#pock x reader

[jeanbie]

WAYS TO SAY I LOVE YOU #7 ★ masterlist.

pairing: porco x reader

genre: domestic au, ghost au, modern au | warnings: mentions of suicide, mediums, character death, mental health references (depression), grief, slight Goblin references at the end | wc: 2.5k

note: love this one. please tell me if you wanna see similar angsts for other characters!

⏤ imagine the first time they say i love you. like, properly say it; because they’ve said it before, but today they say it one last time, when it’s the only thing left to say.

It started with a medium.

There had been a time where you prided yourself on your disbelief in an afterlife, dismissing mediums on television, laughing at ghost hunters and paranormal movies depicting demons and ghouls climbing out of screens. Although now, those times seem too long ago, phantom memories - even the person you were in those memories seem to be different, as though looking into the mind of a stranger, disconnected and vacant. 

Jean had told you that was a coping mechanism. Mikasa assured you it was normal. Your sister said it was mental illness.

After the loss of Porco, you didn’t know what to think anymore. After the loss of the love of your life, thinking just became pointless.

When the news of Porco’s passing had reached you, it had reached you last. At least everybody in your close circle of friends knew a few hours before you, Porco’s family and Reiner who had found him being the first who found out almost a day before. The absence of Porco for those long and tortuous hours were ones you misjudged. You thought he was going back home to see his family for the weekend. Berthold thought he was with you. Reiner had returned to his shared flat and found the truth hanging.

The only reason as to why you were last was because nobody knew how you would react. Amongst the chaos and shock that was Porco’s death, the reaction that would be drawn from you would change everything. You'd been through this before, this darkness. It had taken some work with Porco to get over whatever darkness consumed you, and this would set you back years. Looking back at it, you even remember where you were and when it had happened, when the pin dropped. Originally, they wanted Reiner to tell you, but, overcome with grief, he sent Annie instead. You will never, ever forget the look on Annie’s face as you opened the door, and the news followed a cup of tea and an unexpected, clueless, and genuine smile had settled on your lips. “What are you doing here?” you had asked, “is everything okay?” She'd said nothing, and then caved when you asked if she'd heard from Porco this weekend. He’s missing my calls. Has he contacted you?

Even after the funeral, after the original shock and after the news had been broken out around university, people still didn’t know how to act around you. The Porco Subject was never spoken about or touched upon. Pictures of Porco were turned over or taken down when you came over, his name buried with him in the pretty cemetery by the river. It took some time, a real long time, but eventually, the pain began to ever so slightly fade; only to come rushing back again like the sudden pull of the tide when Louise had approached your booth in the dorm common room with a leaflet about a medium.

You don’t know why you went.

Mikasa had come, too, as emotional support and because she wanted to be there to see if it was as real as Louise and the leaflet were making it out to be. You hadn’t even booked a session, turning up unannounced and anonymous for the meeting in one of the older lecture rooms on campus. The question of why and how a medium was permitted onto campus was never addressed - you just had to see and hear it for yourself. Nothing would come out of it, and you were glad to keep it that way. That was until the medium called out for a Y/N, and your heart sank.

“There’s a Porco in the room, and he’s asking for a Y/N…is there…a Y/N here?”

You had no reaction other than paralysed silence. Mikasa was scandalised, angry and confused. The medium surely must have heard about Porco’s death here and that’s why the session was on campus. She said all of this accusingly, crying in hysterics, this is wrong, how can you do this to someone in grieving?

You left the lecture hall, leaving a piece of you behind with it.

Since that day, you’d returned back to the comfort of your bedroom, leaving for your lectures only occasionally. Seminars were skipped in silence and the teachers understood, sending emails to cover for it, and the notifications piled up like the tissues in the dustbin. No matter how hard you tried to convince yourself that the event with the medium was a scam, something set up as a sick practical joke, you couldn’t shake it off. What if’s and buts whirled around in your head, chaotic, loud, invasive and sad.

Porco was gone, and there was nothing you could do about it. But what if you had stayed -? What if it was true? What if you just missed your last, and final opportunity to say goodbye?

“Why are you here? All of you?”

“We never left.”

You blink.

“Does it…does it hurt? Dying?”

You close your eyes slowly. “Quicker than falling asleep.” And exhale.

Something deep into your apartment bumps. 

The noise is quiet whilst still being loud enough to bounce off the volume of the movie, playing quietly on your television screen sitting on top of your desk. Lately, your living room has been pulled into your bedroom, all rooms besides the connecting ensuite now in one. Phone calls from worried friends and family were set to silent and on days where the front door rang, it remained closed. Like you did many months ago, all you need right now is the space. People had told them why. They didn’t blame you.

Sniffing and wiping your eye with the side of your hand, you push the covers folded up around your breasts down and kick your feet to the floor, staring towards your bedroom door as if probing it for answers. Silence, and then another noise. On a normal day, this might alarm you, but your body is numb, aching and tired, and so you move towards the door without thinking and pull it open, stepping out into the hall. A glance in either direction shows no immediate threat, and you’re too lazy, too tired and too unbothered to step out to investigate. The noise is likely somebody upstairs or down, and if it is an intruder here to kill you, then what do you have to lose?

You move back into your bedroom, shutting the door gently. The bathroom rope-light swings in the breeze from the door moving and you slip into the bathroom quickly. Light floods the box room, illuminating the exhaustion on your face. You look ghastly, sunken and stale. You feel it too. Depression clings to you, life moves outside but stills in. God, you feel so ugly, so worthless and disgusting and alone - splashing your face with cold water, you gasp in the air like you’re depending on the taste, passing up looking at your reflection in the mirror in fear of what you’ll see staring back. When the bathroom light is turned off and you shut the door behind you, you turn to shuffle back into your bedroom and pause.

There is somebody by the window.

It’s undeniable, real and solid- but you blink several times, wondering if it’s just a dream. Nothing registers in your body, no reflex to scream or panic. Instead, you simply stare.

The silhouette against the window shuffles, anxious, and then steps into the light. For a while you say nothing, staring in a stunned silence as the figure reveals itself. It has to be a dream. This is a dream. You’ve dreamt it a hundred times. You’ve dreamt Porco stepping towards you. You don’t know what to think.

“Pock,” you say, lifeless. “Am I…dreaming?”

“Baby-” Footsteps across the carpet. Moves like him. Sounds like him. “Oh, my baby girl.” Something cold touches you, but something familiar. Old friends. Old lovers, fleshy hands. Feels like him. “My beautiful girl.”

“Pock. Porco?” you stumble. The Porco before you watches your eyes fill with tears instantly, and the tightness in your throat he can visibly see causing your hands to tremble. “Porco? Am I. Am I dreaming? Am I sleeping?”

“Mhm, yeah,” he settles with. Maybe that’s for the best, maybe that will calm you down. His hands engulf your own, massaging the shakes to sleep. “You’re dreaming.”

“You. You feel so real,” you choke. “Fuck. Porco, fuck, what’s happening, why does it feel real-”

“Please-”

“I’m scared, wait, what’s happening, Pock-?”

The hands you felt on your hands move to your arms. A tightness follows, like he’s holding you. He did this, he was good at calming you down with his hands on your arms and lips on yours, whispers in mouths. This time he doesn’t kiss you. He can’t. Not now. Not again, never again.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” you insist, tears pouring out of your eyes. “You’re. You. Baby, you died, you left me, you left us, why did you. Where did you. Porco, what…?”

“Calm down, Y/N, calm down, okay?” Porco whispers comfortingly. “Capture your breath, and then we’ll talk okay? I don’t have too long left here.”

This repeats for a little while, as Porco follows a method he used to when he tried to calm you down. After three long and amazing years of dating, Porco had learned what worked and what didn’t, what to say and what not to. The crazy thing about love is how you dedicate everything to getting to know that other person inside and out, learning their secrets and exploring interests, making memories to remember and frame and tell kids about. There was a time when Porco thought about all of that, and a time where he could have had it.

“Is it really you?” you ask quietly, after several long minutes of Porco holding your head in his hands and bringing you out of the storm onto the calm shore. “I’m not going crazy?”

“It’s me,” Porco promises, smiling as best as he can. You’re crying, maybe you can’t see his face. His throat feels hot, tight and firm.

“I miss you.” You rasp out your words, gasping for air every few seconds, “I miss you so much, Porco. Why did you leave me, what happened?”

“I’m so sorry, baby.”

“I. I thought you were going to your parents for the weekend, but. But Reiner found you and- why did you lie to me? Pock, why…? Was, was it me?”

“No.” Porco grabs your hands tightly. “Don’t ever say that. It was never, ever your fault. Not at all, okay? Don’t think that.”

“Then why?”

Porco can’t think. “I don’t want you to think it was your fault, okay? You were- you are, everything to me. You were the light of my life. But, fuck, I was so unhappy. And I didn’t know how to stop being unhappy. I hurt. It hurt me. I was hurting everybody around me in my own little way. Every time I would tell you that I was doing extra readings at the dorm, all I was doing was struggling, thinking about how unhappy I felt even though I was surrounded by people who made me feel worth it. And you all deserved so much better. Still, you deserve so much better.”

“Reiner found you. None of us knew you were hurting, Pock, I didn’t know. We should have noticed the signs, I should have been more careful.”

“No. I was good at hiding it, I never wanted you to worry.”

Suddenly Porco’s eyes widen, his hands stroking your hair pausing. With a quick exhale of breath, his smile tightens and he lets out a shaky sigh. “I haven’t got long left. I need to go soon.”

“Go? No, go where?” you frantically ask. “No, please Pock, don’t leave me again. You can’t leave me again, please.”

“It’s okay. It’s all okay. I tried to call for you the other week, but you left,” Porco explains quickly.

“The medium? That…that was you?”

Porco laughs quietly, “Yeah, baby girl. But, I get it, you never believed in all that stuff, huh. I should have known better. I had to come here, come to see you. I had to.”

I had to one last time.

“Please,” you whisper, grabbing his hands. “Please don’t leave me again. Please. I love you so much, please don’t leave me alone again. I need you.”

Porco shakes his head, attempting a curly smile that you can’t even see past the blur of his own tears. “Y/N L/N, you have been the love of my life. I have loved being your boyfriend and you are my best friend. I will never, ever forget how amazing you are.” Nodding, sniffing his tears back, Porco kisses your forehead. His lips are cold and wet, ghostlike and light. “I love you. I love you so much, baby. I’m so sorry, for everything- none of it is your fault, okay, honey? Mmm?”

You feel his hands in your hair as you nod. “I know. I know, and I’m sorry, too. I could have helped you.”

“Don’t forget about me,” Porco says. “You being happy, and you knowing that it was never your fault, will help me now. Okay?”

Sniffing loudly, you nod again. “Okay.”

For a long moment, Porco just stares: “I’m gonna miss you so much.” You mumble something in reply to him, and he sighs shakily, “but now, I have to go.”

You grab his hands as he tries to pull away. “Don’t leave me, you’re leaving me.”

“I never left. I’ll always be here, watching over you. Always, and forever.”

(“All is said and done?”

Porco steps into the long hallway and smiles at the hooded man. He’s seen who he needs to; several stops around to his family, one to Reiner who had it the worst with finding his body. The final one for you. Y/N, the love of his entire life, remembered in memories and gone in touch.

It’s okay.

“Yeah,” Porco nods. Death nods, his hood falling slightly as he points down the hallway with one hand and with the other, passes Porco a small cup. Porco reaches for it, exhaling gently. “Just like falling asleep.”

He drinks the contents and hands the cup back to Death, heading down the hallway. For a moment, his hand hovers above the handle. He’s said his piece on Earth. He’s done what he needs to do. Now, he can move on in peace.

He turns the handle. The hallway fills with white.)

[demigoddessqueens]

Could we get mighty Nein or bells hells with a scarlet witch like SO 👀👀👀

It is oooky spooky season 🎃

Yesssss 🙌 witch debut for the Halloween season!

Masterlist 12

The Mighty Nein

Jester thinks you’re so cool with your magic and sometimes wants to learn spells from you for her own

Caleb thinks he can find an equal within you hit also feels distant given the influence from Trent and his own past

Fjord and Nott/Veth have had bad experiences with magic before so they may be harder to win over

Essek, Cadeuces, Mollymauk have seen all different walks of life and your magic is another aspect of you, trustful that you are in control

Bell’s Hells

Laudna and Imogen feel half wary of trusting you but also feel that you are the best in helping them

Fearne, Braius and FCG are the more supportive of the bunch in understanding how your magic works, that it’s a part of you

Ashton, Dorian and Orym have had their past bad experiences with those of witches/mages form before so the distrustful nature is not entirely unwarranted.

It may be a long way to gain trust but they eventually come around

[railroad-migraine]

hello lovely! you’re my favorite bells hells writer, you just hit the nail on the head with every post and i’m so excited everytime i get the notif that you posted

if your requests are still open and you have the time/want to, could you do a bells hells x reader with the prompt “please just hold me?”, like maybe reader had a nightmare or something and asks the party to hold them? please and thank you !!!!

Hello darling! Your words made me all warm and fuzzy, I'm honoured to be a favourite something hehehe. I did a similar post here for when the reader is afraid of the dark, if you're interested :)

~ Poet

"Please Just... Hold Me?"

-> S/O has a nightmare

Ashton 💙

Fuck- Shit- I mean, sure. Sure. C'mere. I'll keep you close.

Even though you're the one seeking comfort, Ashton initially freaks out a little bit themselves. They're not used to the vulnerability that comes with bad dreams, especially when it's being shared with someone he cares about.

Before you give him the go-ahead, his hands are hovering in mid air, clueless on whether or not it's okay to touch you.

They're not the best at words in situations like this, so they let their body do the talking for them. Toned arms pull you into their lap, one hand gently running up and down your back as you calm down.

His crystalised skull glints and catches the miniscule light in your shared room. A little rainbow makes a wobbly appearance on the headboard. Their body is strong and grounding beneath you.

-

Chetney 💙

Give me time and I'll figure out a way to punch nightmares. It's not impossible if it's for you. I'd do anything for you.

He's got his mind set on that end goal, and Chet doesn't give up easily. But it can wait for another day. A day where you're not trembling beside him.

Because of how smol he is, it's less him holding you and more him being scooped up into your lap with his arms around your neck. Your nose is pressed into his shoulder as he mutters soft words into your ear.

He makes teary attempts at making you laugh, something to distract you both from the water pooling in the corners of your eyes.

He keeps an eye on you in the morning, a subtle way of checking in. He doesn't bring it up in conversation - the man respects your privacy too much.

-

Dorian 💙

Do you even need to ask? Of course I'll hold you. You're safe with me. I won't let anything happen to you. They can't touch you now.

He feels a little helpless in the moment, his very being flooded with cautious alarm when you reach out for him blindly in the dark. He's not the strongest, nor the bravest, but he'll be your rock and help you through this as best he can.

Pretty words are what he lives on though, and he knows just what to say to make everything feel a little bit better. Sweet nothings and intimate musings drip from the lips that rest on the crown of your head.

His fingers sweep in soothing circles across your skin, and you cling to his silk shirt and silky hair as he guides your fluttering heartbeat to steady to a more restful rhythm.

Sings you lullabies of crisp apples in spring and warm sunshine that kisses the face of a dear lover. Those nightmares are easily kept at bay while you lay beside him.

-

Fearne 💙

Oh dear. It's just not fair, is it? Don't worry, baby, I got you. Ol' Fearnie's here now.

She's so naturally tender with you. In the daytime, Fearne teases relentlessly, pokes and prods and says sweet flirty things that make you want to curl up into a tight little ball and burn from embarrassment.

But here, she smooths back sweat soaked wispy hairs away from your forehead, presses her lips to your forehead and hushes your unnecessary apologies.

A light floral scent envelopes your entire being like a blanket while she encases you in her arms, her downy fur there feather soft and cosy.

Little Mister lifts his head from the foot of the bed and scampers up to hold your free hand, coos quiet. The other stays placed on top of Fearne's sleep dress, right over her heart. The heart that beats for you.

-

Imogen 💙

I know what it's like, love. Trust me, I do. I'm not going anywhere. Whatever you need, big or small, it's yours.

Of all the party members, you know that Imogen is the most familiar with nightmares. You've spent many sleepless nights sitting with her, smoothing back her hair and holding a cup of water to her lips as she calms down from vivid visions with vague meanings.

The storm can be so vast and crimson at times, unbearable even. It terrifies her, makes her anxious when it's bedtime. Even if she tries to hide it, you can tell.

But when you're distressed and whimpering under the covers beside her, she pushes those thoughts away and tries to be a bit braver. Braver for you. It's the least she can offer.

She cradles you into her side like you're some glass object that could shatter, her words and thoughts soothing you until sleep or daylight finds you both.

-

Laudna 💙

Those bad dreams have some nerve poking around in your head. They wouldn't dare if they knew what I could do. Lay back, precious thing.

Like Chetney, Laudna makes the nightmares out to be a personal enemy. They're cruel and unworthy of someone so good such as yourself. Just out of reach so that she can't protect you from them.

If she could, she would show them how scary-scary she can actually truly be.

But until she has the power to physically strangle the embodiment of your bad dreams, she fluffs your pillow and helps you lean back onto the mattress. She's humming something quietly, a lullaby of some sort, her fingers gingerly stroking your face once she's cuddled into you.

She asks if you want to talk about what you dreamt, and respects however you answer. Works you through what you remember and curls her fingers around your own as you speak.

-

Orym 💙

Hey, hey. Look at me. Hey. Hi. It's me. You're alright, okay? I'm right here. We're alright. Just focus on me.

He lights a candle quicky, and you now are able to see the concern on his face that the shadows previously hid from you. There's a sadness in his eyes, but it's overpowered by the protectiveness in his actions.

He perches at your side, cupping your face while his thumbs gently wipe away crusty sleep from your eyes, soft smile brighter than the flame on the nightstand.

A sprig of lavender grows effortlessly from his palm and he tucks it in between your pillows to help you sleep better when you feel ready to.

Orym has had his fair share of nightmares, and helps you through it like he approaches everything - with practiced carefulness and kindness that is so good in nature that the bad dreams dare not linger.

[pushingdaisies1]

★: 𝗕𝗘𝗟𝗟𝗦 𝗛𝗘𝗟𝗟𝗦 𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧

- { art credits to @pixelllls!! } -

𝘐𝘮𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘯 𝘛𝘦𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘵— ✦ coming soon!

𝘍𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘦 𝘊𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘢𝘺— ✦ coming soon!

𝘓𝘢𝘶𝘥𝘯𝘢— ✦ coming soon!

𝘈𝘴𝘩𝘵𝘰𝘯 𝘎𝘳𝘦𝘺𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘳𝘦— ✦ "𝘈 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 ~ . . . ➔"

𝘖𝘳𝘺𝘮 (𝘖𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘈𝘪𝘳 𝘈𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘪)— ✦ coming soon!

𝘊𝘩𝘦𝘵𝘯𝘦𝘺 𝘗𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘰’𝘗𝘦𝘢— ✦ coming soon!

𝘍𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘩 𝘊𝘶𝘵 𝘎𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘴 (𝘍𝘊𝘎)— ✦ coming soon!

'𝗚𝗨𝗘𝗦𝗧 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗦' (tbc) . . .

𝘋𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘯 𝘚𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘮— ✦ coming soon!

[macawritesupdates]

Please do a superhero/supervillain au! I think it could be fun if yuuji and sukuna were dating as civilians but unknowingly bitter enemies in their alter egos.

*leans in close, whispers softly* But what if it ends up super angsty? Like heart-wrenching angsty? *leans in more* Because the writing vibes possessed me to make this is a really angsty one-shot, I'm so sorry... *sheds a few writer tears as I push this angsty treat to you and flee* >>Chapter Six: When the Mask Comes Off<<

[quiveringdeer]

[randoimago]

Guys and theys hm?

Would it be possible to request CR3 bells hells he/hims and he/theys (ashton orym doeian and chet) reaction to their love interest going in for a kiss only to boop their nose? Thank you thank you!

Love Interest Booping Their Nose Instead of Kissing Them

Fandom: Critical Role

Characters: Ashton Greymoore, Chetney Pock O’pea, Dorian Storm, Orym

Type of Request: Headcanons

Notes: You’re welcome you’re welcome!!

Ashton

Rolls his eyes at the fact you tricked him. You think you're so clever, huh S/O.

But fine, you want to make a game out of it then good luck giving him actual kisses now. He'll play hard to get until you actually ask him out loud for a kiss.

Would absolutely tease you about it too. You think he's finally going to kiss you again? Nope he's booping your nose or flicking your forehead. Have a taste of your own medicine.

Chetney

Oh playing hard to get are you? Well he knows you won't be able to resist him for long.

Honestly drops so many hints and uses the shiniest lip gloss to make him look even more kissable. Just trying to get your attention only to act aloof and hope you take the bait.

He's too short to boop your nose back so please just give him an actual kiss before he gets desperate (as if he isn't already).

Dorian

Is taken aback as his cheeks flush. Of course you were just messing with him. Why would you actually kiss him? Ha ha not like he was hoping for a kiss anyway.

As if his interest in you wasn't bad enough, now he's doubling how many seconds he stares at you or tries to steal glances when you aren't looking.

Really tries to play it cool and fails because he is really flustered. Honestly, he probably tries to do the same to you with booping your nose, only to get flustered about that too.

Orym

Also taken aback but a small smile crosses his face when you walk away. It was cute, he can't deny that.

He's already "talked" to his husband late at night about his attraction to you so that's just another thing to mention to the skies.

Will tug on your pants or something to get you to lean down only for him to boop your nose back. It might not be a kiss, but he thinks it's still pretty good.

[gloriousporcodenial]

Life is a Spiderweb (6)

Author's note : I did take a lot of time for this, I still think it's a bit sloppy but there it is ! Good luck with the angst ! Also if you notice any mistake, you can tell me in the comments !

Chapter 3 : But we're just soldiers

You took a sharp breath, and crossed your arms over your chest, but you did your best to remain calm. You didn't want things to escalate into an argument with Porco again, you knew you had to control your annoyance.

"You did ask me to stay away, but your behavior has been quite odd, Porco Galliard. Can you explain this to me then ?"

"What ? I owe you no explanations on what I do, mind yourself !" Porco growled. You sudenly began to think that you had made it all up, that maybe it had all been coincidences. But there was still a chance, a slim chance, that it wasn't the case. You straighted a bit, gaining a more confidance stance, and looking straight into his threatening glare, you replied with all the conviction you could mimic as you pushed away your doubts.

"Is that so ? Because wherever I look, you're there, staring at me from afar or walking almost at arm's reach. I've been avoiding you, I kept my promess, but now you're the one that won't leave me be. Even if you don't talk to me, you're always in my sight."

You could see as you spoke that the blonde man's anger slipped away, replaced by a new emotion that you never saw on his face. His frown relaxed, his lips lightly parting as his grey irises broke eye contact with you for half a second, before locking with them again, filled with what resembled confusion.

"So tell me what you really want, Porco, because your attitude since I obeyed your demand has not been matching your words." You added.

And this time, he remained speechless. You held back a victorious grin, happy to see that the answer wasn't as easy for him as you had feared. Your guts were right, you were glad that you had managed to pull out this small bluff, because in the end, he really had been acting odd. You weren't imagining things. But as seconds passed, you realised that his confusion was slowly growing into something bigger. He remained silent, but you could see his thoughts rushing in his eyes that kept jumping from you to an invisible spot somewhere. You could hear his breath, usually slow and almost inaudible, becoming more sharp and rapid. You didn't want him to panick, he was probably overthinking this now.

"Don't worry, I'm not angry about it."

He focused on you again, looking worried, and you gave him your warmest smile. But in return, you only saw his face twist in affliction.

"I can't do this..." he whispered. The distress in his voice broke your heart. Of every reactions he could have had, this one was the most unexpected.

"Porco ?" You asked, taking a step toward him. He looked away from you.

"We're... We're just soldiers. Anyone might die anytime once we'll be out there."

You heard him take a deep breath, before he turned his face toward yours again. There was something in his eyes that made you incredibly sad. Something that looked like despair. You suddenly wanted to take him in your arms, to shield him from whatever was hurting him.

"You asked me what I want... I'd love to talk to all of you. I want to make friends, to create bonds. You really seem like a very sweet person... We would certainly get along well..."

He had leaned toward you as he spoke, and suddenly, you noticed he was very close. All your confidence from earlier had melted beneath the softness of his gaze, captivated by his voice. It was the first time you really noticed how beautiful he sounded when he spoke, but maybe it was only because for the first time, he was speaking with gentleness to you. You felt your cheeks heating up, why were you so shy now ? Was it the slight longing in his eyes?

"But I can't. I can't get close to anyone here. I'm not strong enough to loose someone."

You caught a glimpse of his hand near your face as he moved back. Had he been trying to caress your cheek ? You caught yourself wishing he had.

"Is that it then ?" You asked.

Porco noded slightly. You had bursted his shell open, and he had suddenly poured into you a truth so deep that you had almost felt the world rumble around you. A fear, so heavily human that it resonated into you.

Of course, soldiers were meant to die young. You knew your life would be short when you joigned the training scouts. You had not really been thinking about the grieving, but maybe you were used to see those around you die, of hunger, cold or disease. Poverty was as merciless as the titans, then again, Death wears many masks. But in the end, it's always the same, isn't it ?

"You're so stupid !"

He turned around suddenly, frowning again, only to meet your soft smile.

"Love is priceless. I want to cry every time one of our comrades die. I want to feel the tearing pain every single time. Grieving is deeply human. I want to cry, then get back on my feet with the memory of them and their love, tears rolling on my cheeks as I slay my way through titans. What are we fighting for if it isn't for love ? Family, friends, comrades, lovers... That's what makes us alive. I want to die crying because I'll miss everyone. I want to love you all, because love is what makes life worthy. And I'll accept every single tear that I have to shed. I'll have a short life, but I will live it more intensly then anyone could imagine."

Porco looked at you, silently. You couldn't tell what was going on in his mind.

"You're right. Everything comes with a price..."

His gaze was incredibly sad as he looked in the distance, lost in his thoughts.

"I can't just go to war and expect to leave it untouched. Every soldier has a fight to die in, even if they return I guess..."

This statement that was barely an audible mumble remained with you. You didn't uderstand it fully, you were certain of that. But Porco never elaborated. After that conversation, he had apologize for his behavior. You were glad to be right, he had been intentionally pushing others away.

But not anymore.

The next morning, as you were having breakfast with Marco, Jean, Connie and Sasha, instead of heading toward his brother, Porco stopped by you.

"May I ?" He asked, motioning toward the empty spot on your right.

"Sure !"

He took place next to you, to your greatest joy. You glanced at him discreetly during the meal, noting small details about him. His jaw looked strong while he chewed, it made him look quite manly and rough in a way, but his upward nose softned his features. He listened to everyone, looking at them with a stern expression, but his grey eyes had something tender. You realised that you were smiling always a little more whenever his gaze would focus on you. But his face seemed to relax whenever he did as well.

He did not speak more with others, but he remained closer then usual, listening to everyone, to who they were. His face softened, and after a few days, he smiled gently from time to time. You were happy to see this change in him.

"Soooo, what's going on with Porco ?" Sasha asked you with a mewing voice.

"Mh, Porco ? I guess he's finally opening up." You said, before noticing her amused smile.

"What ?"

"There's something between you two, right ?" asked Krista.

"What ? No ! Why would you say that ?"

She and Sasha giggled before your confusion.

"You're really that oblivious ?" said Ymir with a mocking grin.

The four of your were working out together this morning. Everyone had been dispatched in small groups and you were far enough from others to be able to talk without beeing heard.

"Oblivious of what ?"

You were slightly annoyed to see them all giggle again, exchanging accomplices looks.

"Come on, what's the deal ?" you pouted.

"Oh... So you're not aware..." Ymir stated.

"Well... It seems that Porco has a little crush on you. We thought that you could tell us more about it..." Krista explained. You looked at her, dumbfounded.

"Everyone kind of noticed that." Ymir added.

"Why would you all think that ? "

You were confused. Porco had been more friendly with everyone for a while now, but you didn't thought that there were any signs of this kind to notice. Although, you didn't really dislike the idea. You wondered if you had been caught staring at him a bit too much as well.

"Well... He always smiles when he looks your way. And not like those little smiles he does to everyone, when it's you it's different !" Sasha explained excitedly.

"He looks happier when it's you !"

"During training too, he's always looking at you." Ymir added.

"You're exaggerating..." You said.

"Mh, look around then."

You quickly glanced behind. You had seen Porco with Marcel, Reiner and Berthold, so you quickly found their group, and were surprised to see that Ymir was right.

"That doesn't mean anything ! Bring proof to the table !" you claimed, smiling maybe a bit to wide.

"It's just the addition of all these small details that gives him away. Keep an eye open for these clues and you'll see it too !"

That evening left you sleepless. Your thoughts were all turned toward Porco. The most unsettling was to acknowledge that you were hoping that they were right. You liked how he smiled at you now, you liked that he sat next to you to eat. You couldn't deny that he was very handsome, and you always felt your breath more heavy when your eyes would meet. Just thinking about him made your face heat up a bit, and you decided to go get some fresh air.

Outside, everything was calm. The cold wind made you shiver, but at least your cheeks were cooling down.

"Can't sleep either ?"

You were startled to hear him behind you, and jolted up. Porco chuckled lightly.

"So, what's keeping you up ?" he asked, catching you off guard.

"Ah ! I'm, er... Too hot." You stuttered, blushing.

"Indeed." he whispered.

"And you ?"

He looked at you, smiling sadly.

"I guess I shouldn't think too much like that. But our training is almost over now."

You remembered the conversation you had with him many weeks ago. Soon, you will all be soldiers, and the countdown to your death would begin.

"Are you scared?"

He nodded silently. A lot seemed to be going on inside his mind, but his lips remained shut. You looked at the night sky, hidden by thick clouds. You shivered as another gush of wind tossed your hair around your head.

"You're cold."

You turned toward Porco again. His eyes were softly looking at you, his hair partially undone. He took off the jacket he was wearing over his pyjama to cover you.

"Not very smart to go outside without anything warm." He smiled gently, and for a moment, you just looked at him. You were lost in his eyes, reading him. There was sadness inside of them, a bit of fear. A few emotions you couldn't name, and an immense softness that filled you with warmth. You lost track of time, mezmerized by that light in the grey irises, that neverdying blaze that reached for you desperately. You felt as if an invisible force was pulling you toward him, an inevitable attraction. Slowly, his face came closer, but you couldn't tell if he was the one leaning or if you had moved toward him.

You felt his warm fingers brushing your cold cheek. You closed your eyes, focused on the rough skin of his fingertips tracing their way toward your ear, entertwining with your hair.

And swiftly, his had pulled away, and you opened your eyes only to catch a glimpse of his face turning away as he went for the door.

"We should go back to sleep. It's cold."

He left quickly, but you remained frozen. You only caught a glimpse of it, but a small drop had traced it's way on his cheek. And his voice was tight when he left.

Maybe your friends were right. Maybe he liked you. And maybe he was afraid to lose you.

Days flew by, and even if Porco was getting along with everyone, you couldn't help but notice a certain sadness in him. And it kept growing.

The ceremony arrived. You could finally make your choice. You were glad to see that all of your friends had joigned the survey corp as well. Even Porco.

"So excited for tomorrow ! It's going to be our first day as soldiers !"

"Can't wait to be away from Sadies !"

"I hope we'll go outside the walls soon !" You added excitedly. Marco laughed.

"Ah, Y/n is still eager to taste the freedom outside the walls !"

"Who isn't?" Eren asked, smiling widely.

You noticed as everyone cheered that Porco remained away. You knew his concerns, and walked toward him, even if you didn't really know what to tell him to brush away his worries.

"It's fine, we're not going out just yet." You smiled.

"I know.... I know..." he whispered, but his eyes were tormented and his hands shaking. You tried to soothe him, but he barely listened to you. After speaking alone for a few minutes, you remained silent, and gently took his hand in yours. He didn't react when you did, so you stayed there, drawing circles on his skin.

"I need to go." He snapped after a while, and hastily left the room, leaving you concerned.

You didn't see him again in the evening, nor the next morning. You were worried as you put on your gear. Finally, as you left for your first mission, he arrived, all set up, but his face was emotionless. He didn't say a word to anyone, not even you.

You were sad as you walked outside, your heart heavy. The old and cold version of the blonde man was back. You activated your left trigger to climb a roof, and began moving around in the air. But when you tried to use the right side of your equipment, it didn't work, and you crashed toward the ground, a scream leaving your lips as you felt your blood drained from your face. Pain rushed in your leg as you hit the dusty pavements, and you were quickly taken to the infirmary of the barracks.

Your ankle was only sprained, but you were going to need some recovery time. You were frustrated, longing to leave the walls, but you knew that it was only a matter of time. You couldn't understand why your gear had betrayed you like this, they had been thouroughly checked the day before. As time passed, your boredom grew, you couldn't wait for your friends to return and tell you about their first day. You also wanted to talk with Porco, he was probably very nervous in the morning, and would be very concerned to hear about your injury.

But that day, nothing was meant to go right. You heard the news, and your heart stopped.

The colossal titan had attacked again.

You never had a day filled with as much anxiety as today. You couldn't go there. You just had to wait and hear who had died. All your friends were on the first line and you couldn't help them.

Even Porco.

Suddenly, you regretted not going to him in the morning, to talk to him. Suddenly, you regretted every opportunity you had to spend time with him, because now might just be too late. You understood why he had been so cold and distant, so scared to get attached to anyone. You knew that if Porco died today, you were going to drown in remorse. Because you had let yourself fall a little too hard for him, forgetting that he was going to live a short life as well. Maybe shorter then yours.

So when he arrived, alive and well in the evening, you bursted out in tears, limping out of your bed to grab him by the neck and hug him tightly. You cried in his arms, relieved that he was alive. He held you close against him, not letting go. Once you calmed down, you finally realised that he was shaking uncontrollably against you, his fingers digging in your back, sobbing with his head buried in your shoulder.

"Porco ?" You called, trying to wipe out your own tears with one hand. "What happenned... Please, answer !"

His voice was muffled by your shirt, and you had to push him away firmly before he finally released his grip on you. His eyes were wide in horror as he looked at you, tears pouring out from his eyes as he quivered.

"Porco, please, tell me what's wrong!" you pleaded, terrifyed. You thought about Marcel, praying for his brother to be still alive.

"It's Marco..." he moaned between his sobs, before putting his hand over his mouth to supress his wails, unsuccesfully. You felt your own eyes watering again.

"What is it?" You pressed him. His legs gave in as he slid on the floor, to your feet. You crouched in front of him, cupping his face with your hand, gently. "Please, tell me, Porco..."

You already knew what he was about to say. You realised why he had said that he wasn't strong enough to loose anybody. He was tearing up just in front of you.

"He's dead..." he answered, before breaking down and crying, his whole figure shaking. You were crying too. You knew it was part of the life you had chosen. You knew that it was going to be like this until you die too. But the pain was immense. And yet... You were relieved that it wasn't him.

You managed to calm down after a while as you noticed that your friend's state seemed to be worsening. You were now concerned with Porco, was he too sensitive for this life ? He was almost choking, barely able to take his breath between sobs and cries. His voice was broken from his despaired weeps, infiltrated by sheer horror that made you shiver. The more you paid attention to him, the more you were frightened. What had he seen to be in such perdition?

"Porco... What happenned ? Look at me, please !"

The fear in your voice must have reached him, because he obeyed, trying to regain control over himself, in vain. His eyes were haunted, guilty, drowned in absolute distress.

"I don't know what to do..." he moaned, overwhelmed. You were desperate to find a way to help him cope with all of these emotions. You plunged your eyes into his, trying to figure out what to do. You could read the struggle he was going through, to talk or to remain silent. There was something from today that he needed to say, but was afraid to let out. Something that made you shiver. You were torn between your curiosity and fear. Did you want to hear it ? From the look in his eyes, you had a feeling that it would completely disrupt something. It was going to scar you. And as much as he seemed needy to tell you, Porco looked terrifyed to speak. He was desperate, lost. You were as well.

What had he seen ?

> A : You console him, without digging further. (12) > B : You make him talk, you need to know, regardless of the consequences. (13)

Previous chapter (3) : Chapter 2 : Contradictions

Taglist :

@missmajdastark; @maisurii;

[dressycobra7]

@brave-and-gentle @wintrrxxo @sundew199 @reinersluvrr @shat-on-the-dick

Contact Names .ᐟ

ʚɞ: levi, eren, armin, jean, porco, reiner, erwin

note: you ask them what your contact name is on their phone !

warnings: cursing, suggestive, crack, kys joke in porco’s, f!reader

I BLOCK MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS

[demigoddessqueens]

Hello may I request a reader whose a star druid and that whenever they're in battle they call upon the constellation to fight with them or become the embodiment of the constellation as they're willing to do whatever it take to protect the one they love. Can it be with Bells Hells or Vox Machina or Even both.

Yeah I’ll give the Bells some love 💕

Masterlist 11

Imogen

She may be at a standpoint with her abilities, coming to grips with her arcane heritage, but she feels inspired in seeing yours at work, the entire forces of the Celestials at your disposal and the unapologetic nature you wield it with

Laudna

Summoning hounds and the dark ichor magic is her trademark but she is in awed fascination at seeing how your magic works, as if it wasn’t obvious enough her ichor hound gets along so well with your constellation hunting one

Orym

He’s felt so down, so lost and seeing you in your element at your strongest is still a bit of comfort to his downtrodden heart, there is still the bits of hope that remain (that it won’t end in tears and more destruction) as you summon the literal heavens to protect him

Dorian

He’s heard of such of your kind before in story books that he would sneak away to read with Cyrus, to see you summon these creations fills him with bittersweet pride at who he used to be

Fearne

A witch in her own right, she’s confident of her skills and is never short in giving you praise as well. Always looking for an excuse to be near you and/or trace the silver dots and lines on your skin

Braius

He may be a paladin of the Hells but he’s completely awestruck when you form into one of the Hunter constellations, looking for any excuse

FCG

The automaton was wary of his powers, given how strong the surges can become but he feels a kinship with you because of how you both realize you’re stronger than what you get credit for

Chetney

He is one of the biggest cheerleaders of the party when he sees you using your powers, sometimes even suggesting if you can create a “werewolf” one for him

Ashton

The Genasi just lays it on thick with the compliments towards you, asking constant questions about your different constellations, how long you have been around, etc.

[railroad-migraine]

Hi! If you're taking requests, I would love headcanons of how the members of Bells Hells would celebrate their s/o's birthday, as it's my birthday today ^^ thanks 💞

This has a bonus character at the end so keep an eye out for them 👀 enjoy and hbd cutie 💜

~ Poet

Bell's Hells (+bonus member) Celebrating Their S/O's Birthday 🎉

Ashton 💙

It's surprisingly cold out, so they wrap you up in one of their oversized heavy jackets and whisks you away to the market. It's a comforting weight, and it makes you both feel giddy and mischievous for the day ahead. Ashton brings you to a tacky general store full of useless trinkets and unusual items, let's you browse through the aisles to your heart's content. Purchases you one really expensive thing that caught your eye at a better quality shop, and manages to swipe a few cheaper knickknacks from vendors who give you grumpy attitudes on your special day. Holds your hand and kisses you stupid every chance he has, insistent and teasing.

-

Chetney 💙

You can't seem to find Chet at breakfast, which slightly dampens your mood while the rest of the party chime in and wish you a good birthday. You spend the day indulging yourself as you see fit - snacking on treats and buying that magical item you wanted, but it's a little lonely. That is until you hear a running and a shriek behind you, and the gnome almost knocks you off your feet. He fumbles with something in his hand, nearly dropping it several times due to the splinters at his fingertips, and he spouts apologies of not seeing you earlier and excuses of attempting perfection. You're at a loss when he presents a beautfully carved ring, and can't help but pull him in for a tight hug, his arms curling around your neck.

-

Dorian 💙

You're woken up to ticklish and energetic kisses being pressed under your eyes and following the shape of your face, the slope of your nose and the apples of your cheeks. Dorian's smile can be heard in his tuneful humming - you don't even have to open your eyes to know that. He helps you dress into something new and a lil bit fancy for the occasion, cooing all about his plans for the day - your favourite dinner, a show, maybe drinks with the rest of the party followed by a stroll about the town, arm in arm with your cheek pressed to his shoulder. He serenades you throughout the day just to see you smile shyly, pulls out your chair and keeps your glass full, and playfully lifts spoonfuls of dessert to your lips only to steal a kiss after.

-

Fearne 💙

You think you're being smooched awake by a beautiful faun, but when you open your eyes it's in fact Little Mister who is nibbling on your nose with a happy chirp. You laugh and huddle up with the familiar for a little longer until Fearne finds you both and joins the cuddle pile, giving you a proper kiss. She places a crown woven of flowers and ribbons on your head, adjusts it here and there until she deems it perfect before she declares you gorgeous and orders you to get ready for a day of shenanigans. This includes going to fancy boutiques and trying on shirts, dresses, scarves, hats etc. (and casually walking out without paying), sight seeing around town and sharing the most scrumptious and tooth-rottingly sweet cupcakes you can find.

-

Imogen 💙

She storms into your bedroom at the crack of dawn, gears you up in comfortable trousers and boots. Your eyes are still bleary from sleep and it's dark outside, but you have no choice but to wake up a bit and wrap your arms around Imogen's middle tightly when she commands her horse to take off at a very sudden and fast pace. You find yourself laughing, her hair tickling your face as the world whips by you, the horse ride so invigorating and spontaneous to start your day. Eventually, you settle down with a makeshift picnic-breakfast on a hill under a tree, cuddled up as the sun rises. She has your head in her lap and trails her finger so lightly across your face in little motions that you end up dozing off.

-

Laudna 💙

She perches at the foot of your bed with an almost nervous energy while you unwrap her present. You smile down at the package and begin to peel the parchment away reverently while she patiently watches. Just as Laudna insists it's nothing special, you softly gasp and lift up the handmade doll from the paper - with woolen hair styled in such a familiar way, and button eyes that match your own, the figure is undoubtedly an imitation of yourself. Scraps of cloth have been lovingly stitched together to resemble your signature armour and robes, and Laudna squeals with happiness when you launch yourself at her and fall to the floor. She scrambles for Pâté and Sashimi, who both greet and promise your doll a fun day is in store their fun-scary friend.

-

Orym 💙

He's planned you a party. Not a grand social event to rival that of lords and princes, but a party nonetheless with your favourite people in attendence. There's food and music and dancing, a roaring fire and friendly faces. Orym somehow managed to get in contact with some of your family and allies from before joining Bell's Hells, and even if they couldn't make it, he has their birthday messages and letters wrapped in a box for you to read once the day is over. He wipes the most delicious cake crumbs and frosting away from the corner of your mouth when he sits down at your side at the head of the table, eyes shining with so much warmth and affection you just about melt.

-

BONUS: Lord Ariks Eshteross 💙

You wake up in the early hours of the morning to so many wonderful smells oh my god. There's rummaging and clattering of bowls and utensils downstairs that you 100% know is coming from the kitchen, and as you slip out of bed and throw on a robe, you notice a small little present on your bedside table. Lord Ariks spoils you with a hot drink waiting at your table setting, sugary pastries and bitesize cakes, and fondly presses his lips to your knuckles when you join him for breakfast.

[monstersflashlight]

If I'm not pushing my luck, can you write something about you being the first hairy person that an elf has been with? Cause I was thinking about it and what if the first human(s) they've been with all shaved and they thought it was standard for us like it was for them, having no hair and all? I really do think they would be both confused and very curious/enthusiastic about it. And what if you were a bit self conscious about it too? 😪 Thank you I'm in love with your stories!!

Hi there! For everyone who hastn't read it, here's the question that started this idea. Enjoy!

Full bush

Elf x fem!reader || oral sex, pussy worship, body hair appreciation

When you got together you thought he already knew all he needed to know about humans. He was with a couple humans before you, two males and one female, so you thought he already knew... But you were wrong.

First time he saw you naked he stared. And stared. And stared some more to the point you got self conscious about it and ended up putting your clothes back on. You slept very unconfortab that night, and he said nothing. You might have cried a tiny bit. Next day he stared at you even with your clothes on, his eyes fixated in your genitals as you looked at him like he was the weird one (which he was). Later that day he broke down and asked you why did you have hair, if it was some kind of birth defect. You almost threw him out the house, but you breathed deeply and proceeded to explain to him that humans had body hair, that it was normal. He then explained that his previous humans had shaved or something because they were as hairless as elves and that's why he was so surprised when you took off your clothes. You understood his reasoning, but you were still a bit self-conscious, human culture already told you it was bad for you to have body hair, but you weren't about to let your elf boyfriend get away with it, too.

So you didn't take your clothes in front of him. Every time you slept together you put your pj's, not looking at him, and went to sleep with that. You weren't a fan of sleeping with clothes, but a woman had to do what a woman had to do. You could feel him hard behind you, but you weren't ready to face that disappointment and staring at your full bush.

But he wasn't having any of that.

By the fifth time you stayed at his house, he stopped you as you were getting undressed. You looked up at him in surprise, just to see his face flushed and a big tent in his sweatpants. "I- I want to see you," he stuttered.

"What?" You asked, your shirt halfway up your torso.

"I- I want to see your body hair," he confessed in a low tone. He looked so cute at the moment, but you were so fucking confused. You thought he hated your body hair.

You couldn't get the surprise out of your voice: "You do?"

"Yes. I- I liked it." He grabbed his dick and readjusted it, the tip pocking at the waistband of his sweatpants. Your mouth was salivating just looking at him shirtless and with those sinful grey sweatpants.

"You liked it?" You asked, your whole body vibrating with anticipation.

"Very much so..." He said, lowering his pants to let you see his erection already leaking profusely. You licked your lips and got undressed.

He stared and stared, and when your panties were finally on the ground, he licked his lips like you were his next snack. And good goddess if you weren't. He threw you on the bed and went down on you for hours. Your legs trembling around his head as he went to town and told you how great you were, how good you tasted and how glad he was that he discovered you had body hair. He sounded mesmerized by the fact and it made you blush as hard as ever as you came against his lips again.

By the time he was done, there was a pool of your juices under you and his face was completely drenched, but what surprised you more was the puddle of cum under him. You asked and he blushed hard, running to the bathroom to get you a towel.

Later, you discovered that he got so excited about you and your body hair and your pussy that he came at least four times while he ground against the mattress and eat you out. It was so hot thinking he got so worked up just by you being you that you had to push him down and blow him until he was crying.

You've never been so glad of his elf stamina.

[quiveringdeer]

casually scrolling tiktok and find this gem that's giving me jean x yn vibes

[witchofhimring]

Being the daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen and claiming Cannibal

This is sort of an offshoot of my Being the Daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen where Reader claims Cannibal instead of Tessarion. Thanks to @katiekatluvz for giving me the idea! Sorry for the long wait I finally have time to write after exams!

Minor Rhaenyra x Reader (platonic)

This happens before Aemond looses his eye.

This was dangerous, possibly suicidal. But after Aegon's comments earlier you could not take it anymore. It was another forced family gathering where Viserys tried to get his eldest child's family to sit with his second wive's. Things started out okay, there was eating and the occasional conversation. You were merely concentrating on just finishing your meal and getting the hell out. Everything fell apart, with it simple being an innocent comment made by Helaena. She had simply said; "When will you get a dragon Y/n?" Oh poor Helaena. She had meant well but of course Aegon had to stick his nose in matters not his own. "Maybe you would like a pig. Call it the pink dread." Aegon threw you a nasty look. Face heating, you shyly looked down, avoiding his gaze. Of course Aegon would find it funny to make fun of other peoples misfortune. "Shove off." Jaecery's snarled at Aegon. Aegon was not done, even when you had gone back to eating. "I guess one day you shall have a dragon. After all, you are a very strong girl." A thick blanket of tension blanketed the door. Everyone, even those at the other end, heard. Helaena's breath hitched, a low exasperated sound escaped Alicent. Aemond snorted. Your cheeks burned with hurt and shame. "Some of us burn hotter than others." Aemond added.

A fist slammed on the table. Visery's, despite being well past his prime, struck the table with enough force that it quivered. Even your mother, normally so vocal, had fallen silent. "You will not utter such slanders in this house." He snarled. At that moment Visery's did not remotely look like the loving grandfather you knew. Visery's glanced at his wife before ordering Aegon to his study. Hanging your head, you ran out of the room, ignoring your mother's cries.

Your door was locked, barring anyone from entering. Even your beloved mother. As the hour grew late there was silence outside. Night did nothing to calm the raging heat in your heart. Of course Aegon thought he was better, riding on oh-so-great Sunfyre and his silver Targaryen hair. And who was Aemond to laugh at you! He didn't have a dragon either!

Here you were, deprived of Targaryen looks and dragonless. Tears rolled down your cheeks. Outside a roar echoed across the water. Wiping the remaining tears you opened the window. A gust of wind nearly blew you back. Bellow the sea surrounding Driftmark thundered, crashing against rocks. Far ahead was a great black lump, so dark that even against the sky it was easily seen. You would have thought it was Vhaegar except that Laena and Daemon were in Pentos. Beyond a stretch of sand were the dragon caves. If one exited the gaves and ran across the sand they could reach the dragons. Sunfyre and Dreamfyre were snoozing in their cave. Vermithor and Silverwing were back at Kingslanding. There were others, of course. You entertained the idea it might be Meyles until the dragon roared once more. It's screech was nothing like you had heard. It sounded like metal being scrapped together. Yet instead of being afraid, an idea came.

Any sane person would have thought twice. Then again, Targaryens were not exactly known for their sanity. Waiting till the early morning, you slipped out. When the sun was just pocking over the horizon that Driftmark was quietest. The guards would be tired and few would be up. Down the halls you slunk, nearing the exit. There was a small side door leading to stairs. These stairs took one right down to the courtyard. Passing a pair of sleepy guards you slipped behind a pair of barrels. Now it was just down the steps. That was when you heard a noise.

A familiar drawl could be heard. Great. Aegon was awake. Quickly you ducked behind a pair of barrels by the door. He stumbled inside and right past you. "I should have kicked him." Once he was gone you looked left and right. Then came the hard part.

The court yard was empty. Not even your father Laenor would be out training. Beyond was the gate, with two guards standing sentry. If you could slip past them, and across the sand, then you could take a small passage that lead to the dragon cave.

It was down to luck. The guards would need to be distracted for long enough. Fortunately, there was luck on your side. The walls supporting the gate were made of stone. And they just so happened to be uneven pieces of stone. Meaning all you had to do was climb up. The guards were so focused on the other side that you could get up without being spotted. Small hands grasped the rocks and you climbed. It occurred to you at that moment wearing a nightgown was likely not a good idea. But it was too late to turn back.

The salty air whipped your hair. Reaching the top you had a view of the caves beyond. There were soldiers guarding but none were looking up. There were four you could see. And now that you had reached the top there was yet another problem. You had no plan other than wait and hope. It was poor planning strategy. Though in your defense you were ten. The sun was rising higher in the sky. Would you even be able to sneak out!?

"Change!" A call nearly caused you to jump up. Looking over the side you saw the guards marching away. Taking the chance you jumped down. The force in which your feet hit the ground made them sting. "Hey!" To your horror you saw guards rushing toward. Shit. Taking a deep breath you plucked up the courage and ran. Having a head start helped. But these were full grown men, and running in sand was hard. The only thing on your side was that they were covered in armor. It meant you were able to reach the dragon cave that remained unguarded. It was was left unguarded for a reason. Because none would ever dream of challenging The Cannibal. For a moment you looked at the dark passage, and then looked back. You could hear them calling out. "I've come this far." And with that, you headed in.

The first few steps plunged you into pitch black. The air tasted stale and the rocks threatened to rip open your feet. Most dragon caves were well maintained, but even dragon-keepers would not dare go near this one. A few steps later and a few crack in the walls gave light. Step by step you walked forward. Now you could smell it and it nearly made you gag. But you had come so far that to turn back now was not an option. You heard a deep rumbling and stopped. Even the foundations of this cave seemed to hum. When the noise stopped you proceeded. Ahead you saw the tunnel end. Finally you met The Cannibal.

Despite the dragons infamy few could describe it. In fact many did not survive such an encounter. And it was enormous. Only slightly smaller that Vhagar, The Cannibal turned his head and mad poisonous green eyes met yours. Dragon eyes had always fascinated you. They held this terrifying imperious gaze. But when you looked into The Cannibal's all you saw was a wild raging fire. You had heard of Wildfire, created by the lords of Old Valyria to mimic dragon fire. While you had never seen wild fire, you thought his eyes might be close enough. Dragon scales came in all colours, but black was rare. The only other dragon known to possess such a colour was Balerion the Black Dread. Smooth pitch black scales glistened in the sunlight. His great jaw had uncountable razor sharp teeth larger than you. The large tale swung around and The Cannibals body was facing you. Then he opened his mouth and fire curled at the throat.

"I will die." In that moment you felt fear and rage. You were as good as the rest of them. Why should you not have a dragon! “Dohaerās, Cannibal! Lykirī!” Those were the only words you could say. Something akin to fire swelled within you at that moment. A defiance bordering on madness. The fire in The Cannibal's seemed ready to burst forward. "Lykirī!" You thought those would be your last words. It was not fear you felt in that moment, but the desire to prove something "At least I tried, like a true Targaryen." The blast of white hot flame which would encase and disintegrate your body never came. Your eyes met his. The Cannibal was looking down at you with his imperious glance. Was he not going to burn you?

That was when you heard voices. It seemed the guards had decided to go in. Better to perish in dragon fire than whatever your mother might do to them for failing to protect her only daughter. Then you stepped forward. Now was not the time to be afraid. Already you had braved possible dragon fire. Over rock and bits of bone you stepped, ignoring the stinging in your feet. From The Cannibal was a ladder attached to a harness. "So The Cannibal once had a rider." At that moment you did not ponder too much. They said The Cannibal had never been ridden before. But since his very being was a mystery you supposed it was possible.

Scrambling up the rough ropes you desperately hurried to the top. "There she is! She's...she's on the dragon!" The Cannibal jerked back nearly sending you flying off. "Daor!" You ordered loud as possible. To your astonishment the dragon listened. Reaching the top you fastened the harness, securing you in place. The Cannibal seemed to know what you wanted, for the moment you were settled the dragon gave a great huff and speed down the corridor. Every jut of his muscle sent you roughly inching forward. "This is much more uncomfortable than I thought." You always imagined dragon riding as a smooth ride. But now you realized that was untrue. Then what would flying be like? You barely had any time to comprehend anything before sunlight was visible. The Cannibal then picked up speed. Suddenly The Cannibal launched into the air with a great jerk. Had you not been harnessed in you would have fallen. His leathery wing beat the air as the ground became smaller.

You would have smiled if it had not been for the fact your voice has disappeared. The thrill, terror and excitement nearly paralyzed you. The Cannibal was not going up smoothly. The dragon seemed to be doing his best in order to shake you off. Despite this the harness was well made, and thank the gods. You had just enough sense to seize the reins and pull at them. It did nothing to slow The Cannibal down but you were suddenly possessed with a renewal in courage. Sitting straight in your saddle there was suddenly a level of control you felt. The Cannibal must have felt it, for he leveled himself. Soaring above the clouds you finally looked down. "We really are close to the Gods." You muttered.

You flew several laps in the sky. It was less about commands and more about the connection between dragon and rider. You had to remain in control of your emotions. Not being used to dragon riding, your legs started to cramp. Deciding it was time to descend you ordered The Cannibal down. Surprisingly graceful, The Cannibal started to climb down. His cave became more clear. A crowd was gathering outside of the cave. You were not too surprised since they probably thought you dead. With a great thud The Cannibal landed sending sand into the air.

"Y/n!" You had never heard your mother scream like that. Practically leaping off the rope ladder you flew into your mothers arms. "Oh Gods Y/n!" Rhaenyra clutched you close with shaking arms. You mother who was usually so indomitable and strong was shaking and weeping. Her arms held you in a vise grip. "Y/n...never do that again!" Rhaenyra had broken apart, gripping you by the arms. Normally you would bust into tears and apologize. But a fire was ablaze in your chest was burning bright. Taking your mother by the hand you lead her to The Cannibal. Rhaenyra looked hesitant but seeing your determination encouraged her. Reaching out you placed a hand on The Cannibals warm scales. "Touch him." Rhaenyra's fingertips grazed the dragon. Then she steadied and placed her hand directly on the dragon. The Cannibal crooned and for the first time seemed something close to calm.

Looking back you saw your brothers, aunt and uncles. There was pride such as you had never seen on your brother's faces. Your eyes met Aegon's and Aemond's, for the first time you did not look away. This time it was them who looked away from your defiant eyes. You were Y/n Velaryon. Daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen. Rider of Cannibal. And fire dwelt within your veins like any blood of the dragon.

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Devil's Snare

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

𝑨𝒍𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝑫𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒍'𝒔 𝑺𝒏𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒉𝒂𝒔 𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆, 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒑𝒐𝒊𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒐𝒖𝒔. 𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒐𝒙𝒊𝒏𝒔 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒖𝒎 𝒐𝒓 𝒉𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒖𝒄𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔.

Description: Y/N is apprehensive when she is assigned the post of Aemond Targaryen's handmaiden. She expects him to be cold and cruel, and is surprised when he is actually kindle and gentle to her. All the while Aemond finds himself falling for his shy and skittish handmaiden.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Disclaimer: this is incredibly self-indulgent. I love Aemond and wanted to focus in on the softer sides of his character. I've planned 3 parts to this series but who knows.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of canon typical misogyny, female reader (sorry! This just makes it easier for the plot), handmaiden reader, slow-burn, lengthy?, potentially ooc Aemond but Ewan Mitchell did say Aemond just needed someone to love him.

Y/N was filled with trepidation as she approached the royal quarters, her movements slow as she fruitlessly tried to delay the inevitable. She supposed she should be grateful for her new appointment as Prince Aemond's handmaiden. But she found she'd much rather have continued on in the lower chambers of the keep. Alas, the matron had chosen her for the position, recently opened when the prince's previous handmaiden was mysteriously dismissed. Prince Aemond was known by many denominations, whispered rumours spreading like wildfire throughout the Red Keep. The One-eyed Prince. The fierce dragon rider who'd claimed the largest dragon in existence. The cold second son with a particular proclivity for swordsmanship. None of these served to assuage Y/N's fears for her new role. She was grateful, at least, that it was not Prince Aegon. She'd heard terrible rumours of his behaviour towards female servants. She'd heard nothing of the like about his brother.

The matron had told Y/N not to worry, that Prince Aemond barely acknowledged servants at all. And surely she was the perfect choice, with her excellent skills in needlepoint and, more significantly, her quiet and timid disposition which enabled her to move like a shadow. Y/N tried to even out her breathing and calm her wildly beating heart as she reached the door of Prince Aemond's chambers. Upon knocking and hearing no reply she entered anyway to find the Prince was not within, to her great relief. If she was particularly fortunate she might complete all of her tasks before he returned and avoid an interaction altogether. Quickly setting to work, she began to tidy and clean. Though Prince Aemond's quarters were already unexpectedly neat. Y/N considered this was perhaps a reflection of the controlled demeanour he always seemed to carry whenever she had spotted him in the Keep.

Turning her attentions towards making the bed she noticed a thin strap of leather strewn across it. Picking it up, upon closer inspection she recognised it to be Prince Aemond's eyepatch. Y/N frowned as she realised the strap was broken. She knew Aemond always wore it to cover the gaping wound that still remained from when he'd lost his eye in a brawl with his nephew. Y/N had once passed a group of handmaidens whispering by a stairwell about how the Prince purposefully wore the eye patch so as not to upset the ladies of the court, and hearing them erupt into giggles. She had found herself frowning at their laughter, thinking to herself that it was thoughtful of the Prince, chivalrous even.

The smooth feel of the leather in her hand brought Y/N back to the present, she was prone to losing herself in thought, and she came to the decision that she would mend it for him. Y/N knew the importance the eye patch held for him, indeed she was surprised he had left his chambers without it. Pocketing it, she quickly rearranged the Prince's bed sheets and, thinking the room sufficiently tidy, she exited the Prince's chambers to find her sewing kit.

Y/N had dedicated more time to mending Prince Aemond's eyepatch than was truly necessary, determined to make the stitches as neat as possible. It would be worn by a Prince of the Seven Kingdoms after all. Returning to the Prince's chambers that evening to stoke the fire and light candles, she began to fear her actions had been rash and presumptuous. Perhaps Prince Aemond would be angry with her for taking something so important from his room without his permission. Perhaps he did not feel a need for it any longer and she would simply be cementing the idea that he did if she presented the eye patch to him. By the time she reached his chambers she was wracked with nerves from reviewing in her mind every possible reaction the Prince might have to her actions, and a sickening feeling of dread settled in the pit of her stomach. She was once again relieved to find the Prince was not in his chambers. Though her relief was short lived, for no sooner had she lit the candles and begun lighting a fire than the the very object of her thoughts strode into the room. He halted briefly upon seeing her, but quickly moved to sit in a nearby armchair, seemingly ignoring her presence. The matron may have been right then, Y/N had worried for nothing.

But her heart dropped as she realised he was, in fact, wearing an eye patch. She had been stupid to think he should only have the one and now cursed herself for being so foolish. Y/N gnawed on her bottom lip with worry. Perhaps the Prince would be angered with her taking his belongings from his room without his permission. Or maybe he had meant to throw it away and would think her silly for presuming otherwise. Nonetheless, she determined that she would return what belonged to him. Finishing stoking the fire she rose from her knees and dusted off her skirts, before slowly inching her way over to the Prince. It was only when she stood directly in front of him that he raised his one good eye to meet hers, an eyebrow quirked in curiosity. Y/N wrung her hands nervously, shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other. She hardly knew what to say, and could not help stuttering as she spoke. "My Prince, I must apologise to you." Aemond seemed momentarily surprised by this, before his features settled back into a mask of indifference, though he leant forward at her words, his elbows resting on his knees and his chin on his knuckles. "Must you now?"

Y/N swallowed down thickly, before nodding. "I couldn't help but notice the broken eye patch upon the bed as I attended my duties this morning, and I took it to mend it. I realise now this was presumptions of me, but I had only thought to be helpful as I know you always wear it." Y/N's eyes widened as she realised her words might suggest she believed he should cover his wound. Holding her hands palm up in a supplicatory manor, her words spilled out quicker and even less elegant than before. "Not that I believe you need to wear the patch. I just thought it must be important to you. Oh I am making a mess of my words. Here, My Prince." She bowed her head and tentatively held the mended eye patch out to him, not daring to look in his direction. After a moment a hand came into her line of vision as Prince Aemond slowly took the patch from her, his much larger hand closing over hers briefly.

Y/n could barely stand the Prince's silence. If the rumours were to be believed, his silent composure concealed its own danger. And, being too fearful to look up at his face, she had no idea of his reaction to her offering. "What is your name?" Y/N's eyes snapped up to meet Aemond's good eye. She had not expected his question, spoken in such a measured tone, having anticipated his ire instead. "Y/N my Prince." Prince Aemond only hummed in response before getting to his feet, prompting Y/N to take several small steps backwards in order to maintain a respectable distance. Y/N averted her eyes to the floor, but nevertheless still felt his gaze upon her, her cheeks heating with embarrassment. "I thank you for your thoughtful actions Y/N. That will be all." She didn't have to be told twice, quickly curtsying to him and rushing hurriedly from the room.

Aemond frowned as the handmaiden fled from him, as if he had struck her rather than offered her his thanks. But she did seem a rather skittish little thing. He had never seen this particular handmaiden before, his mother having dismissed the previous one for reasons he did not care to know. As he'd entered his chambers he'd startled for a moment, taking in her features which he found decidedly pretty. He quickly dispelled himself of that thought and opted to ignore her presence, having come to understand it made the servants less nervous in his presence and more efficient. Taking a seat close to the fire the girl was stoking, he could not help keeping his eye trained upon her in interest as he observed a range of emotions crossing her face. He had not expected her to approach him then, almost admiring her boldness before she quickly turned into a stuttering mess, and it was only with a concerted effort that he understood her at all. Yet he found himself moved as he disentangled the reason for her apology from her frantic speech.

Looking down at his now mended eyepatch he could not help but admire her handiwork, the stitches were so neat and close together that you could hardly tell it had ever required mending. Aemond had carelessly strewn the broken eye patch on his bed that morning, he had many others in case of such incidents and had not thought of it since. But at the sight of it in her proferred hand, Aemond became aware of a strange feeling in his chest. He had hardened himself following the events at Driftmark that had lost him his eye, an act of violence against him which had never been avenged. He still felt the slight keenly for his nephew had never been punished for it. Aemond had not since felt such genuine kindness directed towards him, such care for this most essential part of him, even by his own family, with the exception of his gentle sister Helaena. His lost eye had ever been a painful subject to avoid. It was only a small matter really, the mending of an eye patch, but it carried a far greater significance for Aemond, who found himself charmed by this particular handmaiden's thoughtfulness towards him.

Y/N burned with embarrassment as she fled from the Prince's chambers. His reaction was admittedly better than she could have hoped for, but she'd still managed to make a complete fool of herself in this, their first meeting. She felt she could not have given a worse impression of her capability as his handmaiden and overstepped boundaries. Over the next few days she endeavoured to move quickly as she completed her tasks in the hopes that she would avoid the Prince entirely. She successfully managed to do so for two consecutive days by following the same schedule, only entering his room at hours she knew he would be otherwise preoccupied.

On the third day Y/N entered Prince Aemond's chambers, she was startled to see the Prince himself sitting in his armchair. The morning sunlight pouring through the windows cast his face in a soft glow that accentuated his features, which were admittedly beautiful. He was lazily playing with a coin, weaving it between his fingers. When she realised she'd been staring at his hands for an extended period of time she briefly raised her eyes to his face to see his mouth upturned in a slight smirk, and she quickly shifted her focus to completing her tasks. She moved quietly and efficiently throughout the room, trying with great difficulty to avoid looking in the Prince's direction, to pretend he was not there at all.

It would not do for her to turn back into a jittery, stumbling mess and prove what he must already have thought, that she was completely incompetent and unsuited to her position. Removing a tray of used cups and goblets from a side table, Y/N turned to take them back to the kitchens. Walking past Prince Aemond, she noticed out of the corner of her eye that he was wearing the eye patch she had mended for him and halted her moments to confirm she was correct. The Prince was looking at her almost expectantly, as if he'd been waiting for her to notice. With a barely perceptible nod of her head, she hastily left the room.

Aemond had hoped that exclusively wearing the eye patch his handmaiden had mended would assure her he was not angry with her for her actions. And yet he did not see her for the two days following their meeting, and Aemond realised she must have taken account of his movements to avoid being in his chambers at the same time, the clever minx. So on the third day he resolved to put an end to this ridiculous game of cat and mouse. Though it was his habit to rise early and leave for the training yard, he settled himself in his favoured arm chair to await the maiden's arrival. A satisfied smirk ghosted onto his face as she entered, clearly startled to find him still within his chambers and Aemond noted how she'd stared at his hands for several moments before turning to attend to her duties.

His brows furrowed in frustration as he watched her mill about the room, steadfastly ignoring him and avoiding looking in his direction entirely. He did not wish for her to be afraid of him. It was only when she was exiting his chambers that she glanced at him again and, finally, seemed to notice the eye patch he was wearing as she stared at it, rooted to the spot. A light dusting of pink rose to her cheeks before she nodded and swiftly departed, and Aemond assumed she had now realised he was not displeased with her. The moment she disappeared from his view, Aemond found himself wanting to see her blush again.

Y/N was still wary in Aemond's presence, a consequence of her own shy disposition and acute sense of awareness in the difference in their stations. However, she was no longer afraid of him, so to speak, and stopped trying to avoid being in the same room with him, simply finding a rhythm of getting on with her tasks whether he was there or not. He did not address her often, but thanked her each time she completed her survey of his room and turned to leave. His voice was smooth and quiet and Y/N noted that he was much more soft-spoken than his loud and overbearing brother. Prince Aemond clearly did not feel the need to shout to make his presence felt. Y/N had passed two weeks in her new post before there was any shift in the dynamic the Prince and his handmaiden had developed.

Y/N had finished lighting all of the candles in the Prince's chamber and had started collecting empty cups strewn about the various surfaces in the room when she spotted the eight legged monstrosity, prompting her to let out a high pitched shriek and drop the tray she'd been holding, sending goblets crashing to the stone floor. She had always been terrified of spiders, begging the other handmaidens to deal with them when she had worked in the lower chambers of the Keep. But it was just her now, and her heart beat wildly as she realised she would have no choice but to remove it from the Prince's room. She kept her eyes on the creature with a sickening sense of dread as it crawled along the length of the side table she'd been cleaning. But she heard Prince Aemond speak behind her, his tone somewhat demanding "What is the matter?"

Y/N tried to keep her tone even as she answered, but even she could hear the slight hysteria tinging her voice and knew he would not be fooled. "Simply a spider, My Prince. I have never been fond of them. I apologise for disturbing you with my outburst and I will deal with the creature and the mess forthwith." Taking a deep breath to steel herself for what she was about to do, she took a tentative step towards where the spider was still crawling, before letting out a small squeek of surprise as warm hands enveloped her waist and gently moved her to the side. She had not heard the Prince's footsteps, he moved so quietly. Wordlessly he scooped the spider into a goblet she'd dropped and walked to his balcony, opening up the doors to set it loose. By the time he'd returned, shutting the doors to block out the crisp night air, Y/N had come to her senses and cleared up the mess she'd made, tray back in hand. She felt immensely grateful to the Prince for stepping in as he had, clearly having sensed her distress, but she could not help feeling somewhat ashamed of her silliness.

Looking up from the tray she'd been holding as his boots came into her line of sight, she attempted to channel her sincere gratitude into her voice "Thank you, My Prince. I am most grateful for your kindness in stepping in, and I assure you it will not happen again." She watched as a strange look passed over Prince Aemond's features, before he leant his head down towards hers, his long platinum hair brushing against her shoulder with their proximity. "Spiders only look frightening little one, they will not harm you." There was a glint in his eye that hinted at a hidden meaning to his words, though Y/N could not understand what it was. Straightening up, Aemond lightly waved a hand in dismissal. "That will be all for this evening Y/N." Still slightly dazed from their former proximity, where she'd been close enough to smell his scent of leather, musk and pine, Y/N simply nodded before turning from him and speeding back to the servant's quarters. She felt the Prince's stare on her back until the door concealed her from his view.

Aemond had reread the same page at least thrice. He kept having to pull his eyes from his handmaiden's form as he watched her move about his chambers. She'd sparked his interest from their first meeting and though they interacted little, he consistently found himself watching her movements, though he could not tell why. Resuming his focus on his book, a shrill shriek had his eyes snapping back up to his handmaiden. Concerned she had hurt herself, perhaps cut her hand on one of the cups that had tumbled to the floor, his voice came out sharper than he'd intended in his urgency. "What is the matter?" He felt relief wash over him to learn of the reason for her outburst, and a small degree of amusement at the cause being but a little spider. This quickly diminished when he observed her genuine fear as she cowered away from the creature. She looked as if she were headed for battle rather than contending with a spider.

Rising from his seated position he quietly moved over to her, taking hold of her waist to move her aside and remove the spider himself. Returning to her side, he'd not expected the earnestness in her gaze as she thanked him. You'd have thought he saved her from Vhagar instead of a mere spider. But it was her reference to his 'kindness' that had sent his mind spinning. Kind was not a word oft associated with Aemond Targaryen, he was well aware of his reputation within the Red Keep. He felt that same strange sensation in his chest he'd noticed once before, when she'd handed him his mended eye patch. As warmth spread throughout his chest he realised he was endeared to have someone feel so positively towards him, to look to him for protection, to think him kind when this seemed laughable in conjunction with his somewhat fearsome appearance.

With a somewhat cocky smile, Aemond moved closer to the handmaiden, leaning his face close to hers. "Spiders only look frightening little one, they will not harm you." He'd hoped to subtly convey to her that he too held no danger for her, that she had no need of being so skittish around him. But he could see from the look of confusion that crossed her dainty features she had not understood his meaning fully. He did not wish to increase her level of discomfort around him so quickly straightened and offered her his dismissal. He tried not to address the sting of hurt he felt as she once again rushed away from him.

After Prince Aemond had gallantly saved her from the spider, Y/N had begun to feel more and more comfortable with him. He had not mocked her or made her feel silly for her actions, indeed he had not mentioned the incident at all. She realised that he had done nothing but try to make her feel comfortable around him and she had responded by treating him almost as if he were a snake about to strike at any moment. So she resolved to make a greater effort not to appear so frightened in his presence, her shyness be damned. She started out small at first, actually greeting him as she entered his chambers, though he seemed surprised she had even addressed him at all. Eventually she even began to ask after his day as she stoked the fire in his chambers and bid him goodnight for the evening. The Prince seemed to welcome her small attempts at conversation and readily responded, sometimes with quite extensive accounts of the events of the day.

Several days followed where their schedules did not align and Prince Aemond was absent every time Y/N entered his chambers. She tried to suppress a bizarre spark of dissapointment at this, not knowing when she had started to actually look forward to their short interactions. Dusting his bookshelf, she ran her hands over the ornate spines of the books. Laying down her duster as she carefully pulled one out to gaze at it, grazing her hand softly over the cover. "You take an interest in the Targaryen histories?" She was startled out of her reveries by Prince Aemond's question, not having heard his voice in a few days. Quickly replacing the book where it belonged she curtsied to him "I apologise My Prince, I should not have..."

The Prince walked over to her, his hair lightly swaying in tandem with his shoulders, until he was close enough to brush his arm against hers when he took the book back down from the shelf. "You are welcome to borrow a few volumes should they interest you." It was such a generous offer that Y/N was saddened to have to reject it. "Thank you My Prince, but I cannot read." Aemond seemed surprised for a moment before he cleared his throat and pulled his hands behind his back, removing the book from her line of vision. The Prince's voice was soft when he next spoke "Is it something you would like to learn?" Y/N's eyes snapped up to meet Aemond's, though she had to crane her neck to do so with him standing so close. Excitement had shot through her at a possibility she'd often longed for, she'd never had the opportunity to learn before. It was not considered necessary for her line of work.

But doubt began to fill her mind. Did the Prince mean to teach her himself? They'd come a long way from their first meetings, but she was still shy around him and could not but think such a situation would inevitably lead to embarrassment. Besides, he was a Prince and that would be beneath him. Prince Aemond did not break his focus from her but spoke before she could voice any of her concerns. "I will have my sister Helaena see to it." With that he turned from her and left his chambers entirely, leaving Y/N to stare after him, mouth hanging open at the suddenness of his departure.

Aemond had been pleased to find Y/N in his chambers, a welcome sight after many days and he quietly took in her presence as she ran her hands across his books. He watched her take a particular interest in a book detailing the histories of his House and felt a spark of something, perhaps excitement, at her sharing this interest with him. He himself was a dedicated scholar and was well versed in the histories of the House of the Dragon, such was his prerogative as a Targaryen Prince. Hoping not to startle her too much, he had asked her if this was in fact the case.

Frowning as she hastily replaced the book from whence she'd taken it, he quickly strode towards the shelf to take it back out and offer it to her. He'd thought it could be an opening for a potential friendship between them. He had noticed she'd begun to interact more with him of her own volition, taking this as a sign of her feeling increasingly comfortable in his presence.

His hopes came crashing down at his handmaiden's next admission "I cannot read." Of course, he'd been foolish not to think of it and cursed himself for potentially fracturing what little progress they'd made by potentially causing her embarrassment now. Nevertheless, he could not help himself from offering her the chance to learn, having seen her gaze so longingly at the books just moments prior. Aemond had in fact intended to teach her himself, and the initial excitement that lit her eyes at his suggestion had him believing for a moment that she would be amenable to the idea. That was before he watched her face fall, and various emotions flit across her eyes.

Perhaps he had been too hasty in his belief that she was now comfortable with him and this was the cause of her conflict. It pained him somewhat to think the idea might be so displeasing to her but he tried not to let it cloud his judgement as he tried to think of a solution that would be more acceptable to Y/N. It came to him to ask Helaena of her assistance. She had a gentle and calming disposition, at least to him, and perhaps Y/N would feel more comfortable with his sister than him. He left Y/N without waiting for her response, not wishing her to see his barely repressed dissapointment, and went to seek out his sister.

Helaena had willingly agreed to teach Y/N how to read, and Aemond had gratefully kissed his beloved sister on the crown of her head before returning to his chambers, hoping that his handmaiden would be pleased.

Y/N began to spend much of her time when she was not working occupied in the Princess Helaena's chambers. The Princess was a patient teacher and a kind soul, though she often spoke words that seemed oddly prophetic and disturbed Y/N, who could not decipher their meaning. She was grateful to the Princess for her help, and more still to Prince Aemond for securing this chance for her. More surprising was his unexpected willingness to answer any questions she had of the material she read with Helaena. The Prince seemed pleased at her questioning, always gazing at her attentively as he answered. She could not help thinking they'd managed to form a strange sort of friendship, despite her shyness and the stark difference in their positions, and she increasingly looked forward to each interaction.

Aemond was not surprised to see Y/N in his sister's chambers when he had come to visit that day. She was often there now, either leaning over a new text as his sister pointed different things out to her, or playing with his little niece and nephew. He was sure her presence was a great comfort to Helaena as well, and was glad of having introduced them. He was surprised, however, to see the look of horror on his handmaiden's face as Helaena placed a furry spider upon her outstretched arm. Her eyes widened so far it might have been comical, if he had not already been aware of her deep seated fear of the creature. All the same, he felt his heart stutter slightly at the sight, in the knowledge that his handmaiden would allow such a thing in order to please his sweet sister who was giggling slightly and cooing at her pet.

And in that moment Aemond realised what he should have done weeks ago, when he had first noted that feeling of warmth spread throughout his chest at Y/N's actions. He was falling in love with his handmaiden, or indeed already had. He was certain his mother would not be best pleased. He was a Prince of the Seven Kingdoms and was surely set for a match that would be politically beneficial to his House. In truth, he found it difficult to care. He had lost so much at such a young age, and though he now rode the largest dragon in existence, he still often felt like that scared, insecure little boy who'd been mocked by his brother and nephews. He had dedicated so much of himself to embodying the role of a true Targaryen Prince, and yet his own father essentially ignored him, favouring his bastard nephews over him.

Taking all of this into consideration, was it truly wrong for him to look for a love match with someone he truly cared for? He came to his decision there and then. Aemond wanted Y/N and he would have her whether it pleased his family or otherwise. The greater problem lay in Y/N's meek disposition and wariness around him now, which had admittedly diminished but was ever present. She could hardly stand to meet his gaze for more than a few moments at a time. The Prince resolved that he would find a way to warm her heart to him, and took a step forward to rescue the object of his affections from her current predicament.

[avocado-writing]

Kinktober #6

6. A/B/O Heats or Ruts // Sadism-Masochism // Anonymous Sex (Old Man Logan x Reader)

You see him at the bar most nights that you’re there, nursing a whiskey and keeping to himself. On the occasion he deigns to lift his gaze from his drink you always feel it on you, hot and heavy and oh so aware of every movement you make.

You like it. Your skin lights up beneath him, a little static dancing over you where his eyes settle. But every time you turn back to your fiancé and his dull friends and try to be interested in a conversation they have no intention of including you in. 

Why do you suffer through it? Well, things have been this way for so long now that you don’t know what they’d look like were they to change. Grit your jaw and bear it, it’s only the rest of your life, after all.

The man closes the gap the first time you enter the establishment alone. You swig down your beer, bitter and nasty but the cheapest thing they sell, grimacing at each hoppy mouthful. After a long moment he pulls back the stool in order to settle in next to you at the bar and you’re intensely aware of the size of him. 

“No boyfriend tonight?” he rumbles, broad fingers raising his glass to his lips.

“Fiancé,” you correct half-heartedly. Is he still your fiancé? It was a pretty vicious fight you got in not two hours ago, and right now the ring on your finger feels like a shackle. He picks up on your unease and chuckles, and oh, it is a lovely and rich sound.

“Mmm, sure.”

The two of you lapse back into silence, nursing your drinks. 

“We got into an argument,” you confess when you feel like more words are necessary. The stranger cocks a brow.

“He seems like an asshole.”

“What would you know?” you ask, desperate to defend for some reason. Pride, perhaps. He finally fixes you with a look, sunken hazel eyes boring into your soul. You are transfixed.

“Seen the way he treats you when you’re out together. Like you’re an annoyance. A second thought. Doesn’t deserve you, sweetheart.”

When his warm hand moves to rest on your thigh you don’t make any effort to shake it free. You let it stay there, possessive. You tap your nails on the pocked bar and consider his words.

The stranger moves in, closing the stale air between the two of you. His breath is warm on the shell of your ear as he speaks, gravelly velvet.

“Does he even make you come, honey?”

You should throw your drink in his face and slap him. Instead you feel your cheeks get warm.

“No,” you confess, a whisper. The stranger looks quietly smug at knowing this before you could even voice it. He swallows down the last of his liquor before standing, holding the hand that was on your thigh out to you as an invitation.

“Let me take care of you.”

You eye your beer, decide not to finish it, and take his hand.

“Can I get your name?”

“Maybe if you like what I do to you,” he states and your cunt floods.

He leads you out to a limo in the empty parking lot, sliding the key inside the door and holding it open for you. You cock your head to the side, silently asking a question.

“The driver,” he chuckles. Fuck. Yeah, okay, after hearing that laugh, he can do whatever he damn well likes to you. You’re going to fuck this limo driver in the backseat and he’s going to make you forget your fiancé’s goddamn name. 

The moment you enter into the limo he’s upon you. The door slams behind him as he holds your head in his hands, bringing your mouth to his for a rough kiss, claiming you as his. You let him as his beard scratches you. His tongue swipes against your own, hot and tasting of rich liquor, and his hands go for your jeans. You buck up into his touch and let him strip you without complaint, let him explore every inch of your skin he unveils. His hands are calloused but tender, caressing each new part of you he unveils, and when he touches between your legs? Oh, heaven. Heaven. 

Your clothes thrown across the backseat and him still fully in his suit he fucks you with his fingers, one hand pistoning in and out of you, the other rubbing rough circles on your clit. Your orgasm hits you with such force that it’s like a freight train - your head thrown back and eyes blurry with tears and stars as you squirt up the length of his thick forearm. Another one of those delicious chuckles as he licks his fingers clean.

“Did you know you could do that, baby?”

You shake your head, desperate for a repeat of it. The stranger doesn’t leave you hanging. He wrestles with his fly just enough to free his cock, hard and red and dropping with need for you. The size of it is something to behold but you don’t get a chance to adjust before he’s lining himself up and slowly pushing inside. Each inch is a gorgeous stretch that takes your breath away, his hand stroking your hair as he talks you through it.

“That’s it, sweetheart. There we go. You’re being so fucking sweet for me, hm? Letting me fuck you in the back of my limo like this… you’re dirtier than anyone’s ever imagined…”

When he reaches his lips to yours you can taste the orgasm he kissed off of his own fingers. You moan into his mouth as he starts to move, the glorious length of him the pinpoint of your entire universe. Pulling out to the tip, slamming back home, whispering strings of filthy praise in your ear. All you can do is hang on and trust him to take care of you, the way he has once already.

It isn’t long before that sweet pressure builds up again. His cockhead brushes the inside of your walls and you come all over his cock, drenching the front of his suit in a way he looks pleased by. His grip tightens as he finishes inside of you, spilling inside of you hot and thick. You feel utterly claimed. You have been ruined for anyone else. 

He helps you sit up and redress, offering you an unopened bottle of water. A moment of silence passes as the smell of sex settles into the leather seats.

“I’ll drive you home…”

Your grip on his forearm is vice-like.

“Take me back to yours,” you beg. It doesn’t matter that you don’t know his name, you don’t need to. He’s taken better care of you in one night than your fiancé has in years. 

He softens at the pleading in your voice, those hazel eyes tender. 

“Okay, sweetheart. Okay.”