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ginnsbaker · 8 months

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mastermind

Summary: As your sticks fly across the drums, your eyes momentarily scan the crowd, taking in the faces, the movements, the ecstatic energy. And then, in the flickering club lights, you spot her // …or the one where you find Wanda in the crowd during your band's gig, only to discover there's much more to her than you initially thought.

Word count: 5.2K+ | Tags: Smut (18+), Fluff, Oral and fingering (W receiving), Squirting, Overstimulation, Meet-cute, Drummer!Reader, Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Requested by anon. I got carried a way for a bit and took a few liberties. Hope you like it!

You almost didn’t make it for tonight’s gig.

Still recovering from the flu you caught last week, you were close to letting Kate fill in on the drums. That is, until Yelena begged you not to let her girlfriend botch a sold-out evening.

The tension backstage is thicker than Bucky’s pre-show smoothie, and, given the mishmash of green ingredients, that's saying something.

“I'm just saying, letting Kate drum tonight is like giving a cat a keyboard and expecting Bonham,” Yelena says, gesturing wildly with her hands.

“Continue talking and you might not have a girlfriend by the end of your next sentence!” Kate huffs, spinning on her heel to stomp out of the area.

You sip on your water, trying to keep your hydration levels up but also stifle a chuckle. This isn’t the first time Yelena’s protective streak has clashed with Kate's overenthusiastic approach to... well, everything. Natasha is trying, and failing, to keep a straight face, while Bucky seems to have found sudden interest in the intricate patterns on his boots.

Your head is throbbing, the remnants of the flu still gnawing at your energy, but you've mustered up just enough strength to make it through tonight's set. Before Yelena or any other band member can comment further, the organizer gestures for your band to take the stage.

You take a deep breath, followed by another swig of water. It's almost showtime, and the excitement is seeping through the nerves, reminding you why you endure the endless rehearsals, sleepless nights, and yes, even the pre-show squabbles.

As you step onto the stage, the applause is deafening. The lights illuminate the sea of faces before you, and you can see the familiar glint of excitement in the eyes of returning fans mixed with the curious expressions of first-timers.

Bucky approaches the mic, flashing his signature charming smile at the crowd. “Good evening, everyone! We’re ecstatic to see so many familiar faces and new ones too! We've got a great set for you tonight, but before we start, let's give a big shoutout to Y/N here, who's powering through the flu to be with us tonight!” The crowd roars in appreciation, and you can't help but wave sheepishly, a tentative smile stretching across your face.

Natasha strums the opening chords of the first song, her fingers dancing effortlessly over the strings. Yelena, momentarily forgetting her earlier spat with Kate, loses herself in the rhythm, the bassline syncing perfectly with your drumbeat. The music flows, each note hitting the right spots, the synergy between band members mesmerizing the audience.

As your sticks fly across the drums, your eyes momentarily scan the crowd, taking in the faces, the movements, the ecstatic energy.

And then, in the flickering club lights, you spot her.

There's a brunette, her hair cascading down, dancing like she was born for this exact moment. The way she sways and lets loose to the rhythm—it's captivating.

But it's when she turns around that your heart nearly leaps out of your chest. Her eyes meet yours, and the world seems to slow down for a moment. Those intense, deep-set eyes pull you in, making it impossible to look away. They're filled with an emotion that's hard to pinpoint: intrigue, curiosity, maybe even a hint of challenge. The message is clear—she's noticed you, just as much as you've noticed her.

She doesn't break the gaze, and as her hips move in tune with your beats, there's a silent communication happening. Your hands, despite the rising temperature of the room, feel cold against the drumsticks. It's a battle to maintain your rhythm and not lose yourself under her spell.

Natasha, catching the look on your face, leans in during a brief instrumental break. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you reply, attempting to refocus. Your distraction had almost caused you to miss a beat or two.

Your eyes are locked onto the brunette once more as she starts grinding against her friend, her movements confident, sultry, and unapologetically magnetic. It's the sort of dancing that would have any person within the perimeter drooling on the spot. Usually, you'd shy away from openly watching someone move so suggestively, but you find yourself completely mesmerized.

As the next song kicks off, you throw in some extra flash on the drums, just to see if she'll play along. And sure enough, with every fancy beat you drop, she dances right to it. It's like you're both in this unspoken challenge, seeing who can outdo the other. Your fingers grip the drumsticks tighter, and you can feel the heat rising on your face.

That's when Natasha glances in the same direction and catches on. “Well, well, looks like someone's got a fan,” she murmurs with a wink, her voice barely audible over the booming speakers.

You roll your eyes, trying to play it cool, but the dryness in your mouth betrays your nonchalance. “Just playing my part,” you quip, though you're keenly aware that your concentration tonight is split between the drums and the mesmerizing dancer.

Yelena, following the exchange between you and Natasha, leans in from the bass guitar, raising an eyebrow. “Who's got you all hot and bothered?”

“Shut up, Yel,” you retort. With cheeks aflame, you try to shove Yelena’s teasing aside, to focus solely on the music coursing through your veins. However, the allure of the brunette is a magnet you can’t seem to resist.

As the beat picks up, so does the pace of your heart, hammering against your chest with every enthralling movement she makes. She is intoxicating, and you’re utterly spellbound.

During the bridge, you hit a sour note—a misstep that rarely happens—and Bucky gives you a dirty look from across the stage. He’s a perfectionist when it comes to the music, and you mouth a silent “sorry” before forcing your eyes away from the captivating sight in the crowd.

But not before catching her reaction.

She's laughing, her eyes alight with impishness, and you'd swear she's looking right at you. There's a knowing smile on her lips that suggests she knows exactly the effect she’s had on you. It’s both mortifying and exhilarating.

You try to keep to the side, hiding behind cymbals and drums, but it's impossible to shake the sensation of being observed. It's like she's got a spotlight aimed right at you, and you're center stage. Every moment you resist looking her way feels like an eternity, but every time you feel the pull to glance in her direction, Yelena’s earlier tease flares in your mind, keeping your eyes stubbornly on Bucky’s flashy shoes.

As the last song fades and the applause rolls in, you set down your drumsticks, nerves and excitement warring within you. You don't hang around for Bucky's wrap-up speech. Instead, you hustle to get backstage.

To everyone's shock, you decide to stick around after the gig. You're usually the most introverted one in the group and never do this.

Natasha sidles up to you, a teasing smirk on her lips. “So, about that girl you couldn't take your eyes off of...?”

You attempt to play it cool, but your nervous fidgeting with your drumsticks gives you away. “What girl?” you ask, feigning ignorance.

Bucky snorts in amusement, a wicked grin stretching across his face. “The one you were practically eye-fucking the entire set? Thought you were gonna jump off stage and grab her right there.”

You're now the shade of a ripe tomato, desperately searching for a diversion. “You guys are seeing things,” you mumble, avoiding their amused gazes.

“Honestly, I was half-expecting her to throw a bra onstage or something, the way you were gawking,” Yelena chirps in.

“Enough,” you protest weakly, your voice drowned out by the laughter of your bandmates.

Just as you're about to slip away to the bar for a breather, a waiter approaches you with a drink in hand. “Compliments of the lady over there,” he says, nodding towards a dim corner of the club.

You peer in the direction he's indicating but can't make out who it's from. The drink looks fancy, possibly alcoholic. Glancing at the waiter, you inform him, “I can't drink alcohol right now, but thank you.”

Natasha snatches it from the tray. “Well, if you're not taking it, it's mine.”

Bucky laughs. “Is everyone in this club trying to woo our drummer tonight?”

You roll your eyes at them, trying not to dwell on the mystery woman. However, it's not long before the same waiter returns, this time holding a simple glass of lemonade. “The lady noticed you weren’t drinking the cocktails and thought you might prefer this.”

Your curiosity almost gets the better of you, but the memories of the striking brunette dancing to your beats earlier still linger fresh in your mind. You opt not to scour the club's corners to spot who's sending the drinks. Instead, you lift the lemonade in a thankful gesture, aiming it in the general direction of where the waiter had pointed, and offer a polite, appreciative smile into the dim.

Natasha teases, “Playing hard to get, huh?”

You shrug and take a sip from your drink. “Just soaking in the night and the rewards of our hard work,” you remark, patting the pocket where you tucked away the cash from tonight's gig. “Isn't that what we're here for?”

An hour later, the club's neon and strobe lights continue to play tricks on your eyes, turning every brunette head you spot into a potential sighting. Each time, however, it’s not her.

Bucky's animated conversation about a new track he's been working on fades into the background. Natasha keeps throwing you knowing glances, but doesn't press. It's Yelena who finally comments, probably having had enough of your desolate puppy-dog look. She nudges you with her elbow, Kate giggling drunkenly by her side. Yelena's arm is protectively around Kate, but her sharp gaze is all on you.

“You know, you won't find her by just sulking here and gazing at every brunette that walks past. You gotta move,” she challenges, her tone equal parts bored and encouraging.

Kate, in her slightly inebriated state, adds with a giggle, “Yeah, go get her, tiger!”

“It's not that easy, you know,” you sigh, brooding over your drink. “Plus, what if she's not even interested?”

Yelena's smirk is almost predatory. “From what I saw? Trust me, she's interested. Now go.”

With a resigned sigh, you push yourself up from the booth. Steeling yourself, you start weaving your way through the crowd, using your slightly sober advantage to maneuver past intoxicated dancers. You scan every corner and table as you walk past, even though there's a nagging feeling in your gut that she might have already left the club.

It’s after what feels like an eternity that you spot a familiar cascade of brunette locks by the bar. She’s engaged in what appears to be an animated conversation with a tall, equally striking man. However, her posture—shoulders slightly hunched, eyes darting around—suggests that she’s far from comfortable.

The protective instinct kicks in before you can talk yourself out of it. Closing the distance, you position yourself between her and the persistent guy, offering her a way out. “Hey there,” you say, smoothly, your voice loud enough to be heard over the clamor. “I've been looking for you. Sorry I'm late.”

She catches on immediately, her relief evident as she steps closer to you, away from the guy. “There you are! I was starting to worry,” she plays along, giving you a swift kiss on the cheeks that has your eyes widening for a second and breaking character. Thankfully, the guy doesn’t notice your blunder, and sensing he's lost this battle, scowls and retreats into the crowd.

Turning to her, you can't help the grin that finds its way to your face. “Sorry for that, I wanted to help, but I didn’t also want to cause any trouble.”

She smiles back, her eyes gleaming in the club lights. “Thank you for the save. I was about to resort to more drastic measures.”

The banter between you flows naturally, the awkward ice broken by the unusual circumstance of your first interaction. “I'm Y/N,” you offer, extending a hand.

“Wanda,” she says, taking your hand. Her grip is firm and her hand warm against yours. It sends a jolt of electricity up your arm. Only now do you notice her eyes, the shade of green in them, and the way they reveal so much yet nothing at all. Just like that, you fall a little deeper into her trap.

“Wanda,” you repeat, tasting the name on your tongue as if trying it out. Your smile broadens instinctively, and she catches it, her nose scrunching up bashfully.

“What?” she asks.

“Oh, nothing,” you chuckle nervously, rubbing the back of your neck. “I just think it's a beautiful name. Fits someone as beautiful as you.”

She blushes, and you can't help but inwardly high five yourself for making her smile like that. She looks away for a moment, trying to hide her smile but fails miserably, and you find it endearing.

“Thank you, Y/N,” she says, her eyes meeting yours once more, a shy smile on her lips.

The night unfolds seamlessly from there. You find a quiet corner away from the crowd, where the music is a distant thump, allowing conversation to flow freely.

“So, when did you start drumming?” Wanda asks, leaning in a bit, genuinely seeming interested in your answer. You try your best to stay calm as you feel the heat radiate from her body.

“Believe it or not, I started a bit late, around twelve,” you reply, smiling at the memory of your younger self, awkwardly trying to grasp the drumsticks. “But I played the guitar first, picked it up when I was just five.”

Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Wow, so you're a multi-instrumentalist?”

You shrug, trying to appear nonchalant, but can't help the proud grin that creeps onto your face. “Something like that. But I mainly stick to drums in the band.”

She tilts her head, her eyes shining with interest. “Why don't you play the guitar for the band then?”

“Natasha's better than me on the guitar. She's got this incredible flair and finesse. I mean, I'm good, but she's... amazing.”

Wanda nods, absorbing the information, “I've heard her play, she really is. But I'm sure you're just as great.”

You laugh, “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Then, taking a sip of your drink, you add, “Playing the guitar actually helps a lot when I'm writing our songs.”

“Wait, you write the songs?”

“Most of them,” you confirm, trying to sound as modest as you can be. “It's a collaborative effort, of course. But yeah, having a knowledge of multiple instruments, especially the guitar, helps lay the foundation for many of our tracks.”

Wanda looks at you, clearly impressed. “That's incredible, Y/N. No wonder your music feels so... personal. It's like you're telling a story with every song.”

“You’ve listened to our songs before?” you ask, mildly surprised.

Wanda nods sheepishly, as if caught harboring a guilty secret. “I might have, a few times... I definitely came here tonight to see you guys perform.”

She then places a hand on your knee, and all at once, your throat feels parched. She scoots closer to you, to speak directly into your ear. “I wish I could see you play the guitar for me.”

You swallow hard. Her suggestion has certainly crossed your mind several times throughout the conversation. “Actually,” you begin, trying to steady your voice, “we keep our instruments in the back of the van. If you're interested, I could... play something for you?”

Wanda pulls back slightly to meet your eyes, looking like she wasn’t expecting you to actually agree to give her a private performance. “Really? Now?”

You nod, then stand and extend your hand to her, grinning. “Ready for a show?”

This isn’t exactly the kind of show you had in mind when you led Wanda to the back of the van. But you’re just twenty seconds into the new song you’ve been working on when she grabs your face with both hands and draws you in for a ferocious kiss. It’s a kiss that you haven’t tasted in a while—completely unrestrained.

You're lucky the drum set hasn't been loaded up yet, and with Bucky's keyboard being used by the current band onstage, there's just the right amount of space. Taking advantage, you push Wanda onto her back without breaking away from the kiss.

You pull away just enough to ask, “Are you sure?” while Wanda starts to slide your jacket down your arms.

Wanda nods impatiently, tracing her tongue along the underside of your chin, clearly enjoying the reaction she provokes.

“Was that a yes?” you prod, sitting up. Wanda sighs, albeit a bit irritably, only because you're suddenly out of her reach, before she collects herself enough to answer, “Yes, Y/N, I'm sure.”

“It's just that... I usually don’t do this,” you confess, looking down in embarrassment.

Your heart is pounding so loudly you're sure Wanda can hear it, especially with the way she's studying you intently. You can feel the heat creep up your neck, coloring your cheeks a deep shade of pink. This isn't typically your scene, and you wonder if she's regretting her decision.

But then, with a move that’s smooth and tender, Wanda slides her fingers under your chin, lifting your head to meet her gaze. Her eyes aren't filled with judgment or mockery, but with genuine understanding and something else you can't quite place.

“I find it... sexy,” she murmurs. “It’s refreshing, actually. Everything about you feels genuine. It's rare to find someone not playing games.”

Your eyes widen a fraction. That wasn't the reaction you'd been expecting.

She smirks a little at your expression, that hint of mischief returning. “Did you think admitting you're a little inexperienced would scare me off? If anything, it makes this even more exciting.”

“I'm not exactly 'inexperienced',” you argue with a bashful smile.

Her voice drops to a whisper, making your breath catch, and she inches just a bit closer. “I'm sure about this, Y/N. The back of a van might not be a romantic scene from a movie, but…” she breathes, and then she makes sure you feel every word she’s going to say next being spoken in your ear. “But right now? I swear, I might just go crazy if you don't touch me.”

Her statement stokes the fire between your legs and acting on the pull you feel, you lean in, hesitating just for a fraction of a second before capturing her lips with yours. Wanda lets out a soft, sultry moan as you deepen the kiss, your tongue boldly seeking entrance. She grants it, and you're immediately intoxicated, not just by the taste of the vodka she's been sipping on, but by Wanda herself. The way she feels, the way she responds—it's all consuming.

She tilts her head, granting you better access, and you take the opportunity to explore every inch of her mouth. The gentle tang of the alcohol is present but overshadowed by her own unique flavor, which is even more intoxicating. You can feel her hands resting on your shoulders, fingers gripping you with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine.

Wanda's breath hitches sharply as you confidently take charge. You yank her shirt off in one quick move, and she's laid bare under the soft street lights. Outside, some party is still in full swing, but in here, it's all about the uninhibited hunger between the two of you.

You slip your fingers to the back of her bra, fumbling just a moment before unhooking it, revealing her. Not wasting any time, you dive in, taking her nipple in your mouth, savoring it. The sensation drives her wild, and she arches her back, pushing herself deeper against you with a throaty moan.

Her fingers grip your hair, guiding and sometimes just pulling when she needs more. Every sound she makes, every pull of her fingers, gets you more revved up. It's intense, it's messy, but it's all too real.

As your hands venture lower, you notice her pupils dilate and her breathing grow uneven.

“You still sure?” you whisper, releasing her nipple with a wet pop. She responds with a desperate whine, pressing her hips closer to yours.

“Use your words, baby girl,” you murmur, nipping at her pulse point.

“Yes, yes, yes…” she answers breathlessly. “Please, Y/N.”

Your fingers playfully glide over her entrance, teasing her, “So wet for me,” you marvel, pressing a firm kiss to her neck. Your fingers dip inside her just slightly, pulling back out to further tease her.

“It's too bad I don't have my strap with me,” you groan, grinding against her thigh, letting her feel how turned on you are. “You'd look so pretty, taking it all.”

Her breathing hitches, “God, I wish you had it too.”

Wanda’s whines intensify, a sweet sound of pure desperation, as you suddenly remove your fingers from her. “Why did you—” she starts to complain, but you silence her with a searing kiss.

“I want to see all of you,” you murmur against her lips. Her skirt is the next target, and you fumble with the zipper, eager to remove the barrier between your hands and her skin. However, as you're about to pull down her underwear, a thought strikes you. Looking around the back of the van, you remember how it's been used for hauling equipment, and the floor isn't exactly pristine.

Thinking quickly, you grab your jacket and lay it out beneath her, ensuring she's on a cleaner surface. “Always got to take care of my girl,” you wink at her, trying to lighten the moment.

“Your girl?” Wanda echoes, her eyes half-lidded, a playful smile curling on her lips.

You realize your slip-up a beat too late, but then, her underwear and skirt are swiftly discarded, and she lies there, beautifully exposed to your hungry gaze.

“You're breathtaking,” you whisper in awe.

She flushes under your gaze. “I could say the same for you,” she murmurs, pulling you closer.

Your eyes roam her body, the soft curves and inviting skin, particularly where she's most sensitive. But you've always been one for asking.

“Can I taste you?” The question leaves your lips, whispered against the skin of her inner thigh, making her shiver.

She responds with a needy, “Yes, please,” and bites her bottom lip, arching her hips slightly, as if laying herself bare for your indulgence.

You don't waste any more time. Shuffling down, you position yourself between her legs, the aromatic scent of her arousal filling your senses. Carefully, you part her folds with your fingers, your tongue darting out to collect the first taste. The first touch of your tongue against her wetness draws a sharp inhale from her, followed by a moan that has your ears burning from how shameless it sounds.

Your tongue swirls around her swollen nub, establishing a pattern that has her thighs clenching around your head. “Fucky, right there,” she groans, her hips thrusting up, eager to meet each glide and flick of your tongue. The wet sounds of your mouth paired with her whimpers urge you to sneak a hand beneath your jeans, seeking relief for your own building tension.

Her hands tighten in your hair, pulling you closer, almost as if she's trying to mold you to her. “More, right there... Oh, god!” she cries out, providing the exact guidance you need.

Amused by her reactions, you intentionally draw out a slurping sound as your tongue dives deeper, making Wanda retreat, but you abandon your own need for release to grab her ass and pull her back to your mouth.

“Y/N, please, please, I’m—”

“You like that, don't you?” you tease, voice husky with lust. “You sound so pretty when you beg.”

She keens, a desperate sound, her fingers tightening their grip on your hair. You're relentless, enjoying every second of her unraveling, and she's close—so close.

“Are you going to come for me, Wanda?” you growl, lost in the intoxicating taste of her, pressing your tongue deeper, seeking out every intimate spot that makes her body jolt and writhe above you. Her voice breaks into a high-pitched cry, “Y/N! I'm—I'm—” and you feel her climax, her entire body shaking with the force of it, her wetness dripping from your chin down to your throat, drenching you in the process.

Wanda's gasps fill the space as she shudders, the aftershocks of her orgasm leaving her body trembling. A wicked grin spreads across your face as you take in the sight of her, completely spent and vulnerable. She squirms beneath your mouth, trying to escape the onslaught of sensations. “Too much,” she pants, her voice hoarse.

Ignoring her plea, you continue your ministrations, lips and tongue working in tandem, driving her to the brink once more. As you feel her tensing up, preparing to escape your relentless assault, you slip two fingers inside her, feeling the tight clench of her around you. The unexpected intrusion steals her breath and the fight from her limbs, her resistance melting under your touch.

“You want more, don't you?” you murmur before your lips find her clit again.

The van is starting to smell like sex. You know you'll have to do something about this later, but for now, you can't bring yourself to care as you take in every detail of the naked girl before you. The pleasure is almost overwhelming for Wanda, teetering on the edge of pain, but she feels another climax building deep inside her.

“Y/N!” she cries, her grip on your hair tightening, her back arching. “I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum!”

You don't stop, doubling your efforts, fingers and tongue working in sync, driving her up and beyond any point she's ever known. Suddenly, there's a gush, wetter and warmer than before, surprising you both. You pull back slightly, and she looks down, mortified. Her face turns a deep shade of red, and she tries to squirm out from beneath you.

“I'm so sorry... I—” Wanda stammers, scrambling to hide her face in her hands.

You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, a smirk forming on your lips. “Wanda, that was... incredibly hot.”

She looks away, still trying to process what just happened. “I didn’t... I've never...”

Sitting up, you gently cup her face, making her look at you. “Hey, it’s alright,” you say softly, trying to reassure her. “Don't be embarrassed. I'm honored that you felt comfortable enough with me to let go completely.”

She gives a shaky laugh, her fingers lightly tracing circles on your chest. “I can't believe you made me do that on the first try.”

“And I’m extremely lucky to be able to,” you say with a chuckle, gently brushing a stray strand of hair away from her face.

She blushes for a moment, then says, “I noticed you didn’t... you know. Do you want me to...?”

“Next time,” you promise, pressing a tender kiss on her forehead. “Right now, I need to make sure this van doesn’t end up as evidence of our... activities.” You wink, earning a soft giggle from her.

“Besides, I have to admit, I thoroughly enjoyed watching you fall apart because of me,” you add, mischievously wetting your lips.

She blushes, playfully swatting at your arm. “You're impossible.”

You were the first to step out of the van, offering Wanda a moment of privacy to get dressed. When she finally emerges, she leans on you for support. “I can't feel my legs,” she jokes, struggling a bit. She hands you your jacket which you'd forgotten, helping you slip it on. Immediately, the scent of her hits you, reminding you that she had climaxed twice on that very fabric.

Before you can dwell on the thought, a man approaches Wanda. It’s the same guy from earlier, the one she was arguing with at the bar. You instinctively square your shoulders, ready to step in between them, protectively, but Wanda halts you with a hand on your chest.

“Pietro!” Wanda exclaims, letting out an exasperated sigh as she utters her brother's name. You halt, puzzled.

She knows this guy?

Pietro looks at Wanda, then at you, his eyes narrowing for a moment. “You ready to go, Wanda?” he asks, clearly impatient.

She turns to you, giving you a soft, apologetic smile. “Y/N, this is my brother, Pietro.”

You swallow dryly, offering a somewhat clammy hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Pietro just eyes your hand, perhaps connecting the dots from earlier. Feeling like an idiot, you quickly pull your hand back, subtly rubbing it against your pants. He departs without another word, muttering to Wanda, “I'll be in the car. Don't keep me waiting too long.”

Wanda watches Pietro go, her smile fading a bit. Turning back to you, she takes a deep breath. “Okay, so, about earlier,” she starts, biting her lower lip nervously. “I might have, um... staged that whole fight thing to get your attention. He wasn’t too thrilled about the idea, but he played along.” Her eyes dart to the ground, avoiding your gaze.

You blink, processing her confession. Before you can come up with any coherent response, she giggles at the dumbfounded expression on your face. “I really have to go,” she says.

And then, before you can react, she plants a featherlight kiss on your cheek. The warmth of it lingers on your skin as she steps back, her eyes holding yours for a long, sweet moment.

“Thank you,” she whispers, her eyes glistening under the soft moonlight. “Tonight was... unexpected, but amazing.”

And with that, she turns and hurries off to where Pietro is waiting for her by a parked car. You stand there, feeling the spot on your cheek where her lips touched, watching her until she hops into the car and drives off into the night. It’s only after the car disappears around the bend that you mentally kick yourself for forgetting to ask for her number. With a sigh, you turn back to your van, resigned to cleaning up.

The chill of the night settles in, and when you slip your hands into your jacket pockets, your fingers catch a scrap of paper. It feels out of place, foreign to the usual belongings you stash in there. You pull it out, and to your surprise, it's a receipt. The drinks listed there jog a memory: an alcoholic cocktail offered to you earlier in the night which you politely declined, and the tangy lemonade that followed right after.

Realization dawns on you. Wanda had been orchestrating things all night. You flip the receipt over and your heart skips a beat. Scrawled at the back in a neat, cursive handwriting is her number, accompanied by a simple message: “Call me soon.”

Grinning like a fool, you grab a cloth and some disinfectant from the compartment. Cleaning the back of a van has never felt this satisfying.

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apollosfavkiddo · 1 month

Note

you wanted headcanons? 🤭 i got you 😽

how about a jason grace x apollo!reader set of headcanons!!

:’)

⛧° jason grace x daughter of Apollo! hcs

⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧

content: Jason Grace x apollo!reader hcs

warnings: BAD BAD BAD, slightly possessive jason, reader is implied to be blonde

a/n: i hc that every child of apollo has the hair at least a little lighter than usual. like, it's not jet black nor a super brown, they have light brown or blonde hair. and i used this on this hcs! i'm so sorry if u don't like it, but i took this creative liberty... anyways, enjoy!

word count: 0,8k

⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧

now playing… midnight rain - taylor swift

blondie met blonder, they fell in love, and they had blondini

jk, jk, no kids... yet

you were aware of who was jason grace, like everyone around camp

one of the Heroes of Olympus, son of jupiter, always looking for his friends and family, creating sanctuaries for the minor gods, hot as hell, as you heard from your siblings

i mean, you obviously wouldn’t go around asking anyone

because in reality you haven’t even saw him yet, since he was always so busy going between camps

but one day the oh so awaited encounter came to reality

you spent most of your days at the infirmary, since your healing powers were quite... impressive, to say the least

you were one of the best healers around, if not the ultimate best

so, you obviously had to come running towards the hurt kid, who happened to be your friend, leo valdez

you were almost a hundred percent sure that he hurt himself at bunker nine, and only because he had a crush on one of your sisters – alyssa. and it wasn’t even an assumption he really did liked her, as he himself told you about it

but you were surprised to see a certain blonde boy carrying him through the infirmary doors with leo’s foot blackish purple and swollen

you quickly went to him and gestured towards an empty bed, which the blonde – that you figured it’d be Jason, leo’s best friend – put him on and sat beside him

you didn’t spare much time to look at jason, but he had a scowl on his face as if saying “I’m so disappointed on you” with only his eyes

“oh, for my father’s music, what in the hades happened to you, valdez?” you asked, your voice laced with concern and a little bit of reprehension

“where’s aly?” the shorter boy asked, earning a snort from jason

“you dropped a wrench to your foot to see the girl you got a crush on? my gods, valdez. thought you were over that.” the taller boy said, and his deep voice gained him a glance from you

and that’s when you fell in love for the first time

his blonde hair was even lighter than yours, his skin slightly tanned and his muscles... oh GODS. and that jawline that could easily cut a diamond

he was easily the most handsome man you ever saw on your entire life.

and trust me, he thought the exact same about you

the difference is that he had noticed you long ago

it was a rainy day on camp half-blood, right after capture the flag

jason had gotten himself hurt. It was something minor in his eyes, but piper insisted that he should go on the infirmary to check

well, thanks gods he did went to the infirmary that day, since he had a broken rib and a bruised face

you weren’t the one to treat him, but he did saw you taking care of the other injured people from the game, and from that moment on he was completely and utterly WHIPPED for you

like, he’d stalk you around, discover all your agenda for the day and just follow you around, without you even knowing who the hell he was

so, after the day that leo almost broke his foot trying to get alyssa’s attention, you and jason started to hang out

but in the beginning, it was only around leo, too, so you two could mock the latino boy about his stupidly obvious crush on alyssa

but soon that friendship went beyond hanging out just around leo, who was more than happy now so he wouldn’t be the third wheel

and every day you just fell more in love with jason

and he also fell completely and totally HEAD OVER HEELS for you

and when you guys finally made a move, the whole camp was happy

except for leo, who now was officially third wheeling

but have you heard that song midnight rain by taylor swift? That goes like “he was sunshine, i was midnight rain”?

yeah, that song is YOU

but this time the roles are a little reversed, seeming that it was “she was sunshine, he was midnight rain”

but you were quite literally the perfect couple

the golden girl of camp half-blood and the golden boy of camp jupiter

a match made in heaven

oh and your dad was more than happy when he discovered that you were dating jason

his #1 otp, fr

and look how perfect

you and will are siblings

jason and nico are basically brothers

so... double dates obvi???

also he’d be telling everyone like “oh you know the BEST HEALER AT CAMP? Yeah, she’s my girl”

walking with an arm around your waist ALL THE TIME

he's like ‘gotta show the world you’re mine, love’

being a daughter of apollo gains you lots of unwanted attention for being pretty as hell

so whenever he sees someone hitting on you he’d be like NUH UH, that girl is MINE. Bitch

oh, and you literally make his days lighter and brighter

with all your smileness and cuteness

oh, the it couple fr.

a/n pt2: this one's bad and i HATE it but idc

#all my love 🍀#postcards from leah #jason grace #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #heroes of olympus x reader #jason grace x reader #pjo #jason grace x y/n #jason grace x you

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kaizokuniichan · 4 months

Text

Attention Part 5 - Even Exchange

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro/AFAB Reader (referred to as she/her)/Trafalgar Law

Summary: You and Law finally come together in the most complete way.

Also known as: The chapter where Dev’s music nerdery is overwhelming (seriously there are an obscene amount of music references

CW: Mutual mastubation, oral sex, vaginal sex

Previous Chapters: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Word Count: 4.8k

Author’s Note: Slight spoiler for Law’s new awakened technique. I’m not sure of the exact logistics of how it works so I took some liberties for the sake of plot.

MDNI; 18+ READERS PLEASE

Divider by @/cafekitsune and banner by @/eelnoise

As you blinked yourself awake and took in your welcoming surroundings your stomach twisted into knots. For a moment you believed you’d been tricked by your overactive imagination—god knows how many times you’d dreamed of him bringing you here. Unsurprisingly it was cozy and dimly lit, slightly fragrant with the spicy scent of incense. The walls of course were metal but that didn’t make it feel unnaturally cold. A grand, Cedar wood desk stood proudly across from the bed with well-worn books and various articles strewn about in a disorganized heap.

“What’s with the mess?”

Striding over to join you, he quickly stacked the books and shuffled his papers.

“You damn Strawhats have been a constant pain in my ass even more these days.”

Giggling, you slid off the bed to admire the shiny coins displayed on the shelf above.

“You collect these?”

With a start he looked up, ears burning as you leaned closer to inspect them.

“Uh yeah. Just a little hobby of mine to pass the time.”

Your chest tightened as it inflated with affection.

“Don’t be embarrassed. I think it’s cute. I like knowing you have something that helps your uptight, nonexistent ass unwind.”

He peered intently into your eyes and you suddenly felt shy, as you always were around him. His stare was always so intense.

“Feel free to take a tour around the place. It’s not much but I’m happy to share it with you. If you’d like to stay.”

You cocked a mischievous brow.

“Are you planning on ravishing me tonight Law?”

He smiled without any skin-crawling lecherousness.

“I would love to, but we certainly don’t have to. You don’t even have to stay here tonight if you don’t want. I just wanted to show you my room and spend some time together since we’ve...had to keep a lower profile these days.”

“Not that it really matters considering Jean Bart keeps making suggestive comments about how his captain won’t stop drooling over me.”

His cheeks tinged a soft pink, yet he was bold enough not to deny it.

“Well…he might not be wrong.”

He gave you a crooked smile as he looked you up and down, letting his eyes drag over your bare legs exposed by your sleep shorts. As your body heated you felt a distant second heartbeat in your pelvic floor. You’d never not be amazed by how openly he desired you. How someone like him could desire you. You were someone whom he lusted after, and while it was exhilarating, it was also quite intimidating.

It’d been hard being so near him when you couldn’t touch him the way you wished. Onboard the Sunny you’d been nothing short of a stubborn barnacle at his side—shamelessly sidling up and wrapping yourself around him in an immovable grip. You’d been cautious during the early days of your tentative connection, but the more time you spent together—and after your very passionate excursion in the aquarium—you found him more than willing to allow you to handle him however you pleased, even responding in his own way. A secret squeeze of your thigh under the table and a brush of fingers when you were out in the open were his subtle showings of reciprocity. And of course the many secret kisses. Those were the best.

“Is there uh, a bathroom nearby? I’m a little warm. Wanna splash some water on my face.”

“Am I making you nervous?” He teased, eyes still twinkling with mirth.

“Um. Yes?”

He was so smug you wanted to kick him—he really could be such a bastard when he wanted. Sometimes he liked to be cheeky, and you loved those rare moments where he was laid-back and playful. How it made the cadence of a snare drum kick against your ribs.

“There’s an en-suite bathroom just to the left of the bed.”

“Oh how fancy.”

He stepped closer and in a mild panic you leaned to the side and rolled across the bed to where the bathroom stood. His soft laugh became muffled as you closed the door behind you.

The bathroom itself was nothing extravagant, but you hadn’t expected it to be. Perfectly practical, it was minimally furnished with nothing but the bare essentials. Two towels hung on a wooden rack, two toothbrushes sitting in a cup on the small counter. A grey bath mat lay at the foot of the shower stall, and from what you could see inside the shower, containers of liquid soap, shampoo, and conditioner.

As you walked up to the sink you noticed a small bottle of what appeared to be an oil cologne. Opening it and taking a sniff you were stricken with the same heady aroma he always carried on his skin and clothes. The scent, blended with a hint of antiseptic, always lingered after your brief hugs, and you’d spent many a night breathing it in whilst your hands played between your legs. Just a small whiff brought an immediate wetness to your panties.

Setting the bottle back down, you faced your reflection in the small mirror and pondered just how fuckable you looked. Your deliberation was tireless but necessary, and you wondered what it’d be like to fuck him. How he’d look. What he sounded like. What he tasted like. Were you going to fuck him tonight? You very much wanted to, but you were so anxious as to whether or not you’d even be good enough for him. You’d never had any complaints from previous partners, but Law seemed like someone who was difficult to please. What if it made things awkward? He was already such an awkward man, you’d hate if things became even more awkward.

“I hear you thinking in there, so I’ll just send you back to your room if you want.”

You bounded for the door and flung it open in a panic.

“Don’t you dare.”

He sat on the bed facing away from you.

“I don’t want you to feel any pressure.”

“I don’t feel pressured. I wanna stay here with you tonight.”

He turned to face you skeptically, refusing to move an inch from his seat.

“Law just get comfy. And take off those damn heeled boots.”

With another small smile he rose from the bed and crossed over to a closet you hadn’t noticed. Kicking off his shoes and pulling his sweater over his head, he revealed inch by inch the dark ink on his back contrasting with his tan skin—slightly obscured by the white tank top he’d been wearing underneath. You growled in frustration as he sat back down.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, turning his body to look at you.

“Nothing, it’s just. You spend all day with your shirts almost fully unbuttoned so I get a full view of your tits, but now that we’re alone you won’t even let me get a proper look.”

He turned back around and you were utterly mesmerized by the way his shoulders and biceps were accentuated by the flimsy fabric.

“I don’t do free shows, you’re gonna have to work for it.”

“You give enough free shows every day with those slutty clothes of yours.”

His breathy laugh filled you with tendrils of honey.

“Maybe if you’re good you’ll get something special.”

You hoped the sound of your gulp was only audible to you.

He observed with amusement as you stumbled over to the other side of the room, reaching your destination back at the desk. When you rested your bottom on the edge your fingers played with the grooves in the wood.

“I think we’ve done enough talking today Law.

His bouncing leg halted when you leaned back on your hands.

“I think so too.”

“Then…come here.”

If you could find a word to describe the way his body moved you’d settle on saunter. His lithe form beheld true majesty as he glided over to you—a little terrifying and absolutely thrilling.

He now towered over you, heavily sunken eyes filled with an almost primal, commanding lust. The tips of his fingers touched your cheek as he stepped closer, and the front of his legs pressed into yours.

You scooted back when he softly ordered you to sit. Immediately you spread your legs to allow him to accommodate the space between, and you looked into his eyes as he cradled your face. Blown wide irises roved endlessly as he studied you, mapping out every delicate feature. You placed a hand on his chest while the other reached up to play with the small hoop earrings in his lobe, tracing your thumb along the smooth surface.

You felt his body shudder as you tickled his sideburns, running your pads down his jawline where they met with his goatee. An indecipherable sound rumbled in his chest when he stepped deeper into your space, and he tightened the hand around the back of your neck as he leaned down.

There was no fanfare when your lips melded into a careful kiss. Your hand on his chest tightened it’s hold and wrinkled the fabric of his shirt while the other wrapped around his neck. It was uncertain whose tongue slipped into whose mouth first but they soon became entwined.

His hands slid down your sides in slow reverence as a whine curled in your throat. When he pulled you closer to bring your center flush with his hips, you marveled at how perfect he felt. Far better than what you could ever have imagined. Despite his lanky appearance his body was sturdy and solid. Carefully crafted as a means for survival.

Your hands continued to caress each other as he dug his fingers into your hips. Unsurprisingly (or maybe surprising to you) he was hard, and you felt a quaking in your thighs that would’ve made you crumble to the floor if you’d been standing. He continued to grip you with more assurance — much more demanding than any other time he’d touched you. Slipping his hands beneath your shirt to fondle your breasts, his thumbs rolled lightly over your nipples as he spread his fingers over your ribs. Throaty whimpers pierced your lust-filled haze as your hips undulated against his, desperately seeking relief.

His lips slipped from yours to make a drunken voyage down your jaw, teeth catching on your skin and licking flames of heated passion behind. He clutched you impossibly close and you wrapped your legs around him.

“You’re crushing all of my papers,” he murmured, voice low and dipped in chocolate.

“Good. Fuck those papers.”

Your hand began a journey to the top of his jeans, unfastening the button and pulling down the zipper. His hand came to grasp yours as if to stop you, and when you looked up you were met with a question lining his golden irises. You reassured him with a nip at his bottom lip, sliding his pants down just enough to comfortably slip your hand inside. His body was hot and trembled with restraint, and he let out a hiss when you swirled a thumb over the already wet, flushed head.

The air in the room suddenly felt cold when he stepped back.

“I...I want you to watch me.”

Your mind became waterlogged as he took a seat across from you on the bed.

“If you really want to hold my attention take that shirt off.”

He smirked, shifting back and pulling his jeans down to the middle of his thighs.

“You first.”

You hadn’t expected this level of sultry confidence from him. Normally he was especially careful when the two of you were alone—never wanting to make you feel as if he was taking advantage. He’d always allowed you to lead.

Yet the basis of your relationship had always been an even exchange, and you were more than willing to comply.

His breath hitched when you slipped your shirt over your head to reveal your bare chest and pert nipples, and his eyes kept yours leashed as he began to stroke himself. You’d never felt more assured of his attraction to you than when your eyes were tethered to his.

He allowed you a moment to admire his dick as he removed his shirt, and you were almost too eager to have it in your hands. Or mouth. Or pussy. Anywhere he wanted to put it really.

He leaned back, allowing dribbles of pre-cum to leak onto his abs, and you wrestled with your mind to accept the reality that this unbelievably gorgeous man was pleasuring himself to the live image of you. With his shirt tossed aside, he allowed you to feast on the hilly planes of inked tan skin and sinewy muscles, all converging into a delectable point between his pelvic bones.

“Law...do you even realize how sexy you are?”

His mouth quirked with pride, still languidly stroking himself.

“I’m glad you think so,” he replied, the soft tenor of his voice making you throb.

“I refuse to believe I’m the first person to tell you this.”

He sucked in air through clenched teeth and moved his hand faster.

“Well, you’re the first person it ever mattered to hear it from,” he sighed, the flushed head poking between the middle of his fist.

“You want it?” he asked.

“God yes,” you breathed as your pussy clenched.

He leaned over to grasp the rolling chair at his desk and dragged it over in front of him.

“Sit here.”

Almost immediately you complied. Pulling off your shorts and opening your legs you felt the cool air seep into the dampness of your panties.

“Are you gonna put on a show for me Law?”

His hips stirred and he picked up the pace, lips parting as he took in short breaths.

“If that’s something that you want.”

Your center continued to pulsate and you went to snap your legs closed when he grunted a sound of disapproval and shook his head.

“No. Let me see you.”

You’d heard him be commanding before—he was the Captain of a notorious pirate crew after all. But this new authoritative tone he directed at you suggested he wasn’t to be defied, and it excited you. So you opened your legs for him.

“What would you like for me to do Law?”

He breathed shallowly as he pumped himself—liquid pearls dribbling over his knuckles.

“I want…you. All of you. But first I’d like to see how excited you can get for me.”

You let your hand drift between your legs as a sumptuous chill trickled down to your toes.

“Why won’t you touch me?”

He huffed, spreading his legs wider as he bucked his hips.

“He’s already done that for you, hasn’t he?”

Heat fanned across the back of your neck as you were brought back to your kitchen dalliance with Zoro several days prior.

“I wanna do things differently.”

You huffed in frustration. “Well…at least let me put your dick in my mouth.”

His hand stilled as a surprised chuckle escaped him.

“We can do that in a little while. Spread your legs and pull your panties to the side for me.”

You wanted to protest and move things along far more quickly but you understood his need to move at his own pace. And the slow-burning foreplay was definitely not unwelcome.

It was almost embarrassing how slick-saturated your panties had become as you tugged them to the side. Cautiously you looked down and swirled your finger around your bud, releasing a sigh of relief.

“Look at me.”

It’s not that you’d never had an audience before, but Law’s presence made you incredibly self-conscious and unsure.

But as you looked back to him you remembered what made you fall for him in the first place. He’d been so insistent on fixing a part of yourself you’d believed to be broken—like the worn binding of an aged book—and he’d repaired you good as new. Your heart bloomed with achingly sweet love.

Your eyes fluttered while slipping a finger inside yourself, and he groaned as his fist moved faster.

“Fuck. Never seen anything so pretty.”

You melted.

“Oh Law.”

His brows furrowed as he tugged himself, adam’s apple bobbing with every gulping breath. You clenched when you added another finger.

“You want me to eat that pretty pussy of yours?”

You whined louder than you’d intended.

“Yes. Law please.”

“Slip another finger inside.”

Your body was wracked with shudders that had nothing to do with the cold air. A stone sunk into your belly as you eyed his dick still being fisted in front of you. He was much thicker than what you were capable of providing for yourself, even while pumping the three fingers inside you without being told to do so. Finding it difficult to keep contact with his probing eyes you dropped your head back with a shameless moan.

“Law I want you so badly.”

You heard him grunt as he halted his movements.

“I wanna give it to you love.” Suddenly his eyes flew open.

“Um..I mean...”

You lifted your head back up and smiled.

“Did you just call me love?”

“I didn’t mean…that’s not what I meant to say.”

His scrambling was impossibly cute and completely fruitless. Sliding off your seat you knelt down and settled between his legs. When you looked up his lips were parted and glistening as his chest heaved imperceptibly faster.

“You know, you called me baby that one time too.” He rolled his eyes to hide his embarrassment but you saw it anyway. “I never took you as the type to give pet names.”

Covering his scorching hand with yours, you gripped his fist and guided him, squeezing it in with reassurance.

“It was just a slip of the tongue. I didn’t mean to say it.”

“Oh didn’t you?” You gave him a pout. “Am I not your baby? Am I not your love?”

He cupped your cheek with his other hand, tilting your face up to look at you properly. What a sight you must’ve been, nestled between his legs as he pulled himself closer to release. You hoped it was everything he’d dreamed of. He leaned down to give you a kiss, gripping your jaw tightly.

“I’ll call you whatever you like. I’ll give you whatever you like.”

You shook your head and you leaned back.

“I’m gonna give you something first. Straighten up and watch me.”

You could see him wanting to argue but your sharp look held him back. He sat up and watched as you leaned closer to run your tongue along the trail of dark hair leading to where both your hands held him. The pheromones of his desire left you intoxicated as you transformed into a feral seductress for him—burying your head between his legs. After swatting his hand away you wasted no time. Despite the saltiness that stained your tongue it was mixed with a decadent sweetness. Slowly you picked him apart as you licked along the underside.

The heavy hand gripping the back of your head was welcomed, though he still made no move to force you down. For now he was weakened by the endless weeks filled with pining and yearning, and he allowed you to take control. The wait had proven to be worthwhile as you slid further down until your nose met his pelvis. He felt heavenly in your mouth. As he tickled your esophagus you were brought back to a supposed trick given to you by a friend that was said to prevent gagging. Tucking your thumb into your fist you sucked him slowly, bobbing your head up and down gently. His other hand came back to rest on your cheek in a moment of tenderness that counteracted the sublime sin in your mouth.

Evidently the supposed trick was proven to be false for when he poked the back of your throat you gagged. His hands attempted to pull you off but you remained in place—resigned to keeping him completely encased in your warmth. Taking one of his hands off your face you tangled your fingers together and breathed through your nose, resuming your hedonistic suckling.

The faster you sucked the more his breaths became ragged. He was a fairly respectable man when he wasn’t a merciless pirate, though his careful respectfulness only encouraged your mouth to service him more provocatively. He deserved it. You let your saliva run freely as trails of drool dribbled past your lips, lapping your tongue sloppily around the shaft. With an erotic hum you slurped him down your throat. He panted as more of your mouth juices coated your fingers, and he gripped your head tighter as curses tumbled from his lips.

“Fuck. You love having me in your mouth, don’t you?”

You removed yourself from his length and sat back on your knees, eyes wet from your fervent efforts.

“I love it. I love it so fucking much.”

He shifted to lean his arm on the mattress, cocking his head to the side.

“You want me to fuck your pretty mouth?”

You were unable to answer, too preoccupied with rocking back and forth for some relief.

“Well?”

You took him in your hand and stroked idly as you carefully considered your words.

“I wanna shove you so far down my throat that I can hardly breathe.”

The hand still on your head tugged you closer until you were a mere centimeter away. Your tongue poked out to swipe kitten licks along the head.

“Go ahead and show me how much you want me”

Molten molasses dripped into your panties as you gobbled him up, consuming him completely. You pulled more grunts from his lips, licking, bobbing, and slurping noisily. You made it nasty, showing how much you hungered—how much you craved him. No longer holding himself back he groaned and began thrusting into your mouth. Holding you in place he bucked his hips, shoving himself further down your throat. All hesitancy of his vanished as he used you, tugging his pants down his knees and squeezing his thighs around your head. His ragged breaths grew heavier as you brought him closer and closer to the edge, and you prepared yourself to swallow his milk when he forcefully pulled you off.

“Law please, let me...”

“Get up and lay on the bed.”

You wanted to continue protesting but you were still in an agreeable mood and did as you were told, sitting down on the plush mattress and scooting back against the pillows. He stood to remove his pants and boxers in one fell swoop, making the mattress dip as he mirrored your previous position between his legs.

“I’m gonna give you something he hasn’t, and I want you to picture him watching as I make you cum.”

An icy fist clutched your heart as flashes of green skittered across your mind’s eye. You could almost feel the other stolen piece of your heart toss you a look of amusement as Law slid off your panties. A warm and dexterous tongue flicked between your lower lips and you let out a whimper and covered your mouth.

“Lemme hear you,” he murmured into your skin, nosing your bud.

“I don’t want my voice to bounce off the walls. What if someone hears?”

He considered your words before sitting up.

“Room.”

An invisible, spherical barrier of chantilly lace enclosed your bodies in a noiseless cocoon.

“Silent.”

“What the hell was that?”

He laid back down and kissed your folds.

“Now no one will be able to hear you except for me.”

A thrill of electricity sparked as he hooked your legs over his shoulders—your heart thundering in your chest as his breaths puffed against your sex. A slick river of ambrosia trickled down towards your ass and he licked it clean, groaning as he buried his face into your pussy.

“Fuck, you taste so sweet. I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you.”

You wished he hadn’t brought up your eventual departure as your eyes prickled with unshed tears.

“Law, please don’t.”

He licked a long stripe between your folds, wiggling his tongue inside to lap at your juices. Your head fell back as he devoured you, strumming the strings of your longing and playing a ballad of burgeoning ecstasy. The frolicking staccato of your moans married with the symphonic melody of your panting—crescendoing louder when he thrust three fingers inside. Notes of D, E, and A pulled a debaucherous allegro from your walls. He tuned your body to the very key of his choosing.

You clambered closer and closer to your peak and you knew you’d be too exhausted to continue if you prematurely toppled over the edge. With laborious difficulty you pulled him off your heat, shuddering as your body somersaulted back down.

“Law I need you to fuck me. I can’t wait anymore.”

Danger flashed in his eyes and you flattened yourself into the bed.

“I hope you know what you’re asking for. I’ve been holding myself back all this time.”

You knew he wasn’t just referring to tonight. Shuddering from the threat you opened your legs wider and parted your pussy lips with your fingers as an invitation to him. He covered your body with his and lay wet kisses on your face.

“Law. Please.”

His hand cupped your jaw and turned your head to the side, licking sloppy swipes of his tongue along your neck and down your throat. His hips ground against yours as he coated his dick with your juices.

Taking hold and positioning himself at your entrance, he poked your puffy flesh with his head. You wrapped your legs around his waist and he surged forward, halfway sheathing himself inside. He filled you more and more as he bucked his hips forward, further enveloping himself inside your wetness. As he settled at his hilt you brought your knees up, opening yourself completely for him to take.

“Law I want you to use me”

He throbbed and slid his arms beneath your back to grasp your shoulders and hold you close.

“I’m not going to use you. I’m going to pour everything into you that I’ve wanted to give to you all this time.”

You gasped when he thrusted roughly, the slow and steady rhythm of his balls slapping against your ass making you quiver. His mouth hovered over yours as his fingers dug into your flesh, and the harmony of your moans smoothed over the carnality of your want. Your sweat-slicked bodies glided against each other, and the squelching sounds of your slick ricocheted against the walls of your sonically concealed bubble. Senseless babbling urged him on as he fucked into you faster, knocking himself into your hips and pressing your knees up to your chest.

“Fuck, I wanna keep you. Wanna keep you right here with me. Can’t let you go.”

Goose-pimples freckled your flesh as you gushed around him. He’d hit your fleshy and sensitive center sooner than you’d hoped, and you arched off the bed with a wail.

“Law…Law…Law…” you chanted, curling into him when he released his bruising grip on your legs. As he continued grinding his hips the springs of the bed squeaked in exhaustion, and you were endlessly thankful for his versatile technique.

“Can I have you? Are you mine?”

“I’m yours Law. I’ll always be yours.”

You felt a moment of guilt knowing there was still another piece of your heart being held by another man, but you were soon distracted when the stilted pap, pap, pap of his hips grew rougher, and his hand lunged forward to grip the headboard. Your world was filled to the brim with watery sobs and heady groans, rising into an amalgamation of calcified bliss.

You came before him when his calloused fingers slipped over your bud in messy circles—quaking and shivering as your toes curled. Your body continued to shake as his skin slapped into yours, filthy promises of ruination filling your ears.

He soon pulled out and fucked into his fist in a frenzy, spilling himself on your stomach and thighs. Your heaving breaths intermingled with his as he dragged his dick filthily along the trail of his spend.

You were fucked. Physically and mentally so. The words you’d locked away in a carbon coated safe threatened to seep through the cracks as you tangled your fingers into his messy, onyx locks. He cradled your face in his hands, his new favorite thing to do, as he traced your lips with his thumb and littered kisses along your lips and cheeks. A painful sob threatened to escape, and you were frustrated as tears spilled from your eyes.

“Law I…”

“I know. Me too.”

Your happiness was bittersweet as you drew shapes along his back before he finally settled down beside you and covered you both with the covers. Turning to face him you slipped a leg between his and wrapped an arm over his waist, enjoying his heat seeping into your body.

With a flick of his wrist he muttered a “shambles” and your privacy dome disappeared, golden lights dimming as you both succumbed to a delicious, dreamy slumber.

#myfic #Trafalgar Law x reader #Law x reader #Trafalgar Law #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader #Roronoa Zoro #I don’t know what else to tag this as lmfao #attention series

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theladyofthevarioussorrows · 1 month

Text

Sunspots

Fandom: Sunshine (2007)

Pairing: Robert Capa x fem!reader

Word count: 6,400+

Characters: Robert Capa (Cillian Murphy), the rest of the cast is only mentioned.

Summary: Alternate universe (duh). Reader is the 9th crew member on the Icarus II as a second physicist assigned to assist Capa; she and Capa started dating at some point during the mission. But, in this story, the mission was successful, and everyone lived to make it back to Earth; the reader and Capa have been together ever since. The story takes place during a solar eclipse two or three years or so after they make it back to Earth, and as to be expected, Capa is excited about and fascinated by the eclipse, and so is the reader. He is set on making it a beautiful and romantic experience for her, especially since it was because of them that they can see it from Earth.

Warnings and additional tags: Fluff, smut (p in v), established relationship, mention of masturbation (m and f), the mission is successful in this (everyone makes it back to Earth in one piece), soft!dom Capa if you squint, Capa is slightly out of character in this (he's happy, he's deeply in love with the reader, and he's a little bit of a tease), mention of airsickness, reader-insert, reader-interactive, reader uses Capa's first name a few times, Capa calls the reader "sunshine" (I think it's fucking cute okay? Sue me. I'm just a girl.).

Notes: This is my first fic in literal years, and it is in two parts...both are in this post. I took a lot of liberties here. Necessary ones I think, but liberties nonetheless. I don’t know a lot about space and space travel. I know very little about it actually. However, I did do some research (if you could call it that) and tried to make it as accurate to the movie as I could. I had a ton of fun writing this! I miiiiiiiiight add to this later on, we'll see! I hope you guys like it!

--->Smut below the cut! NSFW, minors DO NOT INTERACT!<---

He had been planning this for months. Years, to be exact. Up until now, he was convinced that if he made it back in one piece, he would have been alone.

Capa had spent over a year cramped up on the Icarus II with eight other crew members. Kaneda, Searle, Trey, Corazon, and Cassie seemed to take him seriously a good chunk of the time, but stayed mostly neutral towards him. Harvey and Mace tended to direct a lot of their anger towards him. Whether it was out of jealousy, anxiety, or whatever else, it didn’t matter what their reasoning behind ganging up on the lead physicist was. Despite their unfounded animosities, it was Capa’s stellar bomb that would reignite the Sun and save humanity from extinction. Even though tensions were understandably high, Capa was the only person aboard the Icarus II who knew the gravity and the importance of the mission they were tasked with carrying out. In other words, he was the only one who knew how to operate the device to perform such a miracle. It was really no surprise to anyone that they put Capa in charge of the payload; he understood the mission better than anyone else on the ship, and it showed. Mace and Harvey began to back off once it finally began to sink in that their lives depended on Capa, and because of that, they should take it easy on him. Try to, at least.

Of all the other astronauts on the Icarus II, Capa felt the closest to Y/L/N, the second physicist, a young woman wise beyond her years who was assigned to work alongside Capa. She was a bit younger than him and the rest of the crew, but she proved to have a level-headed way of looking at things, while also presenting herself with an air of cautious optimism. Her grace and appreciation of everything each of the members were doing drew Capa to her, something that initially made him nervous. She captivated him in a mysterious but welcome way, and she was nowhere near immune to his unique allure and quiet charm.

She would watch him in awe as he spoke, completely entranced by his intelligence. Every word he said, every move he made…she felt it in her heart, and deep in her core. After watching her perform her duties effortlessly without ever faltering once, Capa began to feel at ease with her, and he caught himself quietly thanking the forces that be for pairing the two of them together.

It took a lot of effort on his part to keep his composure around her, and little did he know, it was just as difficult for her to behave herself around him. He knew he was falling for her, and he tried to keep it down as long as he possibly could, just in case his feelings for her weren’t reciprocated. Even though she did feel the same way about him, she made a valiant effort to stay focused on the tasks at hand, despite the ever-looming temptation.

She and Capa grew close after spending hours alone working out equations or going over calculations, and even just spending whatever free time they had talking about anything and everything, but nothing too wild or personal just yet. After one particularly restless night, she left her quarters and came out to the common area to find Capa at the table, his head in his hands. He noticed her and lifted his face to look at her, a faint smile escaping his lips.

“Oh, hey. I take it you couldn’t sleep either?” Capa asked her, rubbing the tiredness from his eyes as he shifted in his seat. She looked absolutely beautiful to him, still in her sleep clothes that fit her perfectly, the fabric slightly revealing but leaving just enough to the imagination, her hair down and slightly tousled. His gaze accidentally drifted to her thighs and hips, and he looked away suddenly, focusing back on her face. Capa was trying hard to keep his cool as she stood in front of him, fighting back thoughts of how much better those clothes would look on his bedroom floor. He struggled to push the thought away, and was internally failing miserably at it.

She also felt an all-too-familiar feeling between her legs seeing Capa sitting there in his gray tank top shirt, his hair falling on his shoulders in the sexiest way possible. She couldn’t help but notice his well-defined arms, and traced the path of his veins with her eyes. She tried not to stare at him, and swallowed before she answered. “Yeah, unfortunately. A lot to do, a lot to think about, you know?” she answered back as she walked over to the table to sit down next to him. “Do you mind if I sit with you for a while?”

He motioned for her to sit down, welcoming her. “Oh no, not at all, the company would be nice. And yes, you’re right, there’s tons to think about for sure.” He sat up straighter and turned to face her better as he cleared his throat quietly, still fighting with his wandering mind.

She let out a small breath of relief before she sat down. She turned toward him and continued to speak. “What’s on your mind?” she asked. Even though she was concerned and was aware he was under an insane amount of pressure, she knew Capa had everything under control, and she trusted his judgment completely. “We can talk about it if you’d like.”

He takes a deep breath before answering her. “I guess it’s just nerves. You and I have run the calculations countless times now, and we’re on the correct path with everything, the payload is operational and all that…but I’m still a bit anxious about it. It’s nothing crazy, but, you know…” his voice trails off before looking into her eyes. “I just hope everything goes to plan, that’s all. I don’t think we have any reason to think it won’t, but still.”

She looked back at Capa. “Oh believe me, I totally understand.” She moves closer to him in an attempt to reassure him as she rests her hand on his. “But hey, I have faith that we can get it done and all will be well with the universe.” She smiled. “You’re doing amazing, by the way.”

Capa began to blush as he smiled back, softly but warmly. “Aww, thanks. Just doing my job.” He turned his hand over under hers, holding it gently as their fingers tangled together. “You’re doing great, too. We’re so lucky to have you with us…with me.” His heart skipped a beat. He couldn’t believe he said that out loud, but he didn’t bother trying to go back on it either. “I know I am.” His ocean blue eyes looked at her face, searching for any sign of discomfort or apprehension. He was relieved to find neither in her expression, just her smiling and blushing back at him.

She felt his words deep inside her as if a bomb on a much smaller scale was going off within her chest, and his words almost didn’t register with her right away. She smiled and blushed deeply before continuing. “That’s very sweet of you to say…thank you,” she answered. Despite the fact that they have spent a lot of time alone together in recent weeks, the tension in the room was noticeably thicker…so thick that you could slice it in the air with a scalpel. “I try my best. It’s all I can do, really.” She held onto his hand a little tighter as they gazed into each other’s eyes.

Capa broke the brief silence. “Hey…” he began, speaking warily but keeping his smile. “There’s been something I’ve been meaning to ask you. I’ve been waiting for the right time, and I’m not quite sure when that would be or would have been…I hope you won’t take it the wrong way.”

She looked back at Capa, curious but cautious. “Sure, you can ask me anything. What’s up?” He returned the gentle squeeze of her hand and softly grazed his thumb over her knuckles.

Capa took a deep breath, and looked away from her for a split second before directing his focus right back on her. He could feel his face getting warmer, his fair-skinned face turning a faint pink. He hesitated for a beat before throwing caution to the wind to speak his mind.

“Well…you know how we’ve been spending a lot of time together lately? Not just on protocol and calculations and whatever else…but in general?” He continued to hold her gaze while he waited for her response.

“Yeah, of course. Why?” she asked as she looked at him, still smiling and holding his hand, butterflies forming in her stomach. “Is everything okay?” she asked, trying to gauge where the conversation is going without assuming anything or jumping to any conclusions.

“Oh yeah, everything is fine, all things considered. Amazing, actually…” He swallowed quietly before beginning again. “Um…I guess what I’m trying to say is…I feel closer to you than anyone else on the ship…” He paused and chuckled nervously before he continued to speak. “It’s been a long time since I’ve felt such a connection to someone. You understand me in a way that everyone else doesn’t, and I really appreciate that. A lot.” He smiled and blushed deeper.

She smiled and blushed deeper as well. “I’m glad I can make you feel that way.” She moved closer to him. “I feel the same way about you.”

He reached his free hand up to gently brush some of her hair out of her face, softly caressing her cheek as he did it. “You’re just…I don’t know what the right word is. Exhilarating? Refreshing, maybe? I guess what I mean to say is…” he trailed off before cupping the side of her face with his hand while holding onto her hand with the other. “I’m falling for you. I mean…I have fallen for you. You’re on my mind constantly.” He gazed at her for a beat before continuing his thought. “I hope that doesn’t make anything weird or awkward.” He searched your face again for any opposition. Yet again, he didn’t find any of either.

Capa wasn’t one to divulge his deepest, darkest secrets to anyone, but it took every ounce of his being not to tell her that he’s seen her face behind his eyelids almost every night for the past two or so months, her name in his throat every time his need for her took over. He let it spill all over himself when he couldn’t sleep, which was unfortunately often. She wasn’t going to tell him that she touched herself to the thought of him any time the mood struck her either, soaking her fingers and her sheets beneath her. The two of them, separated only by a thin wall, had been breathing each other’s names as they reached completion for quite some time, and neither of them had shared any feelings for each other until today. As luck would have it, their feelings were mutual.

She leaned into his hand as she looked back at him. “It’s not weird, I promise…I’ve fallen for you too. I’d be lying if I told you I didn’t.” She gazed at him, full of love and infatuation. “You’re all I think about.”

Capa looked back at her with the same intensity. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear that,” he replied. He leaned in closer to her still, less than a foot of space between them. “What I really wanted to ask is…” he trailed off as he caressed her cheek and jawline. “I know this isn’t ideal, and I’m sorry about that…but I want this mission to continue with no regrets. I would hate myself forever if I never told you how I really feel about you. With that being said…would you be okay with us seeing where this goes?” His eyes never left hers as he confessed his love for her. “I want to be with you…if you’ll have me. Now, and, God willing, after the mission, too.”

Her heart pounded in her chest as she heard his words. “Of course I will. I want to be with you, too. I want nothing more than to be with you.”

Capa smiled and let out a sigh of relief before he spoke again. “Thank you…really. You mean everything to me, and I want you to know that…I’ll never let you forget it.” He closed any remaining distance between the two of them. He caressed her face tenderly once more. “May I…?”

She smiled at him with admiration and anticipation. “Yes, you may.”

Capa closed his eyes, leaned in, and kissed her gingerly at first, her eyes fluttering shut. She tilted her head as she kissed him back. Their kiss grew more and more passionate as seconds passed. He held her head gently and he ran his fingers through her hair as she wrapped her arms around his neck, their tongues dancing together softly. Capa slowly broke the kiss and opened his eyes. She opened hers as they pulled away, their pupils blown out with love and desire. He wrapped his arms around her as she pulled him into a tight hug, resting her head in the crook of his neck.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long…” he breathed into her hair as he rubbed his hands on her back, inhaling her sweet scent. “Thank you…I mean it.” Capa blushed some more as he took another deep breath. “God, you make me feel like I’m a teenager again.”

“Me too…you’re absolutely lovely,” she replied, hugging him tighter. “You’re the man I’ve always dreamed of.” She broke the hug before looking into his icy blue eyes again. “Does this mean we’re together?” she asked, blushing and smiling.

Capa smiled back at her. “It does…is that okay with you?” He brushed some of her hair over her shoulder before caressing her face again.

“That is more than okay with me,” she answered. “So, what now?”

Capa blushed deeper as he smiled. “Come here…” He stood up from the table and held his hand out for her to take. She accepted his hand and stood up as he put his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck as his plush lips met hers again, kissing her with more intensity and urgency than he had before. She matched his passion as she returned his kiss, tangling her fingers in his long, dark, soft hair.

Noticing her need for him in her movements, Capa moved his kisses from her lips to her chin and jawline, then down along her neck and collarbone, immediately appreciating her reaction as she moaned quietly, tugging on his gray sleeveless shirt. She mused to herself about how effortlessly gorgeous he looked in it again, biting her lip at the thought, instantly reminded of all those nights she fantasized about taking it off of him. Lost in lustful longing, she struggled to get the words out.

“How did you know that I…maybe…we should probably…go somewhere else…” she whispered in between heavy breaths and soft whimpers. “Someone might wonder…what if someone wakes up and…” This is the first time he’d ever kissed her, and he already figured out one of the things that drives her crazy, knocking the air out of her lungs without trying to.

Capa chuckled slyly as he softly shushed her before he agreed. “A wild guess? But yeah…good call.” He gently pulled her with him towards his small bedroom. “We’ll deal with everyone else later. You’re all that matters to me right now.” He opened his door and let her in before shutting it behind him and locking the two of them inside. He looked at her with concern. “Are you okay with this? We don’t have to…you know…if you don’t want to…” His voice was low and seductive as he moved his hands under her shirt, tracing the curve of her spine and her shoulder blades with his fingers.

She spoke as he trailed off. “Yes, I want to…I want you. I’m sure about this. Are you?” she answered, looking back at him lovingly.

“As sure as I’m alive,” Capa answered, smiling back at her with just as much love. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life.” He kissed her some more before gently pushing her backwards onto his bed and positioned himself between her spread legs as he laid her down.

They spent the rest of the night making love to each other, over and over, drawing out every single moment to make it last as long as possible, and after at least a few hours, they wore each other out completely. Their first entanglement started out slow and sensual until their hunger for each other consumed them. They tried their absolute hardest to keep the noise to a minimum, but that became increasingly difficult for the both of them as their makeout heated up and clothes started to fall away.

Capa was gentle with her for their first time having sex, leaving no part of her untouched or unkissed, committing every inch of her skin to memory as if it was their last night alive. As far as he was aware, the woman underneath him was nothing short of a goddess. She gladly returned the favor, marveling at his incredible beauty. She was completely amazed at how he looked as if he was carved from stone, his whole body breathtakingly perfect to her. As far as they were concerned, it very well could have been their final night together. Neither of them were worried about that now, focusing solely on each other.

She was tight like a vice and sopping wet around him, and he stretched her so deliciously that he would whisper his praises in her ear, encouraging her. Capa made it a habit to cover her mouth as he took her, something she learned to absolutely lose her mind over. If he wasn’t covering her mouth as he brought her to climax, he would make sure to devour her with hot kisses as she contracted around him, bringing his orgasm forth soon after. As much as he would have loved for her to be as loud as she possibly could, Capa found it incredibly sexy and oddly endearing when she struggled to stay quiet under him, her eyes rolling into the back of her head as he poured himself into her.

She was able to rile Capa up in all the best ways possible as well, and he too had some difficulty trying to keep his voice down. One round turned into two, and then three…and on and on until both of them were sore and exhausted. Once they were able to catch their breath, Capa would make sure he didn’t wreck her too much, and if he did, he’d kiss it all away, and she would follow suit. “I love you�� were three little words that neither of them could ever get sick of saying or hearing from the other.

After all of their daily tasks were taken care of for the day, every night on the Icarus II thereafter was spent in each other’s arms, whether in Capa’s bed or hers. On nights when they weren’t ravishing each other half to death with reckless abandon, she and Capa would lay in bed together and talk about whatever came to mind until they fell asleep tangled up in each other. She and Capa were able to keep their new relationship a secret for about a week maximum before the crew found out on their own. They were delighted to discover that none of the rest of the crew were surprised that they ended up together. There was initially some concern, but ultimately the crew accepted it and let it continue, because they knew that these moments the crew had together could be the last they have with anyone, so who cares if two of the crew members fell in love?

Mace ribbed Capa about his enthusiastic nightly activities with Y/L/N, and it was nice that he wasn’t fighting with him for once. It was hard for him to believe that Capa, the usually soft-spoken physicist, had that effect on Y/L/N. He even mentioned to Cassie that he has never seen Capa smile as much as he did now, and Cassie added that Y/L/N had a glow about her. For someone as quiet and reserved as Capa, Mace found it amusing that his new girlfriend could bring him out of his shell like that, and although he would never admit it, he was glad that it was Y/L/N.

Capa was bashful about discussing his relationship with Y/L/N to the others, shying away from the sexual aspect, but he had no issue praising her and giving her credit when it was due. It was obvious that he was absolutely head over heels for Y/L/N, and she blushed anytime the crew teased her or tried to get her to reveal any juicy details about their rendezvous behind closed cabin doors. They were in love, and it brought a new positive energy to the rest of the mission. Kaneda was thankful that everyone seemed to be getting along better and in good spirits, while Trey and Harvey were indifferent towards the two physicists becoming a couple, but thrilled for them nonetheless.

Searle, being a doctor, wasn’t really concerned with it, but was also excited for them. He pretended not to notice the love marks Capa bit into Y/L/N’s neck or the faint scratches she had left on Capa’s shoulders, and especially tried to ignore the way Y/L/N would squirm slightly when she sat down. Corazon, happily content that a relationship so strong could come from something so hellish, reminded everyone that they had a surplus of oxygen coming from the garden due to overgrowth. The crew would still have more than enough oxygen to go around, whether Capa and Y/L/N were “fucking like rabbits” or not, as Mace put it.

After a few weeks of calculations, trajectory adjustments, and protocols during the day and exploring each other and falling in love more and more at night, Capa led the rest of the crew to carry out the mission successfully. Capa made sure everything was done exactly to plan, and he didn’t do anything without his girl by his side, from the ignition of the bomb all the way through the terrifying trek back to Earth.

It didn’t matter how many times the crew had practiced and prepared for the descent back to solid ground, the airsickness still hit Y/L/N the hardest. It was the part of being an astronaut she hated the most, and she never quite got used to it. Capa was well aware of this having seen her go through it during their zero-gravity training, and he felt bad that it was hard on her. He was one of the lucky ones who could handle it well; the worst of it for him was a slight change in equilibrium that left him briefly lightheaded. But now he took care of her lovingly, holding her hair out of the way and rubbing her back as the nausea won the battle against her, never leaving her side until he knew she was okay.

She was embarrassed about it as it was happening, not wanting anyone to see her so violently ill, but was eventually able to joke about it once the sick, spinning feeling dissipated. All of that initial anxiety melted away knowing her boyfriend was right there beside her, making sure she felt well enough before taking care of any other necessary tasks. He reassured her that a lot of people are really sensitive to it, and that it’s nothing to be ashamed of. In an attempt to make light of the situation, Capa reminded her that the reduced-gravity aircraft they used during their weightlessness training was called the “Vomit Comet” for a reason.

As the Icarus II landed, the crew was met with a massive crowd of people cheering them on, congratulating them on their historic achievement, while also mourning the deaths of the previous Icarus crew. Once everyone was back to their normal selves, or as close to it as possible, Cassie, Mace, Corazon, Trey, Searle, Harvey, and Kaneda all went back to their homes in various places around the world.

Meanwhile, Capa and Y/L/N settled down somewhere in the halfway point between their hometowns, close enough to Capa’s sister and her kids in one direction, and Y/L/N’s family in the other. They had found themselves a nice house outside of the city, and the two built their own small planetarium in their backyard together. Their two-story home was modest but just enough for them; not too small, but not too big either. It was there that they stayed happily for the next couple of years.

______________________________________________________________

It was a warm April day, but to Capa, it wasn’t just any typical day. Today was special.

The solar eclipse was happening today. He hadn’t seen an eclipse on Earth in many years. He has seen a few eclipses from the vantage point of the Icarus II in space, but it’s been a long time since he’s experienced one from the ground, and it just so happened that the path of totality was going right over his house he shared with his girlfriend, Y/L/N.

Of course, being a physicist and an astronaut, he knew the date and time of when the Moon was supposed to pass in front of the Sun ahead of time -- months, maybe years in advance -- and he knew he wanted to experience it with the love of his life. Even more than that, he wanted to make the experience as beautiful and as romantic as he possibly could. It was because of the couple and the rest of the Icarus II crew that they were able to view such a remarkable thing from Earth after all.

While Y/L/N was away for a few hours finishing a few last-minute errands, Capa was busy in their backyard in the midday spring air, setting up a massive telescope and a camera. Next to his setup, he spread out a large blanket on the grass, and on it he set a bottle of wine and two glasses. As he was getting the angle of the telescope just right and setting the time lapse to the correct adjustments on the camera, he thought he heard Y/L/N’s car pull into their driveway. As she got out of the car, she looked around for him, but didn’t see him right away.

“Sweetheart, I’m home!” she called out. She waited a second before calling out for him again. “Robert? Honey?”

“I’m in the backyard, baby,” he called back to her. “I’ll be right there.” Capa walked over to her to help her carry the bags into the house. He helped her put the groceries away in the kitchen, and once everything had been taken in and put away, he pulled her to his chest and wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing her deeply, leaving her breathless. She kissed him back, returning his intensity as she held onto his shoulders. She wobbled a little, but Capa held onto her tight, not letting her fall. He gently broke the kiss, his arms still around her.

“Welcome home, sunshine,” Capa said, his eyes full of love. “I was getting nervous for a second there.”

A little dizzy from his kiss, she giggled before answering. “I’m sorry, sweetheart…traffic was backed up, but I made it.” She kissed him again as she hugged him. “How much time do we have until everything goes dark?”

Capa returned the kiss, gently running his hands up and down her back. “We have about half an hour or so before we can see anything happen.” He smiled at her as he played with her hair lovingly. “Might as well head outside so we don’t miss anything cool…what do you think, angel?”

She blushed as she leaned into his touch. “Sure, hun. Let’s go.” She took his hand as he led her outside to their backyard. He helped her sit down on the blanket he put out for them before sitting down next to her. Her eyes widened at the romantic scene he had created for the two of them, the telescope and the camera, as well as the bottle of wine and glasses, and the string lights he attached to the sides of their little planetarium.

He opened the bottle and poured the wine into a glass and handed it to her, before doing the same for himself. “Here you go, my love,” he said as he handed the glass to her.

She gently took the glass from him and smiled. “Thank you, sweetheart.” They tapped their glasses together before they each took a sip. “God, baby, this is really beautiful,” she said, her voice wavering slightly as she rested her head on his shoulder.

He kissed her forehead tenderly. “Not nearly as beautiful as you are,” he said as he smiled back, wrapping his arm around her. “I love you so much. Forever and always.” he said as he planted another small kiss on the top of her head.

“I love you too. So much. With my whole heart.” she replied, nuzzling up closer to him.

Capa leaned over to kiss her on the lips one more time. “Shouldn’t be too much longer…it’s getting kinda dark, and it’s quiet all of a sudden.” He moved slightly to look through the telescope lens. “We’re really close now, I think.” He pulled away and moved the lens towards her. “Here, look at this…it reminds me of all those eclipses you and I used to watch together on the ship, just smaller and farther away.”

She looked through the lens and smiled. “I’ll never get tired of looking at things like this,” she said as the sky started to dim. “It’s always so breathtaking to see.”

While she was distracted by looking at the interstellar image in the eyepiece of the telescope, he stood up and reached into his pocket to pull out an engagement ring with a sunstone gem encrusted in the center, and hid it inside his hand. The sky was getting darker still, and the Moon was almost completely covering the Sun.

“Y/F/N?” he asked as he stood in front of her.

She pulled away from the telescope, and Capa helped her to her feet with his free hand. “Yes, Robert?” she asked as the Moon moved closer to blocking the Sun. “What is it?” The sky turned pitch black except for the light coming from the Sun beginning to hide behind the Moon.

He swallowed as he chose his words carefully. “You mean the world to me, Y/F/N. You are my world. Being with you has made me the happiest man on Earth.” He slowly dropped down to one knee in front of her, causing her to gasp as he took her left hand in both of his. “I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life right here with you. Will you marry me?” he asked gently and lovingly as tears started to form in his eyes.

She trembled and started to cry tears of joy. “Oh my God…yes! Of course I’ll marry you!”

Tears started to fall down his cheeks as he slipped the ring onto her finger. He stood back up and took her into his arms and kissed her deeply. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him back, his tears mixing with hers. Overhead, the Sun appeared as a white circle in the sky, while the string lights glimmered behind them in the darkness caused by the eclipse.

“I love you, sunshine. More than anything else in the universe.” Capa said as he gently wiped away the tears from her face. He smiled as he wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug. As they held each other, the sky began to brighten back up. He pulled away from the hug to kiss her deeply again. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart. So much. More than words can ever say.” she replied, kissing away his tears. “I can’t wait to be your wife.”

Capa blushed. “And I can’t wait to be your husband.” He kissed her back, holding her tightly in silence for a bit before speaking again. “So how was that? Pretty awesome, huh?”

She giggled and blushed. “Everything was amazing! Absolutely beautiful! I’m the luckiest woman on the planet to have you.” She kissed his cheek as she held him close.

Capa smiled and blushed as well. “Good, I’m glad. And I’m the luckiest man on the planet to have you, too.” He kissed her back with a little bit more passion than before. “I was thinking…”

She kissed him back, matching his intensity. “Oh? Thinking about what?” she asked, looking into his beautiful cobalt blue eyes.

“I was thinking that maybe we can go to bed early tonight…you know, to celebrate,” he said with an air of seduction in his voice. “And we don’t have anything going on tomorrow…” He kissed her again, this time biting her bottom lip softly and tugging on it with his teeth before letting it go, eliciting a small moan from her.

She kissed him back, feeling a wet warmth pool between her thighs as he ran his hands up and down her body. She moaned breathlessly before speaking. “Yeah? And how should we do that?”

Capa smiled wickedly as he began to kiss her jawline and collarbone before leaving a lingering kiss where her neck meets her shoulder. “Well, I could start there…”

She moaned a little louder. “My God…you know what happens when you do that…” she breathed as he continued to tease her.

Capa laughed slyly. “Believe me, I’m well aware of what happens, and I’ll never get sick of it. What do you say we go upstairs…” he trailed off before kissing her neck again, his teeth lightly scraping against her collarbone. “I’ve spent enough time exploring the sky when I’d much rather spend all night exploring my future wife,” he murmured, his lips against hers. “And every night after that.”

She swooned at his words, feeling weak at the knees in his arms. “Anything you say, baby,” she whispered. “I’m all yours. Forever.”

“Forever with you sounds pretty fantastic to me,” he said, full of desire for her. Wasting no time at all, Capa took her by the hand and led her into the house. “I’ll be right back, babe. I’ll meet you in the bedroom in a minute,” he said, his voice dripping with lustful need. She didn’t need him to tell her twice as she started up the stairs, but not before he playfully swatted her on the ass on her way up, making her giggle. He practically ran out to bring everything they had left outside into the house as fast as he could, shutting the door behind him with a soft slam when he came back in. He threw the blanket on a chair, leaned the telescope against the wall, set the camera down next to it, and brought the bottle of wine and the two glasses upstairs with him. He entered their bedroom and put everything in his hands on the nightstand.

Capa saw his now-fiancée sitting on the edge of their bed, eagerly waiting for him. “Took you long enough,” she teased him as she bit her lip looking at him. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever come back.” Her voice was sultry as she shifted on their mattress.

Blushing, Capa rolled his eyes in mock annoyance as he smiled, and teased her right back. “I was gone maybe two seconds max…you want me that bad already, huh?” She nodded as he took her into his arms again, kissing her deeply as he pulled her closer. Kneeling on the mattress in front of him as he stood at the edge of the bed, she returned his kisses as she lifted his shirt up and over his head before tossing it to the floor. “Good, because I need to have you right now,” he said, his excitement becoming nearly painful. Capa then started to undo the buttons of her shirt, fumbling with them slightly before giving in. He ripped it clear off of her shoulders, sending buttons flying in all directions, causing her to gasp and giggle in delight. He dragged her ruined shirt off of her shoulders and threw it behind him as he pulled one of the straps of her bra down to kiss her collarbone.

“You asked for it, love…I told you, you know what happens when you kiss me and bite me like that.” She kissed him again as she started to unbuckle his belt. “I think you know by now I can’t behave when you torture me.” She shot him a sexy wink before kissing him again. His breath caught in his throat as she tore his belt from around his hips and threw it to the floor to join his shirt.

“Torture, huh? Are you sure? Because something tells me you enjoy it. Quite a lot.” His voice had a sensual danger about it, and it thrilled her. He held her chin with his forefinger and thumb before dropping his voice to a velvety whisper. “And yes, I know exactly what happens. I want to see how much you can take. I also happen to know each and every thing that drives you wild.” He unhooked her bra with his free hand and took it off of her so slowly that she trembled. “See? Just like that.”

Thank you for reading! I hope you guys liked it, and if you did, I'd be happy to hear your thoughts and my requests are open! <3

#cillian murphy #robert capa #robert capa x reader #smut #fluff #cillian murphy smut #robert capa smut #sunshine 2007 #Spotify #solar eclipse

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1800-fight-me · 1 year

Text

The Phantom of the Red Keep

Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader

Phantom of the Opera AU

Rating: M (Mature)- as a general rule for my blog, minors please do not interact!

Warnings: Gothic horror romance vibes, violence, very sensual scenes but nothing explicit, jealous and possessive aemond- this is not what we would consider a healthy relationship lol

Word count: About 8.5k

Synopsis: You are haunted by the phantom of the Red Keep and he is determined to make you his.

Author’s note: This is not an exact retelling of Phantom of the Opera, it is based off of the vibes and loose plot, though I took a ton of liberties and of course the villain gets the happy ending in my version. This has been long awaited and its finally here and I am so excited!! I hope this lives up to the hype! Thank you so much @anepitomeofgrace for the mood board!

Important announcement!! I am no longer using a taglist! Instead if you would like to be notified when I post new fics follow my side blog @jo-writes-fanfic and turn your post notifications on!

Aemond Masterlist

You moved into the Red Keep when you were a young girl after your mother died and your father was given a position in the king’s small council. Everyone warned you of the ghosts that reside there.

But you never were very afraid of ghosts.

When a phantom voice began to speak to you through the walls at night, you were not afraid but rather enchanted.

Your ghost had a beautiful voice, soft and low, as he whispered secrets to you from within the castle walls.

Years passed and you told no one of your encounters with the phantom of the Red Keep, preferring instead to keep his existence to yourself.

You used what he taught you to your advantage. People often questioned where and how you learned to navigate the political landscape of the capital city so well and how you seemed to know everything that happened within it, but you would not reveal your ghost to others.

He was your watchful eye, your teacher, your companion in loneliness, your salvation.

You often wondered if he was truly a ghost or if the rumors of the scarred and reclusive prince were true.

But you never dared to ask, scared you would offend and lose him.

You heard his voice even in your slumber, the soft lilt of his accent as he led you into dreams, dark and deep and often of him.

He called your name, voice low and seductive, and you smiled.

“Tell me of your day,” he ordered as you unfastened the bodice of your dress in preparation to retire for the night.

You never worried if your phantom could see you in states of undress for a part of you would always belong to him, and besides, he was a ghost, or so you believed.

“Lord Stark did in fact attempt to make a move like you warned me he would,” you said softly as you slipped the dress off your body.

“Hm,” the unpleased hum echoed through the room.

“I managed to dissuade his efforts,” you said softly.

“Your father will not tolerate your insolence for much longer,” he mused.

You sighed as you pulled on your nightgown.

“I do not wish to marry.” The end of the sentence, ‘anyone but you’ went unspoken.

For how do you confess to a ghost that you love him?

The soft chuckle heard made your heart thump in your chest as you slipped beneath the sheets of your bed.

“You will eventually be forced,” he said.

“But you can still help me to delay the inevitable, yes?”

“Of course, my sweet,” he promised.

You sighed in contentment.

“Will you tell me another story about dragons to help me sleep?”

You drifted off to sleep with images of fire breathing dragons in your sleep and the warmth of your phantom’s voice in your ears.

———————-

“How interesting,” you said and your bored tone betrayed your true feelings as Lord Greyjoy rambled on about the types of wood his ships were built from.

You wished you could steal one of his ships and sail far away from him.

You took another sip of your wine and withheld your sigh as the man, oblivious to your impatience, began speaking of sails and the type of material used to create them.

You wondered how long you would have to suffer through this before you could escape to the library.

The quiet refuge of books was your favorite place in the Red Keep. The fact that your phantom often visited you there only played a small part in why you loved it so.

“Lord Lannister!” you said in surprise as he approached you and the dreadfully dull Lord sitting on the bench next to you.

“Hello, my lady,” he said kindly and nodded to Lord Greyjoy.

“I was wondering if I could perhaps steal your attentions for a short while,” the handsome man said.

“Of course!” you said all too excitedly.

He smirked.

“I am sorry, Lord Greyjoy,” you said, your tone full of sincerity that you didn’t feel.

“It is alright, I shall have to finish telling you about the wonders of my ships another time,” he said kindly.

“Absolutely,” you agreed and took Lord Lannister’s hand.

He led you down the path through the gardens and once you were certain you were no longer in hearing distance you looked up at him.

At the twinkle of amusement you saw in his eye, you both began to laugh.

“That man is such a bore,” he said and you giggled once more in agreement.

“I hope it is alright that I came to rescue you from his clutches,” he said dramatically and teasingly.

“It is more than alright,” you said with a smile.

“My hero,” you teased and he smirked once again.

You had a surprisingly pleasant conversation with Lord Lannister as he walked you through the gardens and eventually deposited you in the library.

He was very kind, if a bit arrogant, but you found that you did not mind his company and he respected you as a person which was much more than many of them men vying for your hand could offer.

Unfortunately your afternoon did not get better as you anticipated, for you never heard the sound of your ghost’s voice as you read quietly in your secluded corner of the library.

He did not visit you that night either.

You tossed and turned and struggled to sleep without the comfort of his gentle voice.

When sleep eventually took you, you dreamt of an angel with a halo of white hair who beckoned you to follow him into darkness.

———————-

The next day Lord Lannister invited you to dine with him, which you accepted.

You tried to be realistic. Your yearning for a man you were not sure even existed would not help you in this life.

Your father would marry you to someone soon and at least the man before you was relatively kind and not positively tedious to spend time with.

You even managed to hold yourself back from rolling your eyes at the arrogant statements he made from time to time so as to not bruise his ego.

He was kind enough and you were prepared to settle, so when he moved to kiss you, you allowed him.

It was a short, proper kiss and did not arouse any sort of feelings within you.

But you smiled at him and thanked him for walking you to your rooms before you found solace within them.

You sighed as the door shut behind you and you were once again alone.

Your favorite voice whispered your name and the hairs on the back of your neck prickled.

You were not alone.

“You are back,” you said breathlessly.

“I did not leave,” he said, his voice hard.

“I… you did not speak to me last night,” you said.

“You betrayed me,” he said and anger colored his tone.

“No, I-“ you protested but were cut off by him.

“No? What do you call it when you smile and bat your pretty eyelashes at a man? What do you call it when you allow another man to kiss you?”

His voice was low and dangerous, full of anger. It should have frightened you but instead you felt indignant.

“It is not as if you kiss me! I do not even know if you are real or a figment of my imagination!”

“Do I not feel real enough to you when you touch yourself to the sound of my voice?” he growled out.

You gasped in shock.

“Do not bother pretending, my sweet. You are not as subtle as you think you are,” he said.

Tears of embarrassment pricked your eyes.

“I am real, pretty girl. Do you not remember how all the suitors you despised seemed to suddenly disappear?”

“That was you?” you asked in surprise.

You sat heavily down at the end of your bed.

“Of course, I protect what is mine. You are mine, are you not?”

“Yes,” you breathed out, spellbound.

“Good girl. You shall have your proof of my existence soon enough, but you must be patient. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes, yes, absolutely,” you said hurriedly, excitedly.

You could hear the smile in his voice as he said, “Wonderful.”

You breathed a sigh of relief that you were no longer the object of his temper, and instead back in his good graces.

As you fell asleep that night you pondered on what he revealed to you in that conversation. You were giddy with excitement at the prospect of getting proof of your silent protector.

———————-

“I wish to tell you something,” you said to Lord Lannister as he sat with you in the castle gardens.

“Do tell,” he said and his eyes danced with amusement.

“When my mother passed away she promised she would send me an angel to care for me and watch over me.”

“What a beautiful promise,” he said, clearly placating you.

You sighed.

“Yes, and her words came true. There is an angel that protects me,” you said.

He raised his eyebrows in disbelief.

“That must be a comforting thought,” he said and patted your hand as if you were a child.

“No, not just a comforting thought, there is a presence that protects me from those that wish me harm,” you said urgently.

“Is that why so many of your suitors have disappeared? I have heard rumors of you being cursed, but I have never been afraid of silly superstitions. I also heard ridiculous gossip of ghosts and recluse princes when I came here, there is no need to put stock in such things.”

You furrowed your brow.

“No, there is-“

“Lord Stark!” the Lannister man exclaimed as he saw his friend across the gardens.

You sighed in frustration as you watched him stand and bound towards Lord Stark and embrace him.

The two began speaking and you were quickly forgotten.

The topic was never raised with him again.

———————-

Your nerves were high as your lady’s maid dressed you for the masquerade ball.

Feasts, parties, and balls were all commonplace during this time of year in which lords and ladies often courted and marriage alliances were made.

Though, a masquerade ball was a first. You were excited. You found the whole idea rather romantic.

“Are you certain about this dress?” you asked Reyna.

“Of course, my lady! You look absolutely beautiful. The men will fall at your feet,” she said with a sweet smile.

You really only cared about impressing your phantom and you hoped against hope that tonight would be the night you finally got the proof he spoke of.

You smoothed the front of your emerald green dress as she brought you the delicate black lace mask.

You pulled it on carefully and Reyna made a few small adjustments before she declared you perfect.

You thanked her and with a grin you made your way towards the great hall.

The moment you entered, you were enchanted. Musicians played ethereally beautiful songs and as you strode through the hall you were fascinated by people’s outfits and masks that bordered on costumes.

Elaborate decorations made the room appear to sparkle and shimmer.

A servant handed you a glass of wine and you sipped on it as you made your way through the bustling crowd.

Soon, however, the dancing began and you smiled happily as you watched the men and women twirl.

A man approached you and asked you to dance, you grinned as you accepted, and quickly determined him to be Lord Greyjoy.

Though he was not your favorite lord, the music was quick paced, as were your steps and you were happy to join the merriment, no matter the company. It was not as if he could speak much to you anyhow as the dance was quick paced and required a switching of partners frequently.

Man after man danced with you and your smile was as wide as the stretch of the sea.

You felt a prickle on the back of your neck, like a heavy gaze was upon you, but as you looked around you could see nothing but strangers in masks.

At the end of the last fast song you were spun by Lord Lannister and another man caught you.

The crowd clapped as the song ended and as you caught your breath you looked up at the man who held you.

You did not recognize the face of the handsome stranger who smirked down at you, so why was there something about him that felt so achingly familiar?

He wore all black, with the intricate embellishments on the cloth a dark green, the exact shade as your dress.

His hair, a shocking silvery white color, was straight and pulled half back as it cascaded down his back and across his chest. It was much longer than most men keep their hair, and it was beautiful.

The left half of his face was completely covered with an intimidating black mask that appeared to have a sapphire within it rather than a hole for the eye to see through.

The right side of his face was bare and you marveled at the handsomeness of the sharp planes of his nose, cheekbones, jaw, and chin.

His visible eye was a startling yet otherworldly gorgeous violet color.

His smirking lips were plush and naturally curved upwards.

You had never seen such unique beauty in a man.

You were certain your expression was wonderstruck as you stared up at him.

The next song began, a much slower melody, and he held you close to his warm body as he swayed you both to the beat of it.

“I do not believe we have met,” you said primly as you attempted to muster up your wits.

He smiled at you before he spun you.

He caught you and pressed your back to his front. As he leaned down, his hair fell across your shoulder and his lips grazed your ear.

You shivered in response as your eyes fluttered closed.

His large hands spanned much of your waist and you covered his hands with your own, wishing to keep him close.

“Are you certain of that?” he whispered in your ear.

Your spine went rod straight, the hairs on the back of your neck stood, and you sucked in a gasping breath as you recognized the voice of the man that held you.

He chuckled darkly, that laugh that you often heard in your dreams.

“I am not certain of much of anything anymore,” you breathed out.

“Not even of my promises?” he teased as one hand moved further down your waist and the other up high enough that his thumb grazed the bottom of your breasts.

Your breath hitched even as your eyes drifted closed once more and your head fell back against his shoulder.

“You are the only thing I believe in anymore,” you murmured.

“Hm,” he hummed in satisfaction at your words.

One hand gripped your waist and the other slipped up your arm, across your collar bones to rest gently around your throat, as if his hand were another necklace to adorn you.

“You are most beautiful this night, my sweet,” he purred.

You breathed in his warm masculine scent and wished to stay in his arms forever.

He spun you back around to face him and he caught you with hands around the small of your waist and your hands found their place on his chest.

“You…you are much more handsome than all my wildest dreams. Why would you hide this face from me?”

You could not look away from his gaze, it was as if he had a power to trap you with him, though you would never desire to escape him.

You placed your hand on his cheek and did not miss the way it made him suck in a breath, as if he were just as affected by you as you were by him.

You did not know how many songs had passed since you were in his arms, but you never wanted the music to end for fear of no longer being pressed against him.

The entire room melted away and there was only you and your phantom made flesh as he danced with you to music of your own making.

“There are things you do not know of, that I have made efforts to protect you from,” he answered you finally.

You furrowed your brow in confusion and as you looked away, you realized it was the first time you had looked away from his face since he took you into his arms.

You hadn’t realized that multiple songs had come and go and still he held you. You hadn’t realized that most of the eyes in the room were on you, curiously watching you and the mysterious man.

“I have proof now of your existence. Tell me everything, or do you not wish to make me yours?” you asked as you looked back at him.

He pursed his lips as he stared deep into your soul.

“Of course I wish to make you mine,” he breathed out.

He sounded just as entranced by you as you were with him.

You reached up and softly grazed your fingers against his sharp cheekbone.

“Then show me all of you, my phantom,” you whispered as your fingers curled around the edge of his mask.

So enraptured by your touch and your presence it took him a moment longer than it should have to react and you had nearly removed the mask from his face and saw a flash of a jagged scar before he yanked himself back from you.

He pulled the mask from your hand and covered the side of his face once again as he stepped back, his chest heaving with desperate breaths.

You stumbled backwards from the momentum of his sudden movements, and strong hands from behind caught you and with a glance back you realized it was Lord Lannister.

Your breathing was also heavy as you turned back and gazed upon the object of your affections in shock.

Regret flashed in his eye, but he turned and quicker than you could think of anything to say, he disappeared into the large crowd and was soon gone.

He was gone as quickly as he appeared and your eyes stung at the near rejection.

“Are you alright?” Lord Lannister asked you and you realized his hands were still around your shoulders where he had caught you.

“Yes, quite,” you said and the shakiness in your voice did nothing to assure either of you of the statement’s truthfulness.

As your attention once again found the room around you, you then heard the hisses of angry whispers of the people around you.

“Monster.”

“Did you see that horrid scar?”

“Why would she let him touch her?”

“Disgusting.”

“His eye….”

“Recluse prince.”

“Aemond Targaryen,” one man said and you whipped your head around to him.

“What did you say?” you demanded.

“My lady, that must have been Aemond Targaryen, the recluse prince. Only the gods know what would have caused him to slither out from his hiding place,” the old man said worriedly.

You huffed and turned to leave.

“Perhaps I should accompany you to your room to ensure you arrive there safely,” Lord Lannister offered.

You nodded absentmindedly and took his proffered arm.

As you exited the hall you let out a sigh of relief to be away from such a crowd of hateful and discontented Lords and Ladies.

“I fear you put yourself in danger by dancing with such a man, my lady,” Lord Lannister finally said after he gave you several moments of quiet to collect yourself.

“He meant me no harm,” you said softly.

“You know nothing of his intentions,” the man said.

Finally you reached your door.

“Thank you, Lord Lannister, I appreciate your help and concern,” you said in an attempt to dismiss him.

He nodded, and he clearly understood your message.

“Goodnight, my lady,” he said.

“Goodnight, my lord,” you replied and turned and walked into your room.

You shut the door securely behind you before you slid to the floor and released the tears you had been holding back.

You could no longer withhold the torrent of mixed emotions you felt that so overwhelmed you.

You heard nothing from your ghost that night and as you fell into a fitful sleep, nightmares plagued you.

You dreamt of a demon that chased you and all you could see of it were two sapphire colored eyes that glowed in the depth of darkness you were lost in.

———————-

Your phantom did not find you for the next two days and despite being surrounded by people often, most frequently suitors who wished to woo you, you found yourself incredibly lonely.

Each night when you entered your room you called out for him but only silence greeted you.

By the third day you resolved yourself to try and move on. It was easier said than done.

Now that you had actually met the man that belonged to the voice you idolized, it was much harder to prevent yourself from loving him.

It was as if he was in your head, had burrowed himself in your heart, captured your soul and held it in the palm of his hands.

How were you supposed to just let go?

You pondered on all these things as you attempted to relax in the bath in your chambers.

Your father was pressuring you to make a decision soon. You were lucky that he even allowed you a say in who you would marry, though you knew he was partial to Lord Lannister. Thankfully, he agreed with your assessment that Lord Greyjoy was an absolute bore.

He was not present at the masquerade when you danced with your phantom, but he had surely heard the gossip by now.

It would not bode well for you.

You wished to hear your ghost’s voice so desperately you feared you were hallucinating the sound.

But there it was again, your name, said with such gentleness and care.

“Are you really there?” you asked hopefully.

“Yes, my sweet,” he said after a moment too long of silence.

You sighed in relief.

“I have missed you,” you said.

“Truthfully?” he asked and there was vulnerability in his voice.

“Of course,” you said passionately.

He did not reply and you grew concerned he did not believe you.

You were suddenly grateful for the suds and bubbles in the bathtub for fear he could see you. It was something you had never been self conscious about before, but now that you had seen the handsome man himself and knew he was real, you were more worried about what he had seen.

Even still, you said, “Please do not hide from me any longer, I wish to see you when you speak to me.”

“Why would you wish to see a monster?” he asked harshly.

Your eyes prickled with tears at his pain.

“I do not believe people’s words that you are a monster. You, who has protected me at every turn, are a good man,” you said gently.

The oversized portrait beside your bed creaked and opened as if it were a door.

You gasped as your phantom stood in the darkened entryway.

A mask still adorned half his face, though this time it was white and interestingly there was still a sapphire embedded in it where his eye should be.

You sunk lower into the bath and gripped its edges as you stared back at him.

“You cannot believe that about a creature of such darkness,” he said.

“I do. I rather like the dark,” you said and a small smirk showed on his beautiful lips.

“Come closer,” you said as you reached your hand out to him.

He walked slowly over to you and knelt next to the bathtub.

You placed your hand gently on the side of his face and his eye fluttered closed while he took a shaky breath.

“Your name,” you said, your voice soft and tentative. “Is it Aemond as some have speculated?”

He made a pleased sound low in his throat as he nuzzled his face into your hand.

He ran his nose across your palm and the veins at your wrist.

Your heartbeat spiked.

“You have no idea how long I have yearned to hear my name fall from your perfect lips, my sweet,” he murmured.

Your breathing was heavy as you looked at your phantom, your angel, your Aemond.

“Aemond, I apologize for attempting to unmask you in front of a room full of people. Truthfully, I forgot we were not the only two people in the world,” you said gently as your fingers traced his cheek and lips and soaked in the warmth of his skin.

“Hm,” he hummed in pleasure.

“Will you bare yourself to me now?” you asked.

You wanted to add that it was only fair as you were currently mostly bare in front of him.

Though the bath was a milky color from the soaps and scents, and suds still covered the surface, you were certain his all knowing eye could see much of your glistening wet skin.

His eye blinked open and he looked at you, his gaze raw and full of emotion.

The sound of knuckles rapping at your door broke your focus from him.

“My lady?” your lady’s maid called out.

You looked across the room to your door.

He quickly stood and disappeared behind the portrait door once again without another word, as if he truly were a ghost.

You sighed in frustration before you called out, “Yes? Come in.”

“My lady, I forgot to bring you your fresh bed sheets, I am so sorry! I will only be a moment,” she said as she rushed to your bed.

“It is quite alright, Reyna,” you reassured as her anxieties often became too high.

She smiled at you and quickly started her task.

You sunk lower into the now cold bath and cursed your rotten luck.

———————-

Your father ran out of patience and betrothed you to Lord Lannister.

You sat at the celebratory feast and tried not to look too sullen.

When the queen congratulated you, you flinched slightly, now that you knew it was her son you were so desperately in love with you felt even more guilty.

You worried the news would break him.

Even still, you did your best to be graceful and poised as many people offered you their excitement on your happy news.

You didn’t mind Lord Lannister, truthfully, but he did not bewitch your very soul as Aemond Targaryen did.

There was a commotion that caught your attention, a fire had started in the opposite end of the grand hall.

You gasped and watched as the men rushed to put it out.

A hand grasped your wrist and began to tug you backwards.

Your eyes widened in surprise as your phantom pulled you into the nearby darkened hallway.

A mask still covered half his face and his expression was hard.

He pressed your back against the cold stone wall with the weight of his body against yours.

Your breath sped and your heartbeat spiked.

Not from fear, no, from the feel of the long planes of his warm body against yours.

He placed a hand against the wall on either side of your head and caged you in.

“Do you wish to marry him?” he asked.

“No,” you breathed out, your focus again on his lips as he spoke.

He leaned down so his lips grazed your ear and asked, “What do you desire?”

You shivered.

“You,” you practically moaned as your eyes closed.

He hauled his body off yours and you whimpered softly at the loss of his warmth.

He smirked.

“Then wait for me, I shall come for you, my sweet. I promise,” he said and you quickly nodded in agreement.

He turned his head to look back down the hallway at the great hall.

His hair swished as he moved and you longed to run your fingers through the white silken strands.

“They have most likely put out the fire by now. Go before you are missed,” he said.

“Alright,” you said, and before you tore yourself away from him you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

He hummed in pleasure and you attempted to memorize the sound, beautiful as it was, just like everything about him.

When you reentered the great hall, the chaos was settling and no one had noticed your brief absence, not even your betrothed.

———————-

Most afternoons you could be found in your favorite secluded corner of the library.

Unfortunately, your betrothed knew that and often interrupted your reading.

Today however, you were blissfully alone as you reread your favorite book.

Sunlight filtered through the nearby window and bathed you and your novel in a warm glow.

A cup of tea and a little snack were long forgotten as the plot enraptured you and you curled up into a plush armchair.

A whisper of your name slid through the contented air and alerted you to the presence of another.

“Aemond?” you whispered back.

“Come with me,” he crooned.

You turned and saw him. He had revealed another secret hallway, this time hidden by a bookshelf.

His beauty was otherworldly and you felt as if you were in a trance as you set your book down, stood, and walked towards him.

You took his hand and allowed him to lead you into the dark and watched as he shut the bookshelf door behind you.

He lifted a torch off the stone wall and held it before the both of you, though you suspected it was only for your benefit.

“Where are we going?” you asked.

The thought occurred to you that you should have asked before you followed him, but logic was never your strong suit when it came to decisions about your phantom.

You could never resist his pull.

“To show you more of myself,” he said.

Your heart skipped a beat.

You walked through winding corridors until he stopped at another portrait-door. Though, this time your view of it was from the inside.

He opened it, stepped down himself, and then with hands on your waist, helped you navigate the large step down.

Though, he stood so close that your body practically slid down the length of his as you did so.

With your hands on his strong shoulders you stared at him.

His gaze flickered down to your lips and for a moment, an excruciating wonderful moment, you thought he might kiss you.

But he released you and took a step back, his breaths as rapid as your own.

With him not right in front of you, you could see the room you stood in.

It was dark, the dark curtains drawn completely so as to not allow any light within.

Candelabras adorned the furniture to offer the light your eyes so desperately needed.

It was also clearly the room of a prince, grand and ornately decorated.

Black and emerald green silk covered the large canopy bed.

The other decorations matched his chosen colors.

You slipped from his hands and walked around the room, your fingers traced the surfaces as you took it all in.

It was all so Aemond. But there were pieces of you as well.

A vase full of your favorite flowers. Stacks of your favorite novels were on both his bedside table and his desk. They were mixed with books you did not recognize, ones that must be his favorites.

Crumpled papers took up space on the desk, with your name scrawled at the top of the one on a stack of blank papers, as if he had been trying to write you a letter.

There was an easel with paint supplies in front of the window, finished paintings leaned against the wall, turned around so you could not see them.

The painting drying on the easel, however, was of you. You gasped softly.

It was a romantic view of you in the bath as you had been the other night, and there was such love and tenderness in your face as you looked at the viewer of the portrait, the painter of the portrait, truthfully.

There was a halo of light around your body, every stretch of your skin that was visible had a brightness about it, the more intimate parts of your body covered by the water in the bath.

Tears pricked at your eyes as you realized this is how he viewed you. An angel, just the same as you perceived him.

He was your angel of darkness and you were his angel of light.

“Oh Aemond,” you breathed out.

If you were a betting woman, you would bet that many of the completed paintings you could not see were of you as well.

You knew the reality of what you saw, this was not just love, it was obsession.

Logically, you should be scared, but you could not bring yourself to be anything but flattered.

There was a mirror in the corner, but it was covered by black cloth as if he did not wish to see himself, your heart cracked at the thought.

He had been watching you warily as you explored his space and learned more about him.

“I want you to know the reality of what you would be getting into if you choose me, my sweet. A life of darkness with someone most consider a monster,” he said as he leaned against the wall and looked down at the floor.

You strode towards him and placed a hand on his cheek and led him to look at you.

“That is your version of reality? In my reality I see a kindhearted man who cares for me deeply and is offering me a life of affection. I do not care for others' opinions and would like to help you heal from the hurt they have inflicted,” you said quietly and tenderly.

He breathed out in surprise and brought you closer, so you were pressed against him.

“You say such kind words but you have not seen all of me, you do not know why others fear me. There is more darkness to me than you know,” he said lowly, but still he moved his face closer and nudged his nose against yours.

“Then show me,” you begged once again, “and let me accept you completely.”

His lips were so close to yours that you could almost feel them.

You ached for him, had ached for him for so long, that you lost yourself, your self control, and leaned up to brush your lips against his.

But, he pulled back right before your lips were able to meet.

You let out a shuddering breath, same as he did as he pulled his face back enough to look at you.

He intertwined his fingers with yours and lifted your hand to the mask he wore.

With a slight nod he gave you permission to remove it from his face but still said, “Are you certain? This would bring you past the point of no return.”

“I have never been more certain of anything in my life,” you said fervently as you stared at him with your heart in your throat.

He swallowed and dropped his hand from yours to let you finally take off the mask.

You gently curled your fingers around the edges and his eye fluttered closed, another indication of his nervousness, as if he could not handle seeing your expression once you saw him.

You slowly pulled it off and revealed the other half of his face.

A long jagged scar stretched from above his eye down across his cheek.

Instead of a left eye, there was a sapphire in place of where his eye should be.

You realized you were mistaken before when you thought that the mask held the sapphire, it was in fact a replacement to the eye that was missing.

Though the scar marred his skin, it did not take away from his handsomeness. You could understand how the scar and sapphire eye could intimidate others, but you could not understand how anyone could describe him as a monster.

“Beautiful,” you murmured as you cupped his cheek and ran your thumb across the scar.

His eye fluttered open and as he looked at you, his perfect lips parted in shock. You knew he felt that the disfigurement was a reflection of his soul and expected rejection. Though he had subjected himself to the potential rejection anyway, because of his feelings for you.

“You cannot mean that,” he said and the words broke your heart.

You kissed his cheek, his scar, right below the sapphire eye and he gasped softly.

“My phantom, my protector, my Aemond,” you said as you trailed your lips across his cheek, across the length of the scar.

“I absolutely mean it,” you said passionately and he groaned as he, at long last, pressed his lips to yours.

His plush lips were soft as he pressed them firmly against yours.

He made a low pleased hum as your lips moved against his and you tangled your fingers in his hair.

It was not the sort of kiss that sparked a fiery passion, no, it was slower moving than that, deeper. The kind of kiss that changed the both of you intricately, completely, eternally.

The kiss molted the love within you and him like lava and fuzed your souls together.

When you pulled back and ended the kiss he said, “I love you, completely, my angel of light.”

“And I love you, darkness and all,” you replied and kissed him once more.

———————-

The day of your wedding to Lord Lannister had arrived and you were a bundle of nerves.

Aemond had sworn to you that you would not have to go through with this wedding. He assured you that he would make you his and his alone.

You believed him, you just did not realize that he would wait until the last minute to do so.

Your lady’s maid Reyna cinched up your wedding gown as you stared at yourself in the mirror.

Your expression was sullen and you felt as if you were being readied for your funeral.

Aemond would intervene as he promised, right?

You had tried to talk to your father, to make him understand where your feelings lay, what your heart desired, but he refused to listen.

“You look beautiful, my lady,” Reyna said as she finished prepping you and stepped back to view her work.

“Thank you,” you said quietly.

“What is wrong?” she asked as she took your hands.

You shook your head and refused to let your eyes fill with tears.

You must believe in your phantom’s promise, he had protected you at every turn and you had to believe him that he would do so now.

“Lord Lannister seems kind,” Reyna said gently.

You nodded.

“Yes. Yes he does,” you agreed as you took a deep breath to calm your nerves.

Your father arrived and escorted you to the sept.

The sept was grand as always, and as it was sunset, lit completely with hundreds of candles.

A large crowd of lords and ladies filled the room and watched you as you walked towards a future of shackles.

Your heart plummeted as you saw Lord Lannister there waiting for you.

He smiled at you as your father walked you towards him, escorted you towards a loveless life. You could not force yourself to smile back. Your breath was short and it felt as if there was a weight on your chest. Your legs shook as you walked and finally you stood before Lord Lannister and the septon.

The Septon cleared his throat and the crowd’s murmurs and whispers hushed and it was suddenly all too quiet.

You could hear the pounding of your own heart.

The septon opened his mouth to speak, to begin the ceremony, when another booming voice filled the sept.

“I object to this marriage. This woman is spoken for. She belongs to me,” the voice of your ghost echoed through the room, through your very soul.

You gasped in relief.

The sept doors blew open by an unexpected and terrifying gust of wind that blew out all the candles and thrust the grand room into darkness.

There were gasps of horror and shock as well as screams in fear.

You grinned.

“This wedding is over,” the voice announced and you whipped your head around as you realized where the origin of the sound was.

The phantom of the Red Keep stood behind the Septon.

A fire suddenly lit behind him, illuminating him, and another round of gasps and screams began.

Aemond stood, presence intense and intimidating, dressed all in black. He wore nothing to cover his scar and sapphire eye.

Your body moved of its own accord and you managed to take one step towards him, when an arm gripped you around your waist and hauled you backwards.

Lord Lannister shoved you behind him and pulled out his sword.

He pointed it at Aemond. You lurched forward, but he held you back with his arm.

Aemond quickly pulled out his own sword.

The septon scrambled away.

Guards began to stream into the sept, but the fire spread, as if controlled, and circled around the three of you, and kept everyone away.

“You have no claim on this woman! She is my betrothed!” Lord Lannister yelled.

Aemond smirked, a devilish sort of smile.

“That is certainly not true, is it, my sweet? I have a strong claim on you, do I not?” Aemond asked you as he leaned to the side to meet your eyes around his enemy’s body.

“Yes,” you breathed out, entranced by his presence.

Lord Lannister whipped his head around to look at you in shock.

“He is a monster. Let me save you from him. I am your chosen hero, remember?” he said fervently.

You shook your head.

“He is my protector, I tried to tell you this before. My heart belongs to him,” you replied.

“No,” he said angrily and shook his head.

“No,” he repeated himself, “you will not whore yourself out to this vile demon. You are my betrothed.”

He attacked your love. You gasped as they crossed swords and the sound of clanging steel echoed.

You stepped back, as close as you could get to the edge of the circle of fire without burning yourself, and did not know what to do.

Others watched the fight through the fire, helpless to assist, and did nothing but spectate.

The men fought and it was clear that despite Aemond’s missing eye, he was the superior skilled swordfighter.

You felt powerless to help. The fight did not last long, for Aemond soon sliced a shallow cut across Lord Lannister’s chest and then disarmed him.

He held the tip of his sword to his opponent’s throat as he breathed heavily and gritted his teeth. Hate gleamed in his one good eye and you knew your betrothed represented all the hate and suffering Aemond had endured since his eye was so savagely taken.

“Stop,” you gasped.

He turned his head to meet your gaze and the look in his eye softened.

“You do not have to kill him,” you said, “just take me. Let us be together. Let us leave this place behind.”

He pursed his lips, a war fought inside his mind, before he nodded and removed his sword from Lord Lannister’s throat even as he kicked the other sword away so it would be completely out of reach.

You ran to him and threw yourself in his arms.

He kept his sword pointed at your former betrothed, but hugged you back with his other arm.

Lord Lannister held up his hands and nodded, conceding and admitting his defeat.

Aemond turned his head and pressed a kiss to your temple.

“I want it to be known here and now that this woman did choose me willingly. Though I know you will indeed ignore my words, there need be no monster hunt, she and I wish to leave peacefully,” Aemond announced.

The crowd stared in shock as you pulled his face down for a passionate kiss.

Your love raged like the fire that surrounded you.

He was yours and you were his.

“Take me,” you begged him as your lips broke apart.

The last thing you saw was the uptilt of his lips into a smirk before the room was plunged into darkness and then there was only the sensation of falling.

You splashed into deep water and strong hands pulled you up.

“We must hurry,” your lover said as he helped you swim.

You looked up and as the ceiling closed above you, you could see that the entire sept seemed to have lit up in flames once more.

He led you to the edge of the canal and hauled you up out of the water.

He lit a torch he found on the wall and you could finally see.

“It will take them some time to put out the fire, but they will follow us as soon as they can,” Aemond said to you in a hushed and hurried tone as he helped you step into a small boat that floated upon the water. He handed you the torch and you held it as you took your seat and settled.

He soon followed and took the oars and rowed as quickly and powerfully as he could, his strength evident in the action.

He navigated the canals effectively and knew which turns to take in the winding and confusing darkness.

You stared at him as he did so and admired your phantom in the flickering light.

His hair was wet, his lips set in a hard and determined line, and the sapphire glimmered and gleamed.

You loved him, you wanted him, you were joyously happy he had saved you from a life you despised.

You smiled.

His gaze flickered to yours and he raised an eyebrow at you.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I love you,” you said quietly but strongly.

He smiled. A real, full smile, not a smirk or a half smile, a real full smile in which his lips stretched and you could see his teeth.

“And I love you, my sweet,” he eventually replied, the moment heavy with emotion.

“Thank you, for protecting me, my guardian angel,” you whispered.

He shook his head.

“Thank me when we are actually safe in our destination,” he said.

“Where is our destination?” you asked. You did not truly care about the answer, anywhere safe with him was perfect to you.

“There is an estate in the countryside owned by the Hightowers, my mother’s family, that has been gifted to us by my mother. Some sort of recompense for all I have endured from my father’s family, I suppose. We shall have to pretend to be Hightowers and it will be a simpler life than you are used to in King’s Landing, but it will be safe and I will protect you. I hope you find that suitable,” he said softly.

“Of course,” you said, “a life with you is all I desire.”

He smiled once more and it was your favorite sight in all the world.

“Good, I have arranged for a septon to be waiting there to wed us. If all goes well it will only be a few days' journey and then you will well and truly be my wife.”

You grinned and placed your hand on his knee as he continued to row. It took all your self control not to throw yourself into his arms and kiss him until neither of you could breathe anymore.

“I could not imagine anything more perfect, my love,” you replied.

The canals eventually deposited the two of you into the entrance of a river on the outskirts of the city.

Aemond climbed out of the boat and quickly helped you do the same.

Thankful for the cover of darkness, he snuck you to a stable where two horses awaited you both.

He pulled clothes out of the packed saddle bags and handed you a bundle.

“Can you help me?” you asked as you turned your back to him.

You heard a shuddering breath.

“Of course,” he said and began to unlace your wedding dress. He slowly pulled at the laces, and his fingers brushed your skin as he did so. You shivered, and you were not certain if it was from the cold air or desire for the ghost that stood behind you.

You slipped out of it and turned back to face him.

His gaze was dark and intense once again.

Your heartbeat stuttered.

Then you heard distant shouting, you were still being pursued.

“We must hurry,” he urged.

You swallowed your disappointment and nodded even as you began to remove the rest of your clothes.

He walked to the other side of the horses, to hide you from his view, and allowed you to finish changing.

You pulled on the new clothes, and realized he had picked out peasant clothes a man would wear, most likely to make you both as inconspicuous as possible.

You pulled on the fresh underclothes, the trousers and boots, and then the loose white shirt.

He rounded the horses, already fully changed with an eyepatch over his sapphire eye.

Your breath caught as he knelt before you and began to tie the laces of your boots.

You bit your lip as you watched him.

His nimble fingers moved quickly as he laced both shoes then stood to his full height before you.

He then laced up the front of your shirt, to hide your breasts, and his hands grazed them as he did so.

Your breathing was heavy as you watched him.

He nodded in satisfaction with his work then pulled two cloaks out of the saddle bags as well.

He pulled his cloak on and then helped you with yours.

Your hands caught his and you could not help yourself.

“Kiss me,” you breathed out.

He huffed in amusement before he pulled you in for a brief but firm kiss.

“Aemond, please,” you begged as he pulled back.

He gripped your waist and rested his forehead against yours.

“I will make you mine and give you everything you desire, my love,” he promised, “but you must exercise patience. We need to hurry, our lives are still at stake.”

You sighed and nodded.

He pulled your hood over your head and then tied his hair back and did the same.

With strong hands on your waist he helped you climb atop your horse and then mounted his own.

With the click of his tongue, he urged his horse forward and you followed his lead.

Soon, both your horses were galloping and you left the horror of King’s Landing far behind.

You journeyed into the darkness, but felt assured that there was light at the end of your travels for your phantom was there with you, and you would be together, forever, as you both desired, as was right.

You loved the man, the ghost, the so-called monster beside you. You loved your protector, the man who had maimed and killed for you, who guided you through the deepest darkness.

He was your angel, your salvation, the rest of your life.

He was yours and you were his, forever.

All was finally right in the world.

#aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen x fem!reader

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venusandsaturnsrings · 10 months

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★彡 confetti!

synopsis: it's his birthday! how will you spend the day together? a combination of sweet moments and depraved behaviour, naturally.

contains: 2.4k words of nonsense, fem/afab reader, implied chubby reader, p in v, and mushy romance.

between the plush blankets of your shared bed, lay you and your most beloved boyfriend. sunlight filtered through the windows to gently rest on the features of his face. ginger hair glowing, nose highlighted, and scars visible, you thought he looks most handsome in these vulnerable moments. should the world come collapsing at this exact second you don't think you'd mind with his beautiful face your last sight. his breathing was still slow and drool slipped past the corner of his mouth. you smiled and placed a feather light kiss to his nose before carefully removing yourself from the bed. Ajax is a light sleeper, to put it gently, but you've become well versed in the act of getting up without disturbing him; this came in handy for days like this. you shuffled to the bathroom to wash your face before tiptoeing to the kitchen.

with your best attempt at working in silence, you got to the task of making a birthday breakfast. you had taken the liberty to do some preparations the evening before, shooing Ajax out of the kitchen. with a handful of jams imported from Snezhnaya and recipes borrowed from his mother, you successfully got together a more than satisfactory meal. rye bread, cheeses, raspberry jam, and the star of the show, fresh plushki. the plushki were the most difficult part but the adorable heart shape of the pastries had you swooning already. with the kitchen smelling firmly of cinnamon and fruit, you carefully made your way back to the shared bedroom to rouse your still sleeping boyfriend.

his face was just as beautiful as when you first woke. kneeling on the bed, you peppered kisses all over his cheeks and chest until he groaned and let out a gruff chuckle. eyes finally cracking open, he gave you a lazy smile as he drew you in for a proper morning kiss. your hands brushed some stray orange tufts from his face to softly smooth over his skin with tenderness that could rival that of your own heart.

"good morning, 'Jax. happy birthday," you mumbled out with lips still brushing against his. he smiled wider, if even possible, and kissed you again.

"thanks, doll. if my nose doesn't mistake me, i smell something delicious coming from downstairs." cheeky as always but also starving, you giggled while humming in confirmation. the lighthearted compliment had you swooning once more. if you weren't already head over heels for him, you would be now. something about his vulnerably playful demeanor that only you and his family got to see had your stomach doing flips. you are just as special to him as he to you.

tugging him gently out of bed you lost count of the kisses shared already this morning. his lips never seemed to be able to leave yours for longer than a couple seconds but you certainly didn't mind. part of any good birthday was laying on the affection thick and syrupy. hand in hand, you took him down to the dining area adjacent to the kitchen where all of the treats were already lain out and his arms threaded around your waist with a sigh. Ajax nuzzles his head into your neck appreciatively before sitting down in the chair across from yours, only after pulling out the one for you to sit on, and surveyed the spread. it didn't take long for him to scarf down what you had prepared moaning over the taste of everything in his mouth happily. with your hand on one of your palms you explained the days agenda: enjoying this brunch, meandering the city, having dinner at Liuli Pavilion, and coming home to relax for the evening. he nodded along agreeably to everything, happy to release the reins for a day.

the day went smoothly. while out in the streets, you made sure to pay for all of the little trinkets picked up though you couldn't stop him from beating you to paying for dinner. in part you were upset considering it was his birthday but you also knew paying would leave you out of money for the next month at the very least. over the array of dishes picked out, you slid him a small box; his present. Ajax flushed a little bit, still unused to being so spoiled for once but he gently pulled the ribbon off of the quaint box to remove the lid and see just what you had gotten him. if there's one thing you learned while being together with the harbinger, its that he'd notoriously hard to shop for. every question would be met with some variation of him already having everything he could want or to not worry about a gift since you were enough but you couldn't possibly let his birthday pass without at least one gift. inside the box lay a small locket, one adorned with small jewels of archaic stone on the outside and upon opening it revealed two pictures on each side. on the left, a photo taken on your very first date together. on the right, a picture of the both of you surrounded by his family on the previous Christmas you had gone back to visit them. the locket was small enough that it could fit under his shirt no problem so he could keep a little piece of you and his family with him everywhere he went. Ajax practically leapt across the table to plant kisses all over your face, eyes watering up slightly though he excused it as simply being due to the spiciness of the food. he’s never been a good liar when it comes to you but you pretend to believe him anyways for the sake of his pride.

if you asked Ajax, he'd tell you every birthday was his best. celebrations and praise usually went straight to his head but there was always something more tender about birthdays or international holidays. he'd take anything he could get in terms of affection from you and his family, lord knows he needs it, but he was never greedy. Ajax let you lathe it on at your own pace and relished in the gradual nature of it all. the lead up was always his favourite when it came to violence or work so it only made sense he enjoyed it the same in relationships but you weren't going to oppose the slow moments in an otherwise turbulent life.

as the sun rested on the west horizon, you gently laced your fingers with his to slide off the glove on his own. with practiced movements you played gently with the long appendages. up, down, and around in circles, you knew his hands got no breaks regardless of the task at hand. a gentle peck graced your temple at the comforting actions so you lifted the hand to place a kiss on each knuckle while continuing to smooth over the calloused skin. with languid motions you soon found yourselfs back at the small house you both called 'home' though it felt temporary. Ajax always promised that one day you'd move back to Snezhnaya with him and he'd have a huge mansion built to live out your days in. typically dramatic of him, you'd laugh along aware of the sliver of truth his words held. perhaps not a mansion, that isn't quite your speed, but a real home. somewhere you could both come to and really feel safe. you savoured his silly promises for what they were, promises, regardless of the over-the-top nature. a home with him always sounded nice. he only moved his hand from yours to retrieve the keys from his pocket to open the front door.

once closed and locked, his arms wrapped around your midsection with a hum. you chuckled lightly as you tilted his head towards yours to admire the soft smile adorning his features. 'bright' is how you'd describe him to anyone in this moment. morbid but, should you be confronted with a nearly gone victim of his debt collection and they asked how you could possibly love someone like him, you'd tell them he's bright. with hair like the sun, eyes like the moon, and freckles like the stars, he was your whole universe packed tightly into the body of a young man. his face softens in your presence in a way that it doesn't for anyone else, even his family. you're well aware there's still some tension between him and his parents but he doesn't melt like that even for his younger siblings. he's fondue in your hands and even more so as you tug him back to where the day started; the bedroom. his laugh was almost devilish at the realization of what exactly was about to happen but you only laughed with him. your hands barely left him all day so could this truly come as a surprise? besides, it's his birthday after all. the occasion calls for it!

Ajax was never good at keeping his hands to himself and that always shined brightest when he was desperately tugging your clothes off. fingertips moving underneath your shirt to pull it over your head in one clean movement before quickly falling to unzip your skirt and pull it past your hips. his hands lingered on the plush flesh, giving it generous squeezes and mumbling praise of your softness against your lips. saliva stringed between your mouths as he moved down to suck bruises onto the column of your throat, teeth grazing and biting the way he knew would have you keening. your own hands moved to unbutton his gratuitous amount of jackets and shirts with a slight scoff over just how much he was always wearing; the complications annoyed you but not enough to make you truly upset. you fumbled around with his belt long enough that he undid it himself, pulling it free with a quick flick of his hand and throwing it with a sharp clatter on the floor. 'that hardwood is expensive,' you briefly thought but the way he scooped you up to throw you down in the bed trashed all complaints. the air was knocked out of you but no faster than Ajax was on top of you again and tugging at your undergarments. a pretty blue set with ruffles and lace that complimented the curves of your body and matched the shade of his eyes. leaning down, he smiled while pulling the straps of your bra off with his teeth in true Ajax fashion; always a show-off. his boney fingers played with the hem of your panties as you shoved his pants and boxers down to expose the most vulnerable parts of his body which also happened to be the parts you were most eager to see and touch.

"so impatient today, aren't we?" he whispered teasingly though he was just as desperate as you. you hummed softly in agreement, pulling his head back up to you as to bite on his lower lip and slide your tongue into his mouth. Ajax accepted it with a slight groan but made sure to nip your tongue with sharp canines as you pulled back panting. he has always liked to hear you whine and you were never one to deny him such simple pleasures. once parted he took to fully ridding you of the pesky undergarments and throwing them in the general direction as his belt had been before he grabbed the back of your knees and folded you till they touched your ears. you had originally intended on spoiling him tonight but it seemed he was more inclined to be the one taking rather than receiving and you had no qualms with that. he spit sharply into his hand, letting the saliva coat his cock just enough so that the burn would be easier. Ajax has a pretty dick to put it lightly. pale with a ruddy tip, a slight upwards curve, and tight balls though his pelvis was unshaven. the head was always quick to start leaking and that was one of your favourite things for when you got to suck it all away but your thought were soon put to rest as he eased him self inside with a strained groan and a muttered curse. it was always a slight struggle to get him in at first considering his length but once you got used to it the curvature of his dick had you seeing stars. his forehead rested on yours as you panted in time with one another until the pain subsided and he was free to start thrusting eagerly inside of you. in an almost perfect harmony, the pair of you moaned at the first back and forth of his hips. the hair at his base rubbed against your clit just perfectly and you couldn’t help but dig your nails into his well built biceps.

“‘jax… so fuckin’ good to me…” your words were slurred from the incessant thrusts he delivered to the depths of your cervix but he got the point. his lips travelled across your face, neck, and chest to ensure a stream of bruises would be left visible for days to come. with your legs still pushed back, Ajax managed to weasel his unoccupied hand between you both to rub and pinch rapidly at your slightly neglected clit, reviling in the desperate whimpers you gave out. it wasn’t long till his movements turned sloppy and the hand on your soaked cunt moved more desperate; he was close but never one to finish before you. he tilted his hips to press higher and directly hit just where you wanted over and over until you cried and came undone just for him. the right squeezes of your insides had him spilling not long after, head falling with a groan onto your chest and hips stuttering till they stilled. you were the first to come to, threading fingers through his hair and telling him just how good he always is to you. he grabbed the hand off his head and placed kisses to your knuckles much like you did to his earlier in the day and nuzzled his nose to your palm.

“shower time?” he questioned, voice still low as if he could possibly startle you.

“shower time,” you agreed, “happy birthday, handsome. i love you so much, Ajax.” so he kissed you again. and again. and again and again and again until you feared your lips would go numb but with his love warming you, it would never be possible.

#WAHHHH IT HE BIRTHDAY :((#HAPPY BDAY BABYGIRL I LOVE U #tartaglia x reader #childe x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin smut #fem reader #afab reader #chubby reader

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kanmom51 · 11 months

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This needs to stop

I really contemplated if to put these words down, but I am so angry and disappointed and sad at this point that I felt I had to vent.

Disappointed. I think that's the key word for what I am feeling right now.

I understand that people are upset/angry/enraged by the shit that followed JM's release of his first solo album Face. I understand because I am enraged as well.

I have no doubt in my mind that he was wronged.

He succeeded beyond anyone's dreams and probably kind of ruined certain dreams some of these people had of their own.

But to take that anger and to turn it on the one person that supported and supports JM beyond any of us is infuriating to me.

Turning on JK?

Because of what? A shithead called Scooter Braun, who has his own personal agenda and history shows us has zero real interest or care in the actual artists he is pushing?

Do people forget who JK is?

Do they need a reminder course here?

I guess I will have to give them one.

JK is JM's favourite person in the whole world.

And a full masterlist to show it:

JK is JM's number 1 fan and showing it to us whenever he just can, with or without the company's permission.

JK is one of the most artistic and creative people there are.

Suga about JK

And maybe read what one of the stylists working on the Seven concept had to say about JK and the concept.

JK's concept. He came ready to the table. He knew what he wanted to show, what message he wanted to send.

He was given option, other concepts, other ideas, and he chose what he chose.

JK didn't steal JM's ideas. He didn't utilize them for the lack of coming up with original ideas of his own. Don't believe me, believe JK's talent, his artistry.

JK CHOSE this. This is what he wanted us to see.

It's not about copying. It's about showing us who inspires him.

It's about showing us, not only telling us, who his catalyst is.

He CHOSE the EXACT same leather pants that JM wore.

Do you see the scribble at the bottom of the jeans?

JK CHOSE the jeans with the mud.

He CHOSE.

He did not copy or plagiarize.

He took artistic liberty to mirror JM's photoshoot to an extent.

Sending us all I'd say more than one message.

First one is what I mentioned above. JM is his inspiration.

Second is connecting himself to JM, to Face, to Like crazy.

Perhaps his way of showing us he's that person that stood by JM's side when he was struggling. The one that tread mud with him. The one that tried to wake him up, save him, but JM wasn't ready for that just yet at the time. The one that let JM embrace him while trying to escape reality.

And instead of seeing what JK is trying to tell us, his fans, Jikookers as well, are turning on him?

Making JK out to be someone that doesn't have an original idea and goes and steals JM's is disrespectful to both JK and JM, btw.

This coming from people that supposedly love and know JM and JK?

JM is a 27 strong willed young man. And evidently, JM has no issues with JK of late.

JK is a 25 yo creative artistic young man, who adores and admires and lives for JM, and would NEVER steal something from JM, never take something of JM's and pass it on as his own.

Do they not understand that JM is joking when he calls JK his copycat? Has been for years now.

Did they not see the joy and love in his eyes when JK said "I'm hyung's copycat"?

He knows that JK looks up to him.

He knows that JK is inspired by him.

He lives for that.

And to go and to make it into something ugly it's just so infuriating.

JM was wronged. We can agree on that. The COMPANY could have and should have done better.

THE COMPANY.

Not the other members.

Not JK.

I get the anger and frustration. But do we take it out on the one person that did right by JM? Do we take it out on the one person JM loves more than anything? The person that JM will stand by and support and root for to succeed? How is that loving JM?

Since when did two wrongs make a right?

Don't go around saying you won't support JK's single.

Support him all while continuing to support JM's songs.

#jikook #kookmin #minkook #Jungkook #Jk #JK Seven #Jimin #JM #JM Face

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forever-rogue · 1 year

Note

Protective Nurse!Steve is everything to me 🫶🫶

Imagine the reader, being her clumsy self, fell down a few steps whilst walking down the stairs and it’s not too sinister until when she lands and bumps her stomach against something. More or less, possibly hurting Blob.

So she calls a friend and her friend drives her to the hospital as she curses herself and is worried that Steve will be annoyed. He obviously won’t be but still.

Reader’s crying in the back because Blob isn’t moving and she thinks that, because of some freak accident, she’s killed Blob.

When she gets to the hospital she gets checked over and finds out Blob’s alright, she’s happy but worried because the baby’s still not moving. And Steve runs into the room, comforting Reader since it’s obvious she’s been in hysterics and he’s usual Steve just being protective over Reader and blob and then Blob starts moving again and it’s just Steve letting her know that it’s not her fault and that accidents happen 🥹🥹

Wooft that was detailed 🫢🫢

AN | Okay, but clumsy girl was destined to have an accident but nothing would ever hurt Blob 🥺 I did take some liberty with this, but I hope y’all enjoy! This can be read as a companion piece to the below but also as a stand alone!

Warnings | Mild Language

Pairing | Nurse!Steve x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2.3k

Masterlist | Steve, Main, Nurse Steve

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Robin,” you huffed as you looked at the girl as she took the boxes out of your arms. The two of you had spent the last several hours looking through one of the local children’s stores…and probably buying way more than one baby needed. But now she was refusing to let you carry a single thing, “I’m not incapable of carrying a few light boxes.”

“No way,” she shook your head, arms stacked and laden with all of your purchases, “I’m not letting you hurt yourself or my niece.”

“I wouldn’t hurt myself,” you mumbled but stopped when you saw the way she raised her eyebrows, “fine. So maybe I’m a little clumsy but - but I haven’t hurt myself at all since I’ve been pregnant.”

“Impressive,” she laughed, her pretty eyes twinkling in amusement, “you’ve gone a whole six months without injury. That’s one for the books!”

“Har har,” you laughed softly, “you and Steve are just so cruel to me.”

“By pointing out the obvious?” The two of you started your walk back to the car, weaving your way throughout the outdoor mall. You felt bad that Robin was doing all the heavy lifting, metaphorically anyway, but you knew that she did it out of love and care. If the roles were reversed, you knew you’d be doing the exact same thing for her.

You stuck your tongue out at her, and started to go down the stairs…and promptly lost your footing, sliding down the wet, slippery stairs. It happened so fast and was over before you knew but at the same time it felt like it all happened in slow motion. By the end of it all you were on the ground, on your side and in some mild pain. The shock of it all was the worst and had you trying to catch your breath, as you looked at Robin with wide eyes.

“Oh no,” she almost dropped everything as she rushed over to you, her own eyes wide and worried. She took your hands and held you to sit up, taking your face in her hands as she looked you over, “are you hurt? Is…are you okay?”

“I think so,” you could feel the tears prickling at the back of your eyes as panic set in. It wasn’t so much pain, more so the worry that set in at the possibility you might have hurt the baby, “I-I…blob. I don’t think anything happened but I don’t know.”

“It’s okay,” she promised, attempting to sound firm and sure so you wouldn’t panic more. One of you had to be strong right now and it definitely wasn’t going to be you. Robin gently helped you to your feet, brushing off any dirt clinging onto you, “I think it’s a good idea if we go and get you checked out, just in case.”

“The hospital?” your eyes widened, and a pout settled on your features. You hated going to the hospital…even the mere idea of it was enough to make your insides squirm. She nodded as a few tears pearled up and rolled down your cheeks, which she gently wiped. You sniffled, “I want Steve.”

“Well, let’s go and see Steve,” she offered you a meek little smile as she went to pout the discarded purchases. All she was going to focus on was getting you to the hospital, “I promise that everything will be fine.”

“Okay,” you nodded through a slow exhale, “okay.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Finding yourself in the sterile, familiar room once again felt like a weird dream. You sighed as you sat on the table, anxiously swinging your legs back and forth as you rested a hand on your belly. Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion as you waited for news, any sort of news at this point. Robin was still in the lobby and waiting for you, and you weren’t sure if Steve was going to be able to see you. You hated asking anyway, knowing how busy he usually was.

Eventually a light knock came at the door and you startled at the sudden interruption of your quiet contemplation and fear.

“Come in,” the door slowly creaked open and a huge wave of emotion washed over you at the sight of Steve coming in. The tears were back in full force, flowing down your face as your husband wrapped his arms around you. You buried your face in his chest, already feeling better from his mere presence, “Stevie.”

“Angel,” he pulled back and took your face in his hands, gently brushing his thumb over the apple of your cheek, “it’s okay. It’s okay, baby. I’m right here.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered softly, “I didn’t mean to…”

“Hey,” he put his finger under your chin as he turned your face up to meet his, “there is nothing to be sorry for. These things happen…and honestly, my clumsy girl, I’m surprised something like this hasn’t happened sooner. I’m glad you’re okay, and Blob is okay too.”

“What if I hurt her?” you asked softly, eyes wide with worry, “what if I hurt our baby?”

“She’s okay,” he put his hand on top of yours where it was resting against your belly and gave it a gentle squeeze, “you’re okay, she’s okay, we’re all okay.”

“Are you mad?” you looked at him with big doe eyes, tears glistening there and Steve felt his own heart break. He was positive that nothing was wrong with the baby, and he loathed the idea that you were blaming yourself for a complete accident, “please don’t be mad. I-I-I didn’t mean to.”

“Baby,” his voice took a more firm tone as he crouched down so he was eye level with you, “I am not mad or upset. I’m so glad you came, honey. The only thing I’m worried about is you. Making sure you’re okay physically and emotionally. Blob is safe and sound.”

“Steve,” your lip trembled with effort as you put your hand on his forearm as you held onto it tightly, “I haven’t felt her move.”

You saw the expression on his face pale for a moment before he collected himself and shook his head, “that’s okay, angel. She doesn’t move all the time, and just because she’s not moving now doesn’t mean something is wrong.”

“Steve,” you sighed heavily, “I fell and suddenly she’s not moving around? It doesn’t seem like a coincidence. Maybe I-I crushed or something. I just…our baby. Steve, I’ll never forgive myself if something happens to her.”

Before Steve could say anything to try and talk you down, another knock came at the door as the doctor slowly entered. A small bit of relief washed over you when you realized it was one of your favorite doctors at the hospital. One of the many perks of marrying a nurse was becoming personally acquainted with much of the hospital’s staff.

“Mrs. Harrington,” she smiled softly as she grabbed a pen out of her pocket to begin taking notes, “Steve. Normally I love seeing you both - but I don’t love seeing you here. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on? You fell?”

“Yeah,” you hung your head, “I was with my friend and we were talking and walking down some stairs, they were slippery from the rain, and I just slipped and fell down some of them.”

“Did you hurt yourself?”

“I landed on my side so my hip is a little sore but otherwise it didn’t seem like anything was wrong,” you explained, Steve’s arm wrapping around your shoulder, “but I didn’t want…I panicked a little bit and came in.”

“Okay,” she studied you and you swallowed thickly, “do you think something happened to the baby?”

“She’s not moving,” it was a squeak of an admission as you tried to get her to move, “and she’s been active a lot lately. And I just…I want to make sure nothing is wrong.”

“I’m almost positive that everything is fine,” she insisted softly, “sometimes babies go through periods where they’re more active than others. There’s no rhyme or reason for it. But we’ll do some tests and get in and ultrasound just to make sure, okay?”

“Please,” you nodded, dabbing at your eyes with the sleeve of your sweater, “I just want to be sure that she’s okay.”

“And we’ll get you all the answers,” she promised, “you’re in good hands here.”

“I know,” you reached for Steve’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, “thank you,”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You still felt half hysterical as you stared as you laid on the table, waiting for confirmation that nothing was wrong. Your shirt was pulled up and belly exposed, slathered in cold gel as the ultrasound tech got to work. You loved her too - she’d been with you since the beginning of your pregnancy and always had a reassuring presence about her. Steve was at your side, your hand clutched tightly in his. He kept whispering soft reassurances in your ear, which helped to ease your worry ever so slightly.

“Alright,” she stuck the wand on your belly and started to move it around, and you almost held your breath. She moved it around, and you saw your little blob appear on the screen. That alone made you relax, even though you were well aware that there was still a baby there, “well, that is one good looking baby.”

“Yeah?” you asked softly and she nodded. The fact that you didn’t hear anything or see any movement, didn’t help however, “is she…is…”

The fact that the sonogram hadn’t picked up her heartbeat was making you nervous. The logical part of your brain knew that just because you didn’t hear the sound immediately didn’t mean anything was wrong. Steve grimaced when he felt how tightly you were squeezing his hand but kept his face as neutral as possible.

She moved the wand around your stomach and you squinted as you stared at the screen to see if you could pick up any movement. Worry and fear squeezed at your heart as every horrible scenario ran through your mind.

But then you heard it…softly at first but then strong and steady and nothing but relief washed over you. Steve let out a small sigh of relief as he leaned over and pressed a kiss to the side of your head.

“There we are,” she smiled softly at you, pointing out the different parts of the baby on the screen, “all safe and sound and healthy.”

“She’s okay?” you really didn’t trust anything right now but she nodded at you, “please tell me she’s okay.”

“She’s okay,” she promised, “steady heart beat and there’s movement. But just to do a full check up, we’ll do some blood work too, alright?”

“Yes please,” you leaned your head on Steve’s shoulder, “thank you so much. I feel silly now…but I’d rather just be sure, you know?”

“I understand,” she nodded sweetly, not judging you in the slightest. She’d seen this same type of thing many times before, “besides, it’s your first child. Everything is all new and different for you, so it’s natural to be worried and have heightened senses around…well, everything. But it’s okay - it’s better to be safe than sorry, right?”

“Right,” you closed your eyes and let out a long sigh, “sorry for panicking like this, Stevie.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for, angel,” he insisted softly, “I’m sure it’d be the same if the roles were reversed. And now we know that she’s alright, and you are too. I love you so much, baby.”

“I love you too,” you pressed a kiss to your cheek, “you and blob. So, so much.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hey sweetheart,” your eyes opened at the sound of his soft voice, a sleepy smile tugging up the corners of your mouth. Steve was crouched next to you, brushing your hair out of your face, “have a nice nap sleepyhead?”

“Unintended nap,” you replied sheepishly, “I sat down for all of five minutes and fell asleep.”

“It was a long day,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead before sitting on the couch next to you and pulling you into his lap. You made a small sound of contend as you made yourself comfortable and looked at him with soft eyes, “are you feeling alright?”

“Better now,” you promised, carding a hand through his soft locks, “now that we’re both home and cuddling. It was a long day…I can’t believe I just…fell. Well all of it.”

“Are we really that surprised?” there was a cocky grin on his face as he raised an eyebrow. You huffed playfully before gent;y pushing your hand against his chest. He wrapped his fingers around your wrist and your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, “sorry clumsy girl, you know it’s all in good fun.”

“For all of you!” you groaned, “I’m the one suffering. Well…kind of. I’m not really hurt or suffering. Just the butt of the joke. I hope you're happy with yourself, Steve.”

“Very,” he snorted in amusement, “but more than anything, I’m glad my girls are okay.”

“Me too,” you agreed, “I’m glad Robin was with me and kept me calm. And I’m glad you were able to be with me.”

“I would have done anything to be with you,” he promised and you knew what he was saying was true. This was Steve after all, “you know that.”

“I do,” you promised softly, “I love you so, so much.”

“I love you,” he put his hand on your hand on your belly which caused Blob to flutter gently, “and you too, little Blob. Both my girls.”

“And we love you, Stevie.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington one shot #st #nurse!steve #joe keery

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miryum · 10 months

Text

Sweetheart- Chapter 1

Summary: Jason Todd finds himself in a Groundhog Day situation and it won't stop until he finds his soulmate who's going through the exact same situation. But will you two stop being idiots long enough to too see what's in front of you? Not even the author knows...

Reader and Jason Todd have to repeat the same day until they realise they're soulmates, but once they do so, a soulmate mark will appear and their lives continue

Disclaimer: I know very little of the DC Universe (having never watched/read any of the movies/comics...) so please feel free to correct me on shit, but again, I took liberties with the ages and jobs (like, I know the majority of the Wayne kids aren't high school age and Bruce would never hand his job off, but I will stab canon until the pages of this fanfic run red with its blood)

ao3 link

Principal Gordon sighed and leaned back in his chair. “What is it now, Todd?”

Jason shrugged. “I have absolutely no idea. Mr. Queen just doesn’t like me.”

“Or is it that you were being disruptive in his class and harassing Ms. L/n?” Principal Gordon raised a brow.

Jason chuckled and crossed his arms. “Harassing her? I wouldn’t call it harassing. Just some harmless flirting.”

“Mr. Queen said you were throwing crumpled pieces of paper at her that had inappropriate pick-up lines written on them,” Principal Gordon said. “You also disturbed Mr. Allen and Ms. Grace?”

“Bart and Artemis are exaggerating,” Jason’s leather jacket hung around him and he shoved his hands in the pockets. “Just some friendly banter. They’re too eager to rat me out. I would take their words with a grain of salt.”

Principal Gordon rubbed his eyes. He was counting down the days until Jason either graduated or dropped out- whichever came first. “Mr. Todd, this has been the… what? Fourth time you’ve been in my office this semester?”

“Fifth, if you count the day you were out sick and Mr. James had to deal with me,” Jason added. Principal Gordon hummed and nodded in agreement.

“You’re a good kid and you know how I know that?”

“‘Cause of my dad and my brothers and sister?” Jason rolled his eyes.

“No,” Principal Gordon shook his head and he softly smiled. “Because of your grades,” he pushed Jason’s transcript towards the boy. It showed near-perfect marks. “And because of your behaviour- excluding things like this.” Jason looked down at the floor and scuffed his shoe on the tile. “It’s not just Mr. Wayne who’s convinced you’re a good kid. It’s Mr. Kent and Ms. Prince, too. You help your siblings and are extremely protective of them. You have compassion and loyalty, Jason. You simply exhibit them in different ways.”

“Yeah, uh, thanks, Gordon.” Jason stood and avoided the principal’s stare. “Now, if you don’t mind, the bell’s about to ring and I don’t wanna miss any more education than I need to. You know me- need to fill up this big brain with as much information as I can!”

Principal Gordon huffed, his moustache twitching, but waved him away. Jason grinned, gave him a salute, and dashed out of the office, slinging his backpack over a shoulder. Once he was out of the door, he let the smile drop, blowing a piece of hair out of his face. Jason’s eyes flickered to the clock, and on cue, the bells sang throughout the school. Automatically, doors opened and the halls were filled. Jason weaved and pushed through the students, intent on locating one person.

“How was ol’ Gordon?” An arm was slung around his shoulder and Jason groaned and pushed Dick off.

“How’d you find out?”

“Cass texted the group chat.” Jason dug out his phone and swore at the numerous messages he found waiting for him. Dick and Cass were gleeful, Damian was being a little shit, Tim hadn’t said anything, and Alfred and Bruce were overwhelmingly disappointed in him.

Jason shoved the phone back in his pocket, ignoring the messages, and scanned the halls.

“Idiot little brother,” Dick dramatically sighed, hooking an arm around Jason again. “But I don’t know if you’re more stupid in academics or romance.”

“Can you shut the hell up?” Jason asked, punching Dick in the torso. He rounded the corner and there you were. “Cass! Can you not rat me out next time?” He directed his attention to his sister who was leaning by your locker.

“Jason! Can you not interrupt my conversation next time?” Cass retorted, pushing off the lockers. You shot Jason a look of disgustment and he winked back.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Jason saddled up next to you. “Did’ya like my notes?”

“Did’ya like the principal’s office?” you shot back. “They might as well give you your own chair from how much time you spend there. What’re you clocking in? Four hours a day? Wouldn’t you say that deserves some compensation?”

“You would think so,” Jason said. “But it turns out I need to join the union first.” You closed your locker and started off towards your next class. Jason wrestled your books from you and you begrudgingly let him. “What’s that?” His voice lowered and his eyes fixated on a point on your arm.

“Hmm? Oh, the doctor had to draw some blood a couple days ago. They couldn’t find the vein right away so it left a bruise.”

“No one touched you, yeah?” He lifted a brow and you shook your head in reassurance. “Good.” He shifted your books to one arm and his muscles flexed. Not that you were looking. He ran a finger over the bruise. “You know you could tell me?” Cass rolled her eyes to Dick who snickered.

“I know, Jason. You’ve been adamant about that. Now, if you could give me back my necessary textbooks, I would love to go to Science.”

“Chivalry isn’t dead, sweetheart. Now where’s your desk?”

“Mr. Todd,” Mr. Kent exhaled as Jason entered the classroom. “Didn’t you already grace me with your presence today? What are you doing back?”

“Good to see you too, Mr. Kent!” Jason grinned. “Just dropping off my girl and then I’ll be outta your hair.”

“Not your girl,” you corrected, though you knew it was futile.

“If you’re not dating anyone, you’re my girl,” Jason shot back. “And as I don’t see a soulmate brand on your wrist, you’re still mine.”

“Hello Ms. L/n,” Mr. Kent tried to hide a smile at the antics of his students.

You sat down at your desk and greeted your neighbour, Roy. “Hello Y/n. Jaybird… ” Roy gave a shit-eating grin to his friend. “How was Gordon?”

“You asshole,” Jason griped. A warning bell rang and he slowly started backing up towards the door. “Goodbye, sweetheart. I’ll see you in English.” You hummed noncommittally in reply. “Goodbye, shitface!” he called to Roy, throwing up his favourite finger. Roy blew him a kiss.

“He is whipped.” Your desk partner whistled.

“No, he’s not,” you said. “I don’t know what we are, but I’m surprised he even looks at me, and certainly not in a romantic way.”

“Have you seen him hold anyone else’s stuff? That boy would burn the entire school down if it meant your safety.”

“Have you seen him with his girlfriends? Plural.” You opened your notebook as Mr. Kent started his science speech.

“And when was the last time he had a girlfriend?” Roy rested an elbow on the desk, completely ignoring the teacher.

“Why the fuck are we still talking about this? Science and stuff are more critical than my non-existent relationships.”

“Y/n, I think your love life will always be the single-handedly most important thing to me ever,” Roy said honestly.

“Pity that there’s nothing to be interested in.”

“You realise you inadvertently belittled yourself.”

“Yes, Roy, I’m aware.”

------

Jason woke up to screaming and shouts. Another ordinary day. “Jason! Get up!” Tim banged on the door. “You’re gonna be late!” Jason groaned and covered his head with his pillow.

The door flew open and Cass waltzed in. “I think I left my book in here last night.” She started rummaging around the nightstand.

“Get out!”

“Come on, you’ll be late to see Y/n!” Dick called from the doorway before running off to shower.

Jason paused. Dick was right. He needed to get up so he could meet you at the school doors. Not that you wanted to meet him, but he was always there anyway.

“Oh, there he is,” Cassandra laughed. “That lovesick fool.”

“Ah, shut up. What’s for breakfast?” Jason slowly stood, stretching his sore muscles. He had spent last night at the gym in front of the punching bag. The rest of his siblings had eventually joined him in the Wayne gym. Damian had challenged him to a sparring match in which Damian and Tim teamed up on him and barely managed to win. He was going easy on them.

“Albert made pancakes.”

“Sweet,” Jason tugged on his clothes and signature leather jacket. “Do you ever find it weird that Alfred is the owner of a multimillion dollar company and he still makes us pancakes?”

“Do you ever find it weird that Bruce is the economics teacher at our school and you still wind up in Gordon’s office every other day?” Cass found her book and started out of the room. Jason followed after her.

“Do you ever find it weird,” Damian called from the bathroom, “that Dad quit his job to start teaching the youth of Gotham City and handed his company over to his butler after I was born? Clearly, we know who the favourite is.”

“Do you ever find it weird that you guys are interrupting my shower?!” Dick stuck his head out of said shower, motioning for Damian to close the door.

“Do you ever find it weird that in a house of idiots,” Tim hopped down the stairs. “I’m able to stay sane?”

“Dude, same.” Cass fistbumped Tim and they shared a secret handshake.

When the family finally arrived at Gotham High, after Jason’s bacon being stolen by Damian, Tim absent on account of before-school extracurriculars, and Alfred flipping pancakes while sporting an apron over his suit, Jason couldn’t help but scan the crowd. It was a routine he had grown accustomed to.

You were stepping off the bus, talking to Artemis and Kori. “Go on, loverboy,” Dick snickered.

“Fuck you,” was his reply.

“Hey, Todd,” Cass called. “When we get back home, I’m gonna re-dye your hair. You’re losing the white streak.”

Jason groaned. “Fine,” he grumbled, biting back a remark that it wasn’t dyed. He had lost that battle a long time ago.

“What’re you reading today, L/n?” He snatched your backpack away from you, intent on keeping his chivalrous streak alive.

“The Fault In Our Stars, a reread,” you said.

“You don’t have to prove it to me, doll,” Jason said.

You took a breath at the new nickname, but were quick to bite back. “Prove it? I don’t know what you mean.”

“You don’t need to tell me you’ve read it before to prove you’re smart. You’re telling me it’s a reread cause you’re showing that you could be reading harder, more complex books but you “settled” for this one. But don’t worry, doll, I know you’re smart. Might even have to get you to tutor me.”

“I’ve seen your grades, Jason. You don’t need a tutor.”

“How sweet,” Jason placed a hand over his heart, pretending to swoon. “The Lady L/n thinks me as smart as she.”

“I never said you’re as smart as me,” you corrected.

“Care to make a little wager, then?” Jason held open the school door for you. Artemis rolled her eyes when he let it swing shut after you and she pulled it back open for her and Kori.

“No,” you deadpanned. “Because I know whatever idea you have concocting in that little brain of yours will be degrading.” You paused at your locker, tugging your bag back. You said your goodbyes to Artemis and Kori, promising to see them later without a parasite named Jason clinging to you.

“Get a better score on the English test today,” Jason proposed. “And I’ll leave you alone if you ask me to. But if I get a higher score, I get to call you my girl.”

“Absolutely not.” You shut him down but couldn’t help your competitive spirit spark up. “However,” you swung the locker closed and you could see a glimmer alight in Jason’s eyes. “If you win, I will allow you to take me on a date.” Jason’s lips parted and his tongue shot out to moisten them. His head tilted up, eyes still locked on yours. “Maybe you’ll finally get over your obsession with me.” Your throat closed up at the prospect. Not that you would ever admit it, but you liked the attention Jason was giving you. He made you feel special. He made you feel loved.

“Obsession?” Jason whispered. He adjusted his jacket, fiddling with the zipper. “Is that what- you know what, yeah.” His supposed confidence returned. “But I’d be worried, Y/n. I’m not sure I’d be able to get rid of you if you go on a date with me.”

Rid of you. “Yeah, sure. And this is on the likelihood you’ll get a better score than me in English? That is where I thrive, Todd.”

“Same, actually.” Jason smirked. “It’s my highest grade.”

“Then let the best student win.” You stuck out your hand and Jason shook it, ignoring the warmth in his chest he got from touching you.

“I will.”

“Funny. I was just about to say that.”

Jason brushed a hand over your bruise. “When you’re done with Fault in our Stars, have you read The Count of Monte Cristo?”

“No. Would you recommend it?”

“Highly.”

You hummed and grabbed his hand to pull him out of the way of a group of theatre kids. “I’ve always wanted to go to Monte Cristo.”

“Sweetheart, that’s an expensive first date,” Jason joked, gripping your hand tighter when you tried to tug away.

“Eh, maybe as a fifth date.” Jason felt his face ignite at your words. He would kill for the prospect of a fifth date with you.

“I have to ace this test, first and foremost.”

“An impossible feat.” You elbowed the boy in the side before winking at him and darting into your first class. You collapsed into your desk, your smug demeanour collapsing too. When was the last time you had openly flirted with someone?

“I can’t wait to plan the wedding!” Kori squealed. You groaned loudly in response.

Outside the classroom, Jason couldn’t wipe the smile from his face. “You finally got an in.” Tim appeared out of nowhere and clapped him on the back. “I never thought I’d live to see the day.”

Jason couldn’t find an insult to throw back, something that in itself spoke volumes. “How was Coding Club?”

Tim frowned. Did Jason ever ask about his extracurriculars? “It was good…” he said slowly. “We’re designing this robot to-” he started rambling as Jason sauntered down the hall, looking as if he’d won the lottery. And he hadn’t even taken the test yet.

------

Jason glanced over at you. You had finished the test a couple minutes ago and were now reclined in your desk, copy of The Fault in our Stars propped up and Jason could almost trace the crease between your brows at your concentration. He shook his head to clear the distracting thoughts and tried to focus back on the test.

Explain the significance of John Proctor proclaiming, “God is dead!” and then reciting prayers before his execution.

Jason started scribbling out a reply and was soon caught up in his response.

Ms. Prince surveyed her students closely, looking for any sign of cheating. Her eyes locked on you. Ms. Prince always had a soft spot for you. You communicated and spoke up in class and definitely weren’t afraid to advocate for your beliefs. But she also noticed how you and Jason tested and battled each other. She noticed how the two of you willed each other to be better. You kept each other on your toes. Maybe that was one of the reasons she sat you next to each other. Maybe she could see the harbouring feelings. Maybe she just wanted to see some drama during the 160+ days she was stuck in school.

Jason snickered to himself and Ms. Prince silently prayed to her gods that he kept his responses appropriate. She also prayed that you and Jason would figure out your feelings before the end of the school year. She wasn’t going to sit through your countless arguments and flirtatious comments for nothing.

The class eventually came to an end and Ms. Prince announced, “the scores will be released by nine o’clock tonight. Good job and good luck.”

Jason swept out of the room, giving you a wink akin to the one he received earlier that day.

“He’s an annoying little bitch,” Cass muttered.

“I wasn’t gonna say anything, ‘cause he’s your brother, but yeah,” you agreed. “Incredibly cocky and self-absorbed.”

“Amen,” she slapped you a high-five before bidding you goodbye. Soon, one sibling was replaced by another and Damian ran up to you.

“Y/n!” he crowed, latching himself to your arm. “How’ve you been? Good? Good. Listen, do a guy a favour, will you? I’ve been with you this entire time.”

“What the hell did you do and am I going to get in trouble for it?” you hissed, but automatically pulled him on the inside of you, instinctively shielding him from any oncoming danger.

“Nothing, nothing,” Damian promised. He had learned early on that the answer to everything was deny, deny, deny. “But Dad may be finding glitter in his desk drawer right about now.”

“Damian,” you groaned. “That’s a fantastic prank and I love you for it, but your Dad is not the type of person who wants glitter in their files. Next time get Mr. Kent.”

“Ooh, good tip.” The boy let out a laugh that sounded a bit too evil for your taste and you refrained from smacking him upside the head.

“Damian Wayne!” A shout came down the hall.

“Shit,” Damian clutched your arm. “Remember, I’ve been with you the entire time.”

“I know the drill,” you rolled your eyes. “I’ve been graced with your presence far too much to not know how to act.”

Damian paused and studied you. You quizzically stared back. “I like you,” the freshman suddenly decided.

“Thanks? I thought that was already established.”

“I can see why Jason adores you.”

“Excuse me?!”

“Oh, this is my class!” Damian beamed. “Gotta go before Dad catches me! Bye, Y/n!”

“Bye? But what do you mean-” The boy ran away before you could demand answers.

“Y/n?” You turned around to find Mr. Wayne in front of you. “Do you happen to know where my youngest went?”

“Your youngest? As in Damian? He was with me the entire passing period, but just went off to his next class.” The lie came easily.

Mr. Wayne sighed and ran a hand down his face. “You’re lucky I like you so much, Y/n. If you weren’t friends with my children, I would have half a mind to put you in detention.”

“But you like me,” you reminded him, smiling widely. “So… you won’t.”

“As long as you accept my invitation to join us for dinner tonight,” Mr. Wayne negotiated. “It’s been too long since Alfred fed you and he’s starting to worry that Jason scared you off.”

“I assure you, Mr. Wayne, Jason hasn’t done anything of the sort. And yes, I would be happy to join your family for dinner.”

“Good,” Mr. Wayne said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to track down my spawn.”

“Bye, Mr. Wayne!” You managed the rest of the day without any more surprises from the Wayne family. In History, Mr. Curry was clearly nursing a hangover, so he put on the “historical” movie Night at the Museum. During Gym, Mr. Allen (Bart’s father, a fact that the boy always lorded over you for no apparent reason) was adamant on playing baseball. Luckily, Kori and Bart were both on your team, so with the combined speed-Bart- and strength- Kori (you were always shocked at how much muscle she packed under her bubbly personality)- your team won by a wide margin. Other than the bet with Jason, it had been a normal day, one you quickly wrote off in the books. Ms. Quinn, the librarian, bid you an enthusiastic goodbye at the end of the day.

“Hey, Alfred,” you said as you entered the Wayne Manor.

“Miss. Y/n!” Alfred smothered his smile. “It’s a pleasure to see you again. How’ve you been, my dear?”

“I’ve been good. And you? How are things at Wayne Enterprises?”

“Mr. Wayne left the company in good condition, albeit I’ve been making some changes with staffing and schedules. Our stocks have been rising and I can safely say that the company is in good hands.”

“That’s fantastic, Alfred. Though I can’t say I’m surprised. After running this household, running a company can’t be too hard.”

Alfred was about to retort when Damian ran up to you. “Y/n! Thank god you’re here! I need help with my homework.”

“You literally have four older siblings and a teacher as a parent. I don’t think you need me,” you said.

“But, Y/n!” Damian whined and you questioned if he was a freshman, giving how he was acting like a kindergartner. “You’re my favourite!”

“I can’t argue with that,” you conceded. “What do you need help with?”

“Science! Dr. Isley is kicking my ass.” Alfred shot the boy a glare and Damian corrected, “She does not like me.”

“Isn’t Tim better at Science? Or Cass?” After some debate, you finally gave in to the boy’s pleads. “How can I help?” Damian slumped down at the kitchen table which was already occupied by Dick and Tim. You figured that Cass was tucked in her room, independently doing her homework, and you pushed the thought of Jason out of your mind.

“I don’t know… just, help!” He opened his folder and extracted a worksheet filled with equations on density and force. You grimaced. You hadn’t done this in two years and wondered if you could coax the information out of the darkest depths of your mind. You had thrown the equations in the literal and metaphorical trash the second you stepped out of that class.

You started walking Damian through the questions, simultaneously working on your Maths homework and frequently checking your email to see if your English score had been released.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” a smooth voice sang in your ear. You elbowed Jason in the gut and he let out a groan.

“More like, look what your brother dragged in.”

“The scores just came out, sweetheart,” Jason smirked. “Shall we see who’s the victor?” Cass groaned as she walked in, heading for the snack cabinet.

“No! I need help from my future sister-in-law!” Damian cried. Jason turned red and looked away. Dick laughed loudly and even Tim pressed his lips together to stop a laugh.

“Damn right,” You held up your hand and Cass slapped it. “Cass and I are getting married and none of you are invited to the wedding. Except Alfred, of course.”

“Of course,” Cass agreed.

“Just show me your score,” Jason tried to return to the topic at hand.

“Fine,” you pulled up your email, a glistening new message from Ms. Prince in your inbox. Oddly enough, you didn’t feel nervous. You would be fine with either outcome, knowing you would never tell Jason to leave you alone. But he didn’t know that. Jason’s nerves were haywire, worried that the second you got your scores, you would tell him to piss off. “What’d you get?”

“A 97, but technically a 92.” Jason proudly said. “I got extra credit.”

“Ms. Prince doesn’t give out extra credit!” you exclaimed. “What the hell?!”

“If you ask incredibly nicely and tell her it's for a good cause,” Jason said. “Then yes, she does.”

“You fucking told her about our bet, didn’t you.”

“Why yes, yes I did.” Jason looked incredibly proud of himself and you wanted nothing more than to wipe that cocky simper off his face.

“What bet?” Mr. Wayne strutted into the room.

“Nothing,” both you and Jason answered at the same time Dick launched into an explanation of the wager. Mr. Wayne side-eyed both you and his son before peeking at Alfred. Alfred gave him a small shrug in response.

“Just make sure no one gets emotionally hurt, Jason.” Bruce said.

“How come you’re telling me and not Y/n!” Jason stood up, looking aghast.

“Because Y/n is smarter than that,” Mr. Wayne said simply.

Ignoring his father, Jason rounded on you. “Seriously, doll, what was your score?”

You glanced down at the number on your screen and a silent war raged on in your mind. On one side, your pride stood tall, but on the other, your heart begged for something else. “95,” you blurted out.

The room went silent. Bruce and Alfred exchanged a glance and Bruce immediately took out his phone and started typing away. Cass looked over your shoulder and hummed. Tim let out a low whistle and Damian cackled. Dick closely watched his younger brother with a pleased smile.

“Wait, actually?” Jason asked.

“Yes, Todd,” you sighed. “Actually.” Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Bruce show his phone to Alfred. Alfred raised an eyebrow and you had an inkling of who Bruce had texted.

“Damn, sweetheart,” Jason continued. “Did you throw the test on purpose?”

“Just take the date, Jason.” You said, “I wouldn’t dwell on it. Though I am expecting you to pull out all the stops.”

“You won’t be disappointed, sweetheart.” Jason pressed a kiss to your forehead and you pushed him away, ignoring the twists and turns of your stomach.

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expectopatronum81 · 5 months

Text

Analysis: Was Hermione really shown to be superior to Lavender in HBP?

The whole 'Hermione vs Lavender' thing, aka uplifting the nerdy girl over the girly girl doesn't exist in the books, it is entirely fan made.

People often talk about how Lavender, a girly girl (who giggles, is interested in divinition, loves unicorns etc) was put down in the books just to uplift Hermione, someone who isn't particularly feminine and who's nerdy and intelligent with regards to their relationship with Ron in hbp. This literally never happened though, Rowling went to elaborate lengths to establish that all 3 of them were incredibly immature and hormonal teenagers

Rowling might hv been partial to Hermione in a lot of instances but this isn't one of the. Hermione is portrayed to be just as immature and teenage-like as the other 2, in ways that don't strike as 'uplifting'. Rowling even crosses the line doing this, like with the bird attack. Ron and Hermione bicker due to terrible communication, then Hermione cries alone in a classroom when she sees Ron kissing lavender, and is thereafter described as 'mysteriously vanishing' every time Ron and Lavender are together. She's constantly shown to be really jealous and angry with this.

“He’s at perfect liberty to kiss whomever he likes,” said Hermione. “I really couldn’t care less.” She raised her quill and dotted an i so ferociously that she punctured a hole in her parchment. Harry said nothing"

She then teases Ron and runs to the bathroom crying when he teases her back, then debates picking between Cormac McLaggen and Zacarias Smith- she ends up picking Cormac as 'he'd annoy Ron the most' (Cormac being Ron's 'rival' for the post of Keeper in Quidditch).

In what way does this qualify as 'shown to be superior'!?

Harry constantly complains about Hermione's pettiness. The book literally says:

Harry was left to ponder in silence the depths to which girls would sink to get revenge.

The use of the word girls in plural shows that in no way does the plot or the narrative think that Hermione is superior to Lavender. They're both the same: teenage girls being petty and dumb asf, Hermione in a vindictive way and Lavender in an overly romantic way. Harry, who doesn't discriminate girls for being feminine (eg. Fleur), is also sick of Ron and Lavender. Even Parvati, who's just as girly as Lavender, was tired of them.

“Hi, Harry,” said Parvati who, like him, looked faintly embarrassed and bored by the behavior of their two friends.

Lavender was never shown as weak just because she was feminine or pitted against Hermione. She joins the DA in OotP, was one of the first few girls to join the DA and Neville into hiding in fear of being targeted by the Carrows in DH (implying that she'd rebelled against them all year), and stayed back at Hogwarts to defend the castle after Voldemort's warning.

All of this wasn't written to uplift or put down anybody, both the girls were just written as teenagers. And for me that's what makes their last interaction so heartbreaking in DH

Two bodies fell from the balcony overhead as they reached the ground a gray blur that Harry took for an animal sped four-legged across the hall to sink its teeth into one of the fallen. “NO!” shrieked Hermione, and with a deafening blast from her wand, Fenrir Greyback was thrown backward from the feebly struggling body of Lavender Brown.

Its not Ron who protects her, its Hermione. That shriek in capitals and the 'deafening blast' seem so devastatingly personal. This was the girl she'd spent 6 years sharing classes with and living in the same dormitory with.

Its the fans that pit the 2 against each other, while the narrative does the exact opposite. Both girls were very young. They went from being petty teenagers fighting over a guy to fighting in a brutal war and seeing unimaginable horrors.

#harry potter #hermione granger #ron weasley #lavender brown #romione #hp meta #hp ladies #hp analysis

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vermithorn · 2 years

Text

* JEALOUS

pairing: aemond targaryen x fem!reader

summary: aemond couldn't stand how you danced with other men.

contains: nsfw, handjob, dirty talk, possessive behavior, drinking, toxic relationship, sub/dom aemond/reader respectively.

author’s note: we h word and what about it,,, i love my babygirl hehe,,, enjoy and remember english isn't my first language <3 also no beta like always, we die like men :*

aemond scowled, his gaze glued to your body.

you were teasing him from afar dancing with another man, swaying in somebody else’s arms that weren’t his. his gaze hardened, the hands of the other man were dangerously approaching territory they weren’t allowed and aemond started fuming.

you didn’t belong to him, he had to understand that.

after a few cups of dornish wine, you went directly to the dance floor by yourself. the celebrations of aegon's coronation were extraordinarily loud and messy, and so were you.

aemond tried his best to keep his thoughts to himself and not cause a scene, but you were making it very difficult. the way you danced around those men who weren't keeping their hands to themselves made aemond seethe in his uncomfortable seat.

your father the last few weeks kept telling you this was the instance to find a good man to marry and join houses, but he didn't specify how so you took some liberties for his request.

aemond has known you since you two were kids, your father had just become the newest member of the court, the new master of coin, so you were around aemond very often growing up. you two became close just right after the incident where his nephew took his eye, you took care of him when he came back from driftmark wounded and scared. you were just a year older than him, so he took comfort in your arms when he felt he couldn't bear it any longer.

but that didn't matter at all, because you two grew apart with the years. being a teenager was hard for aemond, constantly suffering bad treatment from his older brother or his grandfather, the hand of the king.

you tried to make your friendship work with him as a teenager, but he gave you the cold shoulder, almost completely ignoring you in any way he could, so you accepted it and moved on with your life without him, living almost two chambers over him.

you grew to be the most astonishing woman aemond has laid his eyes on, but just the one he couldn't have for himself.

it was obvious he had feelings for you since you two were kids, he did his best to avoid and ignore them but you always popped up when he least expect it.

like right now, when you revealed to your friends (he wasn't stalking you, ok) that your father had put you on a mission to get a husband that exact night, he saw red but had to keep it to himself.

so there you were, dancing drunk with some unknown lord with aemond's gaze glued on you.

after a few songs and more men surrounding you, he had enough of your bullshit, standing up from his seat and walking towards you quickly.

he grabbed you by the arm and pulled you out of the circle you had formed for yourself, dragging you out of the room and into a hallway.

“hey! what are you doing?” you barked, getting angry. “let go of me right now, prince aemond.” his grip on your arm tightened as he cornered you against the wall, pressing his body against yours.

okay, he had been drinking too.

“are you really selling yourself to please your father?” he growled in your ear, a possessive tone slipping away from his control.

you smirked, “so this is what it took to make you jealous.”

“hm, was this your plan all along?” you nodded slightly, aemond buried his face in your neck, your right hand instinctively going up to his hair grabbing it roughly.

aemond felt stupid falling for you, always wrapped around your finger.

“did it work, my prince?” aemond groaned, grabbing your waist tightly, “i was actually going to stop trying since you made zero effort to notice me in the past,” you whispered in his ear, and he shivered.

how he could be so stupid? all your efforts to get him like this in the past got unnoticed by him... all the time he spent beating himself up for ignoring his feelings for you, you were all the time trying to get him worked up like this.

“of course, it fucking worked,” he spat, “you're mine.”

you laughed, grasping his hair and yanking it down. he let out a moan as he was facing you, your hand secured on his hair holding him in place. “no, you got it all wrong,” you got closer to his face, lips almost touching as you whispered possessively, “you're mine, my prince.”

as he was distracted by your hand pulling his hair, you got your other arm free from his grasp and went directly to his robes, caressing his lower stomach.

he panted, “what were you saying, my prince?” your grasp on his hair got tighter. “i will kill any girl that looks your way.” his eyes rolled back as you untied his pants skillfully, grabbing his now hard cock with your hand.

“maybe i'll let you show me off to the other lords, that's what you want, right?” he couldn't form proper sentences with your hand on his cock, “i know you aemond, i see you following me around, scaring off the lords that have the intention of proposing a marriage bond for me.”

your hand worked him up and down quickly, lubricating him with his own precum. “were you this hard when i was dancing with the other lords? were you imagining yourself touching me like they were? do you think i don't notice you?” he moaned, his hands running through your body as much as they could.

your words were hitting all the right spots in his mind as your hand worked on him, he was so close.

“are you going to cum for me, my prince?” he nodded, his eyes rolling back as he was about to combust. “do it then, cum all over your pants for me.”

his breathing quickened as he came gasping for air, his chest rising quickly, he felt his knees giving in but you were holding him until he could stand up properly.

your grip on his hair loosened, now caressing it, “now we are going to go back and excuse ourselves properly, then we are going to my chambers.” you kissed him deeply, “and don't worry, the only man i'm planning to marry is you, my prince.” he nodded, giving you a weak smile.

he had to make up for the time he lost somehow, right?

#aemond #aemond targaryen #tvrgvryen #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen imagine #house of the dragon #hotd #got #game of thrones #hotd x reader

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leanderfields · 11 months

Text

SYNOPSIS: No song lasts forever. Not even a sparrow’s.

C/W: Ais x gn!reader, reader is MC with the curse and all, angst/tragedy- it’s fluffy until it’s not, a few innuendos if you squint, Leander makes an appearance, so does Princess and Vere, spoilers for the red choice in Ais’s demo route, mentions of blood, mild depictions of violence (more like the aftermath; I personally think it’s minor but just in case), written before the full game has been released so some creative liberties were taken when writing about Hightown and the Amaryllis District, more or less my rendition of an early bad ending for Ais, largely inspired by Enna Alouette's Wish of this Songbird

A/N: When you blog is Leander themed, but your first official post is about Ais and it's angst... haha whoops ─=≡Σᕕ(σ‿‿σ)ᕗ

Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop. Drip. Drip.

Ais took yet another drag on his cigarette, exhaling with an indolent puff of smoke. This one looks like Princess, he thought. The Soulless let out a reverberating purr on his lap.

“You think so too, huh?” he grinned, scratching the top of her head. The other hand crushed the butt of the cigarette beneath his heel. That was enough of playing with smoke for now. Any more then he would have to make a trip to Lowtown before the sun sets. Bars weren’t fun during the day, but the streets were livelier according to a certain mage. The idea of running into familiar faces while taking a leisurely stroll didn’t seem that bad either.

Ais drove the cigarette butt deeper into his heel. Well, it’s not like he could leave right now.

Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop. Pant. Pant.

Princess sprung off his lap, wooden panels creaking as she bounced towards the Seaspring’s entrance. Her tail swayed back and forth and her tendrils followed in suit. Ais reached for an extra floor pillow. Must be someone she liked.

“Ais! Are you home?” a cheery voice chirped between Princess’s purrs.

The demon smirked, hoisting himself up the rafters. He shifted into a comfortable position and propped his head onto the back of his hand. The beams rasped under his weight. His crimson eyes flickered to his Soulless pet who was quick to follow his trail, leading a cloaked figure to a tea set in between two hastily arranged floor pillows.

“Ais! I know you’re home!”

Princess gave him an eager stare. He put a finger to his lips and tossed the Soulless a treat from up above, one she happily scarfed down.

“Ai–”

“You should try looking up more, sparrow.”

“Well, hosts usually don’t greet guests from up above,” you said, pulling your hood down to meet his gaze, revealing bright eyes full of wonder and hope. Eyes that bored into his blood-red, piercing orbs. Ais saw them one too many times before they were engulfed by the same crimson that colored these eerily still waters.

“Who said you’re my guest?”

“If I recall, your exact words were ‘you know where to find me.’” You crossed your arms.

Ais sighed and jumped off the rickety rafter. The wood creaked beneath his feet and the waters rippled across the spring as he towered over you. His lips were on the verge of smiling.

“Still not my guest though.”

“Even if I made a decision?”

“Even if you made a decision,” he flashed his fangs at you with a grin. You rolled your eyes and took a seat on one of the floor pillows. Princess trotted over to your side. Her tail continued to wag while you hummed a sweet song, pouring tea into two cups. Someone’s in a good mood. You were fairly relaxed despite dubbing the Seaspring as “the creepiest place in the world”.

“So what’s your verdict?” he asked.

“The tea is oversteeped,” you quipped, handing him a cup.

“That’s no way to treat a host,” Ais said, taking a generous sip of the moderately oversteeped tea.

“I thought I wasn’t a guest?”

Ais glanced at his cup, the floor pillows and the Soulless who seemed to enjoy your company more than his. He crouched down, meeting you at eye level. You flinched the moment his fingers made contact with your forehead. “You also thought I was a host.”

“Resorting to violence, already?” you giggled, rubbing your forehead. It differed from the crude laugh you let out when he told you about Ocudeus. This laugh was an endearing sing-songed melody that filled the empty spring with the same wonder and hope in your eyes. Ais’s own eyes lingered on the distinctly pink area of your skin.

“Answer the question, sparrow.”

Your laughter halted. The mirth fell from your face as quickly as it came. You coughed and cleared your throat, “I’ve been thinking about what you said last night.”

“Said a lot of things last night,” Ais said dryly. He made three bad impressions during your first encounter. Many things had gone awry last night at the Wet Wick. Would that be the fourth or fifth bad impression he’s made since meeting you? It was an average bar brawl for him, but not for a newcomer as soft as you were. He flexed his bandaged hand. Well, maybe you weren’t that soft.

“The thing you said about my curse… ‘Is the thought of living with it so unbearable?’”

“What about it?”

“I’ve been thinking about the things you said after that,” you paused to glance at him, but your eyes were quick to retreat back to your twiddled thumbs, “I’ve survived this far with it… but I don’t want others to suffer because of my curse.”

Ais’s lips morph into a visible frown, “So you want to take a drink.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Implied it.”

“I… want to find alternatives. Vere agreed to introduce me to some people from the Senobium.”

His frown deepened. You were bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for all the wrong reasons. Though he can’t say that he isn’t fond of your chirpier side. The people of Eridia were typically solemn, apprehensive or the occasional thorn in the flesh.

“The Senobium’s bad news,” he muttered. Ais’s crimson orbs glowered at the mention of the academy. You shrunk at the face of his deadly glare. “Seriously, sparrow.”

“It’s a little better than losing a bit of this,” you tapped the side of your temple, a gibe at the same gesture he used to explain the price of drinking from the spring.

“You’d be losing far more.”

“At least I won’t lose my shitty attitude.”.

You were always the one to roll your eyes— always annoyed, and short-tempered, but it was Ais’s turn to roll his eyes now. “You want to keep that of all things?”

“Yes, some people happen to like it,” you beamed, jabbing a finger at his side. Your touch was as light as a feather.

“I’m the only person who said that.”

“Verbally, yes, but I think others might like me too.”

“Oh? Like who?”

“Leander.”

A deep chuckle escaped Ais’s lips. He threw his head back with a rumble, his horns scraping against one of the wooden beams. The spring water swelled beneath him and his tea had run cold. Princess snorted as well.

“What’s so funny?” you asked, tilting your head.

“He’s friendly with everyone. Don’t let it get to your head.”

“It’s not getting to my head.”

Ais hummed nonchalantly, pouring himself a bit more tea. The contents of the teapot had also run cold, but the demon continued to drain every last drop of the murky liquid into his cup.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

He raised his cup, “Sorry. Did you want some?”

“Thanks, but no thanks. I should be going now.”

“So soon?”

Words ran out of his mouth before he could catch them, but you put your hand up, a futile attempt to stop them dead in their tracks. “I just wanted to let you know about my decision. I’d rather not keep you.”

And yet they kept running.

“Not like I got many things to do here,” Ais shrugged.

“I’ve got many things to do in Lowtown.”

Ais grunted and pushed himself off the ground. He smoothed his hands over his trousers, brushing off invisible crumbs. Then, he offered you a hand.

“We’ll walk you back.”

You checked your bandages before taking his hand. He squeezed your hand before pulling you up to your feet. You return the gesture, squeezing his own bandaged hand. The demon firmly squeezed your hand once again, as if he wanted the last laugh. Ais then turned his attention to Princess and whistled. At the signal, the Soulless rose to all fours. Her tendrils unfurled and coiled around his forearm as she trotted over to his side.

“Wanna go for a walk?” he cooed.

While Princess purred and her tail wagged rapidly, bewilderment washed over your face. You never heard Ais engage in baby talk. Few people have, but their expressions were always the same. A big, bad monster coddling another big, bad monster? How strange. How absurd!

“Oh, yes you do! Yes, you do!”

You burst into a fit of laughter again. Princess cocked her head, looking up at her owner for an answer. Ais shook his head and scratched her chin.

“I’m sorry,” you gasped between your giggles, “It’s just– ha– so silly!”

“Take your time, sparrow.”

“Sorry, sorry! I’m done now.” you said, wiping a single tear from the corner of your eye. Ais smirked. Sparrow sure was a fitting name for you– who always twittered in short, abrupt bursts.

“After you.”

He pulled you towards him with a languid tug of his arm. His large hands stiffly held yours as he guided you towards the Seaspring’s entrance. The warmth of his hands seeped through your bandages. Princess trailed behind you, prancing along the wooden panels. You stared into the crimson water, the rafters, the talismans on the wooden frames– things that haven’t changed since your last visit to the spring or perhaps for a long, long time. The water formed small waves unnaturally and other Soulless creatures held your stare with a watchful, famished gazes. Shuddering, you turned your attention back to Ais.

Sunlight traced the edges of the entrance and as you neared the opening, the soft yellow rays kissed Ais’s sharp features, highlighting his jaw, nose and horns. He squinted in the harsh lighting, bringing his other hand to shield his eyes. You drew the hood of your cloak up. Princess dashed past your reluctant figures and leaped straight into the sun’s embrace. She let out a bark that sounded like a meow and, much to Ais’s dismay, stomped her legs in the bog’s muddy waters, urging the both of you to continue walking.

“You heard the boss,” he pointed.

You nodded and followed Princess. She was several meters ahead. Still in sight, but far enough to not eavesdrop. Not that Soulless creatures could listen in on conversations. Even if they could, there would be nothing to note. No words were exchanged between you and Ais. Your hands were still intertwined. Ais stole glances at you while you were engrossed in the horizon where Eridia stood proud and tall. At this angle, it looked like the sun was balancing on top of the city’s highest point– the Senobium’s spire. His eyes narrowed. He could hardly understand why anyone wanted to go to such a gloomy place.

“Will you be at the Wet Wick tonight?” you asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

Ais clicked his tongue and averted his eyes to the side, “Depends.”

“Depends?”

“Might be there. Might not.”

“I see,” you smiled. Your eyes fixed themselves on the horizon and you both trudged across the mucky terrain in a stalemate of sounds. If the Soulless couldn’t find anything to note, perhaps crickets would.

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.

Ais pressed his lips together as the bartender poured his umpteenth glass of whiskey. He sighed. Ais had only known you for two days, but there was something about your response earlier that lacked the usual bite and spite you had. The hell did you mean by “I see”? Were you finally at ease with his presence? Were you simply relieved that he wasn’t going to be there tonight? Another bad impression? He shook his head. It didn’t matter what you thought of him. At the very least, you weren’t pissing yourself at the sight of him.

“Something on your mind?” Leander’s peart voice chimed in. He patted Ais on the back with a firm smack before he slung an arm around his broad shoulders. The demon glanced at him, raising a brow. He had one of those chewy shots in his hands again. Ais licked his fangs.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Leander put his hands up defensively, “I’m not trying to pry! You just… seem a bit glum over here… in the corner.” His voice trailed off at the latter half.

“No one to pick a fight with.”

“Well, there’s always some friendly arm wrestling matches here. Or maybe some tabletop card games?”

“You just don’t want to pay for everyone’s drinks again.”

“I could pay for your next one,” he offered.

Leander caught the glass in his hand when the bartender slid it over. He nodded at her and she seemed to have gotten the memo. Shouts erupted from the Bloodhounds by the door. Someone had scored in whatever game they were playing. The mage’s emerald eyes darted to his companions then back to Ais.

“Duty calls.”

After another pat on Ais’s back, Leander was gone as quickly as he came. He jumped onto a table in the center, chanted something, raising his chewy shot glass and the crowd joined him. Claps, stomps, and hollers. Looks like he’s paying for everyone’s drinks again after all. Ais raised his glass a beat later than the Bloodhounds. He didn’t clap, stomp or holler, but the occasion was something worth celebrating. Free whiskey was better than cheap booze.

Ice clinked as he set his glass down and wood creaked. Weird. He was familiar with the sound of wood crepitating, but that sound was reserved for the rafters in the Seaspring. The Wet Wick was home to the sound of wood breaking. If wood were to creak here, the only source would be that dilapidated door. Not from the roof.

Ais leaned back against the bar counter and turned his head upward, to the sound of creaking wood. And there you were– standing on the stair landing, leaning against the railing. He tipped his head further back. You craned your neck, bringing your face closer to his, albeit at an awkward perpendicular angle. You smiled like you had struck gold. Your hair tickled his cheeks. He never paid any mind to the Wet Wick’s second floor, but he made a note to remember it now. The stairwell was also dilapidated.

“Evening, sparrow.”

“I take it you were in the mood to come?”

“Drinks were on Leander.”

“I see.”

There it was again. That damned “I see”. What the hell did you see? His eyes flickered over to your figure which was no longer cloaked. Your hair was disheveled, hands still covered like a maiden, and a yawn gracing your features as you approached the bar stool beside him. He saw something, alright.

“Sleep well?”

“Like a corpse.”

“That tired, huh?”

“I had a lot of errands to run today.”

You lunged forward and reached for a beer stein, a pitcher of water and a bottle of fruit wine behind the counter and poured yourself a helping amount of each into the mug. The barmaid paid no mind to you or your bizarre concoction. She continued polishing glasses as if you were a trick of the light. She must’ve seen combinations far more peculiar than diluted wine in a mug.

Ais swirled his whiskey, “Got a side hustle, already?”

“I guess you could say that. I’ve been taking some odd jobs. Information is worth its weight in gold here and I need information more than anything. Of course… you’d already know that,” you said, placing your hand onto your cheek.

“Hard not to know when you keep pestering me for some.”

“Not anymore! You can keep your spring secrets.”

“There were no secrets. Told you everything you needed to know.”

“Yeah, in the vaguest way possible,” you deadpanned.

“Did you not learn anything at all here?”

“Excuse me?”

There was the bite and spite you had. He was starting to miss it. He worried you’d pick up some of the insipid Hightown mannerisms, but it was for naught. You were still the spitfire. Ais smirked, “You just said information was worth its weight in gold. I know none of your secrets yet you keep asking for mine.”

You frowned at a loss for words. He was right. Though, you didn’t have anything to share that was worth even a sliver of copper. Nothing interesting. Nothing groundbreaking. Nothing that would turn a few heads. Save for your curse, but Ais figured that your curse laid in your molten hands from just a glimpse so that was off the table.

“What would you like to know?” you asked, silently resigned.

“Nothing.”

“Then why did you make a big fuss about secrets?”

Ais’s smile reached his ears. Your voice was nearing a shout. A rosy tint crept up your cheeks. The bar was dull in terms of entertainment on the weekdays– no roughnecks or angry sleazers– but seeing you worked up was a sight for sore eyes.

“You called the kettle black. Kettle’s gotta retaliate.”

“What if I want to know more about the kettle?”

“Thought you were done with the spring.”

“I am, but I want to know more about you.”

Your smile matched his, reaching ear to ear or higher if Ais’s eyes didn’t deceive him. The demon hummed, fiddling with his silver pendant that dangled by his sternum. He was feigning deliberation, but you leaned in on his sea-glass colored bicep, humming along. A sweet harmony to contrast his timbre, ushering him to a conclusion.

“Shoot,” Ais grinned.

“Why don’t you live in the city?” You pushed yourself off his arm. Your curious eyes leveled with his.

“Don’t think people here like my pets much.”

The Bloodhounds seemingly roared in affirmation. Another point scored in their vapid game. Timing was great. Ais swirled his whiskey again. Its amber color mellowed out to a muted brownish-yellow. The ice had melted.

“You live out there for your pets? Isn’t it lonely?”

“My pets are good company and… I go out at night.”

“If you feel like it.”

“Especially if I feel like it.”

“So it’s not that lonely out there?”

“Being alone and being lonely are two different things, sparrow.”

“I’ll take that as a no.”

“Is that what you think?.”

“So yes?” you tried again.

He shook his head. You opened your mouth and formed a slight “O” shape before closing it. Ais propped his head onto his knuckles and continued, “Can’t be alone or lonely with my pets and my friend.” He tapped his temple. You rolled your eyes.

“Your friend talks?”

“‘Course they do.”

He let your snickers slip past his sharp ears. You still thought he had a screw loose up there despite him being dead serious. You, on the other hand, were dying from disbelief and laughter, but it didn’t matter if you believed him or not. If he showed you, you’d be as aimless as the Soulless or worse– pronounced as dead. Fortunately for you, he reserved Ocudeus for special once-in-a blue-moon occasions and tonight was a new moon… so he’ll play along with you. Yeah, he’s got an imaginary friend. They hit up the bar every other night and have a grand old time. The sea-glass ink that snaked around his arm was a matching tattoo with a drinking buddy whose name had long been forgotten.

“What about you? Curse aside, why are you in Eridia?” Ais asked once your hysterics simmered down.

“I’m only here because of my curse,” you replied coolly.

“Going home after you’re cured?”

You blinked. Once. Twice. Thrice. Ais’s eyes never left you– like a vulture waiting on your last breath. Looks like he hit the nail on the head. Not that it was hard to miss. You were easy to read. If his heart was on his sleeve, yours was on a platter.

“I guess not.”

“No family?”

“Something like that.”

“So you’re a runaway,” he reckoned.

Your eyes fell to the table and then to Ais’s metal-clad fingers which were drumming on the wooden surface.

“Got it wrong?”

“No, I mean, you were spot on. Intuition’s good.”

“Thanks. Got it from my friend.”

“Pft– does your friend know anything else about me?”

“You’re good company,” Ais said.

“Oh yeah?”

“Bites and barks the same amount. Terrible taste in drinks, but you hold a decent conversation so… that makes up for it.”

“I’ll have you know that my tas– hic!”

Your hands were quick to clamp over your mouth. Muffled “hics” periodically bypassed your bandaged fingers despite your vain efforts. Beside you, Ais was doing his darndest to maintain a neutral expression. His lips were pressed together tightly as if all of his teeth would fall out if he were to open his mouth.

Hic. Hic. Hic.

Ais had failed. A snort filled your ears. You shot him the deadliest glare you could muster, but it had no effect on him. His smirk was as smug as always. He locked eyes with you, taking your cup and filling it with water from a nearby pitcher. Maybe with a little too much water. The contents sloshed around the rim and splashed onto the table once he set it down.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

He gestured at the mug, “Need to be fed too?”

Your lips curved upward beneath your hands, shaking your head “no”. Ais motioned at the cup once again. This time, you obliged. You lowered your bandaged fingers and wrapped them around the mug. Excess water leaked into the gauze as you gulped down half the pint in hopes of quelling your antsy diaphragm.

“You a lightweight?”

“Didn’t drink much back home.” You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. The hiccups seemed to have subsided. You exhaled in relief and hoped that your embarrassment hadn’t traveled too far up your cheeks.

“No one to drink with?”

“More like… I didn’t go out much.”

“Good thing you’re free as a bird now.”

You smiled, “Yeah, I can go anywhere I want.”

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.

Ais pinched the bridge of his nose as the gutter above his head pelted him with cold droplets of water. Stormy clouds invited themselves to Eridia over the course of the night, but they couldn’t decide whether they wanted to rain or not. They sprinkled a bit of rain here and some there, but showers never lasted more than five minutes. Even a man past his prime could last longer than these “storms”. The demon sidestepped the gutter and set his foot straight into a puddle. He scowled.

A little water didn’t hurt Ais. In fact, he liked the rain… just not when he was cradling a flimsy paper bag filled with gourmet dog biscuits. He would rather have shrimp cocktails for breakfast, lunch, and dinner than to make another trip to Hightown and talk to that snobby baker again.

…Maybe that was a stretch. His Soulless pets deserved the best and Ais would rather bite his own tongue than let seafood get anywhere near his mouth. One shrimp cocktail was enough for a lifetime. Dealings with an elitist dragged on for only a few minutes. Seconds if Ais skipped their hoity-toity pleasantries and opted to use his fists instead– a thought he entertained from time to time after one too many “please” and “thank you's”. It was more or less an intrusive thought, a controlled impulse. Ais was more than happy to wipe the disdain off that baker’s face with a solid punch, but then Princess wouldn’t have any fancy treats for when she was on her best behavior. He clicked his tongue. For her, he would be on his best behavior too.

The sun peaked out from the ashen clouds, shining a bit of light onto Ais’s path as if the sky was seeking penance for ruining his early morning shopping trip. He turned his head. He stared too long again. Even if shrouded by clouds, the sun was always there. Nothing special. His hurried steps padded the cobblestone road with a steady rhythm. His back faced the pearly bridge that connected Hightown to Lowtown. Ais adjusted the bag in his arms as he made his way through the maze of flood-eroded buildings.

Highborn nobles would be appalled at the sight of Lowtown, but this was Ais’s turf. No pleasantries. People here were blunt enough to let the money talk. Business was business. No “please” or “thank you’s”. You only needed to pay. If you didn’t want to pay, you exchanged information or goods. A brawl also doubled as a negotiation. A shame folks here were scared shitless of the Soulless.

Hu. Tu. Du, du, du, du.

Ais stopped. His crimson eyes casted their gaze to an alleyway that bisected the deserted Lowtown street that led to the spring and the lively Amaryllis District. He spun his heel and looked up at the gilded buildings of Hightown then back to the alleyway. A detour wouldn’t hurt. The Amaryllis District was closer to the bog than that bakery was. Besides, he hadn’t been there in a while. A change of pace was much needed.The walk home would be less lonely too. The district never slept.

La, du, du, du, du.

This tune…

The Seaspring was home to a few, repetitive sounds: The blood-red waters dripping and rippling from seepage, the purrs and growls of the Soulless and hushed whispers. When one ventured out to the Wet Wick, they, too, heard a few, repetitive sounds: alcohol being poured and measuredly sipped, the shouts and hollers of those who had one too many drinks, and faint murmurs.

There was not much of a difference in terms of sound between the spring and the city (save for Hightown’s polite contempt for commotion and the entertainment district’s hustle and bustle) but Ais knew a sparrow’s song when he heard one. He was sure of it– not that he was a musical prodigy or any sort. The song was unfamiliar, but he knew the sound of your voice. He never took you for a singer, but he also didn’t take you for a lightweight. He bet you never took him for the type to spoil his pets rotten either.

He smirked as he squeezed himself through the narrow passage.

A flurry of colors greeted him at the end of the tunnel like a gust of wind. Cerulean and coral lanterns strung themselves from building to building. Booths lined the street with an array of pastel tents. The avenue was nothing short of paintings, artisan goods, hand-crafted trinkets and gadgets. Street food vendors were also up and running, undeterred by the untimely hour. The elephant in the room was a large shell-pink tent sat in the middle of the plaza. People flocked and filed themselves around a ticket booth. The sign by the entrance read something along the lines of “troupe”. The fuss rushed past Ais, failing to rope him in.

His main attraction was a lone stall several paces to his right. The stand was further from its competitors, but it was as busy as any other booth in the district. Tables and benches lined its perimeter. Most of them were occupied. Some had wax candles and pressed flowers while others had glass and frayed paint brushes. Ais scanned the area and smiled, eyes landing on a bench in the corner. It was you, alright. The tune you were humming increased in volume as he tip-toed towards your table. Your back was facing him, immersed in your art project. Your hood was drawn up as well, but he caught sight of your bandages. You were trying to be discreet, but you stood out like a sore thumb to him. The Amaryllis District was vivacious and colorful. Even the air smelled colorful. You, on the other hand, were as ominous as a disciple of death– black cloak, half of your features shrouded by a cowl, and hands wrapped in gauze. And you had the gall to call the Seaspring creepy? The superstitious folks would’ve believed you if you came knocking on their door one day and told them their time was up.

But as luck would have it, Ais never bought into that sort of bullshit. And you were scary as a rabbit. Mischief spread across his face.

He pulled your hood down, earning a squeaky yelp from you. His hand was quick to clamp over your mouth, but nevertheless, a couple of heads turned– including yours.

“Easy. It’s just me.”

You nodded and pulled your hood back up with a huff. He removed his hand from your mouth, barely dodging the daggers you glared at him. He grinned.

“Top o’ the morning to you too, sparrow.”

You cocked your head. Ais put a hand behind his neck and cleared his throat. His gaze averted yours.

“Learned something last week. Means good morning.”

“Couldn’t you just say ‘good morning’?” you muttered.

“Gets boring.”

You rolled your eyes and returned to the glass bottle in your hand. It was short and stout, snuggly fit into your palm. He peered over your shoulder and caught a glimpse of a trio of birds flying over an ocean that was a work in progress. He frowned, realizing your little work song had ceased. He set his dog biscuits by your paint palette. You raised an eyebrow at the paper bag.

“For Princess,” he explained.

“Has she been well?”

“The good-est girl.”

“And you?”

“The good-est boy.”

“The best,” you joked.

Ais rested his head on the base of his palm and watched you add strokes of blue to your ocean. It was a shade darker than the other blues. It reminded him of Mhin’s cape. He grimaced. It reminded him of one of those rare nights in Eridia where the skies were clear enough to see the stars. His eyes trailed up to the stormy clouds. He won’t be seeing any stars anytime soon. When Ais turned his attention back to you, you had moved onto a lighter blue.

“You an artist?”

“Dabbled in it.”

“How ‘bout a singer?”

“I don’t sing.”

“Could’ve sworn you just were.”

“You misheard,” you said with finality.

“Did not.” He paused, then added, “Got sharp ears.” Ais pointed to his ears. They were indeed sharp– as most of his features were. Perhaps the only thing that wasn’t sharp about him was the ink on his arms.

He was met with silence and took it as an invitation to continue prodding at you.

“Okay then do you hum?”

Your lips were taut. Your brows knitted together in contemplation. Then, they relaxed. Ais smiled as you reluctantly nodded. The movement was incredibly subtle. If he blinked, he would’ve missed his prize..

“It sounded nice.”

“You think?” Your back straightened.

“Yeah, could’ve taken you for a performer here.”

“Now you’re just flattering me.”

“Honest, sparrow.”

“I thought about it before… back home… being a performer– even an artist,” you gestured at your glass with your paintbrush, "But I had… another role to play.”

You tucked your hair behind your ear and swapped the blue paint out for an off-white color, sketching sea foam onto your ocean waves. A secret was on the tip of your tongue.

“Not anymore though, right?”

You nodded. Free as a bird, you thought. You angled the glass to finish up some details. You were by no means talented. It was nothing worth auctioning or featuring in a gallery, but it was something you enjoyed, something you hoped to improve at. You found yourself coming to this booth more often than you’d like to admit. The owner knew your face and you had a collection of painted glass bottles tucked away in your room at the Wet Wick.

“Do you come here often?” you asked, changing the subject.

“Only to see a friend.”

You turned your head to the building with pink curtains. His eyes narrowed.

“Not like that, sparrow.”

“You were misleading,” you shrugged.

“This district’s alright. Too perfumy though,” Ais elaborated. A philanderer was not going on his mental tally of bad impressions on you. He’d like to keep the numbers at a humble three or four. He had causal relationships in the past, but not to that extent. It’s been a while too so it didn't count. That title was more suitable for other people. He could name a few off the top of his head, but he’ll do you a solid favor and keep those names to himself.

“You don’t come here often because of the smell–”

“Too strong on the nose.” He tapped his nose for good measure.

“When you live by a swamp?” You finished.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“The water smells… strange there. It’s not like the river here.”

He knew what you meant. He knew the smell. He was certain you did too. You knew that smell all too well, considering you were welcomed by it on your first day in this city. It followed you as much as it followed him. Neither of you said a thing. Not a word or a whisper. A topic like that matched the somber skies, but clashed with the vitality of the arts and entertainment district.

“Smells fine to me.”

“That’s because you live by it!”

Ais smirked.

Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop. Drip. Drip.

Those pesky gray clouds have finally decided to cry their eyes out after two days of dilly dallying in the sky, submerging Lowtown with their tears. The ramshackle districts of Eridia were no stranger to floods. It was something the people had grown used to, looked forward to even. Floods may destroy a few buildings or dent a couple of roofs, but they also wash away the pungent smell of blood and death. The downpour was so strong that the Soulless avoided the city. The people were free to wander about at night, albeit with a few limitations. There was not a single booth set up in the Amaryllis District. It was the only time the plaza got a wink of sleep. Well, most of the district. A handful of lights were still on and all pink curtains were drawn, a sign they could go all night long if they wanted to– rain or shine. That wasn’t the case for most stores in Lowtown. Most closed when the downpour began, but bars were open and that was all that mattered to Ais.

It was when Eridia rained that he simultaneously felt the most alone and the most at home. The flooded streets were akin to the Seaspring’s waters, but there was not a single soul in sight. He waded through the murky waters with unease. The rain turned the city into his domain. He was fond of it for many reasons, but it did not do what many Eridians loved about it the most: wash away unbearable stenches. Petrichor masked the smell of death, but it was prevalent nonetheless. Something lurked in these waters, waiting to be reaped. Or perhaps Ais’s intuition was off? His senses had been haywire for the past few days. He found himself looking over his shoulder to see if someone was behind him. Heat rushed to his usually cold cheeks. His heart raced even though he barely moved an inch. The rain started not too long ago so was it a long shot to say that not everything was washed out yet?

Splash!

Ais whipped his neck around, observing the Wet Wick’s alleyway. Blood spewed from the narrow pathway and coiled around his boots. It swirled and dissolved into the flood water congregating by the Wet Wick’s entrance. He cracked his knuckles and made his way to the alleyway. Even the rain couldn’t stop a good bar brawl. The victor of that fight was a worthy adversary if they could draw blood. Even if they weren’t, he was getting restless anyhow. Throwing a punch or two and knocking someone would be an easy fix for that. Talk about exciting.

Thud!

His grin faded as he stepped into the alleyway. His eyes dilated at the sight of Vere pining a cloaked figure to the wall with his bare hands. Blood spilled on the wall, dripping down into the flood water. Ais knew that cloak a little too well. It was black and embroidered with little bits of gold at the hem. He saw it a few times. At the Seaspring. At the Wet Wick. At the Amaryllis District.

He could count the number of times he saw that cloak on his hands, but the amount of times it plagued his thoughts every now and then exceeded the number stars in the sky– When will you visit Princess again? What kind of weird drink will you have next time? Would he be able to hear that song again?

The same cloak that festered in his mind was now saturated with blood. Despite the ebony fabric, there was enough blood in certain areas to dye it red. Your torso. Your legs. Your head. Though shrouded by a hood as always, your cowl was the deepest of crimsons. It was tantamount to the thick red waters of the spring.

Vere was the first– and perhaps the only one– to notice Ais. He furrowed his auburn brows and dropped your body onto the ground. An audible thump echoed through the alley yet you remained still, blood pooling and pooling.

“Fancy meeting you here.”

Ais responded with silence. His eyes lingered on you. He hoped for you to chirp and twitter about something. Curse or bite someone if you must.

“Senobium’s orders,” Vere said, tossing his hair over his shoulder, “They were snooping around too much and… you know how that goes.”

"...I see." Two meaningless words that added nothing to the conversation, something he picked up from you. He never truly grasped the meaning of the phrase– he always thought of it as a sarcastic response– but "I see" seemed suitable to use for this specific situation. The scene before Ais was truly something and damn right he saw. He saw enough to know everything.

Vere's dusty pink eyes fell to his feet where blood accumulated. His ears drooped as he stepped away from your body. If he had put his tail between his legs, he could’ve fooled anyone. His shoulder brushed Ais’s on his way out of the alley. “We should head inside. My fur’s getting soaked.”

The demon balled his fists, words flying over his head. He sauntered deeper into the pathway and knelt down by your side. The bar’s dilapidated door creaked open and then shut, briefly shining on your marred face. There was not a single fleck of wonder or hope in your eyes. They were dull and gray like the stormy sky above you.

“I told you the Senobium was bad news, sparrow,” Ais smiled bitterly.

Rain trickled down his face, hot and briny. He smelt the stench of death before. He had seen disfigured bodies in the bog and drew blood during fights. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, but somehow he could not bear to look at you or your mangled neck for any longer. He was getting tired of the rain already. He was tired of kneeling by your side. With a dejected sigh, Ais stood up.

Clink!

He clicked his tongue and lifted his boot up, revealing a shard of glass. Curious, he knelt down again, examining the shattered glass around your body. Must’ve been that bottle you painted the other day. Ais could barely make out the pieces, but he saw the various shades of blue you used. His eyes shifted to a rather large fragment by his boot. Unlike the other bits of glass, this one was yellow-orange with a small black line, the silhouette of a bird flying into the sun. Ais stomped on the fragment, crushing the painted sun beneath his feet as one would with a cigarette butt. He rose from the ground and turned his back to you, but instead of entering the bar, he ventured out into the storm.

Then maybe, just maybe, he, too, could be swept away by the rain.

#touchstarved game #touchstarved x reader #touchstarved ais #ais x reader #mine #mine:writing #angst

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lordoftherazzles · 1 year

Text

BODYGUARD AU ↳ GOLDEN HEARTS BLEED FASTER

Summary: Bilbo Baggins, Prince of the Shire, has been left with a kingdom on his back and a ring in his hand after the unexpected death of his parents. Bodyguard Thorin Oakenshield has been brought in to see to the prince’s safety, and do a little investigating of his own on the matter in hopes of coming face to face with the one who turned his mountain, and his life, upside down a few years prior.

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How many times now had Bilbo warded off the waves of sympathies and condolences? It was all the same from each person, just a different face and voice conveying the genuinely kind words. He didn’t want to hear it anymore.

While his eyes had remained dry and his emotions in check, the day surrounding him had been anything but. The outside drizzle and gloomy clouds had set a damn near perfect tone for a funeral, and yet Bilbo never once seemed to fit the backdrop, aside from maybe his attire. The dark fitting garb that was quickly being shed at this exact moment once the funeral had come to a close, and he was escorted back to the palace entryway.

“I’m fine,” Bilbo protested once more, and this time with more force to his voice than he liked. “You don’t need to worry about me, I can take care of myself. I don’t see why everyone is making such a fuss about all of this.” Gandalf wasn’t the first person nipping at his heels in regard to his safety, or his behavior, but he was the one who had stuck around the longest.

“Belladonna and Bungo Baggins’ death is nothing to take lightly, Bilbo,” Gandalf chided, his brows furrowing and the lines on his face seeming extra deep with his displeasure. “You will do well to remember that.”

“I’m not making light, but I’m also not going to obsess over something that’s not there. It was ruled an accident, and that’s what I choose to believe,” Bilbo huffed while sliding out of his suit jacket and shaking off the rain water. He knew Gandalf meant well, after all, he had been one of the closest friends this family had. Naturally he would keep an eye out for the head of the Baggins household, and next in line for the throne. “Everything will be fine. If…a little quiet.”

“Insist all you like, but I am still under the impression that you need someone to watch over you–” holding up a hand to silence the younger man before he ever protested again, Gandalf cleared his throat and began to backpedal towards the doorway. “I’ve already taken the liberty of making some arrangements. Your parents wanted me to look out for you, and I can’t be here every waking moment to ensure you don’t do something silly.”

Watching with disinterest as Gandalf waved his hand to beckon someone forward, Bilbo quirked a brow and folded his arms, tapping his foot in annoyance. “So what, you hired me a babysitter? I’m an adult, and besides, this place already has security out the ass. What’s so special about–” The words clogged Bilbo’s throat, and his jaw snapped firmly shut as a suit-clad man with the bluest eyes he’d ever seen stepped in. There wasn’t an ounce of emotion on his face as he stood next to Gandalf with his hands behind his back. Bilbo just took a moment to let it all soak in as his own stance seemed to relax.

“Humor an old man, Bilbo, and let him watch over you for a time. I would be beside myself if something happened to you,” Gandalf pleaded with a pained smile gracing his lips, stepping aside to usher Bilbo forward–not that the young prince needed any direction.

“I mean, what’s the harm?” Bilbo shrugged as he had stepped forward, leaning on his toes before beginning to slowly circle the taller man whose eyes had locked onto him at some point. “If only to humor an old man, of course.” Letting his eyes rove over that suit and every inch the seams hugged, there was something delightfully delicious in this arrangement Gandalf was making, wasn’t there? “So, this is my bodyguard, then?”

“Far better than a glorified babysitter, I assure you.”

Humming and nodding in agreement with Gandalf’s words, Bilbo finally came to a halt in front of Mister Blue-Eyes, tilting his head and tapping at the side of his chin in thought with one more drop of his gaze as a smirk crawled across his lips. “I like what I see.” Meeting those blue eyes, there was something undeniably furious within them, just as there was a soft dusting of rose across the other’s cheekbones. It didn’t negate the danger in those blues, and Bilbo had an itch to play with a little fire today.

Okay, maybe Gandalf’s worries about silly behavior weren’t completely unwarranted.

Gandalf chuckled, bringing no attention to Bilbo’s current behavior in ogling his newfound source of safety. “He is experienced in this line of work, and can probably teach you a thing or two about what to expect once you’re crowned.”

“And does he have a name? Or speak, for that matter? Or is this one of those ‘pretend he’s not there’ cases, much like a shadow?” Reaching a hand up to straighten out the other’s tie, a hand quickly grasped at Bilbo’s wrist, and tightly. “I have a feeling you bite.”

“Thorin,” came the hissed word from between the teeth of one Thorin Oakenshield as he shoved Bilbo’s hand away. “And it’ll be in your best interest to keep your hands to yourself, Mister Baggins.”

“Not very polite, is he?” Bilbo snorted, rubbing at his wrist and taking a step back to give this Thorin some space. “You can take it easy, Killer, I’m just teasing you.”

“I’m sure you’ll find him suitable company, don’t worry.” Gandalf’s eyes locked with Thorin’s with a bit of a plea in them, and much to his relief, Thorin’s shoulders relaxed a little. “Mister Oakenshield here is your protection, and I advise you treat him as such.”

“Of course, you wouldn’t set me up with a deadbeat plaything, after all.” Bowing his head slightly, and putting on a little more decorum, Bilbo simply smiled, pushing up the glasses on his nose once he rose back. “I look forward to getting to know you, Mister Oakenshield. Would you like a tour of the place?”

“Not really–”

“Give us a moment, Bilbo, and then I’m sure Thorin would love the tour.” Grinning, Gandalf gave the universal shoo motion towards the prince in the room, who reluctantly shoved his hands in his pockets and began to drift to the farthest side of the entryway.

“You can’t honestly expect me to deal with this, Gandalf?” Thorin hissed under his breath, finally moving from his once stationary position to keep the conversation between him and the one who had brought him here. “I will not bend to the likes of him.”

“That–that was not the intent, Thorin, this is strictly business–”

“I meant business!” A more potent shade of red took over Thorin’s cheeks as he dared to cast a glance over his shoulder to the curly haired prince who was twirling some sort of gold band between his fingers aimlessly. “Surely this has to be a mistake?”

“Belladonna and Bungo Baggins’ deaths were no accident, I am sure of it. I fear for him, Thorin, someone went through an awful lot of trouble to put him in this situation. I have theories…and if they are correct, this is one you will want to be a part of,” Gandalf assured lowly, clapping Thorin on the shoulder. “You know as well as I do that precious treasure can make a man do unthinkable things.”

This caused Thorin to pause, his eyes dropping and a falter in his stance as he shifted uncomfortably. The wheels in his head were grinding in agitation, but also in memory of what he himself had witnessed in his years. “Do you truly think he is involved?” The one that Thorin had been after for years now, but never gotten a chance to come face to face with.

“I do. This wouldn’t be the first royal family he’s laid waste to, would it? I owe not only the Baggins family to figure this out, but to yo–”

“Fine. I’ll deal with it, for now,” Thorin interrupted.

“Give it some time, I promise he isn’t nearly as impish once you get to know him. His mother was once a fierce young thing too.” Gazing over at Bilbo and sporting a more cheerful expression, Gandalf gave Thorin’s shoulder a gentle nudge. “You two get acquainted, I am going to step outside for a quick call and will rejoin you later. And Thorin?” Dropping his tone low for the retreating Oakenshield to hear only, Gandalf’s chipper demeanor washed away as quickly as it had come. “Let’s keep the details of this between us for now.”

Nodding in understanding, Thorin braced himself as he stepped up to the young royal–perhaps only a few years his junior–who was waiting for his company in what looked like anticipation. “Mister Baggins.”

“Come, I’ll show you around, and we’ll find you a place to stay for when you don’t have your eyes glued to me at all hours of the day.” A cheeky grin spread across Bilbo’s lips as he nudged his elbow into Thorin’s. “Unless you want to keep your eyes on me at night–” a flash of Thorin’s fierce glare had Bilbo raising his hands in surrender. “Just teasing, remember.” Bilbo’s sing-song voice sounded off teasingly. Or was he? Definitely not. If it kept Thorin from snapping his jaw like a rabid dog in his direction, then Bilbo could insist he was just teasing until his parents crawled out of their respective graves.

This was going to be fun, Bilbo could tell already. Normally he was used to getting his way, what with his status and all as Prince of the Shire, but this suited man seemed unmoved, though not completely unaffected. That was the fun part, witnessing the discomfort and the flushing beneath his scrutiny. But if it helped soothe a few of Gandalf’s frayed nerves in the process as well…what was the harm? It’d been a long time since someone new graced Bag End’s palace walls and given Bilbo something else to focus on.

Something that wasn’t wrapped around the tragedy that was the deaths of his parents and the precious treasure they left behind.

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