Hotd Masterlist - Tumblr Posts

✧⁠*⁠。Benjicot blackwood masterlist ✧⁠*⁠。

Pretty when you smile : fluff, arranged marriage

~ A settlement was made between house Blackwood and Bracken, but nothing was said about the smitten groom and the prettiest bride.

Sweet nothing : nsfw, fluff, nudity

~ Between war, blood and chaos, your lord husband finds himself running home to your sweet nothing.

The great war : fluff, kinky shit, smut

Part 1 wc: 1.8k

Part 2 wc: 2k

Part 3 wc: 4.7k ( smut )

[ Completed ]

“The great war is here and you won't survive it without reaching for his hand, between bloodshed and crimson clover.”

come back...be here: fluff, nsfw, enemies with benefits

~ You and lord blackwood met by the woods, when the sun would blaze the sky, perhaps it will take one more fuck to know where your heart lies. ( Rhyming bitch )

Oh love, my love( draft ) : fluff, Pregnant!reader

~ Benji has so much fun teasing you, how would your darling husband react to you revealing pregnancy in the most dramatic way.

All rights reserved to @skyrigel, I do not grant any permissions to translate, copy or plagiarise my work on other sites. Please write your own.

-Aegon Targaryen x Barmaid!Reader

{Aegon, once again, seeks refuge within the safety of your bedroom…}

Enjoy lovelies 💕

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊

Your bedroom was comforting. The low light from the candles cast warm shadows against the walls, and the warmth of the fireplace spread through the tiny, rundown room. It was an escape from the brothel in which you live above, an escape from the noise and drunken guards who were a little too rowdy tonight for your liking.

Seems the Prince also felt the same because when you walked into your room he was there, lying face down against the cushioned divan snoring ever so softly without a care in the world.

His white and choppy hair splayed messily over the pillow, his lips stained red from whatever cheap wine he had indulged himself in tonight.

It doesn’t surprise you nearly enough as it should, to see him here, a Prince, within the calmness of your own room sleeping and drunk no less.

You try to stay as quiet as possible, moving around the room on steady feet whilst you clean up the mess he had caused by stumbling into your room haphazardly.

But your attempts are useless when the sound of his hoarse voice breaks through the air, “Good… you’re back.” He pushes himself to sit up with a groan, his eyes heavy with a deep sorrow that he’s clearly trying to drink away.

The audacity, the way he thinks he can just barge in here. It frustrates you and rightfully so. “What have I told you about this… look at the mess you’ve made.” You huff with narrowed eyes as you pick up the books he had knocked over.

Aegon stands up with a struggle, his face scrunching up in what you presume is pain. “Where were you?” He completely ignores your complaints with a heavy sigh. His words are all slurred as he leans forward as if trying to spot you out on a lie.

He doesn’t even give you time to respond before he’s talking again through the thick haziness that the wine has caused. “They said you were here… and you weren't, I waited hours for you.” He says, his tone was clearly accusing you of something.

“Not all of us have the privilege to lay around and drink all day Aegon.” You tell him with an anger in your voice that he wasn’t used to, not from you at least.

You watch as his glossy eyes narrow with a turmoil of emotions that he can’t escape from. He’s quick to try and push past you with a dramatic huff. However, he doesn’t make it further than the end of your bed before he’s stumbling slightly with unbalanced footing.

“Seven hells, Aegon… what have you drank?” You mutter as you catch him just barely, an arm wrapping around his torso to help him stand up.

Despite him being completely inebriated he still tenses up at the feeling of your arm around him, keeping him steady. It’s a certain softness that he doesn’t deserve.

“The usual shit… now answer my question, where were you?” He mutters, turning his face towards yours. The smell of wine hits you much stronger now that he’s this close, his breath fanning against your cheek.

With a soft sigh, you cave. Knowing you won’t talk any sense into him whilst he’s like this. You’ve learned from the hard way that he’ll just end up circling back to the same question over and over again.

“I was in the market, I needed to stock up on a few things.” You tell him as he leans further into you for support, his arms circling your waist to try and keep himself upright.

He takes a breath as if he was going to argue with you, but no words follow. Instead, he presses his face into the crook of your neck with a heavy sigh, his fingers fisting the soft fabric of your shirt as he pulls you closer.

Your expression softens and you roll your eyes, your hand soothing his back. This happens a lot more than you care to admit and you can’t help but wonder, at times like this, what went wrong with him?

“You can’t leave… don’t leave me.” The words leave his lips pathetically, so heavy with emotion. His hands tighten, holding your shirt as if he were scared that you might just disappear into thin air.

“I’m not leaving, I won’t.” You tell him, a promise that he won’t believe, because you can guarantee that you’ll have the same conversation with him a couple of days from now.

But your words seem to do the trick for the time being as you feel him smile against your shoulder, pressing his face further into you. “Good, I won’t let you leave anyway.” He says with a certain seriousness in his tone, and in all honesty you wouldn’t put it past him to hunt you down if it came to that. He’s a prince after all, whatever he wants he gets.

You guide him to sit down on your bed, his hands falling to your hips as he collides with the bed with a groan, looking up at you with glazed-over eyes. A warm but strained smile adorns your lips as you rest your hands on either side of his face, his cheeks are warm beneath your palms.

His eyes flutter ever so slightly at the feeling. No one had ever touched him so sweetly, as if he was a piece of art that needed to be revered.

“Lay down… let me get something to eat.” You whisper softly as you guide him to lay against your pillows, his fingers wrapping around your wrist tightly so you don’t slip away from him.

It takes a lot of convincing and patience for you to finally leave your bedroom with the promise of bringing him a small meal. However, by the time you walk back up into the safety of the room he’s passed out on your bed.

His face smushed against your pillow as he curls himself up into a ball, his lips slightly parted. You sigh, placing the metal tray on your bedside table before sitting down next to him. You debate for a moment whether or not you should wake him, deciding it’ll be best to let him sleep off the wine.

With gentle fingers you brush his white hair away, tucking a few strands behind his ear. He could do with a good bath, you think to yourself. You sit there for a while, watching him as he nuzzles into the warmth of your pillow. He will be gone before the sun fully rises, leaving a small bag of coins on your dresser... in thanks?... or maybe as an apology? but for now, you'll enjoy this, the peaceful silence, whilst it lasts.

The candlelight flickers slightly with the breeze that pushes through your room, casting a warm light against his face. In many ways, this room is as much of an escape for him as it is for you.