged her shoulders. She made her way to the pantry where her stepmother was having breakfast and asked to be excused before entering the room.

"What did I say about coming into the living room while I'm having breakfast?" her stepmother said with a harsh tone.

"Excuse me, but a boy just came by and left this envelope." The young woman placed the envelope on the table and walked away, watching as her stepmother picked it up and opened it.

Y/n waited for a reaction and was startled when the older woman in front of her suddenly stood up from the breakfast table and gave several quick and shouting orders.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, GO WAKE UP MY DAUGHTERS! WE HAVE A ROYAL BALL TO ATTEND AND WE NEED THE BEST DRESSES!”

"A royal ball?" she asked confused.

"The King is giving a ball to find a wife for his son, who will inherit the kingdom, now run along because I need to go into town to find the three best dresses in town! One of my daughters is coming back married that night!"

"Oh, ma'am, that's very kind of you!"

"What?" The stepmother put her hands on her waist.

"The dress..."

"Oh dear, and who says the dress is for you?" the older woman laughed with glee, "Two will be for my beautiful daughters and the other will be for me, I will not spend my money to buy something for you to wear to the ball."

"But could I go to the ball?" she asked hopefully.

"Um..." the stepmother looked the young woman up and down, "If you've done all your chores for the day and have a dress, maybe you could go."

"Ah, thank you, ma'am!" Y/n smiled excitedly at the idea of going to a royal ball.

"Now go wake up my daughters!"

After waking her step-sisters, the young woman watched as the house descended into chaos. The two sisters screamed excitedly at the idea of the royal ball, while their stepmother ordered them to go to the city. Y/n felt true peace only when the house was deserted, just her and the animals in it. And without further ado, the young woman smiled to herself and ran to the stable. Luckily, her stepmother had left just when she had a secret appointment.

On the day she received the news of her father's death, and on the same day she rode aimlessly into the forest, Y/n had met Kento, a young man who had happened to receive tragic news and had ridden into the forest to relax. After the unexpected meeting, the young woman and the man agreed to meet every day in the same place at the same time to talk about their tragedies and successes. However, Y/n had kept these meetings secret, afraid that if her stepmother found out, she would forbid her to meet the boy she knew so little about.

With a slight smile on her face, the young woman rode to the meeting point and was surprised to see Kento waiting for her. Usually, she was the first to arrive, but the euphoria over the news of the ball had delayed her a few minutes.

"Miss." Kento smiled at the sight of her and helped her off the horse.

"Ken, I'm sorry I'm late!" she said, smoothing down the unruly strands that had been messed up by the wind "The invitation to the royal ball ended up stirring things up at home."

"Speaking of the royal ball, will you be attending?" Kento tried to hide the slight hint of hope in his words.

"I still have my doubts about that," she sighed, sitting down on a log next to her horse. "My stepmother said that if I managed to finish all my chores for the day, and if I had a dress, I could go to the ball."

"If they treat you like that, why don't you leave?"

"It's not that easy...not to mention that it's not that bad, other places can be more hostile."

"I see..." the young man sits down next to the woman, "I'd like you to go to the ball so we can have at least one dance.”

The young man's words made her laugh.

"Then I hope you'll save a dance for me."

"I'm saving all the dances for you, you're the only one I want to dance with on the ball night." Kento's words made Y/n feel shy.

"I think there will be many more interesting ladies to dance with." The young woman shifted her gaze to the trees that made up the scenery around her.

"I have no interest in other ladies, none of them can compare to you."

"Kento! You shouldn't say that!"

"Why not? My mother taught me to be honest and I'm just telling the truth," a small smile appeared on his lips.

"Maybe you shouldn't be so direct with your honesty..." The young woman's face burned at the statement of the man next to her.

"Well, I wish you'd come to the ball so we could see each other outside of this forest for once."

"And dance the night away?" she laughed lightly.

"And dance the night away," Kento repeated her question, but this time as a concrete statement, leaving no doubt about his intentions with the young woman on the night of the royal ball.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ✶

If Y/n said she didn't expect her stepmother and stepsisters to make her day the busiest of her life, running around doing chores and being responsible for every little detail of the preparations for the royal ball, she would be lying.

She'd woken up earlier than usual to get her mother's gown ready for the royal ball, but it wasn't long before her stepmother started barking orders, causing her gown to be forgotten. Cleaning the stairs, feeding the animals in the barn, helping her step-sisters put on their huge, garish party dresses, helping them fix their hair... among other things, Y/n had no time to finish her own dress.

Perhaps her meeting with Kento should only take place in the forest, hidden in secret. There would be no other way, not if her stepmother still had the power to dictate orders and interfere in her life as if she couldn't make her own decisions.

When she finished climbing the stairs that led to the attic where her bedroom had become, the young girl was surprised to open the door and find her mother's dress mended, brand new.

"How…?" Y/n approached the dress, delighted, "Oh, it doesn't matter, thank you to whoever made it!" She smiled excitedly, now she could meet Kento and dance with him all night, just as she had said she would if she could attend the ball.

The young woman took a quick shower to get ready for the ball. There wasn't much to prepare, she fixed her dress to her body, put on her pink shoes with low heels, applied pink lipstick and put on her mother's pearl necklace before fixing her hair. She didn't have much, just as she didn't need much. Y/n was just happy to be at the ball and to have the opportunity to meet her friend. And she preferred to keep it simple.

But her happiness was short-lived...

When she came down to the parlor just as her stepmother and daughters were about to leave for the ball. Looking at the girl in her ball gown, with a happy expression on her face, Madame Tremaine saw the perfect moment to break her like fragile old porcelain.

"What's that?" Her stepmother's superior look didn't intimidate Y/n.

"I'm ready to go to the royal ball!"

"You? The ball?" Drizella laughed anasally, "But not even on the day the pigs fly!"

"Mom, I don't want to be seen with the maid! Look at these rags! They don't even compare to our fancy dresses!" Anastasia commented, looking up and down at the young woman in front of her.

"But you promised I could go if I had a dress and finished my homework," the young woman said, remembering the agreement they had made when they were invited to the ball.

"I don't remember promising you anything," Tremaine circled Y/n like a predator circles its prey. "You must have misunderstood, my dear. Never in my life would I go to such an important ball with a filthy, ridiculous little girl like you." The woman held the young woman's chin tightly, forcing her to look into her cold, hateful eyes.

"I don't understand... I've never done anything to you..." Y/n mumbled, her eyes watering as much from the force her stepmother put on her jaw as from the words spoken to her.

"You're an insignificant, annoying little thing, you know that?" Tremaine let go of Y/n's chin and smiled sideways before reaching for the pearl necklace that adorned the young woman's neck and ripping it off with her own hand, startling her. "Oops!" the woman smiled as she tore the sleeve and front of the dress, making her daughters laugh at the scene and help their mother destroy the dress, "Come on girls, we can't be late for the ball.”

Y/n felt her body shake, and when they were gone, the young woman ran quickly, sobbing, to the garden ⸻ the place where she had so many memories with her family, with her mother, and which Tremaine had never been able to change. She sat down on a bench and began to cry, not just for what had happened a few moments ago, but for everything she had been through these past few years without her family.

"But what is a beautiful girl doing crying instead of having fun at the ball?" The voice of a mysterious person startled Y/n, who was trapped in her own world of memories.

"Who... Who are you?" The young woman looked up, startled, and rubbed her eyes to wipe away the tears.

"Your fairy godmother, dear! Or rather, your Fairy Godfather!"

"What?" The young woman looked at the person before her. He was tall, with white hair, blue eyes hidden behind glasses, and a pair of large shiny wings.

"You can call me Gojo if you prefer, now come on, hurry up, we have a ball to attend!" Gojo said hurriedly, pulling Y/n to get up from the bench.

"But I can't go to the ball like this!"

"What do you mean?" His glasses slipped down his nose.

"My dress is torn, I can't go like this."

"And why didn't you say so before?" Gojo raised an eyebrow, "Do you mind a few casual changes?" He pulled his wand from his pocket and smiled when he saw the young woman nod, "Then let's go!"

Gojo scratched his throat before dictating the dress, which completely transformed. The pink quickly turned to blue, and the single layer became several. The dress became voluminous, shiny and elegant, fit for a princess ⸻ and Y/n couldn't help but feel like one in that wonderful dress.

"Let me see your feet," Gojo ordered.

"What? My feet? Why do you want to see my feet?"

"Are you crazy thinking I won't do my full job? You need a proper shoe for that dress!"

Without questioning the fairy, Y/n lifted the hem of her dress to reveal her pink shoes, which in less than a few seconds had been transformed into a beautiful pair of crystal heels.

"Are they crystal?" the young woman asked in shock.

"The real question is, why not crystal? It's just a little gift, honey," Gojo smiled sideways, "Now hurry up, or you'll miss the first dance! Do you have any pumpkins?"

"Pumpkin? There are some over there." Y/n pointed to one of the corners of the garden.

"Wonderful. We have a pumpkin and some mice, perfect for a carriage and its horses." Gojo smiled proudly before casting another spell, transforming the pumpkin into a huge, detailed carriage and the nearby mice into majestic horses, "Now let's go, you can't be late!" He pulled Y/n into the carriage.

"But what about my stepmother and my step-sisters? They'll recognize me when they see me at the ball!"

"Don't worry about that!" Gojo tapped the young girl's head with his wand, "And remember, sweetie, all this magic here will only last until midnight, no longer."

"Until midnight?" Y/n smiled sweetly, "That's long enough, I don't need more than that. Thank you for everything you've done for me."

"No thanks, sweetie, I'm your fairy godfather, it's just my job. Now go to the ball and have fun, break it out!"

"All right!" Y/n laughed, "Thanks again!"

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ✶

Y/n was late.

She realized this when she finished climbing the endless stairs that led to the entrance of the ballroom and found the doors closed.

The young woman took a deep breath before opening the doors, allowing a glimpse of the stairs that would lead to the dance floor and where the other guests were gathered. She bowed when she saw the king on a throne at the top of the hall and walked quietly down the stairs, but the people began to spread out, forming a corridor from one side of the hall to the other.

Noticing the person on the other side, the young woman smiled and walked excitedly toward the person in the middle of the hall.

"Ken," Y/n smiled at the sight of the blonde.

"You came." Kento smiled, lost in the beauty of the woman before him.

"You promised me a dance," she smiled at the memory of their last encounter in the forest.

"Then I would like... I mean... allow me the greatest of pleasures by granting me the honor of letting you lead this... first..."

"Dance?" the young woman said, completing the prince's request.

"Yes, dance." Kento smiled awkwardly with a blush on his cheeks and ears as he saw the woman before him nod in agreement.

Gently pulling her by the waist and holding one of her hands, Kento led the dance as soon as the music began, whirling her around the hall. The young prince held her tightly, afraid that this moment would be one of his dreams, for he had found her fragile in the forest at a time when his own heart was fragile.

"Everyone is looking at you." Y/n mumbled sheepishly as she noticed the eyes of the guests watching them dance around the ballroom.

"You couldn't be more wrong." Kento laughed slightly, "They're looking at you."

When the music for the first dance ended, there was no waiting for the next dance to begin. Soon, the ballroom floor was filled with couples happily dancing to the lively music of the orchestra.

"Come with me." Kento whispered in Y/n's ear and led her out of the room.

"So... you're the prince?" The young woman asked even though it was as obvious as sunlight. She wanted an excuse to strike up a conversation as they walked to wherever Kento wanted to take her.

"Not the Prince, but one of the princes that exist in the world," Kento said awkwardly, "There are several... not just me..."

"But aren't you an apprentice, as you told me when we first met?"

"Yes, I'm an apprentice monarch who is still learning his trade." Nanami's words made Y/n laugh briefly, "First of all, I should apologize. Please forgive me for my lies, I imagined you would treat me differently if you knew I was the prince of these lands, I thought you were a good honest girl and now I have proof that you really are."

"So... no more surprises?" the young woman asks the boy, holding out her hand and showing him her little finger.

"No more surprises." Kento gently intertwined his little finger with the young woman's, wishing the world could stop right then and there. "This way, I promise we'll be right there," he said as he led her through the castle's vast garden.

"Won't they miss you at the ball?"

"Maybe," he shrugged, "but I'm not planning on going back just yet."

"Is there a problem?"

“If I go back now, they'll try to push me towards a lady of their choosing." Nanami said dejectedly, maybe he didn't want to talk about his problems, not on such a magical night. "They want me to marry for advantage.”

"Well, I think you should rule your heart," the young woman said with a slight smile.

"Perhaps, but I must listen to and obey the king's wishes."

"He's your father, Kento, I'm sure he'll understand your point of view, you just need the right time"

"I've never shown this place to anyone before," Kento said, changing the subject when they reached the spot he wanted to show the young woman. "It's a secret garden, I thought you might like it.”

"I love it!" Y/n smiled as she explored the area until she came to a swing attached to a tree.

"Please," the young prince said, motioning for her to sit on the swing as soon as he noticed her gaze.

"I don't know if I should," the young woman said shyly.

"Yes, you should."

"No, I shouldn't."

"Yes, you should."

"No."

"Yes!"

"Okay." She shrugged, gave in and sat down on the swing, and Nanami soon began to push her gently.

Y/n had as much fun as Nanami. They'd never met outside the confines of the forest, and even after so many surprises that beautiful night, they couldn't help but feel the magic ⸻ and love ⸻ in the air. There, at that moment, Nanami Kento wasn't a prince about to be thrown to the first rich princess who would sign a contract favorable to the kingdoms, and Y/n wasn't the maid of her stepmother and stepsisters who was constantly being abused. They were just themselves, without their titles, without what defined them, they were just two souls in love, enjoying the time they had left.

When Y/n's crystal shoe accidentally came off her foot, Nanami quickly stopped pushing her on the swing and crouched down in front of her, taking the shoe in his hands. He held up the hem of her dress, revealing Y/n's bare foot, and gently picked it up to put the shoe back on her foot.

"Is it crystal?" Nanami's hand, holding the young woman's foot, unconsciously patted her ankle.

"And why wouldn't it be?" she said gracefully, "Thank you."

"Y/n... would you accept..." The young prince's speech was cut short as the clock struck midnight.

"It's midnight..." The young woman got up from the swing, causing Nanami to get up with her in fright. "I have to go!"

"Wait!" Nanami watched as the young woman hurried past the exit of the garden. "Why do you have to go now?"

"Your Royal Highness is very kind, thank you for the wonderful evening," she said as she walked in quick steps, "I will never forget every second we spent together, it was magical. And who knows, maybe we can meet again in the forest."

"Why are you in such a hurry?"

"It's hard to explain! But I promise we'll meet again!" Y/n smiled as she ran frantically.

"Y/n! Where are you going?" Kento ran after the young woman, but unfortunately, there were several obstacles in his way. It was as if the universe didn't want him to reach her at this moment.

As she descended the castle's long staircase to the exit gates, she lost one of her crystal slippers on one of the steps. Fearing the final chime of the clock, the young woman left the shoe behind, believing that its magic would eventually fade, and it would be nothing more than a lost heel.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ✶

All the magic vanished when Y/n arrived home, leaving only her little crystal shoe on her foot. The young woman bent down and picked up the only remaining shoe ⸻ since she had lost the other pair ⸻ and smiled as she looked at the shoe in her hands. The fact that it was there proved that it hadn't been a dream, but a real event.

Y/n went up to the attic and on a loose floor ⸻ where she kept some of her mother's things ⸻ she put on the crystal slipper. She knew deep down that something bad would happen if her stepmother found out that she hadn't just gone to the ball, but had danced with the prince.

Ah, the prince.

Not even in her wildest dreams would the young girl imagined that the boy she had met in the forest, and who had been meeting her at the same place at the same time ever since, was actually the prince, the future king, of the kingdom where she lived.

Kento had always been polite and kind to her, always willing to listen and talk about anything. He was already the man of every girl's dreams, and now that she knew his status, it had only been confirmed ⸻ but Y/n didn't want him because of his status

However, apparently he would only remain in her dreams...

The next day, Y/n went back to her routine as if the night before had never happened. She woke up early, prepared the food, took care of the animals in the stable, cleaned the house... Nothing was different, except for her memories and the hidden crystal slipper.

When her step-sisters finally gave her a break and spared her from hearing about the men who had danced at the ball and how a young girl in a blue dress had dared to go straight to the prince after setting foot in the ballroom, Y/n headed for the attic.

In the afternoon, she would go to the forest as usual to meet Kento. The young woman wasn't sure if he would show up that afternoon, but she hoped with all her heart that he would be waiting for her among the trees. As he always did.

As soon as she opened the door to her room, the young woman noticed that some floors were out of place, and when she noticed that her memory box was out of its hiding place, her heart began to beat fast and her palms began to sweat with nervousness.

"Is this what you were looking for?" Tremaine's voice startled Y/n, but her fear was soon replaced by surprise when she saw the slipper in her hand. "Oh dear, don't look so scared. I'm only going to ask you once. From whom did you steal it?"

"I didn't steal it from anyone, it was given to me!"

"Given to you? Oh, for heaven's sake, nothing is ever given, especially to someone like you!"

"I swear it was a gift!"

"So you're going to insist on the lie?" Tremaine let out a bored sigh and walked to the attic exit, tapping Y/n on the shoulder on the way, "Good thing you'll have plenty of time to think... Oh oops!" The woman slammed the crystal slipper into the door frame, shattering it into a thousand pieces.

Y/n's eyes filled with tears as she saw the shattered shoe on the floor, barely noticing Tremaine lock the door. The young woman knelt down and picked up each shard, feeling the tears blur her vision. The first gift she had received after so many years was broken and there was nothing that could fix it. Now only the memories remained.

Y/n sighed, wiped the tears from her eyes with her hands and sat down by the window. She had nowhere else to go, she wouldn't be meeting with Kento like she used to. The only thing she had left were her animal friends to keep her company.

Not long after, the door to the attic was opened, frightening the young woman ⸻ she swore that Tremaine would lock her in there for days, or perhaps just until the next day. But she was soon surprised to see a palace guard instead of her stepmother.

"Miss, please come with me.”

Without saying a word, Y/n followed him down the stairs to the living room. When she reached the living room, she noticed a figure she knew well. His clothes were in perfect condition, with no wrinkles or stains, his blond hair was perfectly styled with not a single strand out of place, and his posture was upright and impeccable. There was no doubt that Nanami Kento was a perfect prince.

"Your Royal Highness," Y/n said, bowing.

"I thought we agreed to treat each other without formalities, Y/n." Nanami turned, his serious expression relaxing slightly as he met the bright eyes of the young woman before him.

"Forgive me." Y/n murmured shyly.

"When you ran away during the ball and didn't show up in the forest as usual, I thought maybe I had disappointed you by revealing my true identity as the prince. I thought maybe I should give you some space, but I couldn't. Your name is engraved on my heart, and you are the only thing that crosses my mind every moment I breathe in and out. Every day I looked forward to seeing you for even a few seconds in the forest, and when you didn't show up today, I felt like my world was about to fall apart. I looked for you all over the kingdom, I went from house to house looking for the owner of the lost crystal slipper, I went to the edge of the forest looking for you. I love you, most ardently. I'm yours with or without the crown". Nanami approached Y/n and held her hand to his chest, making the young woman feel his heart beat faster.

"But Nanami, I'm just a simple farmer's girl, and as much as my heart wants to throw myself into your arms and give myself completely, I don't know if I'm suited for such a responsibility."

"A wise woman once told me that we must rule our own hearts. Please come with me and I will be yours forever.”

"Eternally mine? That doesn't sound so bad..." Y/n murmured, her heartbeat calming down to a feeling that was too good to be true.

"So, what do you say?" Kento smiled slightly.

"I'll be yours, any way you want.”

Then Nanami, overcome by the heat of the moment, passionately kissed the woman of his dreams. The kiss was calm, there was no need to rush, it was tender and addictive.

Y/n smiled as they moved away from each other and felt Kento place something in her hand. The young woman looked down at her hand, noticing the missing pair of her crystal shoes.

"You... you found them," she looked at the shoe in her hands, "I don't have the other pair."

"I can have a thousand crystal shoes made if you want." Nanami said with a serious face, showing that he wasn't joking.

"That won't be necessary." Y/n laughed at his lover's expression. "It's just a reminder that that magical night wasn't just a nice dream."

Kento smiled slightly and hugged Y/n tightly. Finally, after a long time, the girl he had always dreamed of, the girl who had always made his heart race, she would finally be by his side forever, there would be no need for him to run off into the forest, because she would already be within reach.

© seonghrtz, 2024. all rights reserved, please do not copy / steal / translate / modify any of my works !

[her-power]

just for tonight (Joseph Quinn x fem reader / one shot) 18+

warnings: adorable as well as smutty. I guess that sums it up!

summary: this is a one shot based on an interesting dream I had involving JQ & myself & a casino. my hyper-fixation heart couldn’t help it and wanted to turn it into a story. enjoy!

a/n: a new Eddie Munson series is in the works & fixation on the darkness II is in brainstorm mode!

word count: 2k? Maybe? I don’t know, I didn’t use my word document for this one lol

You wished you didn’t agree to go to this bachelorette party. You weren’t even in the wedding party but your friend who was a bridesmaid begged you to come because she couldn’t stand the maid of honor. Most Saturday nights you spent lounging on your couch with your cats, and a book on your lap. You felt like a grandma, but you were trying to be a good friend. The bride was in her early twenties, the rest of the party were in their mid twenties. You and your friend were the only ones who were thirty.

You really hated staying out late. It was almost 11 o’clock, you were sitting alone at the bar in the casino of the hotel you had to book. The bridal party wanted to head out to the next town to a bar that closed at 2am, that’s where you draw the line, you’d rather get drunk by yourself and then drag yourself to your hotel room. You were on your second tequila sunrise, which is a lot for you, playing candy crush on your phone, feeling eyes on you from drunk men who would walk by, preying on you. You could never take a compliment but you were pleased with how you looked tonight. A lightweight black mid sleeve dress adorned your curvy figure, went down to your ankles and had two slits up both sides of your legs. The bodice had a cut out diamond shape, exposing some of your sternum below your breasts. You didn’t wear a bra, the tie front of the bodice supported the girls delicately. You had finished your drink, and one magically appears in front of you.

You glance up at the bartender through your eyelashes. “I didn’t order that.” You say kindly.

“No, but the gentleman across the way did.” She tells you with a smirk and you glance behind her. Your breath hitches and butterflies fill your stomach; the most beautiful brown eyes stare back at you, smiling sweetly at you, holding up his glass as a hello. You have to close your mouth, you couldn’t believe someone as handsome as him had bought you a drink, and you couldn’t shake how familiar he looked to you. You clear your throat, digging through your wallet for a ten dollar bill, you hold it up, giving him a questioning, awkward smile. Casino drinks were way too over priced unless you were gambling. He laughs, and your nerves come back as he gets up from his seat and walks around the bar towards you. You rub your sweaty palms on your knees, your leg begins to bop uncontrollably as you feel his presence stand next to you.

You don’t look at him right away, but after giving yourself a little pep talk, remembering what your grandma said about men, you look up at him with a smile.

“I don’t want your money, love.” He’s English, his voice is nice, soft with a bit of a rasp. You realize you’re staring and laugh awkwardly, looking away and he smiles back at you, his cheeks dimpling.

“These drinks are way too overpriced.” You say quietly. “Please, take it.”

You move the bill towards him but he places his hand over yours, crumpling the bills under your hand and gently moves it away. You sigh, shaking your head, placing the money back in your wallet. “Okay, if you can afford it.”

“I can…I suppose.” He laughs softly.

You meet his eyes again, you were definitely a little drunk because you still couldn’t place why he was so familiar to you.

“May I sit?” He asks you and you nod. He slides on the bar stool next to you, his knee grazes yours slightly and you swear you can feel a current shoot down to your lower belly.

“Why did you buy me a drink?” You ask, a blush rising to your cheeks. “I mean, I look pretty pathetic, sitting alone at a bar while her friends are off galavanting somewhere else.”

He grins, perfect teeth. “I think you look pretty beautiful.”

You swallow a nervous laugh. “Oh.”

He cringes and chuckles. “I know, that was lame. I’m sorry.”

“Not lame, I just don’t know how to take a compliment.” You laugh, taking a swig off the drink. “It’s also my choice to sit alone at a bar. I didn’t feel like staying out til two a.m.”

“Ooof. Let me guess, bachelorette party?” He sips his own drink, leaning his head on his palm as he looks at you. You nod, taking another swig. “You seem nervous.”

“Nah.” You laugh a little too loudly and he stifles a giggle. “I’m just…I’m not used to…this. I mean…you’re just…I could just be drunk but, you’re insanely handsome.”

He rolls his eyes. “Oh stop.”

“You can’t take a compliment either!” You laugh, nudging his shoulder. You were loosening up, and part of you thinks it’s his calm energy, and obviously mixed with the alcohol.

Realizing you had knocked back your entire drink, you do the logical thing and order another one. The two of you got to talking, mostly about favorites, why he was there alone, if he gambled and if he had a favorite late night snack. He said his name was Joseph, or Joe. You had turned your body closer to his, the slit of your dress had fell down just the right way so your leg was exposed. You caught him subtly glancing that direction, a blush creeping up on his cheeks when he realized you saw him looking. You clear your throat, glancing at the time on your phone. It was after midnight.

Call it a night and get his number.

Invite him upstairs.

Listen to your grandma.

Invite him upstairs.

“Do you like scrabble?” You ask him, smiling at the silliness of the question.

“Like the game? Yeah…why?” He laughs.

“I have travel scrabble in my room and free alcohol. Whoever loses has to order dominoes.” You grin, your head was foggy but you weren’t that drunk where you couldn’t make consensual decisions.

“Okay, shouldn’t take long for me to win.” He winks at you and you roll your eyes. You both pay your respective tabs and exit the casino, the two of you walk towards the elevator but you stop, leaning on his shoulder for support, unbuckling your heels and sighing with relief before stepping in the elevator. “I don’t know how you ladies do it with the heels.” He laughs.

“Worst. Nightmare.” You groan, tossing the heels into a nearby trash can. He raises his eyebrows and smirks, you catch his look and laugh. “$3 at savers. I have other shoes.”

“Just checking.” He giggles, letting you on the elevator first. You press the button to the 14th floor and he lets out a laugh.

“Your hotel is on the 14th floor? What do you know, so is mine.”

You give him a mock shock face. “Must’ve been fate!” Yeah, you were drunk.

“Oh shush.” He laughs, shaking his head. You had moved yourself closer to him by accident, you were beginning to sway, but he didn’t seem to mind when your hand lightly touches his and he places his hand gently on your lower back as the elevator doors open. You fumble with your purse, trying to find the keycard, weeble wobbling your way towards your room. You see the number for 1457 and hover at the door.

“Well, this just got even more interesting.” You look up at him curiously and he point to the room across the hall. “That’s my room.”

“No it’s not.” You say, genuinely shocked this time. He gives you a smile, taking his keycard out of his pocket, going up to the door and sliding it in the slot. It lights up green and he opens the door like he just did a magic trick.

“I think you’re stalking me.” You say, finally finding the keycard and sliding it in the door. You push open the door, turning on the lights and tossing your purse on floor. He follows you in, shutting the door and locking it behind you.

“I believe, darling. That you’re the one stalking me.” He grins, his body very close to yours you could feel the heat radiating off of him. His hand reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and you shudder.

“Scravel. Trabble. Oh my god. TRAVEL SCRABBLE.” You cackle and quickly move away from him, you didn’t know why, he was definitely about to kiss you. You could feel his eyes on you as you dig through your luggage to find the game, you look up at him and suddenly feel shy. “What?”

“Nothing.” He smiles, leaning against the wall. “You’re just adorable to look at.”

Heat rises to your cheeks, and you bite your lower lip, going back to searching for the game. He takes the bottle of red wine on the table and pours it into two plastic cups. You laugh when he hands it to you after finding the game.

“Classy.” You grin and clink your cup against his. You both sip the wine and you jump onto the bed, opening scrabble and sitting criss cross apple sauce. He sits across from you, placing the cup on the nightstand next to the phone.

You hand him his letters and the two of you sit silently as you move around the tiles.

Que.

Quest.

Tech.

He makes a word that is just jumbled letters.

“That’s not a word.” You tell him.

“It so is a word!” He laughs.

“LEK is not a word!”

“Google it.” He smirks coyly at you.

You narrow your eyes at him and open your phone, you let out a laugh. “LEK is a basic monetary unit of Albania?! There’s no way you knew that!”

“Are you upset with me for knowing unknown words?” He leans towards you, smiling. “I mean, I can order us the pizza.”

Your breath hitches, he’s so close to you, your knees are almost touching. Your eyes dart from his lips to his eyes, your heart was racing. In one swift arm motion, you launch scrabble off the bed, taking him by his shoulders and wrapping your legs around his middle.

“Fuck the pizza.” You say, before crashing your lips against his. His arms are strong as they wrap around your waist and you straddle him. His hand moves up your leg, to your thigh, gripping the muscle as he moves his way on top of you, his tongue sliding delicately in your mouth. You grip his hair in your fist, he moans softly against your mouth, your hands pull his dress shirt out of his pants and glide up his smooth back. He pulls away from your lips, kissing your neck softly, in between your covered breasts. Your eyes flutter close when you feel him slide down towards your waist and he scoots back on his stomach, massaging your calves. You lean up on your elbows, and watch as he moves the slit of your dress to the side. He leans forward but you stop him with the base of your foot against his forehead and he laughs.

“I don’t normally do something like this.” You tell him, swallowing hard.

He gently moves your foot away, resting it on his shoulder. “I don’t either.” He gently kisses your calf. “We don’t have to…”

“No, no…I want to.” You smile shyly. “I just don’t want you to think I’m the kind of woman that will…”

He moves back up to you, your leg going with him, draping over his shoulder. He cups your face, runs his thumb along your lips. “I don’t think you’re that kind of woman.”

You smile, lifting your face up to kiss him gently. He smiles into your kiss, sliding his way back down in between your legs. Your heart races, feeling him pulling you towards him by your thighs, your knees bend and your head falls back against the pillow as he leaves soft kisses on your inner thighs. You feel his fingers dance gently along the straps of your underwear and you lifts your hips as he pulls them off slowly. He looks up at you through his eyelashes and grins. He looked so sexy. You could honestly come by just his look alone.

“You are very, very beautiful.” He says softly, and his face disappears. You gasp softly when you feel his lips kiss close to your sex, and your back immediately arches when his lips wrap around your clit and he sucks. You grip the blanket beneath you, a moan escaping your lungs.

“Ohhh…” You moan loudly, your hands fists his hair as he swirls his tongue in circles, licking you delicately and kneading at your thighs. You could already feel your orgasm building, but this was just…too fucking good. You didn’t want it to stop. You bite your bottom lip, your tummy muscles clench as your orgasm screams out of you and your back arches. He continues to eat you up, burying his face deeper as you continue to come.

He lifts his face, wiping his lips and smiles, you catch your breath, leaning up to catch his lips. You tasted yourself, and that made you crave him more. He holds your face with his soft hands and you move on top of him, ripping the buttons of his shirt open. He groans softly as you pull away from his lips and kiss his chest, moving your tongue in long stripes across his torso and move your lips down to his hips. You unzip his pants, kissing him gently on the sensitive skin on his pelvis and he shivers, letting out a soft gasp. Your eyes widen as you expose him, questioning whether or not you could fit this in your mouth. You kiss the tip gently and he moans, letting out a laugh of pleasure as you take him entirely into your mouth. He pulls gently at your hair as you swirl your tongue around the head, moving your fist up and down. His head hangs over the bed as he breathes heavily, you watch his chest rise and fall.

He gasps. “I want…I want to feel you.” You lift up your head and he sits up, taking your face, kissing your swollen lips. You shiver, more butterflies settling in your tummy and he watches as you lift your dress above your head. You instinctively shield yourself and he stands up, smiling at you, taking off the rest of his clothes. His hands gently go to your arms and he rubs his palms against your soft skin. You blush as he pulls your arms away from your chest, his eyes scan your body and he meets your gaze. He gives you another sweet smile, leaning forward to kiss you gently, you wrap your arms around his shoulders to deepen the kiss and he kneads at your waist. He cups your ass, lifting you up to the picture wjndow ledge and he stands between your legs. You pull away from his mouth, smiling shyly.

“Condom?” You ask him. He smiles, nodding and going into his jacket pocket. You laugh almost.

“What?” He chuckles as he places the rubber over his erection. “I’m a gentleman. I’m never gonna assume.”

Your heart does a pitter patter, you swear you could see yourself falling in love with this man. He cups your cheek, kissing you deeply and you open your legs wider for him. He hooks your leg around his waist and stares into your eyes. He slowly slides into you and you gasp, your head falling back against the window with a thud. He lets out a sharp breath, gripping your thighs as he pushes himself deeper. He kisses your neck, thrusting into you faster and his lips catch your hardened nipple in his mouth.

“Mmmm…ohhhh…fuuuck…” You’re surprised at your own sounds, how insanely pornographic they sound and you moan even louder when he grunts loudly.

You pull his face towards yours, biting his lower lip and he holds onto the window for support, rocking his hips faster and faster. You whimper and he picks you up, still inside you and kissing you passionately as you both collapse on the bed. You place your leg on his shoulder and he kisses your calf, holding your leg to him as he moves, his other hand reaching to cup your breasts. You place your own hands through your hair, grazing up your body, the pleasure you were getting from him was making you see colors. His moves become a little ragged, and you can tell he’s getting close.

“Kiss me.” You moan, another orgasm building fast. He does as he is told, slipping his tongue in your mouth, thrusting harder and deeper. Your nails claw at his back, and he grunts loudly as you clench around his cock, screaming so loud you’re positive the whole building heard you. He comes hard seconds after you, his moans full of raw, raspy intensity. You hold him close to you, caressing his damp hair as you catch your breath. He lifts his face up to look at you and kisses you softly. You smile against his lips and he gently pulls out of you. He sighs, resting his head on your chest.

“I don’t mean to put a damper on this wonderful night…but I really have to pee.” You laugh and he chuckles against your chest, moving off of you. You hop off the bed, grabbing a pair of shorts and a t shirt from your luggage and rush into the bathroom, after doing your business you tidy yourself up and brush your teeth. When you exit the bathroom, Joseph is sitting with his ankles crossed in a t-shirt and sweatpants. You had forgotten his room was across the hall.

He smiles sweetly at you and you smile back, crawling next to him in the bed. He cradles you against his chest, gently running his fingers through your hair.

“Question game?” He says with a laugh and you nod.

“Okay, where did you grow up?”

You suddenly felt a pit in your stomach. Talking about home opened wounds that were still healing, but you answer him anyway. “Massachusetts.”

“With parents and siblings?” His finger dances gently around your shoulder.

“No siblings, just my parents.” You sigh. “Only child.”

“Me too.” He chuckles. “Where are your parents now?”

Fuck. Here comes the most awkward interaction in the world. He feels you tense up but doesn’t say anything. “…you don’t have to answer that, love. I’m sorry if it’s a touchy subject.”

“No.” You laugh awkwardly. “It’s not, it’s just…what I’m about to tell you usually makes people feel uncomfortable and word vomit which makes me want to crawl into a hole, but I don’t think you’re that kind of person.”

You feel his eyes on you and you glance up at him, he was really listening to you. “My dad lives in a one bedroom apartment with his dog Felix in Boston. And…my mom…she died when I was seventeen.” His hold on you tightens and he gently caresses your face, moving his face closer to yours to stare into your eyes.

“Tell me about her.” He says softly and tears immediately spring to your eyes. You have never had someone say that to you, not even your loved ones, let alone a stranger.

So, you tell him. You tell him how she was the funniest woman on planet earth. How she could quote some memorable movies using their voices and would go out of her way to make a person laugh. How much she loved you. How angry you were when she died. How you hope to never scream like that again in your life. How sometimes you wish you could go back, and take her place.

You feel his lips on your cheeks, kissing your tears away, you didn’t even realize you had been crying.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry, this is embarrassing.” You laugh, wiping your face.

“Don’t ever apologize for talking about an important person like her. She sounds like a lovely woman.” He rubs your cheeks. “She made one hell of a daughter.”

You laugh softly, pressing your forehead against his. “How is it possible I meet a perfect stranger at a casino and I still have no idea who you are?”

He laughs and sighs. “Well…do you know Metallica?” He almost blushes and you stare into his eyes, confusion on your face.

Then you realize.

Holy.

Fucking.

Shit.

Holy. Shit.

You gasp loudly, launching yourself back from him, your body falling off the bed as he tries to grab you and you land on your back. You let out a laugh.

“Are you telling me…no, no, no, hold on. Hold on.” You meet his eyes and he’s stifling a laugh but also looks horrified. “Joseph…Joseph…Quinn? Who played Eddie Munson? Are you…me? Me?!”

You lean up on the edge of the bed, staring straight into his eyes, he looks like a lost puppy and your heart skips a beat. “If you want me to leave, I will leave. I know it’s a lot; I do, but…I felt something as soon as I looked into your eyes. I can’t explain it…but I understand if you don’t want me here.”

You stare at him, leaning closer to him, your hands grab his face. You gently run your hands over his cheeks, his lips, studying him more. “No…I want you to stay.”

He lets out a sigh. “Really?”

You smile largely. “Right now, you’re just the handsome man who bought me a drink at a bar, who made me laugh and listened to me talk about the worst day of my life. You left no hints, you were just you. Just for tonight, and forever, that’s who you are to me. Just Joseph.”

He smiles, grabbing your hand, his cheeks dimpling, and you kiss him.

Boy, do you kiss him.

Fin.

[dreamerschroniclesofstories]

Clementina pt1

A/N: hello! This is my first fic and hopefully you enjoy it. It was originally just a one shot fanfic but I didn’t realise how long it was going to be so I’m thinking it will be at least two parts but if you want it be a full series of how the Shelby’s adjust to clementina then just let me know! And if you already gathered, this is based after the scene in season 5 ep3 when Tommy and Polly visit the nuns at st Hilda’s. Hope you enjoy!. I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR YOU TO REPOST THIS ON OTHER WEBSITES AND TRANSLATION OF THIS FIC.

Summery: the Shelby family are in for a shock when they find out they have a sister hiding in plain sight. pt2: pt3: pt4

Word count: 1,567

The early sunrise fills the Shelby manor, the home of Thomas Shelby and his son is strangely quiet considering it is nearing six am on a Saturday. Commonly, the maids would have Charlie up and having his breakfast by now. however, the only noise filling the silence was the ticking of the small clock on the wall behind Tommy's desk in his office. Inside the office, sat Tommy and his aunt, Polly. accompanying the pair were five piles of old folders sitting on Tommy's desk and on the floor beside Polly's discarded handbag, which she placed there no less than seven hours ago. these folders currently hold the information of the young girls who resided in St Hilda's orphanage.

Two days prior, the aunt and nephew visited the nun-owned orphanage after Tommy had received a concerning report, from a young girl who recently left the care of St Hilda's after turning 18, about abuse that was occurring within the walls of the orphanage. after the rushed meeting, Tommy stopped the funding he was providing and Polly requested the folders of every girl in their care so they could place them into new orphanages ran by the Grace Shelby foundation. Tommy and Polly didn't expect was the folders arriving two hours before midnight and there to be nearly three hundred folders. they knew the orphanage was overrun but not that much. For the past seven hours, the pair had been reading and placing the folders into different piles for the different orphanages that they were going to place the girls in. Most of them were in Birmingham but the occasional one was in London or Manchester.

They were getting close to finishing, having only a handful left to read. this allowed Tommy to have another smoke break. he stood by the double-glazed windows, staring out to the fields watching as his horses walked around slowly and ate freshly cut grass. the room was still quiet, except for the reoccurring sound of Tommy blowing out smoke and inhaling every few seconds. However, the sound of Polly gasping under her breath catches Tom's attention, making him turn around, “Thomas” the middle-aged woman whispered, “You need to see this” she states, her voice full of shock.

Tommy frowns as he walks back towards his desk, “ what is it, ey?” he questions curiously, the newly light cigarette hangs from between his lips.

“Just read it Thomas” she sighs, Polly begins to bite her nails. a habit she does when she is stressed. Tommy opens the folder and begins to read the information, which was written in a hurry because the handwriting was messier than the others.

Tommy was confused at Polly's reaction, to him this was just another folder detailing information about an unwanted little girl placed into the orphanage five years ago. that was until he read the section about her parent....he slams the folder down on his desk and puts his cigarette out into his ashtray, he rubs his hand down his face, a sign he was stressed “ fucking hell” he grumbles, staring at the folder.

“ fucking hell indeed” Polly agrees, watching her nephew across from her “It seems you have a kid sister, out there Thomas” She shakes her head in disbelief, she knew Arthur Shelby Sr was known to sleep around but she did not expect to have another Shelby stuck in this world because of him. Polly grabs the folder again and begins to re-read it.“ another fucking Shelby” Polly chuckles under her breath, Tommy was quiet as he thinks about what they should do. he knew that it wasn't a good idea to bring her into the world of crime that the family were involved in but he knew Polly wouldn't let him leave her in the care of an orphanage.

Tommy suddenly stands up, grabbing his jacket “Pol, ring around, tell everyone to be here in three hours” he demands, walking out of the office not telling Polly where he was going and he didn't give her the time to ask either because he was out of the house and into his car in the record time of three minutes.

By the time everyone was around the Shelby manor, Tommy was back from wherever he left. He walks into his office. Polly was sitting on the chair was was sitting on earlier, Ada was sitting on the leather seat by the bookshelf with Karl standing beside her. Arthur was standing by the windows with Finn beside him. They were all waiting impatiently for him

“ thank fuck for that, thought you'd never turn up” Arthur states annoyedly. His hands are in his pockets.

Ada rolls her eyes at Arthur’s language “What’s the emergency that made you wake me and Karl up at six in the morning?” She questions Tommy.

Tommy walks over to his desk, pulling out a cigarette from his pocket “Me and Pol have been sorting through the orphan girls' files” he explains, sitting down at his desk.

Finn frowns “And what’s that got to do with any of us?” No one answers him, he was allowed to come to meetings but he isn’t allowed to contribute to them

Tommy lights his cigarette and inhales then exhales smoke before he begins to talk again “There’s a girl, who might be of interest to us” he looks towards Polly.

Polly smiles slightly “Her names clementine, nine years old” she explains, looking around at the Shelby siblings.

Ada shakes her head “Why would a little girl be of interest to you Thomas” She narrows her eyes slightly, feeling suspicious of Tommy.

Tommy rolls his eyes slightly and leans back into his chair “Her mother died when she was four, she was left with her drunken father, who lasted three months before he dropped her off at St Hilda’s” he repeated what he read in the file, three hours prior.

Pol sighs “ for god's sake Thomas, just tell them” she demands irritated, she sits up straight “Her fathers name is Arthur Shelby sr” she announces. The atmosphere in the office quickly changed, you could hear a pin drop from how quiet it became. Arthur coughs and runs his hand through his hair, confused as fuck as to what was happening.

Ada stands up and walks closer to Tommy's desk “We have a sister? And she’s still in that orphanage after what you found out” she states, taking the folder from Tommy's hand as soon as he takes it out of the drawer in his desk. She shakes her head and walks back over to her seat.

Tommy pours himself a glass of whiskey “Me, Arthur and Polly are going back to the orphanage to get her” he explains.

Arthur frowns “We are? Linda wants me back for dinner” he explains, shifting from his left foot to his right foot, his body language showing he was nervous since he knew what his family thought of Linda.

Polly grumbles “ I’m sure she can wait” she states, her voice filled with venom as she looks towards Arthur “We are saving a little girl from abuse” She stands up and walks over to Arthur “Not just a little girl, your sister, a Shelby”.

[e-nonsense]

─── 𝘴𝘰 𝘐’𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺

pairing. littleprince!jason todd x witch!reader

summary. royal au. insane, you were crazy and jason loved you for it. so if you were willing to wage war on gotham he was more than ready to stand by you. (previous part)

warnings. pet names: little pet, darling. depictions of witchcraft, war/violence (medieval), death, declaration of war

a/n. picture above is what i imagine the described ‘castle’ to be. lmao the lore has expanded

wc. 1.4k not proofread.

The doors to the castle slammed open, creating a loud echoing noise that startled everyone in the vicinity. Knights were on guard, stepping in front of the royal family as maids scrambled away.

At the door stood a group of strangely dressed people, with pointy ears and purple eyes shining dangerously, and in the centre stood you. Fingers clenched around your blade, as you stepped forwards.

“How dare you,” your voice echoed dauntingly , cold and icy, eyes filled with venom as you stared straight at Bruce. “You killed a child, Wayne.”

Bruce merely scoffed, “that was no child. The one with scales and a tail? A monster.” Eyes flickering to the limp body carried in the arms of the tall beast behind you.

“I warned you, one foot out of line and that is it.” You reply, John’s eyes snap to you, a sense of dread settling in his stomach.

“Kid—” the older man whispered, cutting himself off at the sight of your eyes.

“Then mark today the end of peace,” you speak, hood falling off, your hair streaked with gold. “I’ve tried to keep peace, but ever since your father’s reign my people have not known peace.”

Jason stood to his father’s left, looking between you and Bruce.

“From this day forth, neither will yours.” Just as those words are spoken screams and the smell of smoke come from afar.

“No,” Bruce mutter, eyes widening as he rushes past people and you to look outside at the village of innocent people and a large blue dragon spitting black fire onto the village.

“Stop— stop this madness.” Bruce hisses, grabbing you by the collar, hissing as he feels his hand burn at the touch. “Impure, stop it.”

You only laugh at him, eyes filled with madness as your people stand behind you protecting you from the knights, “my madness has only just begun.”

—

“You’re sure about this?” Nicola, a young siren asked, her head peeping out of the water. “If you’re sure we’ll help,” she adds.

“I’m tired of standing by and letting our people die,” you murmur, eyes downcast, staring at the young mer-children swimming around the large lake that leads out to the ocean.

“Then we’re with you, I’ll tell my father of your decision. We’ll keep them off the water.” She reassures, placing a gentle hand on your knee. “Thank you for fighting for us.” She whispers before ducking under the water and swimming off, the younger merpeople swimming after her.

You stood up, boots making a satisfying click against the wooden pier as you walked towards the forest to warn the creatures that lived there of the oncoming war.

“You declared war?” The old centaur asked, he knew you weren’t one to resort to violence.

“I was fueled by my rage, Chiron.” You mutter, “you didn’t see it. They killed him because he looked different. His mother, you didn’t see it, the cries and screams. But i understand if you want to leave.”

Chiron nods in understanding, placing a hand on your shoulder, “its okay.”

“If any of the others want to leave be by the statue at sunrise tomorrow. We’ll be sending those who don’t want to fight away, but if you decide to stay go to the mountain tops, the council is being reforged.”

He nodded, looking past the trees to the beautiful large abandoned castle sitting atop the mountain, a bridge built around it that allowed the water to fall freely off the mountain.

“I’ll tell them, save me a seat at your council.” He smiles before heading back, deeper into the forest.

—

Your fingers quivered with unease, stepping onto the abandoned land, the castle preserved with your ancestors magic, the magical pushed back against your touch, the magic only sensed as if it were a sixth sense for you.

You placed your hands firmly against the invisible wall, fingers glowing gold as your magic illuminated the barrier in gold before the gold shattered against your palms, sparks of ashy magic, over a thousand years old falling to pieces. The preservation spell destroyed.

Other mythical creatures watched in awe as the stone dragon in the courtyard cracked, revealing the golden scales beneath it and a pair of beady gold eyes as its wing shot out and everyone stumbled back as the dragon growled. It’s eyes locking on you and it steps forward, leaning its head down to look at you curiously before nudging your body with its enormous head and growling again.

Chiron chuckled, recognising the dragon from a thousand years ago. “You waited for her,” he muttered curiously, watching as the dragon nudged you again.

Her. By her, the old centaur didn’t mean you. No he meant the warrior from a thousand lives ago. Reborn time and time again. Even death wouldn’t be able to seperate friends like them.

The dragon grumbled, acting more like a puppy than a beast as it pushed you forward to the castles grand gold doors.

“This way?” You raise a brow as the dragon leads you past the courtyard to the large doors, the dragon huffs , nudging the doors to open them for you.

The interior of the palace is dark, not a spec of dust fallen anywhere, floors marble floors cracked and filled in with gold. And the walls painted grey. The people gathered behind you, gaping at the infrastructure with wonder.

“Let’s get started.”

—

War plans. Planning for war. Murder. Bloodshed. Jason. Sleep escaped you, your friends all tucked away around the castle. Snoozing away as you continued to stare at the papers in front of you.

So far your search for a plan was coming back with nothing. Dragons, sure. What would the humans do? Shoot them down with their monstrous contraptions.

The sirens? Pirates have been hunting them for years, nets and fire would do to easily kill them. Fairies and pixies, squashed like bugs. Witches, hunted like animals.

“Thought you’d be asleep by now, but I should’ve known better than to assume you’d actually sleep.” A voice cuts out, causing you to snap your head up, the air leaving your lungs as you feel yourself fall apart finally.

“Jason,” I whisper softly. Standing up and barrelling into his arms, the bigger man barely moving as you do so.

“Hey sweetheart,” he mumbles, kissing the top of your head. His arms wind around your hips, holding you against him, “my pretty, crazy sweetheart.” He teases.

“You came, I thought—” he cuts you off almost immediately.

“That I’d stay with Bruce and let him try and kill you?” Jason finishes, “hell no, baby. I’m on your side.. no matter how psycho your side might get.”

You chuckle at that, still not moving an inch out of his arms. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he whispers gently, a stark contrast to his usual brazen self. “What the hell is that?”

You hum, tilting your head to look at the dragon. “Ignore her, she’s possessive.” You mutter and Jason raises a brow sceptically, “uh huh..”

“Let’s go inside.. away from the creepy dragon.” Jason suggests, holding you tighter and pulling you inside, away from the balcony.

—

The morning started with an argument. Your friends and allies voicing their distrust in your human companion, irritating you further. “I trust him, and you trust me, no?” You question those around you, Jason stood protectively at your side. Murmurs of agreement followed your question, a few of them nodding. “Then believe me when i tell you he won’t betray us.” More grumbled responses followed.

“Lovely, now. We have a war to prepare for, and if we’re not ready lord knows what’ll happen.”

And so the war plan began, arguments ensued about the strategy.

You started with the plans for training the people for war, who would train each segment of creatures and what they’d teach. Then it was decided, that training would be spilt into groups of each magical being and each of them would learn how to work with each other. Because one mistake could cost the war.

The people here looked to you, for safety, hope, they looked at you like they were ready to put their lives in your hands and it scared you. Having so many people believe in you when you can’t believe in yourself.

“Breathe,” Jason whispers in your ear, his hand finding its way to your thigh. “Breathe with me, you’re not alone. Look around, we all stand with you.”

Jason presses a kiss against your jaw, “I’ll never leave your side again.”

© e-nonsense. do no copy/steal/translate. do it and I’ll bite your toes off

[flowersandbigteeth]

Hey sorry if this isn't your sorta thing but could I request a dragon that collects humans with special magic powers falling for reader?

I love this idea! Sorry it took me so long to get to this ^_^'

Dragon (Felix) x female reader

Word Count: 3k

W: yandere dragon behavior , some threats of violence, sfw fluff

Felix had dedicated his life to hunting the most miraculous humans, the most beautiful, the most powerful, the strongest, and the most magically inclined. He was fascinated with what made them tick. Humans shouldn’t naturally have magic. In his personal opinion, it was a bit of an abomination actually. Humans were meant to be servile, toiling around in the dirt with no wings or fins or fangs to protect them. That they should be dominated seemed to simply be the nature of things and he had no intention of fussing with that. 

No, really, what he had was morbid curiosity and perhaps nothing else to do. Dragons' lives were very long and they had few natural enemies. Felix was a scholar at heart and something drew him to collecting. Over the years he’d captured and tamed hundreds of powerful, talented humans. Some cooperated with his experiments and lived in relative luxury in his castle; others had far too much pride, in his opinion, and had to be locked away for everyone’s safety. 

Each one was more miraculous than the next. One man could draw fire from his hands like a fire fairy, but tests revealed he had no fire fairy blood in him. Another person could screech so loud they could break glass. Their vocal chords were fascinating to study. It seemed to be a totally natural phenomenon. 

Still, after years and years of collecting he hadn’t found…perhaps the human he was looking for? Something still drew him to scouring the planet looking for…something. So naturally, he was quite surprised when he found you simpering and sniffling in a corner of his castle with tears on your face. You were just a maid. You had no special magic, you weren’t exceptionally beautiful, and your biggest talent was that you could make a boiled egg better than any of the other kitchen staff. It came out perfect every time with your technique, but that was it. 

“Why are you crying little one?” he asked, perhaps because he was bored. Otherwise he would have probably walked right past you. He’d never noticed you before, though you’d worked in the kitchen peeling potatoes and boiling eggs for a few years. He’d had your famous boiled egg for breakfast every day for a long time without even knowing who cooked it. 

You lived in a small cottage near the castle and came to work in the kitchen every day from sunrise until everyone had their last meal. Then you hurried home to the safety and comfort of your old hay mattress. 

Our eyes filled with terror when you realised the master of the castle was talking to you and you quickly righted yourself, trying to rub the soup one of his talented humans had dumped on your head off of your face. 

“I-it’s n-nothing my lord,” you stammered, trying to slip past his huge form. 

He was just scraping nine feet tall, not including the silver horns emerging from his head. You tried not to let your eyes linger on the glittering scales that clung just above his cheekbones and along his jaw or his silver eyes. 

“Stop right there,” he said, grabbing your shoulder with his big hand and swinging you back around to face him, “answer honestly when your master asks you a question.” 

You blushed, unsure what to say. You didn’t want to tattle on Mira, the talented human who’d waited too long to eat her soup and threw a tantrum when it was cold hours after you’d delivered it. She was far more important and interesting than you, despite her temper. She could lift objects with her mind. You could boil an egg. You were not the same. 

“I need to get Miss Mira more soup,” you decided to say, ignoring the glob of meat that wetly slid out of your hair and smacked on the floor with a splat. 

“I-I’ll clean that up, right away,” you assured him, bending to wipe up the mess you were making with your apron. 

The dragon frowned looking you up and down and tapping his chin. There was something about you that he liked. He wasn’t exactly sure what. You certainly weren’t remarkable and you looked a mess covered in red soup with bits of vegetables and meat in your hair. Regardless, he was curious about you. 

“Do you have running water at home?” he asked. 

You blinked and looked up at him for a moment, before catching yourself and looking back down to the soupy footprints you were trying to mop up. 

“Erm…no my lord, only the castle and the merchant’s manors have piped water,” you explained. 

You were not looking forward to hauling bucket after bucket of cold water to your bath to wash all of the food out of your hair when you got home. Only the rich could afford the metal pipes and enchantments that would bring warm water indoors. 

He grunted down at you.

“Come with me,” he said simply, turning on his heels and marching down the hall. 

You didn’t know what else to do, he was your boss, so you shuffled after him. 

“My lord, perhaps I should get another maid to help you,” you said apprehensively as he led you into his personal quarters and bathroom. You hovered uncomfortably at the door, wondering what he wanted you to clean while covered in soup. You were making an even bigger mess wandering around the castle dripping wet. 

“Don’t move an inch,” he said over his shoulder as he started the tap. 

You started to tremble, unsure what was going on. This was highly unusual, working in the kitchen you hardly ever saw the master. Nothing good could come of him bringing you to his personal quarters. You had no romantic illusions about some noble lord taking an interest in you. You’d seen maid after maid chewed up by the male talents Lord Felix had in the castle. They went through them and then tossed them away like toys, leaving them penniless, without a job, and heartbroken. All you wanted to do was come to work, do your work, and go home without being molested or covered in soup. 

You watched him pour a sweet smelling soap into the water that reminded you of the scent of peaches and made lots of bubbles. 

“Go ahead and undress,” he said, as he sprinkled some kind of salt as well. 

“No, my lord,” you said with fleeting confidence. 

You were an employee, not a toy. 

He turned to you and his eyebrows went up. He was handsome and very large, all things that were attractive to you, but you had some shame. 

“No?” he repeated, scoffing. 

“I don’t feel comfortable…” you said, your confidence waning. 

“You’d rather spend the day covered in stew?” he asked. 

You plucked a thread at your dress. 

“No, my lord, but…” 

He snickered at you as he crossed the room, looming over you and yanking the wool dress you were wearing over your head before you had a chance to fight him. 

“How do you plan on stopping me?” he teased you as he pulled the chaste white panties you were wearing off and removing the bra you had on. 

He wasn’t rough with you, but he also didn’t hide his strength, pinning you easily with one hand while the other worked on removing your clothes. 

“My lord!” you sputtered, “this isn’t fair!” 

He shrugged as he picked you up like you were just a kitten and carried you over to the bath water. 

“It really isn’t,” he agreed as he gently set you in it, “but such is the way of the world.” 

To your dismay he unceremoniously dumped a pitcher of warm clean water on your head so instead of fighting him you were busy wiping water out of your eyes. 

“That’s better isn’t it?” he asked drizzling a swirl of shampoo in your hair. 

This was probably the first time in your life you’d been fully immersed in warm water except maybe when you were an infant and the sensation was hard to pass up. It was warmer than you could ever get your water at home with just hot rocks heated in the fireplace and your skin felt smooth and soft from the salts he’d added. 

If you wanted to argue, you didn’t have a chance, because he was quickly scrubbing his large, strong fingers through your hair, massaging your scalp.

“Mmmm,” you hummed reflexively and he smiled, gathering a comb up to run it through your hair and remove all of the bits of vegetable matter. 

“So have I softened you up enough to tell me what happened?” he asked, as you let your eyes shut, leaning back against the smooth back of the tub. 

You tender bits were all covered in piles of bubbles, which eased your shyness. 

“Miss Mira just has a bit of a temper,” you mumbled in total bliss, the gentle scrape of the blunt comb on your skull relaxing and soothing years of built up tension, “nothing to be concerned with, my lord.” 

He chuckled at how a simple bath relaxed you and loosened your tongue, reminding himself to deal with Mira later. He didn’t tolerate badly behaved humans under his care, especially now that he’d taken an interest in you. No one would be dumping any food on you again under his watch. When he’d gotten you satisfactorily clean he pulled you from the tub and wrapped you in a fluffy towel, ringing the bell for another maid. When she arrived her eyes widened as she saw the condition you were in, shooting you a questioning look when Felix wasn’t looking. You shot back at her with a shrug and a pleading look indicating you had no idea what was going on either and begging her to do something, though neither of you had any idea what she could possibly do to save you. 

“Bring…” he glanced down at you to get your name but you kept your mouth shut tight. 

Frightened of angering the lord and to your dismay the other maid gave him your name quickly. He smiled. 

“Bring (Y/N) another dress, something pretty,” he said. 

“Yes, my lord,” she replied, tossing you an apologetic glance before she disappeared. 

“Now,” he mused, looking back at you with his finger tapping his chin, “there’s something about you…”

He lifted a lock of your hair, before smoothing his clawed fingers over the column of your neck. 

“You seem to be a normal human,” he murmured, “but I can’t seem to keep my eyes off of you…even for a moment, they are always drawn back to you…do you know why that is (Y/N)?” 

You quickly shook your head because you really had no idea. He picked you up and you stiffened in his arms as he carried you to his laboratory. Terrified, you tried to fight him when your eyes grazed over the bottled body parts he had lining his shelves. Of course it was hopeless, he was far too big and strong. 

“Don’t be so worried, little one,” he chuckled, “I have no intention of dissecting you. I’m only going to run a few tests.” 

He set you on his work table before producing what looked like a doctor’s kit. While you shivered in terror, odd drops of water dripping from your hair down your neck, he took some of your blood and tapped various pressure points with some kind of tool to stimulate your reflexes. 

You watched him hum and wrinkle his brow as he tried to sort out what made you so special, examining your blood sample under a microscope only to find your cells were perfectly average human cells. 

“I assure you, my lord, I’m just a normal human. There really is nothing unique about me,” you said when you’d calmed down enough to catch your breath. 

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he informed you curtly and you shrank back. 

There was a knock at the door and the maid appeared with a dress in your size. He took the dress, waving her away and carefully pulled it over your head, letting you slide your arms through the sleeves. To your surprise he very adeptly braided your hair and secured it with a pin.

“Follow me,” he said, pulling you down off of the high counter you were sitting on, onto the floor. 

He took you to the male’s quarters and with a shout gathered all of the male special humans from whatever they were occupying themselves with. 

“What do you think of this human?” he asked them, pointing to you. 

Most of them looked bored, while a few looked a bit interested. 

“She’s just a pretty girl,” one of them said. 

“Not that pretty,” another commented. 

“Yeah, she’s not really my type,” someone else said. 

“I think she’s pretty, in a sort of farm girl type of way…” someone piped in. 

“Hmm,” Felix said, pushing you behind him and considering the data he’d collected. 

For some reason, he didn’t like these males looking at you, assessing your attributes, even though that’s what he’d asked them to do. 

He led you back to his laboratory more confused than before. The males of the castle seemed to think you were a normal human. You didn’t have any sort of excessive seductive powers. So why did his heart flutter when his eyes met yours? Why were his hands sweating like he was just a schoolboy? While the other men seemed relatively ambivalent, when he looked at you, your skin seemed to glow and your smile made him want to press his lips against yours. 

“My lord, don’t you think I should get back to work?” you asked, hoping his curiosity was satisfied and he would let you go. 

“No,” he said, “you’re not to leave my side. I’m adding you to my collection.” 

You gasped. You did not want to be one of your master’s collection. You were a maid, an employee, not a doll! You didn’t know what else to do, so you ran…or at least tried to run, but you only got a few steps before he hauled you back to him. 

He pulled you up to his eye level and glared at you with his reptilian, golden eyes. 

“Do NOT do that again,” he snarled, curls of smoke leaking from his nose. 

The idea of you running away from him was infuriating. You were his. He was sure of it. 

“I don’t know what it is about you, but you will not get away from me. Try to run again and I will remove your legs,” he snapped. 

You nodded your head quickly, trembling in his arms. 

Pleased that you understood, he led you to the other side of the castle to find Mira. 

“Oh, hello Master Felix,” she cooed when he entered her room, batting her eyelashes at him, “I’m so pleased you’ve come to see me.” 

Her eyes focused on you in your fine dress and she frowned. 

“What’s she doing here, bringing me more cold soup?” 

Felix snorted and a small flame burst from his nose. 

“I’ve found a new use for your talents, Mira,” he informed her, “from now on you will work in the laundry washing linens…I think your skills can be useful to the other maids.”

He rang the bell in her room and a different maid appeared, her eyes popping at your dress. You gave her another confused shrug, before she had to turn her attention to your Master. 

“Bring Mira a maid’s uniform,” he spat and she hurried away. 

“You can’t be serious!” Mira shouted, various items in her room levitating around her, “I’m not a maid! I’m special!” 

“(Y/N) is special,” he said, glancing down at you, then back up at her, “you are nothing more than a biological anomaly that apparently needs to be put to more productive use.” 

While Mira shot daggers at you with her eyes, you tried to return her look with the most contrite, sympathetic face possible, but that didn’t stop the shower of hair brushes, hair pins, and makeup that came sailing in your direction with murderous intent. 

With a wave of his hand the sundry items dropped to the floor with a clatter, just before they reached you. 

“Try that again and you’ll be dissected and pickled,” Felix growled. 

Mira blanched and the maid returned with one of the plain wool dresses you used to wear. 

“Change and report to the laundry, the other maids will tell you what to do…if I see your face out of the laundry again there will be consequences,” he hissed, scooping you up like you were a treasure and carrying you from the room. 

You blinked up at Felix, feeling bad for Mira. You were an employee, you had the ability to go home, but Mira was a captive…and now a servant. 

“My lord,” you gasped, “are you sure you’re not being too harsh? I’m really nothing special…” 

His eyes sparkled and he chuckled at you. 

“That’s where you are wrong, my darling,” he said, “I think you are the human I’ve been looking for.” 

“Looking for?” you murmured. 

“Since I started this project of collecting humans I could never find the one that would sate my hunger for searching…but with you in my arms…I seem to have lost the desire to collect them at all…I would rather spend my time studying you.” 

You blinked at him and swallowed thickly. 

“I am not a doll…or a biological anomaly or whatever you said,” you pouted, using your last bit of pluck. 

He turned your face to him and his golden eyes searched yours. 

“That you are not,” he admitted with a smile that revealed his sharp teeth, “but you are still mine and I have no intention of letting you go. From now on you will be my companion.” 

You blanched. His companion? You weren’t sure you liked the sound of that, but there was nothing to be done about it if you wanted to keep your legs attached to your body. 

“Now,” he said with a sigh, smoothing his fingers over your soft cheek, “let’s have a nice day, shall we? No more silly attempts to escape and no more bowls of soup on your head, hmm?” 

Your heart fluttered a bit, you were unsure if it was from fear or interest, but you accepted his words with a nod as he carried you off to the garden to enjoy the sunshine and your new life.

[midnightstar16]

Aemond Targaryen x Reader (Chamber Maid)

Word count: 1.2k

You had just been appointed as the chamber maid of prince Aemond. The red keep was almost always short of staff so it had not been that big of a deal to anyone but you. You hadn’t really been working long enough to be qualified as a chamber maid so at first, it came as a bit of a shock.

To your delight, being Aemond’s chamber maid didn’t require you to interact with the prince himself. At dawn, he would leave for his morning drills with Ser Criston and you’d quickly finish your work then and leave. There was never much to do in his chambers for he kept them quite organised and in place. So, in order to keep you busy, you would be assigned to look after princess Helaena’s children.

You quickly bonded with them and they too, grew fond of you. You would take them to the palace gardens or play with them in princess Helaena’s rooms and more often than not, you would find the one-eyed prince present. You’d heard uncountable stories of him, most of them about how hideous he was, how no girl in court would ever be interested him. But when you first laid eyes on him in the gardens, you realised that all those people couldn’t have been more wrong and you would catch yourself stealing glances at him whenever you could. Sometimes he’d return the eye-contact and you would quickly look away in embarrassment.

Only after two weeks of cleaning Aemond’s chambers every day, you dared to pick up a candlestick and hold it against the wall of books that was there near the prince’s bed. Each shelf was divided by genre and each book laid out alphabetically. Even though you were of low status, you’d learned how to read as a child and never stopped since.

You knew the red keep had a library but it was available to few. To have found such a treasure at hand seemed like a gift of the gods. You quickly took out a book from the bottom shelf where you hoped he wouldn’t notice. It was small enough to fit in your pocket. With your heart beating against your chest, you rushed out.

When the prince entered his chambers after sunrise, he had almost instantly seen a book missing from his collections but when he saw that it had returned to its exact place 2 days later, Aemond knew it had been you. He had been made aware of his new chambermaid that he would often find stealing glances at him whenever she was assigned to look after his sister’s kids. You didn’t look at him the way others did, with horror and disgust but with a certain awe that Aemond quickly fell for. He would start finding excuses to be near the little Targaryens, to be near you. He loved the way you would look away, your cheeks turning red, the way you would laugh and smile, the way you kept your hair in a messy braid.

Once you were sure that the prince wasn’t seeing one of his books missing, you started taking more of them right after finishing the one before. You were always more than careful with the books, treating them as if they were worth more than the most expensive diamonds in Westeros and always made sure to keep them right back.

As more days passed by, you started getting more comfortable with your new life. You were starting to like it but you knew you could never actually ever approach prince Aemond with your growing feelings for him, and it hurt like a knife in the heart.

2 months had gone by and your life was going by smoothly. You followed your morning routine and entered Aemond’s chambers to quickly change the sheets and finish up with a bit of light dusting. But just as you would every 2-3 days, you first went to the bookshelf and kept your most recent read back on its place.

You held the candlestick up high and found a book that certainly piqued your interest. You stepped on your tip-toes and tried to reach for it but failed. Each time your hand barely even touched the book. Just as you were about to give up, you saw a hand from behind you take it. For a second your heart stopped for you knew who it was. You could feel his breath on your neck and it raised every strand of hair on your skin. You turned slowly, your back now resting on the bookshelf. You had never seen Aemond so up close and he was perfect. He was wearing a loose white cotton shirt which gave him a much more homely look. It’d seemed as if he had worn his eyepatch in a hurry, as if he was scared about what you would think. You looked into his eye and he in yours and you never wanted this moment to end. But it did, perhaps a lot later than it should have but a lot earlier than you’d preferred.

Ser Criston was out of the capital for some urgent business and Aemond had stayed behind in his chambers that morning. He’d actually been looking forward to seeing you in his chambers where he could talk to you without suspicion. The prince had gone as far as to even keep your favourite foods and drink ready but now that felt like it would be too much.

“My prince, I am so sorry! I never should’ve taken-“ you were cut off abruptly.

“ ‘The Hidden Mysteries of Qarth’,” the prince read out the title, “You have good taste, little thief.” The corners of his lips turned into a small smile. You had expected him to be absolutely furious but perhaps not.

“My prince, I’m no thief. I’ve only ever borrowed your books and I always kept them back in perfect condition. I know it was wrong… but I never stole anything,” You spoke anxiously. If he wasn’t angry before, he’d probably be now, you thought to yourself. But out of all the things you had expected, you hadn’t expected him to laugh. Well, he didn’t laugh but he was grinning and it was amazing. Regardless of the consequences, you would cherish this scene till the end of your days.

“Take it,” he held the book in his hand. You hesitated; what if it was simply a test? What if he was waiting for you to take it and then punish you for taking his books without expecting any consequences? The endless thoughts ran in your head as your eyes went from the book to Aemond’s violet eye but his remained on yours.

“I won’t hurt you,” He spoke in the softest of voices, “Consider it a gift.”

You knew the blood had risen to your cheeks and made you look like a flustered fool. Finally extending your hand, you took the book from the prince, “Thank you, my prince.”

So, it seemed as though he had already known, and that your efforts to remain sly remained only as efforts.

You didn’t see Aemond in his chambers again and you’d stopped taking his books out of guilt and embarrassment but only a few days later you found a new book at your bedside and inside it a note.

It is one of my favourites, tell me what you think

You knew who it was from even though there was no note and couldn’t help but smile and melt.

[milfsloverblog]

Green-Eyed Monster (NSFW)

Jane Murdstone x fem!reader

A/N: This is a request that I got a long while ago, something about Jane and some drama/smut. I apologise to whoever sent the request, I can’t find it in my inbox anymore. I started writing this fic so long ago, all the wips in my notes cheered when I typed in the last word. As always, Jane is the reddest redflag. Enjoy!<3

AO3 link in title

You loved Alice, you loved the way she always found a way to make you laugh. When she joined the staff at the Murdstone mansion, you immediately knew you two would be good friends.

Oh yes, you loved Alice. But not like you loved your Lady. Not like you loved Jane.

Loving Jane was like sitting in the sun after a long day of hard work. It warmed your heart and soul, making you feel incredibly alive.

Jane, on the other hand, had thought of a thousand ways to get rid of Alice. Going from simply firing her and making sure she’d never find work again all the way to wrapping her strong hands around the maid’s frail neck and squeezing until it snapped.

She would never, of course. But she was thinking about it. The thought of Alice being overly friendly and so close to you made it really hard for Jane to work through her feelings of homicidal rage.

It wasn’t fair. It was not fair that this silly little thing was allowed to spend her days by your side, making you laugh at her idiotic jokes while Jane could only spend a couple of hours with you late at night when the whole household was already asleep.

“She is being overly friendly to you, and I do not like it.” Jane groaned as you pulled the pins out of her hair.

“There is nothing more than friendship between Alice and me, Jane, you know that.” You reassured your lover, placing a soft kiss on her freckled shoulder.

“To you, perhaps! I see the way she is always trying to touch you, squeezing your shoulder as she walks by or holding onto your arm when she delivers one of her idiotic jokes. Has she never been told that we must not touch what is not ours?” The tall woman huffed, getting more agitated by the second. That silly little maid gave her murderous thoughts.

“I don’t think Alice sees me as anything more than a good friend, and even if she does…I’m yours.” You whispered, brushing your fingers through Jane’s raven locks and gently massaging her scalp.

Jane’s shoulders visibly relaxed and you pushed a soft smile, locking eyes with your lover in the mirror.

“I’m afraid I can not stay with you tonight, Jane. Mister Murdstone has asked me to be up at sunrise to run some errands, and I could use the sleep.” You gave the tall woman an apologetic smile, feeling her shoulders tense once more. You would have loved to spend the night with Jane but you barely got any sleep when you did, the two of you usually too busy making love to each other.

“Right.” She spat out, her lips pressed in a thin line. “Go back to the servant’s quarter, I bet you are craving to get back to your Alice.”

“Jane,” You tutted. “You are being rude, my love. There is nothing I want more than to spend the night in your arms, but I can’t. Not tonight.”

Jane huffed loudly, crossing her arms against her chest and refusing to look at you.

“Fine, sulk if you want.” You kissed the top of the woman’s head and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Sleep well, Jane.” You said, taking a last look at her reflection in the mirror before leaving the bedroom.

But Jane didn’t sleep well. She barely slept at all, her mind filled with thoughts of Alice’s hands on your body. It was unbearable, so much so that Jane came up with a plan. She needed that stupid girl to understand that you were hers, and she would make sure of it.

-

You had not expected Mister Murdstone’s errands to be taking so long to run. You had been gone from the house since sunrise and only came back around tea time, letting a sigh of relief out as you placed the heavy baskets you were carrying down. Food, clothing, newspapers, it was as if Edward Murdstone had decided that everything that could be fetched from town needed to be fetched that day.

You had barely stepped into the servant’s quarter when two hands wrapped around your waist and spun you around.

“I thought you would never be back! Thought you had run away for good!” Alice’s lips spread in a wide smile, making you laugh.

“Sure, and to go where, mm?” You shook your head. “Those errands he makes us run, they get worse every single time.”

“I know. I think he enjoys exhausting us as much as he possibly can.” Alice nodded. “Oh, Miss Murdstone has asked for me to take care of her tonight.”

Your body froze for a second and you had to take a deep breath before acting unfazed. You were about to ask for more details when a bell rang in the quarter, signalling that the Lady of the house was ready for her afternoon tea.

“Let me take care of it.” You pushed a smile and disappeared into the kitchen, quickly putting the kettle on.

A few minutes later you stepped into the study where Jane was sitting with her embroidery.

“My Lady,” You nodded, placing the tray on the table right next to her.

The tall woman barely acknowledged you as she placed her embroidery on the side and poured herself a cup of tea.

“I was made aware that you requested Alice to assist you tonight. Is my presence no longer required, my Lady?”

Jane’s eyes snapped to your face and you hoped she understood the hidden meaning behind your words. Do you not love me anymore?

“Were you made aware that your presence was no longer required?” The woman asked, her eyes slightly narrowing.

“No, my Lady.”

“Good. You shall be in my bedroom at seven sharp, as usual.” She said before taking a sip of tea and shooing you out of the room.

-

You knocked on the bedroom door at seven sharp, pushing it open and making your way inside only to find that Alice was already there.

“Good. Well, now that everyone is here…Sit.” Jane told Alice, pointing at the chair in the corner of the room. “Can’t you follow a simple order?! Sit!” She hissed when the maid didn’t obey fast enough.

Alice quickly walked to the chair and sat down, eyes wide in fear of what would happen to her next.

You stood still in the middle of the room as Jane circled you, feeling like a prey being hunted and played with by a predator.

“You see, Alice, you have gotten awfully close to something that belongs to me.” Jane said as she came to a stop behind you. You felt her tug at the knot on your apron before she took it off, letting it fall to the ground.

Alice watched in horror as Jane’s hands traveled to your front, groping your breasts through your dress before she moved to unbutton it.

“Did you know our little lady’s maid here loves to forgo underwear?” Jane smirked, watching Alice’s cheeks turn crimson as she opened your unbuttoned shirt to reveal your bare breasts. “Would you like to know how I know that?” The woman asked, placing an open-mouthed kiss on your neck. “I told her to.” She grinned and peeled your shirt from your body, letting in join your apron on the floor.

Alice tried hard not to let her eyes roam on your bare flesh, but she was unable to stop herself which only fuelled Jane’s anger.

“I told you she was interested in more than friendship.” Jane hissed in your ear, causing goosebumps to appear on your skin and your nipples to harden.

“M-Miss Murdstone-“ Alice said barely audibly. “I don’t think I should be here.”

“Quiet!” Jane barked. “Don’t you dare move from that chair or I will have you fired by tomorrow morning.”

“Jane…” You sighed and felt the woman’s fingers grab a handful of your hair before giving it a harsh tug, tilting your head so you’d look at her.

“Oh no,” She smirked. “Tonight you will address me either as Miss Murdstone or my Lady.”

She wouldn’t play nice tonight, then.

“Yes, my Lady.” You whispered, your tongue darting out to wet your lips.

Jane almost considered indulging you, she almost pressed a kiss to your lips but quickly changed her mind. This wasn’t about your or her pleasure, it was about teaching Alice a good lesson.

“Take your skirt off.” Jane ordered, letting her hands roam on your stomach for a second before pulling away. “I doubt you are wearing anything underneath it but if you are, take those off as well.”

A deep blush crept up your chest as you pulled your skirt down and stepped out of it, revealing that you were, in fact, not wearing anything underneath it. A low chuckle came from Jane’s throat and you waited, eyes closed, for the next order when you felt her lips on your shoulder and hands on your waist, her short fingernails digging into your flesh.

“Spread your legs.” She hummed near your ear and you obeyed without a second thought, your body shuddering when one of her hands snaked from your waist to your bush, resting there for a few seconds before she finally pushed two of her fingers between your folds.

“Well, well,” Jane tutted, pulling her fingers away from you and lifting them to show off the wetness that glistened on them. “Do you like having an audience?” She smirked, her eyes locking with Alice’s as she pushed her digits into her mouth and licked them clean.

The heat coursing through your body felt unbearable, a mix of both shame and arousal that made you feel dizzy.

“Yes, my Lady.” You admitted, whining when Jane’s fingers found their way back between your legs.

“You see, Alice,” Jane looked at the girl on the chair. “This one might act like a prude around you, but she is a filthy whore.” She chuckled lowly, her other hand moving to grab one of your breasts.

Jane expertly flicked her thumb on your nipple before giving it a sharp tweak, making you cry out as your sopping wet cunt clenched around nothing.

“Careful, we wouldn’t want the whole household to know you let your Lady have you.”

Jane didn’t let you answer, choosing instead to slip her fingers deep inside you and relishing in the guttural moan that tore itself from your mouth. She let her fingers commence their skillful ballet, pulling them out of you almost entirely only to push them back in up to the hilt.

It didn’t take long for you to turn into a mess, grinding down on Jane’s fingers as she crooked them to press against the soft, spongy spot that sent lighting shooting up your spine.

Your sinful moans mixing with the wet sounds coming from between your legs only spurred Jane on, her blue eyes fixed on the maid sitting in the corner of the room with her mouth wide open.

“Why don’t you tell your little friend who you belong to, mm?” Jane’s voice echoed in your mind.

“You! Y-yours, I’m yours!” You cried out. “All yours, my Lady!”

“Mine.” Jane snarled looking at Alice, hoping the message was clear.

Her free hand joined the busy one between your legs to circle your clit as she relentlessly pounded into you and could hear yourself begging from a distance - please, please, I can not hold back anymore. It felt like an eternity before Jane finally allowed you to cum, your cunt instantly clenching around her fingers as you were pushed over the edge.

The tall woman kept pumping in and out of you for a moment until she decided that you had had enough and pulled her fingers out, giving your core a harsh slap. You fell to your knees, your body still shaking from the intensity of your orgasm, and struggled to catch your breath.

Eventually, you turned around and looked up at Jane who was now standing tall in front of you. You grabbed a handful of her black dress to steady yourself and buried your face into the soft fabric.

“Thank you, Miss Murdstone.” You managed to say with your shaky voice, making the tall woman smirk proudly.

Jane pulled away from you, snatching her dress from your hands before walking towards Alice who was still transfixed by the whole scene. She roughly grabbed the maid’s face with one hand, forcing the girl to look up at her.

“Don’t you dare say a word about what happened here tonight.” She snarled. “No one would believe you. Now get out!”

Alice didn’t have to be told twice. The young woman was on her feet in a second and scurried out of the room as quickly as she could.

“Did you have to be so harsh?” You croaked as you slowly got back on your feet, watching Jane closing the bedroom door that Alice had left open.

“Which other choice did I have?” Jane said, pressing a soft kiss on your lips before moving to sit down at her dressing table. “She needed to be taught a lesson. You are mine, and she mustn’t mess with another woman’s belongings.”

“Yes, my Lady,” You chuckled softly as you started taking the pins off Jane’s hair. “I’m yours.”

-

You weren’t really surprised the next day when entering the servant’s quarters, you heard one of the maids gossiping with the butler about how Alice had been fired by Mister Murdstone at sunrise.

It did pinch your heart a little to know you had lost a friend, but Jane was right, Alice had to learn the lesson. One mustn’t mess with another woman’s belongings, certainly not Jane Murdstone’s.

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