Cottagecore Fantasy Novels & Stories

“I know a lot of things, but I’m here to give a briefing. Like this cottage, it belonged to my daughters. They are all grown up now, and I’m a grandfather, as you know by the nickname. But when they grew up and left this cottage, each one had the same effect my wife and I had. I built this cottage years ago. At first, it was just a cottage to escape reality until I fell asleep. Once, when I woke up, I met my wife. After that meeting, it’s been a family tradition to meet one’s fated mate in this now untouched cottage, but one has to let it outgrow to grow within others.” He said his words as if he was stuck in some memories from the past. I wondered what were the stories this cottage had to t

He called out as he fixed himself a cup of coffee. The Cottage was a large one with five rooms and bathrooms. It was built on the only highest solid ground on the island. Daphne had told me that it was called the Cage Cottage by the townspeople. Due to the location of the place, aquaculture was what brought in the income. "Milk and raspberries!" Daphne yelled from her room. "Ditto!" Simon yelled back and downed his coffee in a few gulps. He nodded at me and walked to where he took his coat. He put it on his plain blue buttoned up shirt and corduroy trousers before opening the door to leave.

“You don't want the housemistress to hear you. I'm sure you still prefer to keep that head of yours.” “What witch?” I questioned. “Last night, I heard two of the castle's maids talking about it. Is there a witch in the Castle?” The three of us waited for the others to leave. Then we continued. “Word is the Lycans are cursed by a witch,” Anya said. “It drives them towards causing a massacre. They thrive off the bloodshed.” “Yes, Anya's right,” Sara replied. “They took me with them when they attacked the northern packs of the realm. The gory sight was enough to scar my mind forever. Even children were not spared.”

Which absolutely did not include wondering what he looks like naked, sitting on a throne, legs spread, beckoning me to crawl into his lap… After a few minutes, and a whole internal monologue about whether I’d survive a bear attack, the trees begin to thin. We step into a cottage core wet dream. Rising from the earth, smooth timber walls, stained dark and stretching three stories. A wraparound deck, wide enough to host their cult meetings, trails around both sides and disappears towards the back of the house. Massive windows reflect the sky and trees, portals to some expensive outdoorsy dimension where hot people chop firewood shirtless and no one ever pisses in a friend's wardrobe after half

Somehow even more beautiful, glowing with life. Slowly, he lowers his head and without looking at me, nods, signalling for me to look over to our right. My brain takes a few seconds to catch up with what I'm seeing. The cottage sits high on the crest of the hill, wrapped around a courtyard, cradling whatever sits at the centre. It’s massive, three stories at least, but still manages to look soft. Plucked straight from a fairy tale, white stone walls dappled with creeping ivy, round archways, windows that glow gold behind fogged panes. The roof is uneven and shingled in moss, the kind of imperfection that looks designed.

I finally took the place in—and shit. The cottage was huge in that old money that pretends to be modest but actually screams wealth way. White stone, a slanted mossy roof, balconies wrapped in vines, lanterns hanging from branches like floating fireflies. Trees framed everything, tall enough to swallow the house whole, with wildflowers and moonlit blossoms spilling around the pathway. It looked like a fairytale dropped acid and decided to go minimalist. "All the previous queens spent their wedding night here too," Levi added.

He whispered, placing his lips close to my ear. Oh, dear! What exactly did they have in mind? They had promised it would be different in the room. They had just made love with me at the shore, but back in the cottage, they promised a good fuck. And hard. The door slammed shut behind us. As the cottage was had an open design where it faced the ocean and adorned with white light curtains, I could still hear the waves crashing against the rocks. The open design of the cottage allowed the salty sea breeze to permeate the air, carrying with it a wild abandon.

He laughs again and picks me up bridal style, carrying me out of the room and down the stairs, presumably to this so-called cottage. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Roman and I have very different definitions of what a cottage is. This looked like a fairy godmother's mansion. It was beautiful, don't get me wrong, but it wasn't a cottage. It was a gorgeous light stone house, it did have that cottage feel to it with its triangle-shaped entrance, but it was…exquisite.

They are not the only ones with plans. Ela looked at the cottage. It was small and unassuming, the kind of place you would walk past without a second glance. But she could feel the power radiating from it, old and deep and patient. Magic. The kind that had been woven into the stones centuries ago, by wolves who had known that one day, someone would need a place to hide. You told me the Council was dissolved, she said. You told me the headmaster was arrested. Why do we need a safe house if the war is already won?

Warm lights glowing through the curtains, the faint sound of music coming from inside and the familiar smell of his mother’s cooking drifting through the evening air. He never seems to get why his mother cooks when they have servants at every beck and call. To make matters worse she prefers to live in this small mansion compared to the grandeur of the mansion he bought for her. His phone vibrated. Mom: Don’t make me come outside and drag you in. Corey smiled as he stepped out. Before he could knock, the door opened. His mother stood there with her hands on her hips. “You are late.” “I’m three minutes late.”