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fioiswriting · 2 months

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The sea and the fire

“Fire and water looked so lovely together. It was a pity they destroyed each other by nature.” - R.F Kuang

Summary : when you're married to your childhood sweetheart who becomes your enemy and you get lost in the terrible maze of politics.

[previous chapter] [masterlist]

Rating : None for now, will be explicit 18+ later MDNI

Pairing : Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon/Strong!niece!Reader (There will be some Cregan Stark x Reader later)

TW : none for now except not proofread. TW will be added as the story progresses.

Words count : 4408

AN : Hi everyone!! I hope you're all doing well. So, MONTHS later, I've finally decided to post chapter 2. Sorry for the wait.

[About this story This fanfiction is inspired by an RP I started with my girlfriend (@irmawrites, go check her work) in early 2023, which is still ongoing. My girlfriend writes for her OC (who is the daughter of Viserys and Alicent) as well as for Aemond and Cregan, while I write for my OC (who is the daughter of Rhaenyra) as well as for Aegon and Cole mostly. This fanfiction doesn't cover exactly the same events, I've changed some things, added some others and omitted some. But it follows the main storyline. The character of Irma is a nod to my girlfriend and is based on another of her OCs (Alicent's niece). I'm keen to turn this story into fanfiction and I hope you'll like it! ❤️ I know there's a ton of fanfiction out there based on the Aemond x Rhaenyra's daughter trope. If you don't like it, if you feel uncomfortable, or if you've read too much of it, I'd suggest you read another fanfiction written by one of the many talented authors on this platform ❤️ The story will unfold in several arcs, with the first arc building up the relationship between the reader and Aemond. The tone is therefore lighter. The following arcs (which I can't wait to get to!!) will gradually introduce a lot more angst (my favourite thing to write). The tone will be radically different. Overall, the fanfiction will sometimes be based on elements of the book, and sometimes on the show, with my own interpretations. Please bear in mind that my dialogue will sound very "modern" because I struggle to write medieval dialogue in English, as it's not my mother tongue.]

Also English is not my first language, so sorry for the grammar mistakes !!

After all that talk, ENJOY <3

Chapter 2 : Familiarity

There was a sense of renewed familiarity.

You had regained your childhood bedroom and with it your landmarks. Of course, you still missed Dragonstone. And that could seem strange to some - Dragonstone was just a damp cave, a pile of stones perched on a rock. You were in King's Landing, now. You lived in opulence, in a royal comfort unmatched by the perch above the sea where you had spent most of your youth.

But Dragonstone had a charm you couldn't find in King's Landing. Perhaps it was the stillness of the library where you spent all your time, lost among the scrolls of parchment and the thick tomes, or perhaps it was the sound of the crashing waves that rocked you on stormy nights, you weren't sure.

But somehow a sense of familiarity had returned. Your old room hadn't changed much, despite Alicent's questionable alterations to the decoration of the Red Keep. You had found an old toy in the shape of a dragon, and even some old paper on which you had practised your precise handwriting under the strict gaze of a stern Septa when you were a child. It was a memory frozen in time, a kind of testimony to the past. A room that reflected the little girl you were when you left King's Landing.

But perhaps you could change it to your liking, to reflect the young woman you had become. Perhaps it was a way of keeping you occupied before you left again. After all, your mother had promised that your stay would only be temporary. Just time to sort out some inheritance issues. Time to try and heal your family's wounds. Time to secure your family's future. As if the hope of you all rested on your shoulders; the only guarantee that your family wouldn't descend into a bloody escalation, or something like that.

And yet, even though you'd only been here a short time, you'd already gotten into trouble, and it was Aemond himself who had to rescue you. You hated the idea.

You hated the fact that he'd come to your aid.

You hated the fact that you owed him, that you were indebted to him.

Fortunately, your little escapade hadn't been reported - you didn't want to disappoint your mother, or see the reproachful look on her face, even though you were aware that she might not be in the best position to make a comment. You were close to your mother. You were her eldest. You were her only daughter. She cherished and loved you, and you knew you could share everything with her. But you cherished your secret freedom, and you feared that her concern for her only daughter would give her the bad idea of assigning you closer supervision.

You didn't need a chaperone. You valued what little freedom your condition as a daughter afforded you.

As you slipped under the sheets, your thoughts kept returning to Aemond. The way he'd protected you, the way he'd carried you on his shoulder - it was humiliating, you weren't an object. And the way you had planted a kiss on his cheek. An impulsive act. A foolish act. You had to admit that you weren't averse to doing it again.

It just didn't make sense. Why had he come looking for you when he'd never answered your letters? He'd probably felt superior, after calling you and your brothers bastards, he'd probably decided you weren't good enough to be his friend anymore. All this time, all these years, you'd been waiting for a word from him - a mere reply to the letters you'd sent. It never came. You concluded that your friendship had ended, in silence, after all you had done for him; after reassuring him, after holding his hand while the maester tried to repair the broken flesh on his face as best he could.

Had he really been your friend for even one day, or had it all been a facade, a role he'd played? Had he ever been sincere?

You were furious.

Rhaenyra had stroked your hair through every disappointment that gripped your heart like the loving mother she was. Daemon - Daemon had soothed you in his own way, telling you again and again that Aemond wasn't a good man, and that you would save your heart by forgetting him.

But now he had come looking for you. Something had changed. He had taken a step in your direction. You were lost. You were angry, but it was not just anger. There was something else underneath that pile of confusion and resentment. His approach unsettled you. Every step he took towards you, every word he said, sent a whirlwind of conflicting emotions through you. A burning curiosity. An irresistible attraction.

You hated yourself for thinking it, but maybe your betrothal wasn't such a bad idea. Maybe you could retrieve the complicity of your childhood.

Maybe it had never really disappeared.

In the early hours of the morning, the smell of warm bread tickled your nose even before you felt the warmth of the sun's rays through your chamber window. You rolled onto your side to steal a few more minutes of comfort, stifling a grunt into your pillow. You waited fatefully for the moment when Celia or Jeyne would come and wake you.

"Wake up you lazy groundhog, you've got things to tell me!"

But the high-pitched, overly cheerful voice that echoed around your room wasn't Celia's, and it certainly wasn't Jeyne's. You sat up immediately, as if someone had thrown a bucket of water over you, your fingers rubbing your tired eyes to make sure you weren't dreaming.

Irma Hightower was standing in your room, in a gown more extravagant than ever. You wanted to throw yourself into her arms.

"It was usually me who overslept in the morning and you who had to wake me up," Irma exclaimed, placing the tray she carried awkwardly under her arm on the table with a loud clatter, causing the tea to overflow from the cup and drip onto the wooden table. "But I reckon that sneaking out seems tiring." She punctuated his remark with a knowing wink before dusting off her dress as if she'd just worked in the straw or done the most strenuous physical labour in the world.

Still too sleepy to make sense of your friend's words, you frowned as you looked around for your two handmaidens, the ones who woke you up every morning, helped you get dressed and brought you your meal. "Where are -"

"I dismissed them for the rest of the morning," Irma replied without letting you finish the sentence. That explained the tray and the near disaster. "But here's your breakfast. Gods, did you know a tray was thatheavy? " She paused briefly, barely giving you time to wake up properly.

Irma Hightower was a tornado. She swept away everything in her path - she carried away hearts and minds with equal ease, leaving a whirlwind of chaos behind her. Wherever she went, she stirred the air with unbridled energy, forcing others to adapt to her frenetic pace or be wiped out by her determination. But it would be a lie to say you weren't happy to see her. You sat down on the edge of the bed and stretched, your arms reaching for the ceiling before tilting your head to one side. A smile curved the corner of your lips as you watched your friend. You wondered what Irma was doing in your room in the early hours of the morning, especially when, last you heard, she was supposed to be in Oldtown furthering her education.

To tell the truth, you might have had an idea why she was here. You just didn't want to subject yourself to your friend's interrogation - some secrets should remain your secrets.

And what you'd done yesterday was one of them.

"'So?" she asked with a mixture of overflowing curiosity and impetuosity, her brown curls twirling around her face.

"So what?" you sighed as you went behind your dressing screen to remove your nightgown. You slipped into a flowing ocean-blue dress adorned with pearls and embroidery - one of your favourite gowns, a creation that reminded you of your favourite element: the sea.

Unlike your brothers, you weren't made of fire and blood. You were made of sea and storm, and you knew deep down that this was perhaps hypocritical - your own appearance reminded you of it every day. But it was what your heart had always told you, and you'd come to believe it, too. The feeling of your feet in the water and the breeze on your face, its salty taste against your lips, was the one that brought you the most comfort.

"So what happened yesterday ?” Irma insisted. Her voice grew impatient. "I saw you.”

But you ignored her, busy wriggling to reach the lacing at the back of your dress. In vain. You weren't flexible enough. "Since you've decided to play the handmaid today, help me get dressed," you replied, appearing on one side of the screen, your hands gripping the fabric tightly, your back to her. Irma rose with a long sigh - it was just for show, you knew - and came over to you. You smiled mischievously. You had to admit that you enjoyed seeing her in this role, so opposite to who she really was. You wondered what her time in Oldtown had been like; whether she'd been treated like the spoilt brat she truly was, or whether, on the contrary, she'd had to learn patience, faith and discipline - all qualities that didn't characterise her.

"I could actually keep you as my lady in waiting, you know. You'd be good for that. Forced to follow me everywhere, I'd love that."

You didn't need to see her to know that she rolled her eyes. " I am the Queen's niece. I was made for more than that."

When her fingers became tangled in the lacing of your dress, she spoke again, her voice caressing the back of your ear as she tugged at the lacing with a little more force: "You haven't answered my question."

How could you forget that Irma was so perceptive? And above all, how could you forget that when Irma wanted something, it was impossible for her not to get it? You weren't going to get away. She would insist, until you fell for her angelic pout and her round eyes that tried to win you over.

It reminded you of your shared youth - the times you spent together, swapping secrets and gossip, talking about your joys and sorrows. You had been inseparable before you were forced to return to Dragonstone, and she to Oldtown.

"Nothing happened. At least nothing like you may think," you admitted, turning to smooth the front of your dress. You whirled around, the fabric rising gently around you like a bluish wave. "How do I look?"

"I wouldn't describe being carried around like a sack of flour on your dark uncle's shoulder as nothing. Especially in your family."

Irma inspected your outfit, her eyes expertly examining you from top to bottom and then from bottom to top, looking for the slightest detail that would have spoiled her work. She brushed away a stray strand of hair that had fallen across your face.

"Did he kiss you?" Her eyebrows arched, her mouth forming a playful pout of false surprise. She was clearly determined to decipher your every secret, to expose them. You hesitated for a moment, to cast doubt, to let her imagine more - but you were afraid of the repercussions this might have on you. You weren't sure that Irma knew how to hold her tongue. And you didn't want to risk exposing yourself to Aemond's irritation over false rumours. Not when you'd planned to play with him a bit; to prove to him that you had the upper hand, that you could have him wrapped around your little finger and drive him mad. You were still suspicious of him. You hadn't really figured him out yet. You just knew he'd changed since the last time you'd seen him, but you weren't sure how much.

"No, he didn't kiss me," you repeated, putting the same emphasis on the word as your friend. You walked over to the table to sip your still steaming cup of tea. You could feel Irma's round eyes on your back - she was waiting for you to say more. She probably had a dozen unanswered questions: why had Aemond brought you back like this? Where had you been? Who had you been with? What had you done? But you didn't answer right away, biting into the crusty bread.

"He just... came to fetch me," you finally admitted between two bites, your mouth half full - it was a far cry from the princess manners in which you'd been raised. Sitting on your bed, Irma stared at you with her brown eyes - the same as her aunt's. "I was with Aegon. In King's Landing. And I got lost."

That was enough. Irma didn't need to know everything; after all, it wasn't a lie if you only omitted certain details that you deemed relatively unimportant.

Or that Irma didn't need to know.

But the revelation provoked a silence. Your friend didn't answer immediately. Her eyes narrowed, revealing a fine line between her eyebrows, and her lips pursed into a bitter pout. She looked troubled, her fingers twitching in her lap. "I didn't know you were close to Aegon."

If you didn't know her so well, you wouldn't have detected the note of reproach in her voice. Was it jealousy? Was your friend jealous of the time you spent with Aegon?

You weren't sure you understood. He was married - and more importantly, as you remembered, Irma hated him for his debauchery and the alcohol he drank to excess.

But this was no time to argue, and you preferred to play it safe. There would be plenty of time for your investigation later, when Irma's suspicions would be at rest. "He's my uncle and... he suggested he show me the streets of King's Landing because I was feeling bored."

And the idea seemed liberating at the time. A moment of stolen freedom, away from the court, away from your duties. Where you were no longer the model princess, the paragon of virtue, but just another girl, lost in anonymity. You weren't sure she understood - she'd always loved the court, the gowns and the politics. You too, of course. It would be a lie to say you weren't made for it; for the life your status as a princess could offer you. You cherished the comforts and loved the responsibilities that came with your role. But sometimes those same responsibilities – and duty above all - stifled you. You needed solitude. To be somewhere else.

"It's dangerous. You could have been harmed!" Irma said, crossing her arms over her chest with an air of concern and annoyance. "You can't just follow a man like Aegon into the city," she sighed.

Some truth was hidden in her words, and you were aware of your lack of rationality, of the stupidity of your foolishness. The danger you had put yourself in, too, for if Aemond hadn't intervened... You didn't want to think about it. The dirty hands and lecherous looks those men gave you still made you shudder. All those risks for an illusory feeling of freedom, wasn't it a high price to pay?

Aemond had come for you. The humiliation still burned on your cheeks.

"Lost in your thoughts?" Irma asked impatiently, offering you her arm as if she'd waited too long for you to come out of your reverie, "thinking about your Prince Charming again?"

You gave her a little tap on the arm, your eyes raised to the sky at the broad smile that stretched her lips, but you accepted her invitation anyway. "Fine, let's go. I heard that they are training this morning. And I know you're not indifferent to Dornish charm." You winked at her. And arm in arm, you and Irma walked through the corridors of the Red Keep towards the courtyard.

Aemond's movements were precise and swift. Faced with Ser Criston's Morningstar, he moved skilfully, as nimble as a cat. You leaned against the parapet of the ramparts; your eyes riveted on the two silhouettes that seemed to be dancing in the courtyard amidst the small crowd that had gathered around them. Irma didn't miss a moment of the spectacle, and you wondered if there was a man she didn't find charming. Aemond, probably. You knew she didn't bear any affection for him - he was too serious, too stern. Too scary, too.

"Did you get tired of Oldtown, is that why you're here?" you asked teasingly, glancing briefly at Irma.

She leaned towards you as if to share a secret, not taking her eyes off the show the two men were offering. "They didn't want me anymore," she confided. "I used to drive the maesters and the septas mad. It was amusing."

You should have known better. Irma was too stubborn and brash to be around men and women who had dedicated their lives to knowledge. She was intelligent, there was no denying that, but she lacked the patience and diligence that the study of texts demanded. Though she had spent her childhood in King's Landing, perfecting her courtly education at her aunt's side, her rebellious attitude had sent her straight back to Oldtown. And then, she had threatened the Maesters and the Septas - she belonged at Court and she was convinced of it.

"And how is Daeron?"

"As courteous and charming as ever," she replied.

Aemond disarmed Cole and everyone applauded; including Jace and Luke, who you could recognise in the crowd. Your betrothed's eyes shifted from the spot he was staring at in the crowd - your brothers? - and looked up at you for a moment. You wondered if Aemond had seen you, if he had felt your gaze on him, and if that was why he had become fiercer in his attacks. A strange sensation arose in your belly, as if a swarm of butterflies were fluttering in your stomach, making your heart beat faster. You forced yourself to suppress your emotions, which you blamed on all the time you'd spent away from Dragonstone. You refused to admit that it was Aemond's gaze that you sought more than any other, especially after the events of the previous day. Especially when you could still feel his skin against yours, his firm hands around your body, his face just a few inches from yours.

You wondered what had possessed you to kiss him on the cheek.

You wanted to play with him, that was certain. But you refused to subject your heart to the whims of love. Not after the heartache you'd felt when you found out he'd forgotten you so easily.

It was nothing serious.

You met Aemond's gaze. The intensity of his lilac eye had this very capacity to send shivers down your spine. He didn't even crack a smile, and looked away as if nothing had happened.

"I'll see you later," Irma said, squeezing your arm, before turning on her heels to - presumably - find some male company. Once you were alone, you walked down the steps that led from the ramparts to the courtyard. Your steps instinctively brought you to where Aemond was standing, ready to sheathe his sword.

If he seemed surprised to see you, he didn't show it. His icy eye rested on you, unreadable as ever.

"Lady Strong."

"We should talk," you began, ignoring the unpleasant way he had just addressed you. Lady Strong. The nickname left a sting of humiliation, and under normal circumstances you would have reacted. You would have defended yourself, you would have thought of something witty to retort - but today you had decided to take a step towards peace. You had decided to show that you hadn't come here with any animosity, even though everything inside you was screaming to make him swallow his insolence.

"There is nothing to talk about," he replied mechanically. Cold. Distant. Disinterested. Syllables sharp and icy.

But yes, there were a thousand things to talk about; the betrothal that would lead to your certain future marriage, the events of yesterday, the letters he had never answered, his hostile and cold attitude towards you. There were all these things and more, but neither of you seemed to know how or where to begin.

"About yesterday -"

"I haven't spoken a word to anyone. Your little secret is safe with me. You can rest assured, niece."

That's not what you meant. It wasn't that you wanted to talk about - it was everything around it; it was the reasons, it was how he had found out, it was the consequences, it was the kiss on his cheek, it was the thick tension between you that you were sure he had felt too. It was all these things.

You took a step towards him. Suddenly you felt yourself bubbling. And as if you'd grown wings, you closed the distance between you without looking away.

"Why?" you asked, your tone more urgent. You wanted to push him over the edge. You wanted him to admit what you knew for a fact that he would never be able to. "You could expose me. Tell everyone about my little escapades. Make me lose all credibility. End our betrothal." You paused, leaning your body towards him, your warmth mingling with his.

You felt him hold his breath. He tensed, straightening his neck, tilting his head slightly to the side to watch you.

"Why exactly would I do that, Lady Strong?"

Because you hate me, you were tempted to reply. Because you hate me, just as you hate my brothers. Because you cut me off all those years ago, without a word. And despite all the affinities that could bring you together, despite the fond memories of your shared childhood and your closeness, despite the love you harboured for him, you were loyal to your siblings, like he was to his. Whatever you did, you would always be associated with them. Your family. So wasn't it normal for him to see you as an extension of the hatred he felt for them?

At your silence, he continued, this time in High Valyrian: "I am not the one who despises the other. You know that."

Hate was nothing more than a form of passion.

But you weren't sure it was hate you felt for Aemond - no, the hate would come later, stronger, hotter than ever. For now, you felt disappointment and a form of betrayal after the friendship that had bound you together for more than a decade.

"I am not the one who is determined to make you my enemy."

Enemy, like water to fire. Trying to destroy each other by nature.

"And yet, you treat me like one," you replied. Sharpness staining your voice.

He let out a hm. He was still staring at you; the sensation was almost disturbing. He took a step in your direction, violating your breathing space. You had to lift your head to maintain eye contact. Then he leaned towards you, the corner of his lips turned up slightly in a smirk.

"I wouldn't have come to rescue you if you were my enemy."

The words barely out of his mouth, he straightened and took a step back, giving you the courtesy to walk away as your cheeks turned red. You didn't need him to remind you of what had happened yesterday. The memory was still frozen in your mind, clear and intact. The ghost of his touch like a burn. You wondered if he felt the same; if he thought about your lips on his cheek, if they had left an invisible, indelible mark on his skin, like his fingers on yours.

You had to change the subject. Quickly. Before you got caught at your own game.

Your hand came to rest on the hilt of his sword on the table beside the training area. You lifted it. It felt heavy in your hand, still warm from Aemond's grip.

It was strange, this power in your hand. A weapon that could take a life. Too big and unsuitable for your delicate fingers, but fascinating.

"Teach me."

"No," he replied immediately, following your every move with his icy gaze, as if he feared you might hurt yourself. You rested the heavy sword on the wooden table before turning. You approached him again.

"Daemon taught me how to use a dagger. At least he taught me where to aim to hurt." You flatten your hand against his chest, just below his ribcage. His body stiffens beneath your palm. "He said it was to protect me from dangerous men." Your gaze travelled from your hand to his eyes.

Aemond chuckled. He didn't try to push you away. On the contrary, he kept your hand pressed against him. His fingers wrapped around your wrist, and he guided your hand to his jugular, where you could feel his heart throbbing against your fingertips.

"First lesson: that is where you aim to kill." Caught off guard, you tried to withdraw your hand, but Aemond held it in place, your fingertips on his skin, your eyes both searching and challenging each other. The air was charged. Tense. Like a cloud before a storm. You held your breath. "But you wouldn't dare hurt a fly."

He released your wrist and gripped your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to step back until your back hit the table. He leaned in. His face so close to yours that you could almost feel his warm breath melting into yours. A few inches and you could close the gap between your lips. A few inches and -

"Well, niece. I hope to see you for dinner. And, of course, I expect you to behave."

With that he released you. With that, he turned on his heel.

He stopped. And without looking back, he added: "And please. Don't make a habit of me saving you.

Well, you were evenly matched.

#aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #hotd x reader #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd fanfic #the sea and the fire

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latenightdaydreams · 3 months

Note

Can you write part3 of stepmother reader? I'm waiting for that!!! ❤️❤️

Yes! omg I'm so sorry this too so long! Thank you for being patient with me💗

König x Stepmother!Reader Part 3 (fem)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4

MDNI🔞

Tags: @lhhlver

Master List ✍🏽

>cw: fem/afab, p in v

1.5k word count

“Mein Sohn, das ist wunderbar!” Irma, König’s mom, exclaims as she hugs you tightly.

König stands with his hands on his hips, a prideful smile on his face. His eyes trace your body up and down. He just broke the news to her that you're engaged. Felix wrote him out of the will and sent you divorce papers. That was his chance to swoop in and take you as his own.

Irma lets go of the hug and looks at you with a wide smile on her face, “I’ve been waiting for him to settle down and make a family!”

“Mama,” König rolled his eyes and chuckles. He’s a fully grown 46-year-old man and his mom still treats him like he’s a child. He knows it’s out of love, so he doesn’t make a big deal out of it.

“Was? Ich bin so glücklich!” Irma laughs, walking to König and pinching his cheeks. He laughs and looks over at you with a blush on his face.

“She still thinks I’m a child.” He chuckles.

“Ja! Natürlich, bist du mein Sohn!” Irma walks to the kitchen, gesturing for you both to follow her. “Setz dich.”

König pulls out a chair for you at a small wooden table in his mom's kitchen. You take a seat and König sits next to you. Irma makes a pot of coffee as she continues to speak.

“So, did you visit your father yet?”

You look over at König, and he looks back at you with a smirk.

“Nein. Why?” He clears his throat.

“I heard he married some 20 something-year-old.” Irma sits at the table with a humored look on her face.

“Hm? Really?” König tries to act surprised.

“They won’t last a year.” Irma laughs, causing you and König to laugh.

The situation was awkward, and you couldn’t wait for the topic of conversation to change. König can see that you’re nervous, so he reaches over and places his hand on your bouncing legs. He gives you a wink and squeezes your thigh lightly.

Irma sees her son acting gentle with you and she can feel the love radiating from him to you. König has only ever had two relationships serious enough to bring home to meet her. Both times, König was standoffish with them. With you, he seems like he can relax. It’s all she’s ever wanted for her baby, König.

“I love how you look at her,” Irma says while watching the two of you.

You smile at her and then look back at König, placing your hand on his.

“How did the two of you meet?” Irma asks innocently, unaware that you’re still currently legally married to her ex-husband and König’s father.

You stare at her for a while, unsure of how you should answer.

“We met through a friend,” König covers quickly. It’s not exactly a lie.

Irma doesn’t question it, she’s just happy to see her son so happy and in love. After spending an entire week with his mom, you both say goodbye. Irma stands in the doorway watching you both get into the car and drive off, a wide smile on her face. You wave to her until she’s out of sight.

“I love her.” You turn to König smiling.

“I’m a lucky man. The perfect partner and sweetest mom.”

König wraps his large hand around your thigh, squeezing as his gaze shifts from the road to you for a split second. You can see the joy radiating from him, the fact his mom loves you and you love her means the world to him. He lets out a soft hum and nods his head as he drives down the country roads.

His eyes flicker to the GPS that has their ETA on screen. Those forty-five minutes just seem so unbearable. It’s been one week without your body, his mom being Christian, she forced you both to sleep alone. Whenever he would try to slip into your room, you’d turn him down wanting to be respectful of his mother. Slowly he moves his hand further up your thigh, pushing the hem of your dress up more slightly.

“König, focus on driving.” You look at him with a smirk.

“I can multitask.”

He continues to move his hand up your thigh, feeling you as you adjust your body and spread wider for him. His fingers brush up on the soft fabric of your panties, moving up and down in a teasing manner. There is no way he can possibly make it almost an hour.

König pulls his hand away and turns the car off the road and into the grassy field, turning off his headlights. Once the car is parked, he undoes the seat belt, and leans his seat all the way back. His hands go to his hands to quickly undo them and look over at you.

“Come here.”

“König someone could see.” You say with a light chuckle in his voice, looking around to see the isolated landscape in the darkness of night.

“Who? No one lives here.” He reaches a hand out to you, his pants now down around his knees. “Come ride my cock, Liebling.”

You unbuckle yourself and pull down your panties. As you're about to toss them down, König snatches them from your hands. He instantly puts them up to his nose to smell you. You raise your dress up to your thighs and straddle his body. One foot on either side of him as you grab the car's grab handle above you to help balance yourself.

König reaches up and pulls down the top of your dress to expose your breasts to him in the dim moonlight. His hands cup them, squeezing them gently, causing you to whimper with sensitivity. He just takes it as a sign that your period will start soon.

“Es tut mir Leid.” He whispers as he sits up to gently suck on your left nipple while caressing your right.

His cock twitches underneath your heat, the feeling of your hardened nipple in his mouth causing his excitement to grow more and more. He pulls his head back, grabbing the back of your head to guide your mouth to his. Your lips press against his, eyes closing shut as you lower yourself onto his cock.

The feeling of your cunt swallowing his cock, your wet heat intoxicating him. König leans back in his seat, allowing himself to melt away into pleasure. Your slick cunt glides up and down his length, each time you sit fully on his cock he whimpers out with pleasure. He can’t help but to thrust up and meet your every bounce.

“König…” Your moans sound pathetic as your legs begin to get tired already.

König loves hearing your voice call his name out like that. The fact you are slowing down is no problem as he grabs you, leaning you forward slightly. His hands wrap around the flesh of your supple ass as he thrust up more rapidly.

Your hands reach forward to rest on his chest, feeling his muscles flex under your hands. König watches as your eyes flutter back. Loud pants coming from him as he focuses on making your orgasm before he does. You lean forward, your lips pressing hard against his muffling your own moans.

With four more harsh thrust, you unravel around his cock. You pull away from his lips as you cry out in euphoria. König’s eyes watch you, traveling down to your breasts before looking back up at your face. His voice is soft as he encourages you in German. He can feel his balls tightening, needing to cum.

“May I cum, Liebling.”

“Please.”

With weak wobbly legs you steady yourself, leading forward once more, and moving your ass in a twerking motion. The feeling of your soaking silky walls bouncing around him with all the energy you have left is pure perfection. You’re always dedicated to making sure he feels satisfied.

“Mein Gott, Liebling. You ride my cock so well. Please don’t stop.”

König moves his hands away from your ass so he doesn’t interfere with your rhythm. Letting himself enjoy the show of your breasts bouncing and your face twisted in pleasure. He’s on the brink of orgasm.

“Y/n…” König moans in a deep rumbling groan. “Oh fuck, ja.”

You lower yourself all the way down on your cock, feeling him throb as he releases inside of you. Your lips meet his neck, kissing his pale skin as his hands grab your hips to keep you in place. He doesn’t know how he went a week without your sweet little pussy.

Later at home as you both are naked and getting ready to shower together, as König leans against the wall behind you looking at your breasts in the mirror’s reflection. He’s noticed that your nipples look slightly darker and you’re a little bit chubbier now, not that he minds at all. He just knows what it looks like.

“Liebling,” König walks up behind you and moves his hands around the front of you before cupping your breast with his large hands. His pointer and thumb finding your nipples and toys with your nipples.

“Hm?” You rest your body back on his and enjoy the feeling. Your eyes find him in the reflection.

“You know I love you so much?” He kisses the top of your head.

“I love you too.”

Part 4

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hitechlatte · 3 months

Text

Tattered Cloak Chapter 1 - Sneak Preview

This is still in progress, but I wanted to give you a sneak peek of the first chapter of my latest Donnie X Reader fic.

This is set in the same universe as Purple Hoodie and Prince Charming's Jacket, set a few years after the conclusion of PCJ.

I will note however this can be read as a stand alone (you'll see why MWAHAHA), with only some minor references to the prior fics.

Chapter 1 - Read More Below The Line:

“Fucking hell, do I need to rewrite this whole section?”

Digging your elbows into the wood of your desk, you buried your face into your hands. The aching of your back mocked you as a long groan left your lips.

After expending all the air from your lungs, you slowly leaned back in your chair, staring up at the cement of the ceiling.

Your thoughts ran laps throughout your head, as you tried to recall every detail of the tale you were crafting. Yet no matter how hard you tried to wrangle your thoughts, the words jostled around your mind, still a jumbled tangled mess.

Eventually your gaze returned to your monitor and with a sharp huff, you slammed your pointer finger against the backspace key.

The frantic cycle of typing and deleting the same 3 lines seemed to continue for ages, until a chipper voice caught your attention.

“Yo! Y/N!”

A blur of purple whipped around you, eliciting a chuckle from your lips.

“Shelldon, what’s got you so giddy?”

Swirling to a stop in front of your chair, the bot buzzed with delight.

“Come on! I’ll show you!”

Slipping between your back and the chair, he pushed you forward. As you clumsily landed on your feet, Shelldon clutched onto your arm and tugged you towards the door.

“Alright alright!”

Exiting the door to your office, you hurriedly followed the bot through the lab. The monitors flashed around you as you and Shelldon darted past the piles of scrap metal and wires. Turning a corner the scent of stale coffee hit your nose. Several cups lined the edge of a working station, while another few laid precariously on a box.

With a slight chuckle, you turned your attention back towards Shelldon, trying to keep up with his rampant pace.

Finally exiting the large metal doors of the lab, you appeared in the main foyer of the lair. Giggles and murmurs of chatter bounced off the walls, and you could see a large group congregating in the center of the room. Three of the turtle brothers and Cass stood next to April as she seemed to ramble on about something.

But as you stepped closer, it was the sight of the tall black haired man that caused you to yell in excitement.

“Casey!”

The man turned towards you and smirked back, giving you a wave. Jogging over, you pulled him into a tight hug and grinned.

“So glad you could make it.”

“Of course! Wouldn't miss it for the world.” He laughed, “Also if I did I think Raph would never let me hear the end of it.”

The eldest brother let out a laugh and placed a firm hand on Casey’s shoulder.

“No. No I wouldn’t.”

The group all laughed for a moment, until Casey gave another confused look.

“Wait but where’s Donnie?”

“I’m guessing he’s out giving his hoverbike another test run.” You chuckled.

“You think?” Raph asked, brow raised.

“I don’t have a tracker on him.”

“Nah that’s more his thing.” April chuckled.

A few more laughs echoed out, until Raph spoke again.

“Aren’t you two getting married this weekend? Shouldn’t you, I don’t know, be doing wedding things?”

“Listen we’re keeping it lowkey, or well Donnie low key, but you know your brother. He had an automation system programmed and tested 3 months ago for this thing. All I have left to do is go to my final fitting with Irma and practice my vows.”

“I guess.” Raph sighed, “Well so long as you guys are all set or whatever.”

“We should be happy they’re actually doing this!” Mikey smirked, “I was worried it was never gonna happen.”

“Yeah, speaking of which April you still owe me that sushi dinner.” Leo chuckled.

“For the last time, I’m not cashing in a bet from 3 years ago.” April groaned.

“Fine double or-”

“Would you two cut it out?” Raph groaned.

With that, another series of chuckles leapt out.

“Well dinner’s just about done.” Mikey smiled, “Y/N you want to go figure out where Donnie is and meet us in the kitchen?”

With a nod, you walked towards the entrance of the lair and clicked on your comm.

“Hey D, what’s your eta back?”

There was a full minute of silence before your comm chirped.

“Oh, sorry, about 10 minutes.” The voice called from your wristband, “I just need to run one more aim assist test and I can head back.”

Fluttering your eyes, you stared at your wrist puzzled.

“Aim assist?”

“Yes for my delivery service drone contract.”

“Delivery- wait when did you get that?”

“Like 3 weeks ago- oh wait… It’s possible I haven’t informed you of it yet.”

“Nah I guess not.” You chuckled.

“Well I’ll have plenty of details to ramble at you at a later time then. And then you can tell me all about what Derek and Shiloh are up to in your latest chapter.”

“Oh I um- I sent that manuscript out for review last week. I already started my new space travel book. I um... Guess I didn’t tell you.”

“Ah well excited to hear about it nonetheless.”

“Yeah, same here. Um, just make sure to get back quick. Casey’s here.”

“That’s today?!” Donnie exclaimed.

Yep.”

“Ugh, update eta to 5 minutes. I’ll be home shortly.”

“Safe travels.”

“Thanks.”

With a smirk, you headed back out to join the others.

When Donnie finally arrived in the kitchen, every eye turned towards him.

“It’s our long lost brother!” Leo exclaimed.

Leaping from his seat, the blue brother wrapped his arms around Donnie, lifting him slightly off the ground.

“By golly brother I never thought I’d see you again!” Leo said in a poorly mimicked southern accent, “I never thought you’d make it home from the war!”

Donnie wriggled in his brother’s grip.

“Leo I was just- why are you like this?”

Before Leo could respond, Raph butted in.

“Maybe if he saw ya more than once a month there wouldn’t be a need for theatrics. Now eat ya ‘za, it's getting cold.”

“Whatever.” Donnie said rolling his eyes,

As dinner progressed, the group threw question after question at Casey, asking about his travel and what he had been up to during his latest travel excursion. However as he was telling some story, a voice echoed from the entrance of the kitchen.

“Hey everyone! I’m back!”

“Irma!” You exclaimed, “I thought you weren’t going to be back until tomorrow!”

“I got an earlier flight.” She giggled, “Besides it's your big day, so we need to get up to shenanigans or whatever. It’s my duty as your maid of honor.”

“You’re so sweet-”

However Irma was lifted up off the ground as the red turtle scooped her up.

“I missed you boo-boo bear.” He smiled.

“Raph!” Irma blushed madly, “I was only gone a week!”

“Yeah but I get worried when you go on your big scary missions and what if something happened?”

Irma rolled her eyes as she tried calming the eldest brother down.

And with a chuckle, you headed back to your own seat and plopped down next to Donnie.

“We’re not gonna get like that right?” You grinned.

Donnie shook his head.

“By Einstein's beard no.”

The rest of dinner went smoothly as everyone went into the foyer to watch a film.

“We should watch something romantic to commemorate the week.” Irma giggled as Raph filtered through the movie choices.

“Enchanted’s cute!” Mikey called out.

“Or Princess Bride?” Shelldon suggested.

“Die Hard!” Cass shouted.

“Well Lou Jitsu and the Radiant Samurai is a good one” Splinter chuckled

As Raph and Irma debated between choices, Casey turned to Leo and Mikey.

“Hey when are Usagi and Peace Corp getting here?”

“How does that name keep sticking?” Mikey yelled, “They have a name you know and it’s-”

“Peace Corp, we know.” Leo grinned.

Eventually the teasing ceased and the movie The Holiday was selected. You leaned against Donnie’s side as the film played on the screen. But just as the plot was beginning to pick up, you fell asleep.

You awoke later to a blanket wrapped around you and the pillows next to you, empty.

And looking around it seems most of the group had broken off, only leaving April, Casey, Cass and Mikey.

Rubbing your eyes, you saw a dark forest with a fairy and some bug-like man flying around on screen while singing a cover of some pop song. After a moment, you figured out they must have put on that movie Strange Magic. With a yawn, you stretched and slowly stood up.

“I’m off to bed.” You chuckled.

The rest of the group waved as you headed out of the room.

When you returned to the lab, you found Donnie deep in some code.

“Grinding the late night oil?” You laughed.

“Uh-huh.” He seemed to murmur.

“You …going to bed soon?”

However the turtle just grunted back.

“Come on.” You grinned, “I think it’s time we both called it a night.”

And after a groggy nod and a sleepy kiss, the two of you headed off to bed.

The next morning, you woke to Donnie sprawled across the bed. One of his legs was thrown over your thighs, while one of his arms hung off the bed. With a roll of your eyes, you gently slipped out from underneath him and tucked him more firmly onto the mattress.

He seemed to murmur something, but you just whispered back at him.

“Go back to sleep, I'll make coffee.”

He grunted as he buried himself back into the pillows.

After checking some emails from your publisher and agent, you headed back to make some coffee. The grinder whirled around as the beans shredded against the blades. And with a steady hand, you gently pressed the grounds into the espresso machine cup. The smell of coffee filled your nostrils as the liquid seeped down slowly into your mug.

However as you began to work on the second cup, a noise caught your attention. There in the doorway stood Casey.

“Morning!” You smiled, “Coffee?”

“Sure.” Casey grinned.

“Sleep well?” You asked as you pulled out another mug.

“Yeah I did. It’s nice to be back.”

“We’re glad to have you back.”

“Oh.” Casey said as he seemed to recall something, “April told me a bunch of us might get lunch later today. You and Donnie coming?”

“Oh cool! Let me check what time my meetings are, and if I can, I definitely will. No idea on Donnie though, but I can ask him when I bring him his coffee.”

Casey stared for a moment, almost lost in thought and then a chuckle left his lips.

“You um… man timelines are weird.”

Placing the cup down gently, you turned back to Casey with a confused look across your face.

“Oh sorry I just…” Casey spoke slowly, “It’s weird. You’re like so different from my timeline. But also, not?”

You kept your expression soft. Casey would occasionally speak of his original timeline, but never too in depth. Just general overarching details.

“Oh really?” You gently pressed.

Casey seemed to turn his gaze away and the panic welled up in your stomach.

“Hey, you okay? I’m sorry if I-”

“No it’s not you.” Casey sighed, “I just. I guess… I should have given this to you a long time ago. But I feel like now's a good time.”

Casey tapped on his armband and the screen flipped up. Pressing his finger against a slot, a small USB appeared. Pulling out the rectangular chip, he walked closer to you and placed it gently in your hand.

“You… you wrote this.” Casey breathed out slowly, “It was like your memoir or I guess… like a diary.”

“My… diary?”

“Yeah I- um. It helps me remember the old times. You talk about me a lot.” He chuckled.

“I- thank you, but why- Are there others?”

“No. Just yours. You were the only one who ever wrote one. Well Donnie had some audio logs, but they were never personal. Just analytics and shit. But I think you should read it.”

“I’ll… I’ll think about it.” You nodded.

Casey nodded back.

After gently handing him his coffee, the man disappeared back into the lair.

You stood for a moment, staring at the little chip in your hand. But with a quick tuck, you stuffed it in your pocket and finished making Donnie’s coffee.

When you returned with the purple turtle’s coffee, he was still out cold, bundled up in the blankets and pillows. You left his drink on his nightstand and after a quick kiss on his head, returned to your office.

When you sat at your desk chair, you just watched the steam from your mug flicker into the air. A million thoughts buzzed around your head as you stuck your hand in your pocket and slowly pulled out the USB.

And with a nervous huff, plugged the chip into your computer.

A green page appeared on screen, with bundles of words clumped together.

I know no one will probably ever read this. Well except maybe Shelldon or Casey(skip past the marked sections by the way you two), but I want a place to write everything down. Out of all the stories I’ve ever written, I think it’s time I finally wrote mine.

#rottmnt #save rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #fanfic #rise donnie #donnie x reader #rottmnt donnie x reader #rottmnt donnie #tmnt 2018

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metalomagnetic · 3 months

Note

I feel like I’m always harassing you with my asks (sorry!!), but bouncing off of my previous request for Black lore- what are the Blacks (that we know) like ✨in bed✨? What are they into?

I spent way too long thinking of this!

We'll start with Sirius the Grandpa Black. I have a feeling he was wild in bed, like he was wild in everything. Curiously, I spoke with a friend about this just the past week, and I said 'he made his wife very happy in bed, and exasperated outside of it'. He was a leg man- he loved long, shapely legs on a woman. In his time-period, no one could see a woman's legs, all hidden by long skirts, but he had a way of guessing beforehand lol.

Arcturus- funnily enough, in the new chapter I am writing, Sirius jokes that Arcturus probably only had sex twice in his life, because he cannot see his strict grandfather as a sexual being. And while he certainly had sex more than twice, I think he was pretty standard in bed, nothing crazy, just plain old missionary style. He was a virgin when he married and never cheated on his wife, even after she died, had no desire for anyone other than her.

Pollux and Irma (in my story she's also a Black, half, on her mother's side) have the same dynamic in bed they have in real life. Irma really likes dominating him, and in bed, he actually enjoys it.

Cygnus has a pregnancy kink 😂 That aside, poor man hadn't had much sex since his wife fell into a deep depression.

Alphard was into nerdy, quiet men with a hint of a wild side (he once had a brief crush on Tom Riddle, of course). He was a very generous partner, in bed and outside of it. His last partner, whom he'd been with on and off for like two decades, and actually lived with for the last five years of his life, almost made an appearance in Canis Major, but I had to let the scene go. Alphard left what remained of his wealth to Sirius, but he left his beautiful home to his partner, who was disowned by his family when he moved in with Alphard.

Orion, like the hypocrite he is, likes wilful, stubborn women that defy social convention. The surest way to attract his attention was to 'behave atrociously' (as he would call it) in public. He's twisted, and he enjoys pursing strong women, only to dominate them when he gets them. As soon as he 'tames' them, he loses interest in them. He's very good in bed, very open minded unlike in every other aspect of his life. No one ever left Orion's bed unsatisfied.

Orion needs intimacy- he never had a simple one night stand. Even with his briefest affairs, he still took the time to know them first, and never jumped in bed at the first opportunity, nor was he one to feel attraction for a woman just based on her looks. I think he liked 'the hunt' most of all.

That aside, if his marriage hadn't broken apart, he'd have never cheated on Walburga. Before everything went to hell, for the first ten years of their marriage, he didn't even think of other women, was 1000000% satisfied with his wife. Even after it all went down the drain, during the years, whenever Walburga gave the briefest sign she wants him back in her bed, he'd abandon whoever he was with and come *running* back home, eating up whatever scrap of affection he could get from her.

Walburga was basically into everything Orion suggested, and she had a few suggestions of her own (learned from those erotica and sometimes straight up smut novels that she loves and were mentioned very briefly in It runs) that she wanted to try out. She loves dangerous men (that's why we see her reading books with a naked, fanged vampire on the cover). I'm certain she made Orion pretend he was a vampire at least once 😂 She also had a slight exhibitionism streak when she was younger and they lived in Egypt, which put Orion on edge (but also secretly delighted him). They weren't even having full on sex back then (Orion insisted they wait until marriage) but she found ways to rile him up and play with him and drive him mad until they finally retuned to England and got married.

Bellatrix is creative and she always chases a thrill, and her sex life is fabulous. Rabastan, poor dear, had seen and heard things in that Manor that either give him nightmares, either inappropriate dreams staring his sister in law and his brother. Sometimes, Bellatrix likes duels as foreplay, so she and Rodolphus destroy parts of the Manor and then fuck in the middle of the damage. Of course, they also have calmer sex, an entire day of lazying in bed with Rodolphus, filled with gentle love-making. But when they're feeling more wild and duels come into play, whoever wins gets to dictate the encounter.

No one knows what Narcissa likes in bed, only Lucius, and it took him like a few years to find out. So whatever happens in bedrooms in Malfoy Manor, shall remain between them.

Andromeda takes after her grandmother Irma, both in bed and out of it. Ted is her boy toy. He does whatever she asks, and they both enjoy it a lot.

Regulus, the little repressed freak, once he finally gets to have sex, he lets loose, and then he feels guilty for it, because he considers whatever he did as something beneath a man of his station. Orion should have really paid more attention to him, but he was also very young when Orion died, so they didn't get to have fun sex talk like Sirius got. He's so allergic to feelings and affection, he enjoys impersonal sex the most. Regulus only knows to accept love and give it back with his mother and his brother, no one else.

Sirius is- well, we know Sirius. Because of the way he was raised and all the shit he got from his mother about liking boys, he does have certain unhealthy behaviours. He adheres to the strict gender roles when it comes to sex, so when he's with a woman, he must always be in charge. That doesn't mean he isn't adventurous, but only as long as he has control. Even when he first gets with Voldemort, he unconsciously puts Voldemort in the 'woman's role' in his head. It takes a while for him to get comfortable, and he's lucky Voldemort is a very patient dude. Obviously, after that happens, we can see Sirius definitely has some sort of Daddy kink. Not that he'd think of it like that, nor would the word 'daddy' ever be uttered while he has sex with Voldemort, but he enjoys being taken care of by an older, powerful man. He also has a big praise kink, so there's that.

He's into different things in bed, depending if he's with a man or a woman. And while he did have plenty of mindless one night stands, I think he is most satisfied when he has a deep connection with his partner. He's desperate for affection, for a true connection, even if he was also afraid of having a bond like that. It's why he tried to distance himself from Marlene, even if he wanted her, because he was simply afraid of growing too close.

You never harass me with questions! I love the questions, especially because they make me think of my lovely Blacks and their mysterious lives. ❤️

#it runs in the blood #sirius/voldemort #sirius black #orion/walburga #orion black #I think about these people way too much #their sex life is as messy as everything else about them

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holdupjack · 9 months

Text

Just Put On The Fleece

——————

Pairing: Hermione Granger x Fem!Reader

Warning: sexual suggestions

——————

Third Person P.O.V:

7th Year

Y/n strolled towards Hogsmeade with a smile as snow fell all around her. The lake was completely iced, she could see a few students skating atop its surface.

Snowflakes fell onto her bare arms as some students gave her strange looks at her choice of clothing. She wore just her white button-up and pants, which wasn’t up to most people’s standards when it came to this type of weather.

She didn’t pay them any kind though, instead continuing her peaceful walk to Pippins Potions to stalk up on some ingredients for her next class.

As much as Y/n didn’t feel all the nervous about catching a cold, she did however look over her shoulder every once in a while.

Before she had left to start her walk towards the Village, she had run into Ginny. Now this wasn’t unusual, since they were good friends, but she was even better friends with Y/n’s girlfriend.

Hermione Granger.

The two have been dating for a little over two years now, and to say the least, Hermione was not a huge fan of Y/n’s disregard for winter wear.

They have gotten into fights about it, but they were never huge or harmful. They were just little spits the couple had from time to time around the holidays.

Now Ginny was a little instigator, she loved to get Y/n in trouble with Hermione, and Y/n knew it. Granted, she would never say something to harm their relationship, but Y/n with no coat? Going out into freezing temperatures?

Fair game.

So now Y/n had eyes in the back of her head, almost like she was waiting for her girlfriend to appear out of thin air like a horror movie.

Y/n couldn't help but smile fondly as Hermione's concerns echoed in her mind. Always the protective one, her bushy-haired bookworm. Not that Y/n minded - it was just one more way she knew she was loved.

Reaching Hogsmeade at last, she hurried inside Pippin's Potions to escape the icy kisses peppering her skin. The familiar jingle of bells greeted her, along with friendly shopkeeper Irma Pippin herself.

"Afternoon dear! Back for more fluxweed I see. Winter rolling in already?" The old witch chuckled, taking note of Y/n's sparse attire as she gathered the ingredients into a small pouch.

"You know me Irma, a little chill never bothered me much." Y/n chuckled, exchanging a few knuts for her purchases, placing the pouch into her pocket.

"Though my darling Hermione might avow otherwise..."

Just then, the bells jangled loudly once more. Speak of the devil and so she shall appear, it seemed! Y/n turned with a smile to greet her favorite furious witch.

"Hello, love! Fancy running into you here..." Y/n chuckled nervously as she backed up slightly, almost bumping into Irma as Hermione stepped closer with a stern glare.

“Don’t you ‘hello love’ me! What are you doing out in the snow with no protective clothing!” She says with gritted teeth as the older witch just chuckled as she walked to the back of her shop, muttering ‘if you break it, you buy it’.

“Uh…” Y/n said nervously as Hermione stepped even closer.

Y/n flashes her best disarming smile, hoping to soothe her darling's ruffled feathers. "Now now love, you know a little chill doesn't bother m- oof!"

She's cut off as Hermione shoves a giant fleece throw into her arms. It's garishly orange and covered in little purple cauldrons.

"Here, now you have no excuse. Put this on at once before you catch hypothermia," Hermione huffs, fussing over Y/n until the monstrosity is wrapped snugly around her frame. Only her scowling face remains uncovered.

"There! Don't you look cozy?" Hermione states with a smirk, obviously loving the form of punishment she had procured for their way back to the school.

“I’m not wearing this.” Y/n declared as she playfully glared back at Hermione, who was not happy to hear the defiance.

“We can do this the easy way, or the hard way,” Hermione says as she grasps Y/n’s face and squishes her cheeks together.

“You’re going to make me swallow my tongue” Y/n muttered as Hermione gave her lips a quick peck and let the girl's face go.

“Now, will you be a listener today, or will I have to ‘accio’ you all the way back to my dorm?” Hermione asks as Y/n crosses her arms and grumbles to herself.

“But I don’t wanna wear this atrocious thing” Y/n whined, which made her girlfriend roll her eyes and sigh, placing her hands on her hips.

“Seriously, Y/n-“

That was all she could get out before the garment was tossed back at her, and the jingling of bells was her only indicator that Y/n had just made a break for it,

“What the- Y/N!” Hermione yelled angrily as she pulled the clothing away from her face and dashed back out into the village. Her eyes darted from left to right, soon landing on Y/n, who was standing at the end of the block with a shit-eating grin.

Y/n's mischievous antics would be the death of her, Hermione swears it. With a steely gaze, she marches purposefully down the street, fleece trailing menacingly behind like a wrathful cape.

"You think you're so clever, don't you?" she calls as she closes the distance. But Y/n only grins wider, dancing nimbly out of reach.

"Now now love, can't we discuss this civilly over butterbeers? I'm parched from all this invigorating exercise!" Y/n teases as she continues to back away.

"The only thing you'll be drinking is that foul lake water if you don't surrender yourself this instant!" She stays with a scowl as she watches the snow fall onto her lover's hair and bare skin.

But when has a threat ever stalled this rogue?

With a cheeky blow of a kiss, Y/n pivots on her heel and bolts down a side alley.

“Y/n Y/l/n!”

Hermione gives pursuit, weaving deftly through the village streets. She tries her best not to bump into anyone as she chases Y/n down alleyways and stairways to different streets. At last, she corners her favorite miscreant in a dead end.

"Gotcha!" she crows, triumphantly diving forward to wrap Y/n in her fleecy fate. But the rogue is too swift, spinning nimbly aside with a peal of laughter.

"Is that the best you've got, bookworm?" Y/n taunts, dancing just out of reach again. Her playful grin mocks Hermione's frustration to new heights.

"Why you impertinent—" Lunging again, Hermione feints one way then tackles the other, taking her willful partner by surprise. They tumble headlong into a snowbank, wrestling fiercely as the flakes fall upon their flushed faces.

"Yield, you beautiful scoundrel!" Hermione growls between giggles, wrestling the fleece around Y/n's struggling form at long last.

"Now take your medicine like a good girl." She smirks, pinning her captive beneath triumphant hips, Hermione then leans down to deliver a punishing kiss.

Well, as punishing as a kiss between two love birds can be.

"Let that be a lesson to cross me again, my darling rogue." She whispers when she pulls away, affection softens her stern eyes, and melting away Y/n's resistance completely.

"Oh very well, you've bested me, Granger. Have your victory - this time." Y/n sighs dramatically as she grins up at her girlfriend, and finally accepts her fleecy prison.

"I believe you have an apology to make, you hoodlum." Hermione chuckles, securing Y/n firmly in place as they stand up from the snowbank.

“How about another kiss instead?” Y/n asks with a smirk as she wraps the fleece around their heads and gives another peck to her girlfriend's lips. Hermione just chuckled and happily accepted this form of apology.

So deciding to be a little daring as well, and since they were hidden in a small alleyway, Hermione jumped into her girlfriend's arms. Y/n fell back into the snow, holding onto Hermione tightly as she pressed kisses onto Y/n’s face and lips repeatedly.

Hermione wasn’t this affectionate usually, at least not in public, but that didn’t mean she didn’t love these moments. Where Y/n would do something idiotic, like refusing to wear proper winter clothing, and then make Hermione chase her around Hogsmeade like they’re thirteen again.

A tender smile curves Y/n's lips as her darling bookworm showers her with affection. Moments like this make all their spirited misadventures worthwhile, reminding her anew why she fell for this fiery soul.

"I love you, you know," she murmurs between caresses, gazing up at Hermione with open adoration. It still amazes her sometimes - that such a brilliant witch could love a roguelike her in return.

But love Hermione does, with a passion to match even Y/n's flame. And so their game of chase leads ever onward, whatever obstacles life sends their way.

For now, lost in each other's arms amidst the falling snow, the world beyond fades away. No cares nor duties intrude on this perfect moment, shared alone between two hearts entwined as one.

“Do you mean it?” Hermione whispered as she stared at Y/n with a curious expression, but the tugging smile at the corner of her lips told Y/n that she just wanted to hear her say it again.

“Awe my lovely Gryffindor, I love you more than the ocean loves the shore” Y/n chuckled as she kissed her once more, earning a happy hum from Hermione.

“Aren’t you poetic today?” Hermione whispers as she kisses down Y/n’s jaw, earning a soft purr as the snow melts against her back. Y/n blushes under Hermione's teasing, always rendered bashful by her beloved's quiet charms.

"Only for you, my love. You inspire the poet in me unlike any."

Her touch sends thrills cascading through Y/n's form, setting her aflame despite the chill. How fortunate she was to have found not only a partner to match wits with, but one so generous with passion as well.

"I fear if we linger longer entwined, my good intentions may go out the window," Y/n chuckles, making Hermione snicker and throw the fleece off of their faces. She sits up, straddling Y/n’s hips as she shakes out the snowflakes from her hair.

“You are always so eager to rip my clothes off” Hermione snickers as Y/n shamelessly nods her head in quick succession.

“What do you say we retire to the Three Broomsticks for warmth and nourishment, before reckless passions overtake your mind?" Hermione teases as she stands up and hoists Y/n up to her feet. Pressing one last ardent kiss to perfect lips, Hermione dusts the clinging snow from supple curves. Offering an arm with a rakish smile, she leads them from the alley and back to the bustling thoroughfare.

“So…how about later?” Y/n asked with a smirk as they walked towards the small pub.

“Promise to start wearing your coat?” Hermione asks, looking at her with a grin of her own.

“Fine…” Y/n mumbles in defeat as her girlfriend proudly pulls her quickly into the building.

“Then maybe…you can see what’s under mine tonight”

#harry potter #hermione granger #hermione granger x reader #lesbian #fanfic #fluff

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