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reverie-verse · 1 month

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Azriel x Reader: The Bond of a Century

An old request that I decided to revamp

Request prompt: Can I request an Azriel x reader where the mating bond snaps for Azriel but not the reader? Kind of like how Feyra didn’t know Rhys was her mate till she was told.

My prompt: A bond forgotten for over a century and a half makes its way back to the forefront. All of it starts with Rhys asking for a favor.

This is a fluffy, steamy, angst-ish fic

I hope you enjoy!!!! My requests are open!!!

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This was the last thing you thought you would be doing for Rhys. Out of all the things, this-this is what he chose for you to do. Rhys had a sick twisted mind that put you in a situation you had no desire of being in or a part of. You mentally cursed at the high lord, hating him in the moment even though he was your dearest friend. Elain scoured the city for certain pots for her plants, and certain seeds for her garden. Azriel right by her side and you trailing behind them. All you wanted to do was to go back to your home near the docks. It was the first home you had when you first moved from Dawn to Velaris less than a century ago, but with some convincing Rhys and Feyre were able to get you to stay at the town house. It was only then did her sisters arrive, and at some point you were put to the task of keeping an eye on Elain with the occasional visit of Az. Honestly you wished you could train with Nesta, but Cassian was chosen for that task. You wouldn’t have minded living in the house of wind-“ I think I need to go to Day Court or maybe Spring,Oh perhaps we go to Dawn instead. They must have better pots.” Elain speaks more to Azriel than she does you. You were eyeing the various shops, and the people delighted to be around you, each grinning and waving at you. Another beautiful thing about Velaris you’d come to love. People were kind here.

Azriel smiled softly at her “ Of course, if that’s what you want” his voice was tender and sweet. You fought the urge to roll your eyes, turning your attention elsewhere. You hated being there dealing with this shit, but Rhys insisted you tag along, “It’s good for the soul. Get some fresh air” with that insane cat-like smirk. Ooo you shoot daggers into your mind, a deep chuckle echoing in the background.

“ Yes that’s what I want, thank you Az” Elain returned the gesture.

“ Alright then I’ll let Rhys and Feyre know-“ You say as you pinched a flower petal between your thumb and index finger. You looked away from it then back at them. The two watched you with curiosity, you let go of the petal. It was no simple task, an easy reminder of what you needed to do and a simple approval came from Rhys. A gentle poke in your mind causes you to shake your head.“-Let's get this over with” You take steps towards them placing your hands on their arms you effortlessly winnow the three of you to Dawn. The landing was gentle and less sickening, the three of you placed in a Market, one that you were familiar with.. Elain squealed with excitement as she rushed over to an area where she had seen fresh flowers, a few shops down could be seen a pottery shop, the two of you already trailing her.

“ Look at this beautiful bouquet! Y/N? Should we get this for the town house?” She gestures to the bouquet filled with many vibrant colors, various shapes and sizes. You were stumped, she normally doesn’t ask you these questions most of the time they were directed at Az.

“They look lovely Elain, I’m sure they’ll fit anywhere you put them..” You replied not really sure how to respond. Honestly you’ve never really thought about what flowers you liked or didn’t . It wasn’t something that was ever given to you, nor something you found and immediately fell in love with. You didn’t have anything against anyone who knew what they liked, you just-never had the experience of looking forward to your own set of plants. Even when you first attempted gardening most of your plants and flowers died, you simply didn’t have the skill or the eye for it..but that was okay, though on rare occasions it was something you wished you had..

Elain smiles awkwardly “ Well, maybe we can get it, it might brighten up the home. Make it seem more natural..comfortable” She pulls out her coins, handing it to the shopkeeper. The three of you move further heading over to the pottery shop that she explained earlier how she wanted to visit. Your eyes searched the area, checking for predators, anyone who might cause harm to the high lady’s sister, before entering the shop. You had other plans that you needed to attend to while the two looked around, it was in the midst of Elains discussion, mostly to Azriel about the various styles of pottery, that you planned to sneak off. It was only then did a voice capture your attention from behind you.

“ Y/N, I must admit I never pegged as you someone who might be interested in pottery” Thesan, high lord of Dawn, speaks out, the entire shop haunting their work to bow at his presence. He waved his hand dismissing them easily back to work. Azriel positions himself so that he stands near you with Elain behind him, she peers her head out, trying to see who it was that spoke so elegantly. A small smile graces your features at that familiar voice you knew so well as you shifted to face Thesan, who was already grinning. Azriel didn’t miss it, taking note of it.

“What if I was?” You retorted,

“ Then that would be a surprise”

“I hate to burst your bubble High Lord but I’m here on business not for pleasure” You replied, the two of you sharing a small laugh together. Azriel forced his expression into neutrality, Elains eyes sparkled with curiosity and intrigue. Thesan looks behind you for a moment, taking in the Shadowsinger and the woman next to him.

“ Ouch, that one hurt Y/N, I see you brought friends, Shadowsinger” Thesan greets civilly no hate present.

“ Thesan,” Azriel gives a simple head nod in his direction, there was no need for malice, Thesan had always been a great friend of Rhys’s and now apparently yours. Though a feeling crept inside his chest, this odd feeling takes root, Azriel does his best to shove it away, especially with Elain right next to him..

“ And you must be Elain, one of the sisters of High Lady Night.”

“ Yes I am. It’s a pleasure to meet you” Elain smiles with a blush that creeps along her cheeks. She wasn’t sure how to respond being that a high lord, whom she never met knew she existed. The surrealness of the situation becomes a reality, the more she realizes how well known her sister is, how well known both of her sisters are including herself. A delighted yet astonishing experience for her, something she wasn’t used to yet.

“ Same to you, i hope you don’t mind if I borrow Y/N for a moment or two, there’s somethings I’d like to discuss” Thesan offered but secretly it was a meeting that needed to take place. You were in fact here on business, something that Rhys specifically shared with you and no one else. Dawn used to be your home, but when you were moved to Velaris, you became the seg way for Dawn and Night. Your job was to be the emissary for both sides, keeping the courts relationship in even better shape. You missed your home dearly at times, and you missed Thesan whom you were extremely close too, and who you cared about, even with this being only for business there was some pleasure that came out of it.

“ No of course not, I’m sure she could use a break from us, right Azriel?” Elain looks up to him but his eyes were trained on you and Thesan. You were ready to join him without so much as another word, it struck a nerve in him, why? What could possibly be the topic of conversation between you two? Why do you only need to speak with him? Surely Rhys would’ve told him what this meeting was about? Why hadn’t you come to him for advice or as a second set of ears? Why was the meeting a secret?-“Azriel?”Elain calls out to him, you were looking at him suspiciously, your eyebrows furrowed, your eyes flickering across every part of his face and bodily language. Azriel adjusts himself, shielding off whatever thoughts or feelings he harbored in the moment. He blinks, his eyes drift back to Elain then back to you and Thesan “ Go ahead, we’ll be here in the shop if you need us, we leave in about two hours”

“ Alright then I will have my men escort the two of you back to my palace.” Thesan replied, You eased the questioning look off your face, you shift back towards Thesan, the two of you walking out of the shop, the conversation immediately flowed. He could see the smile on your face, and yet again the melodic sound of laughter that left your lips. The high lords' guards remained in place while Azriel and Elain both continued their shopping. However, that didn’t stop him from taking one last look out the door.

When the two hours were up, Azriel and Elain were guided securely to the Palace where he’d find you and Thesan walking along the hall. Thesan stopped in his tracks grabbing your arm, it forces you to halt in place, your body halfway facing him. His mouth moves but Azriel can’t hear what he’s saying, he lifts a hand to your face gently swiping at your cheek. He removes his hand, pulling you gently into a tight embrace. Azriel could see the way you held onto him tightly, as if you dared to let go. The two of you stayed in that position for a few moments until you both eventually pulled away. Why were you crying? Were you hurting? Were they happy tears? Did he say something to you? What was it? There were too many emotions to pinpoint, Azriel’s chest continued to tighten at the emotions he felt. You left Thesans' side offering him one last smile, but that smile fades, when you approach them.

“It’s time, are you ready?” You ask softly, your demeanor changed, a bit relaxed but a heavy weight stays on your shoulders. You roll them back, adjusting yourself. Azriel watches you with such careful eyes, you paid no mind, your thoughts elsewhere.

“ Yes-“ Elain starts but her gaze flickers back and forth between you both. For Elain it was rather odd to see the two of you interact, when she had met you, your relationship with Azriel was already thin, you were distant with him compared to everyone else. Elain assumed that your relationship had always been like that, but now she wasn’t so sure..

“ Are you alright?” Azriel asks you, his hand twitches slightly, part of him restrains himself, the other yearned to reach out for you. But you were quick to recover, offering him a reassuring smile.

“ Yeah I’m fine, let’s go.” You placed your hands on both of them, winnowing them back to the town house. There Nuala and Cerridwen greeted the three of you. Nuala took the pots out of Elains hands, Cerridwen took the flowers and placed them in another vase. Elain begins gushing about the journey to Dawn, how gorgeous it was..You sighed exhausted leaving the space quietly to head to your own room. Azriel was about to follow you when Elain called for his help in the kitchen. Azriel hesitated staring up at the staircase. Why couldn’t he just talk to you? He’s a Shadowsinger, a spymaster, and he can pry details out of anyone but you. All he can feel is your emotions-your emotions... Elain had pulled Azriel from his thoughts as she hugged a pot to herself.

“Az? Are you coming?” She says as she waits for him to follow her to the garden. Again he hesitates but he feels a stirring in his chest. Azriel lifts up a hand instinctively touching it, a sharp sensation could be felt beneath his chest. It couldn’t be? Could it? Azriel’s eyes widen, Elain takes a breath “ I’ll be outside Az when you’re ready-“ Azriel moves his feet faster than his mind could process, he was out of the town house door, his wings pushing him off the ground shooting him into the sky, he needing some time to think..

___

The moons at its highest peak, your curtains flowing with gentle breeze that filtered through your bedroom. The candles and lights burnt out signaling that you were asleep, that was until you heard a creak in the floorboard, and the atmosphere changed, a darker presence filled the space. You were lying on your stomach, your hands slipping beneath the pillow as you grip the handle of the blade you’ve hidden beneath it. You felt the figure stop just before your bed frame, you could hear them bend down towards your face. As they reached for you, you swiftly reached out a free hand grabbing them, you flipped them onto the bed, rolling over pinning them down with your blade tucked against their neck in the most vulnerable area.

“ It’s only me” He whispers, the lights in the room reaching a dim hue, illuminating the area.

“ Jeez Az, I could’ve killed you” You replied tiredly, you pulled back the blade placing it on the end table. Azriel’s eyes followed your movement above him, your hips and legs straddling him, your hair in an unruly nature, from slumber. The candles hue amidst the room, caresses your face, your bare legs, your skin making it appear warm to the touch. You had worn a tunic that wasn’t yours, it hugged loosely around your body frame. The tunic looked oddly familiar to Azriel but then again he wasn’t so sure. All he wanted to do was rip whoevers tunic that belonged to, off of your body and replace it with his.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you-” He apologizes,”-I have one question I’d like to ask you” Azriel whispers, as he watches your facial expression twitch into a sleepy confusion.

“This couldn’t wait till morning?” You sighed as your hand moved to rub the sleep from your face. You remove yourself from him, you slip off the bed but not before Azriel caught your wrist. He shifts himself so that he sits up lifting himself off the bed. He towers over you, the candle's glowing light touches his features in a way that it could come off intimidating, but there was a more intimate, soft, texture that made him appear more angelic.

“ No I’m afraid not.” He admits.

You nod your head” What’s your question?”

“ How long have you known about the bond?”Azriel’s voice low, as if to test the waters but enough to plunge himself. He needed answers and after speaking with Rhys, it was his right.

“ What?” Your face dropped, your skin becoming clammy as nervousness passes through you, sleepiness evades you.

“ You heard me, answer the question” his eyes switch between both of yours, searching and evaluating. He tried to pinpoint every emotion you felt, he tried to feel you through, the only thing stopping him was- you.

“ It's not that simple-” You shook your head, pulling your wrist out of his hold. You weren’t prepared for this, you weren’t ready to unravel all that you worked so hard to ignore.

“ It is that simple” Azriel continued to pry, he didn’t need the bond to notice how uncomfortable and painful this topic was for you-it was news to him, he wanted the truth..no lies no games only the truth

“ No, it’s not. It’s complicated-“ You looked away from him moving to the other side of the room. You couldn't find the words to explain this situation, your reasoning. What if what you told him set him off? What if this ruins everything between your friendships? The alliance that has been created? So many thoughts and questions, never enough answers…but for Azriel you did have an answer to his question..

“ Complicated enough for you to leave.” It was then that feeling in your chest, it builds a thick pressure. A heavyweight on your shoulders, the air almost sucked out your lungs. “ Is that what you told Rhys when you were packing your bags?” You couldn’t breathe, Azriel’s footsteps followed you till he was right behind you. You faintly feel the pulse of his surprise and his anger, as if it was your own, but it had been so long since you’d tapped into the bond. You had spent a century ignoring it, shielding it, and now, it was muscle memory..

“ Don’t make me do this..” You whispered out, a silent plea to move on, to let this go.

“ You knew, and yet you decided not to tell me” His voice held a deep frustration, a deep want and need. He wasn’t going to give up, he had a way with finding out the truth..

“ That’s-not what happened..” You were again stumped with words, torn between giving in or lying, torn between running away or staying..

“ No? Then what happened?” He continues to look down at you, you refuse to meet his gaze. Azriel doesn’t take no for an answer moving towards the front. He stands in front of you. His smell, his faint emotions from the bond slowly consuming you. It surrounds you, his shadows dance along the edges of the room, waiting, watching, whispering.

“ Az-” You warned him, it was another weak attempt to fight him off. But he continued to poke, to pull, to pry, to grasp at anything you’d give him. You were tired, exhausted, hiding your emotions, your thoughts, your protected heart and mind bound to collapse, all secrets were meant to escape..

“ I want the truth, Y/N-”. You took a deep breath, your nerves running a mile a minute. His own anxiousness was replaced with a demanding thirst for the truth. A truth that belonged to him too. You’ve kept this wonderful secret to yourself, he watched as his own family found mates that paired well with them. Watching as their life finds the pieces to the puzzle it was missing. Deep down he wanted that very same thing. He felt as though he may not deserve it but he craved it, to be loved unconditionally… “-You owe me that much”

You sighed, your heart shattering, you gave in, you really hadn’t planned too but the look in his eyes-, “..Before Amarantha began her reign, Rhys made an offer to Thesan to let me stay in Velaris, as an emissary between the courts. It was then that I found out that we were mates… It was then that the deal was made.“

“All these years and you kept this to yourself, why?” His eyebrows furrowed.

“ Because I knew you were in love with Mor. I wasn’t going to take that from you. But I did wait for you, I waited a long time. But when it became an achingly slow desperation, I gave up. I practiced silencing the bond, so I couldn’t feel the emotions you felt when you were around other-women..romantically and lustily I mean. Then Elain came around and it was the same process. I’m exhausted, Azriel. I can’t keep doing this”

“ You didn’t bother to try! You’re running back home because you never thought to ask how I might’ve felt!” His jaw tenses, his head slightly tilted to the side, his frustration grows, at this notion of forcing the information out of you, when you should’ve let it happen, when you should’ve told him..

“ I didn’t because I wanted you to come to your own conclusion. I wanted it to be as natural as possible but you were so invested in Mor and Elain and I’m not one to take you away from that. But I also miss the people I care about, I miss my old home-It’s time for me to go-” You protested.

“ What does Rhys think of this?” Azriel jaw twitches.

“ He was the one who encouraged me to speak with Thesan-“

“ Is that what the discussion was between the two of you?” He presses.

“ Yes but-“ You attempt to defend yourself.

“ Y/N, what exactly did you say to him?” Azriel wanted every detail, every version of this story, of his story, of his mates-his mate.

“ I didn’t- I didn’t say anything. I asked if I could return home, and he told me that I should stay here, that if I truly wanted to come home then he’d considered it.” Your heart leaps into your throat, you swallow it back, the feeling collecting.

“ His answer wasn’t even a Yes” Azriel’s scoffs shaking his head, his hands on his hips as he looks at the floor and then away at the window.

“ Yes- but it’s my decision-“ You looked up at him, watching his movements carefully.

“ No it’s not, you’re not going back there.” He challenged, his eyes find their way back to yours.

“ You can’t decide that.” You tell him, the two of you hurting by the weight of your decision. Azriel’s own heart squeezes painfully, at how easy it was for you to say those words to him. You were his, he wasn’t going to let you just walk away, not without fighting for you.

“ Why not? You’d already decided to keep this to yourself regardless of how I felt” He takes a step forward his arms falling back down to his side.

“ Azriel please listen to me-“ You tried to reason, you tried to find a way to break through, he wasn’t thinking straight, you weren’t thinking straight, neither one of you.

“ No you listen, all those years, all those centuries, you were my friend, and you were someone who loved me. Loved me enough to sacrifice what you felt so I could find happiness. In the depths of my mind I have fought and searched for you without realizing that you were here in front of me..I was too blind to see it. ” His hands flew to your face, your jaw, cupping it, his thumbs grazing your cheekbones. Your hands follow suit as your fingers grip his wrists. His shadows remove themselves from the dark corners of your room, shooting out to tangle around your wrists, not to pull your hands away but to hold you there in place. “ Please don’t run from me” He whispers, his forehead dipping down to rest on yours. His hands slide from your cheeks to the sides of your neck.

“ Az-I can’t stay” You replied quietly, your hands pulling at his wrists weakly at his. You both knew that you could take him down easily, but at this moment in time the two of you were struggling. The tension grew thick in the air. A sort of sharp feeling intensifies, the faded familiarity that was the bond, solidifies. You thought that you had successfully mastered the art of blocking the bond but no. Azriel must’ve truly accepted it, a different feeling takes over, Azriel hums at the feeling. You sucked in a breath.

“ You can’t leave without knowing I’ve accepted the bond” His nose brushes against yours. You shook your head once more, completely pushed Azriel away. Your hands fly to your head, your fingers tangling in your hairs. You wanted nothing more than to curl into yourself, this was too surreal, too overwhelming. You’d spent so long, alone, and working, on occasions waiting. Now you were uncertain, even more than you had been hours ago. Azriel could feel your indecisiveness, he just needed to bring you back to him.

Azriel followed you, he pulled your hands from your hair, one of them he placed on his chest, his heart beating beneath it, you couldn’t look at him. But you could feel the gentleness, the love that flowed through him into you. “ My heart, my soul belongs to you” he tries again. You could feel your body sag at the feeling of comfort. It was so intense and welcoming. You wanted to wrap yourself in it-but you fought it, you were so used to the fighting, the restraint, the self control. “Let go” His voice reaches into the depths of your mind, into your soul, calling out to you.

You placed your forehead on his chest, your hand leaving the area above his heart. Azriel’s wings moved to surround you, his shadows moved to get to you, tangling themselves in your hair, caressing your face and hands. They speak to you wishing you nothing but love and happiness. They bring you comfort, your eyes fluttering shut.

“ Y/N” Azriel calls out. You could feel his hands cupping your face once more tilting it upwards, his breath light. You could feel how close he was, Azriel was right there, all he needed to do-Az’s lips crashed down onto yours, so soft, and yet his kiss held all his desperation, his passion. He couldn’t hold back, not with you, not when he loved you so. You weren’t surprised, in fact you hadn’t realized how much you yearned for his touch, his kiss. Azriel turns his head to the side deepening the kiss, a quiet moan slips out. By the cauldron Azriel loved to hear that sound, he wanted to hear it again, and again, and again. For as long as he lived and breathed.

You were putty in his hands, the feeling of his touch, his thoughts, his emotions was putting you in overdrive. Your mind couldn’t comprehend nor catch up to the pace in which things were happening. Azriel lets go of your lips for a brief moment, allowing you a chance to breathe, a whimper and the need for air also escapes your lips. Azriel had to fight the urge to keep himself from taking you right then and there. You had the urge to let him do it, you placed your hands on his chest pushing him back a step. You couldn’t think with him in your space, Azriel wasn’t going to budge, but with the way you were so caught up and caught off guard, he let you take a second.

“Okay-“ You breathed out. Azriel’s eyes light up, a smile threatens to break out. “ I-um-“ You cleared your throat,”Uh-I-I accept the bond..” you whispered the last part. Azriel’s heart gave a squeeze of joy, his chest filled with lightness, with happiness and relief. All he had ever hoped for had finally come to fruition. A twinkle of mischief sparks in his eyes, a smirk finds its way onto his beautiful features.

“ What was that?” He asks, yet you squint your eyes at him, you know he heard, he knows he heard you, but he wanted you to say it again. “-I didn’t quite hear you” You bit the inside of your cheek still squinting at him. You sighed, your body began to relax, your facial expressions changing to that of a sheepishness. You were struggling to admit it, Azriel waited for you patiently.

“ I-“

“ Yes?”

“ Az” You raised your eyebrows at him, as if to say I’m trying here.

“ I’m sorry, please go on.” He encourages you.

You sighed as you tried again this time “ I accept the bond-” You are much more confident and certain. “I’ve loved you since I’ve known you. You were right, my heart and soul belongs to you-“Azriel couldn’t contain himself much longer as took you into his arms and spun you around. A victorious grin graced both of your features, and for once the weight of the world didn’t feel so heavy in your chests. You gave a light hearted giggle, your heart swooning. Azriel places you back on the ground. You smiled brightly, the twinkle reaching your eyes. “This is happening?” You asked out loud, you searched for clarification.

“ Yeah it is” Azriel let go grabbing your hand pulling you towards the window. You tilted your head to the side, a sweet smile on your lips, a playful yet teasing expression stretches onto Azriel’s face. “Do you trust me?” his hand extends outward.

“ Yes.” You lift your hand to place it into his, this time a new height sense fills both your bodies. The touch feels like a loving hum on your skin. Your minds, your souls, finally resting after all the searching that it had done. You place your hand in his, he guides you out of the window onto the terrace of the town house. You followed him blindly, willingly. Azriel stood taller in the moonlight, and the stars above shining, his shadows nowhere to be found, it was just him. “ Az wait- Elain-“

“She knows, and I’m sure she will be upset with me, but she has Lucien..She doesn’t need me.” He nods. You watch him closely, as you slowly lift a hand to caress his cheek, the touch sweet and warming. Azriel instinctively leans into your touch, turning his head slightly to kiss the palm of your hand.

“ I’m sorry” You whispered, you realized that you may have ruined a friendship for him, a little bit more than a friendship..

“ No I’m sorry” he replies as he takes you back into his arms, the sounds of the city's music playing amongst the trees, the flowers, the plants, the night sky seeming more inviting, more alive. All Azriel knew was in this moment in time he finally understood the accept of the bond, the waiting, the calling, you had always been there waiting for him, you gave him time, space, anything he needed to figure himself out..All those times he spent with other women- then it dawned on him, had you done the same? You chuckled upon feeling that jealous emotion. “ Who’s tunic are you wearing?”

“ Az, it’s yours”

“ What-“ You peel yourself out of his arms.

“ This tunic you let me borrow on a mission we had, remember? Court of nightmares? I was stuck in a brothel, I ended up fighting my way out, my clothes were completely shredded?” You offered bits and pieces of the memory, Azriel’s takes a moment to recollect and it hits him.

“ Yes I remember, you ate a bowl of soup that night at one of the hostels. You hated it,” He chuckled as he remembered the disgusted look on your face. You laughed alongside him. You moved to head back towards your room but Azriel was quick to catch your hand.

”Where are you going?”

“Um-to make you something, we still have to seal the bond.”

“ Not here”

“ Then where?” Azriel grins as he throws one of your arms around his neck, one catches your back the other catches your knees.

“ Somewhere private, where I can have you all to myself, no distractions, just you and me” He whispers to you, his face dipping closer to yours, you sucked in a small breath, the blood beneath your skin singing, practically humming. His arms tightened their hold on you pressing you as flush to him as possible. Azriel looks away and upwards towards the night sky, his wings strong as they help push the two of you off the ground. Excitement filled the air, the night, seemed sweeter, less stuffy, inviting. You guessed that Thesan was right for making you stay here, to reconsider, you were thankful that he pointed you back in the direction of your mate. Azriel was happy that his brother fought for his love, fought for him to find happiness. It was more than just two courts keeping a civil peace, it was about two souls that needed to find each other, even if it takes a century.

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moonsaver · 10 days

Note

Context before getting into the actual idea: I recently saw some fanart based on concept art for Dr Ratio where he has slightly longer, messier hair and the fanart interpreted this as him having a bit of a rebellious phase when he was younger.

So now I’m just thinking about Reader going to school with him when he was going through this phase. He had a bit of a crush on her but didn’t know how to express it so he just messed with her constantly.

And now they meet again when he’s changed and he hasn’t gotten over her she’s just getting massive amounts of whiplash from how wildly different he is. Could be yandere 👀

Anon. I am GRIPPINT YOU BY THE SHOULDERS. Listen. Unfortunately i doubt i did this justice but i tried my best PLEASE okay

A bit long, under the cut!

Its not exactly easy to imagine Dr. Ratio of all people being rebellious, but that just makes it even more possibly believeable in my opinion. I am deeply convinced he has had his crazy scientist, jerkward asshole phase at least once and was soo deeply embarassed the moment he left it.

But listen. His professors all probably HATED him because he would probably constantly correct them, be so disgustingly overeducated to the point they'd send him to the library or tell him to get lost just so he wouldn't disrupt class. He's the infamous asshole who sits wherever he wants, and hoardes an entire table to himself if he's at the library or at the cafeteria. Any student who needs a pen or eraser or a pencil knows he's NOT the one to ask, even if it was in the middle of an exam worth half their grade and he was the only person beside them. He does literally anything he wants and no one can stop him except probably by force, and if they do, something worse ends up happening to them instead.

Anyways, here comes in reader. Probably already knows his sour reputation. Regardless, maybe you're the poor soul who's his seatmate. If the crush is already established, he's constantly bothering you. Asking for stationaries like the entirety of his desk isn't covered by it already (he likes the miniscule interaction), taking your notebooks without your knowledge and sometimes even scribbling inside of them (its his horrid handwriting, he's just trying to help you with detailed notes), he comments on how "lame" your outfit is, asking about your social life, rolling his eyes when your response isn't exactly.. pleasing (he's actually a bit content with it. Perhaps you'll hang out with him more, instead?). You note the smell of alcohol trailing him a bit everytime you interact with him.

It's not easy for him, especially when you can't seem to keep up and look so queasy around him. Aeons, his heart is so twisted up and squeezed everytime he seems to be getting more distant from you, but he just has no idea how to convey his feelings. Not when he didn't even account for the fact he'll have a crush on anyone in the first place.

Anyways, timeskip!

You're probably a researcher of some sort, maybe not so well known. Let's just say for the sake of simplicity you're a researcher on Herta's space station. It's not too soon before he runs into you, probably after the whole mess at the station's been "cleaned up" regarding the curio and whatever. Maybe he doesn't leave right after that interaction with Screwellum, and he decides to, by his curiosity, take a look around once again before he leaves (certainly not because he's heard a familiar name thrown around a few times).

And there you are. In your little research-getup, professional vernacular, hair all neat. He's probably right behind you in an instant, and you turn around to look as the colleague you were talking to suddenly starts stuttering and becoming squeamish while looking behind you. There he is, in all his (cruel?) Glory. The infamous asshole who was your classmate.

But.. it's surprising how much more mellow he's become (at least towards you?). His hair are neatly tamed, his build is taller and more muscular than it was back then, but his attire is also quite tame (if not a little.. fancy?), compared to his brash taste back then. His eyes still seem to hold contempt, but more distantly so.

Veritas figures your mouth is agape and you're speechless considering the change in his countenance as of recent. He's also not yet come to terms with the fact that his heart still twists and squeezes whenever he sees that unsure look on your face. If you were made of clay, and if he could, he'd meld the most beautiful smile on your face with his craftful fingers. Alas, he resorts to tamer methods. At least he supposes he's a wiser man, now. He's more aware of different courting methods.

He asks about your station, your current life, family, friends, etc .. in a seemingly disinterested tone. There's a bit of resignation but hidden constrain in his voice, everytime you mention a "close friend" of yours or a colleague you worked with "closely". But he hasn't been berating you the way he would have back then. His fingers slightly constantly strain, folded behind his back, trying desperately not to taper towards you – there's stray strands of hair on your face. Your headpiece is off centre. Your pen is slanting in your pocket. Your shoulders are too tense. Your eyebrows are furrowed. your eyes look tired. Have your lips always been chapped? They were fine back then.. hold on.

While you stutter out useless formalities and pleasantries, Veritas' eyes scan you over. Time has weathered you well, in his opinion. The thin line of his pressed lips dont quite indicate that. He sighs almost grimly, shutting you up in an instant. He offers you to accompany him and possibly consider joining the Intelligentsia Guild (is it not worth a shot trying? It may be foolish, but he's a tad too desperate when it comes to you). You timidly mumble out a refusal, the words barely leaving your mouth. He nods.

Catching up makes his heart squeeze and rush all over the place. Topics he once tried to teach you back then (by.. VERY unsuccessful methods,) seem to be elementary knowledge to you now. You work more efficiently, hold yourself in a better, more confident way, and you seem to be smoothsailing in your life. Granted, it's technically the bare minimum, but its been so long since he talked to you. The chirp in your voice, the chuckle you let out every now and then despite your nervousness around him, has his heart in his throat. He can't bring himself to try and even "set you straight" by giving you (unwarranted) advice or piddling your achievements, there's a soft smile he's duly hiding behind his scorning face.

He offers you again, if you are unsure about joining the Guild, and discreetly mentions it being filled with imbeciles regardless when you deny again, pulling another string of laughter out of you. Hmph, you weren't so joyful when he made those statements back in high school.

Granted,you're obviously still not quite sure about Veritas' new look. He's still got his infamous reputation as an extremely strict teacher, the oddball with an alabastor head and having worked with the IPC, it's not a pleasant image per se, but it's heaps better than his reputation back at school. You politely make a joke about it, and he groans, earning another cautious, light chuckle from you. He has become different. You prattle on about the length of his hair, his refinement of speech, the difference in how he holds himself now.. it does leave him melting a tad bit inside. You noticed it? Hm. Clever little thing.

Of course, goodbyes are seldom sweet. He does manage to pry out your contact information once again, before. If you don't budge,he finds another way regardless. Your network of colleagues aren't exactly as strong as you might have thought. He remembers this information carefully.

Like the old days, maybe he'll manage to keep slipping notes into your reports and files. Perhaps pull a few strings back in the old days to keep you in his class, he'll slowly knot and twist a few strings to bring and budge you over to his little workplace. Sooner or later, you'll end up in his home. He's sure of it.

And just like the old days, his little seatmate is by his side once again. Care to put up with him for a bit longer? Probably forever, in this case.

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thesamoanqueen · 6 months

Text

Owner

Raiting: 18+

Warnings: smut, jealousy, my bad english as always.

A/N: It should have been my gift to @harmshake for her day but I didn’t made it in time and here Im, posting it anyway *delusional smile*

He was getting a headache, a bad one because Y/N was unbeatable at driving him crazy. He always tried to control himself, freaking out during arguments didn’t fit him well and he could successfully have done it, at least until she got involved or decided to press that button, the one she had claimed from the first second Roman laid eyes on her. Thank God she wasn't the kind of woman who liked drama or kicking her feet, but if she decided to go down that road...

Roman could count their arguments on one hand, exceptions, extraordinary events, but every time it happened from one moment to the next, escalating in a few seconds and for reasons that weren't even real reasons. And it had been like that that time too. The night before Y/N had gone out with the girls, they had gone to have fun, there was nothing wrong and he had even been fine with it, because now that his schedule was no longer so oppressive they spent more time together, both didn't have to work hard as before. The next morning she got up and he had left himself speak, a comment about alcohol that she had clearly drunk, not about her, not even trying to scold her, but from there to chaos it was a short step.

Standing in the kitchen for who knows how long, he lowered his head in exasperation, exhausted, the idea of getting something to drink to go and relax, perhaps with her now only a memory, while Y/N marched through the living room, taking random stuff and dissecting that story as only she was capable of doing.

- I can do whatever I wanna do ‘cause you my daddy when I say you're, not every moment of ma life – she crashed into him at the other end of the huge room and Roman raised his head as if someone had slapped him.

She could do what? He wasn't what?!

- What did you just say?! – he snapped, not at all intending to let that time pass.

He had never tried to stop her from doing anything, he knew well who he had decided to be close to as a partner and it had never crossed his mind to treat her otherwise. He had made a comment, a comment because he cared about her, he was always worried, even if they were together and she came up with that story? He was a man, he didn't need to control her to feed his little ego.

- Thought it was me tired, but now the one who cannot hear me is you? - she insisted stubbornly, refusing to let go and Roman gave her a warning look, his gaze dark.

- Y/N stop running that mouth

- Well if you don't like my attitude anymore, go find someone else and I'll do the same – she pointed at him and Roman knew that she was throwing everything on the table by now, but she had to slow down because he had enough now.

He wouldn't have gone anywhere, above all she wouldn't have found anyone else. She could put it out of her head to play those games with him and above all to turn around and leave him there as she was trying to do. He quickly crossed the living room, before Y/N could even disappear and grabbed her by the waist, hearing her let go with a thud all the stuff she had in her arms, struggling.

- What-Get your hands off me, lemme go-

- You better calm down- don't kick! - he warned her, taking blow with a grimace as he dragged her with him across the room - don't… no… babygirl-

- Roman put me down, ain't joking! And don't call me that! – she struck again, convincing him to put her down on the coach, to grit his teeth, irritation growing.

- No more babygirl, ain't your daddy, you can do whatever, what's going on huh?!

Frozen, Y/N stared back at him. Her arms wrapped tightly around her chest, legs curled up on the couch where she still had tried to escape him at first, even though he was literally towering over her. He had raised his voice, he never did it, except when they got to that point, but every time it happened he ended up regretting it the same instant just by looking at her. He couldn't stand those moments, because they didn't belong to either of them and for sure wasn't what he wanted for their relationship.

- You don't own me – Y/N said, refusing to lower her head and Roman ran a hand over his dark beard, inspiring, before looking back at her deadly serious.

- I own you

He knew what was going on in that head of her, because Y/N thought and thought even late at night when she should have been sleeping, she was dangerous. And that argument had been the reason she had struggled to have relationships in the past, the same one that had led them to chase each other for a year before giving a name to what was between them. It had been a stupid comment, said with a completely different intention, they both knew it, and yet she had snap.

-I do – he repeated, seeing her physically stiffen when he crouched down in front of her – as you own me – he admitted without shame.

He knew what he wanted from his life and he knew what he was willing to risk, he had never been the kind of person who liked to be led, but since she had entered his life, his vision had changed. It was like this from the moment he woke up to the moment he went to bed, it was his law, it was what he chose and what Roman committed to. He wasn't a kid, he could make sacrifices and he wanted to bear them.

-That's how things work – he explained, eyes running over her figure without forgetting a single piece, while hers studied him.

They were doing this together and there was no "whatever" for it to work. They had each other's backs, they belonged to each other and there was no one else who could replace either of them in that mission. No plan B, no alternatives, it was all or nothing, she was the one who told him first and Roman stuck to that. He could keep his mouth shut, ignore if he wanted, he had no problems, but what they were had to be clear, for better or for worse, during arguments or not.

Y/N insisted on not moving, legs still bent on the coach, shoulders still tense and her gaze fixed on him who hadn't moved an inch too, ready to take yet another blow that never came. She only needed a few words, if the right ones, to send those moments away and Roman knew he had said them to her or she wouldn't have given up. An arrogant and slightly softened grin was struggling to show itself, but he just frowned, tilting his head a little to look at her inch by inch again.

-May I touch you now? – he asked, his voice now low, soft.

- What if I say no? – he heard her ask immediately, stubborn and without mercy.

Firm in his purpose, Roman did not give up, completely unimpressed by that attitude which had single-handedly eliminated any competition long before him.

- Please – he begged hoarsely and Y/N once again didn't move.

She didn't even answer, but her dark chocolate eyes did it for her, wavering for a moment at that plea and he reached out with both hands, slowly pulling her legs off the couch by ankles. He slid one on the carpet, placing the other on top of his knees, caressing the caramel-colored skin, soft calf, her eyes pointing at him in religious silence as he went up higher, touching behind the knee to spread his hand on her gorgeous soft thigh. He felt her body vibrate imperceptibly, responding to that contact and Y/N immediately push her foot against his chest, stopping him from going any further.

-Babygirl...- he called her back, looking up again.

Still no response and Roman took the opportunity to slide her leg over his shoulder, making his way between her. His hands began to caress her again without waiting any longer, going up, taking the opportunity to take care of the other leg in the same way and in the same way, even with the other, Y/N stopped him. Roman looked at her in silence this time, he placed a kiss on her skin, pinching it with his beard, breathing in the scent of coconut and vanilla lotion, receiving a new push in return. He waited a second, just one, to collect himself, before also pulling the other leg over his shoulders and bending her on the couch, without asking or negotiate anymore, crashing his mouth onto her to get a moan.

Y/N under him struggled, trying to push him away, refusing to let him win that fight as useless as the argument they had was. He stopped her from the wrists, bracing them with a little force against the couch backrest, pressing them with some of his weight, heat rising quickly and her complaints, muffled, slowly turning into hot moans. Roman knew that she was ready to not make his life easy and repay him in some way, but he was fine with that.

He liked challenges and if she was the prize, he could take more than a couple of pushes.

Slow and unstoppable, he made his way over her. Feeling her mouth slowly indulge him, her hands stop shaking and her legs squeeze him to have his body closer, to have him where he belonged. He still refused to let go, keeping her pinned beneath him, sliding only one large hand, first around her throat and then further down, under her oversize shirt, over her breast free from any constriction. His thumb automatically went to play with her nipple and Y/N mewled into his mouth, panting hotly when Roman finally abandoned her to move down, licking her ear and jugular before biting and sucking that soft skin with the only purpose to leave his mark.

- Mmh! – a moan, strangled, still a little freaky, teeth closing on her swollen lip to stop it.

Annoyed, he looked up at her, studying her focused, breathless, cute expression. He pushed a little on her wrists, feeling her body soften and pulled her white shirt up a little more, to go down to kiss her between her round breasts, inhaling her scent, dipping his face there to devour her hungrily. Her shivers, her heartbeat dangerously close, even the sound of her swallowing while trying to catch her breath, had quickly turned that exchange into something more and bossy Roman rubbed himself against her, his cock now hard inside his gray jumpsuit. He watched Y/N bite her lip again, try to hold back, belly tense and eyes finally searching for him as he began to suck and bite on one of her dark salty buttons.

Her back always curved into a delightful arch when he paid her that kind of attention. An almost unnatural, desperate and needy arch, which Roman get never tired of holding in his hands and admiring, often asking for more, demanding everything.

He watched her throw her head back, almost hiding between cushions and his arm slid behind her back, pulling her against him, grabbing her hip so her center was in place. Y/N struggled again, breathing short, her gaze liquid with excitement and Roman tightened his grip on her wrists, freeing her breasts shiny from his saliva and quickly place a kiss on both her legs that were resting onto his shoulders. Quickly, he fumbled with his clothes, pulling them down with his only free hand, immediately feeling his erection jump to attention and Y/N gasp in anticipation.

- What do you say sweetheart huh? – he asked hoarsely, pressing it against her perfect ass, while also freeing her too – do you want me to ask nicely or not?

-Lemme-e go- he heard her repeat, but this time he knew that her intention was not to run away.

- Please babygirl? – he chanted into her ear, almost crushing her beneath him.

- Please… daddy – a meow more like a moan and Roman released his grip on her wrists.

Her hands grabbed his face instantly, forcing him into a kiss he would never refuse and then wrapping around his torso, scratching his solid neck with demand, as he thrust into her without waiting any longer. Her folds were soft, welcoming and every single time he ended up searching for the bottom, that exact point that made her tighten around him in a vice from which Roman always hoped not to escape. His body was shot through with every sigh of Y/N, every single moan and prey to an uncontrolled reaction his hips moved reflexively, thrusting and pinning her down.

They hadn't fucked like this for a long time now, since they were nothing and their encounters seemed more like a desperate attempt to leave their mark on each other so that no one else could get in the way or hope to. Now those thoughts, those doubts were far away, but Roman still felt in the bottom of his chest the urge to claim her, to give her everything and because of that, he took advantage of his strength to turn her onto her side, leaving one of her legs down. From that position he could push at another angle, holding her round buttock, straightening his back.

- Like tha-aht, yes-

-Yeah, let's strech my pussy good…-he growled hungrily, giving her an appreciative slap on the ass and the moan that Y/N let out was accompanied by her throbbing walls.

- There-yes there!

Quick, rough, he knew that neither of them would last long, but he put a hand on her belly anyway, touching his bulge, hitting that spot and observing, satisfied, the whitish ring that had already formed around his cock. He saw it spread across his entire length, back and forth, again, while Y/N tried to hold him between her folds, inside her sweet cave. He licked his lips, savoring her moods from a distance, pressing with his fingers where her mound welcomed him, feeling his own hardness, his thumb sliding further down to play with her swollen button.

A couple of thrusts and Y/N exploded beneath him in a succession of gasps, hands gripping the coach cover, eyes closed tightly and that wonderful arc that Roman moved again, to take her from behind, pushing himself onto his knees to have her into a press. Frantic, he let his head loll, pounding frenetic through his orgasm, refusing to give in until Y/N slapped her hand against one of his arms and he pulled out quickly, missing her warmth instantly.

A growl left him, but just as he had felt that unpleasant absence, he welcomed Y/N who had sat up to take him into her soft mouth, licking both of their juices with a moan of appreciation. With one arm resting on the coach backrest and the other hand holding the back of her head, he watched Y/N wrap her lips around the tip, suck until she tore the soul out of his lungs and then swallow him almost in his entire length to allow him to empty himself inside her.

- F-Fuck, open wide, so warr-rm-

He held her in place, moving on impulse, feeling the heat of his own body mix in Y/N's throat, her tongue pampering him until the last drop dirtied her mouth and his long fingers extricated themselves from the curls that he had pulled away from Y/N’s bun, stroking it affectionately, feeling the pop of that dangerous mouth that released him after having swallowed and cleaned up the mess of both of them. Breathing heavily he let himself fall down, pulling her against him as messy as he was, realizing only after long, infinite minutes of silence that at the end they had both managed to relax there together even if how, they had gotten to that point, had not been what he imagined.

He tilted his head, seeing her clinging to him with that tired look that he was responsible for this time and he couldn't help himself, leaving a kiss on her forehead that made her lift her chin to look up.

- We made it again – he noticed, seeing that adorable pout that she reserved only for him.

She who would have eaten alive anyone out there without a second thought, with him instead every now and then she gave into the temptation to behave like a little one and as long as it was her, Roman could handle anything. She owned that right and privilege.

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thesunisatangerine · 7 months

Text

against all odds (to wait for you is all i can do) – part four

alexia putellas x photojournalist!reader

warnings: explicit sexual content

(a/n in the tags) [parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve]

word count: 4.3k

It didn’t stop after the first and it sure didn’t stop after the third, either.

Depending on her schedule, you saw Alexia once or twice at most a week; most of the time it was on the night after a Barcelona match and by the next morning, she’d be gone before you even woke up. But you’d noticed her visits had been increasing in frequency lately, not to mention that sometimes she’d still be in bed when you awakened. The first time you found her still asleep beside you, you were dumbfounded, thinking it was a dream image of her in front of you. And what amazed you even further was that it kept happening.

It wasn’t an unpleasant development. In fact, it was something you gratefully welcomed. And it wasn’t just that, either. Sometimes when Alexia came over, you didn’t even have sex you just… talked: about her training and her health, her teammates’ shenanigans–and hers, of course–her family and bits of her personal life. Meanwhile you told her about places you explored and showed her photos of where you’d been. Then she’d tell you about places you could check out, food to try, and even went ahead and promised to take you to some of the places herself when she had the opportunity.

These times were rare, sure, but you found yourself enjoying her company more and more to the point you noticed yourself craving for it–found yourself missing her presence despite your constant back-and-forth messages. And still you didn’t ask where this was going for fear of ruining whatever the two of you had; you were content and you just simply wanted to watch this unfold as it was. And anyway, it wasn’t like you weren’t used to fleeting relationships, situationships–whatever you’d like to call it–because who was to say this wouldn’t end up like your previous dalliances–ending before it could ever truly begin? Despite you hoping otherwise, a large part of you already convinced yourself that this wouldn’t be anything different: just another highlight to your getaway vacation that you’d look fondly back on a few years down the line.

You had a month left in Barcelona, maybe an additional few weeks depending on the client. What could possibly go wrong?

———

A knock took your attention from your work to the door. You looked at the time–it was early evening on a Saturday and you weren’t expecting anyone. Perhaps you just imagined it? But then it came again not a minute later. You were reluctant to open it seeing as it was already dark but a ping from your phone that signalled a message from Alexia asking if you were home had you flying to the door.

Upon opening it, you found Alexia there with Nala resting in the crook of her arm, phone in hand, and a paper bag in the other.

“Took you long enough.” Alexia said playfully, all cool and confident but then her brows quirked upwards almost sheepishly as she said in a more tamed tone, “is this a bad time? I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

You smiled at her consideration before you ushered her in. “No, no! It’s fine, really! Come on in. Sorry, I just wasn’t comfortable opening the door when it’s dark without knowing who it was.”

“Ah, it’s my bad. I should’ve let you know before dropping by.” She bent down and let Nala loose before she untied her shoes and left them by the door. Nala bounded to the living charged with curiosity, nose to the ground, tail wagging as she carefully examined the new space.

Alexia regarded her dog with an amused expression before she looked back at you. “I meant to bring this over after the game tomorrow but I saw the lights as I drove past so… here I am, I guess.”

You reassured her again as you locked the door behind her and you watched as she made her way to the kitchen. As you passed through the archway to the kitchen room, Alexia already situated herself by the counter taking out glass canisters from the paper bag she brought. When she took the lids off, a delicious aroma instantly filled the air, enticing your senses.

“What do you have there?” You asked as you leaned on the opposite side of the counter.

Alexia smiled at the eagerness in your tone and pride shone in her eyes as she spoke, “only the best fideuà and esqueixada in the world. Made special by my mother, of course.”

You peered into the containers and the sight made your mouth water instantly. As if it remembered that you hadn’t had any food yet, your stomach grumbled obnoxiously. Alexia definitely heard it because she fixed you with an amused smile and at that, your cheeks warmed so you tried to divert her attention. “You know what would put this all together?”

“What?”

“Wine or champagne. Wait–are you allowed to drink?”

“I’m allowed since I’m still not qualified to play yet.” Her visage became somber for a moment–it fleeted so quickly you almost didn’t catch it–before the light in them returned again. “If you have it, white wine is the best complement for this.”

You hummed and tapped your chin, turning to make your way to the cellar. “I’ll have a look. I’m sure Derek has some wine stored in here somewhere.”

You’d mumbled the last part but it seemed Alexia’d caught it because she asked, “who’s Derek?”

Something odd in her tone stopped you and made you look back at her. Her face was unreadable, almost too neutral. She didn’t think Derek was your boyfriend, did she?

“Oh, Derek’s my brother. He hasn’t been here for a while but he owns this house.”

“Ah, I see,” Alexia cleared her throat, looking away and you could just see a hint of redness in her cheeks. “Well, I’ll lay out the plates. I suppose they’re just in...?”

“The bottom drawer to your right and the utensils are in the upper one.” You instructed as you continued towards the cellar.

“Oh, yeah, I see,” came Alexia’s muffled response.

When you returned with the bottle of white wine, you found that Alexia managed to locate the glasswares by herself and were drying them with a tea towel. There was only one set of plate and utensils laid out though so you fixed her with a confused look.

“You’re not going to eat?”

Alexia shook her head. “I already had my fill with my family earlier. I’ll take the drink, though.”

“That’s nice that you visited your family today. How are they?” You sat at one of the high chairs by the counter, popped the wine open and poured each of you a glass. You noticed that Alexia’d heated up the fideuà for you from the steam that rose from its container which strengthened its aroma and made it all the more enticing. Alexia remained opposite you but she was close enough with her leaning forward on her elbows, her glass of wine in hand.

She sipped her wine and told you they were well, described little snippets of what’s been happening in her family life. She even told you about a prank she recently played on her sister, one that nearly made you choke on your wine.

You listened as she talked, liking the way her brows quirked and her shoulders move as she spoke, how each gesture became more pronounced the more passionate or interested she was on a subject. You asked questions and engaged with the conversation every now and again as you savoured the rich taste of the pasta and the freshness of the salad. You’d never had anything like it and you told her as much. In response, she said she’d give the compliment to her mother when she saw her next which made your cheeks warm up again. Once you finished, you tidied up and though you insisted she didn’t have to, Alexia helped you wash up anyway.

Afterwards, the both of you ended up in the living room with your glasses of wine. She gestured at your laptop on the couch with her glass.

“Work?”

“Yeah. Just double checking if I missed anything important and preparing for the match tomorrow.” You sat on the couch and put the laptop on your lap. Alexia opted to sit on the carpet, legs stretched and crossed, back leaned back against the couch, her head just beside your legs as Nala settled by her side.

She turned her head, looking up at you. “Can I see?”

You turned your laptop so she could see better. You flicked through the photos you were sorting through, explaining to her every now and then the thought process behind each shot. On some photos, Alexia asked you to pause so she could soak them in.

“These are great. You have a great eye.” Alexia complimented with an appraising nod as you got to the end. You thanked her as you pulled back. Then a question came to mind.

“Do you ever get used to it? The cameras, I mean.”

A pause.

“I’m not and I don’t think I ever will. I’m more comfortable with it now but if it’s possible to avoid, I’d do it. I know it’s a part of football and god knows how much more exposure women’s football needs,” Alexia released a heavy sigh, “but sometimes it just gets too much, you know? I mean, I really should be grateful, right? To have gotten to this point? But the media side of it is… not without its own set of miseries.”

There was an inflection in her tone upon her admittance–guilt. You gently carded your fingers through her hair, Alexia leaned into your touch in response, and you replied just as softly, “it must’ve been difficult. It still is and for you, especially. And I don’t know if anyone’s told you lately but you have to know: you’ve given so much of yourself already. It’s not a sin to want a little peace, Alexia, and it doesn’t make you ungrateful for wanting it, it just makes you human.”

Alexia took a deep breathe before she rested her temple against your knee. Then you heard her whisper, “thank you.”

A silence fell upon the both of you after that but it wasn’t an uncomfortable one. She remained that way for the majority of the night, head against your knee as she watched a game of football on the TV.

By the time you finished up your work, it was already late evening and Alexia’d dozed off beside you. You felt bad as you gently woke her up and groggy hazel eyes found yours when you did. The sight made your heart ache from how much Alexia looked younger and more at peace this way, and you told her to wash up so she could stay the night.

And she did.

Now, your cheek felt warm against her chest despite the slight dampness of her borrowed shirt from her hair. Her skin smelt faintly of the soap you were using and with her arm around your waist, you fell asleep content, lulled to a deep slumber by the steady rhythm of her heart.

———

“Hey, please don’t wear that, it’s dirty,” came Alexia’s reprimand from behind you.

You glanced at her reflection in the mirror: Alexia was propped up on the pillows against the headboard, an arm behind her head, nude except for the bundle of sheets that covered one of her thighs, the marks you’d left on her neck and chest last night and this morning generously displayed for you to behold.

She was nothing short of glorious, you thought, looking relaxed and content like this.

You turned your attention back to your own reflection: Alexia’s Barcelona jersey draped over your smaller frame and fell just partway down your bare thighs. It felt comfortable against your skin and the fact that it smelt just like Alexia made it feel all the more special.

When you looked at her reflection again, you found her with an affectionate smile, eyes lidded and brows inflected slightly upwards, and suddenly the attention warmed your cheeks.

“But you only wore it for a shoot, right?”

“I mean, yeah, but you know what I mean.”

You hummed, “do you need it?”

“No, I have spares,” she replied before she raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“That means I have time to wash it before I give it back since you insists that it’s dirty.” You said drily as you turned away from the mirror and padded your way to the bed, crawling on the sheets on your knees once you got there.

As soon as you got close enough, Alexia’s hands were immediately on you, guiding you to straddle her lap before she embraced you fully, resting her chin between the valley of your breasts as she looked up at you. You carded your fingers through her hair to see those fair, hazel eyes that never failed to make you shiver.

“I didn’t say you have to hurry. Plus… I kinda like seeing my number on you.” And then she was kissing your neck and you felt one of her hand creeping its way down to cup your ass. You gasped when you felt the heat of her fingers brushing against your core and you buried your own in her hair as she traced a path from your throat to your ear with her tongue, nipping at your lobe when she got there.

“Fuck… Alexia…” You moaned, “you’re insatiable.”

She kissed your shoulder and then she whispered, “only for you.”

———

Something flashed from the corner of your eye followed immediately by a string of whispered curses and a familiar whirring sound. You put your thumb over the line you were just reading so you wouldn’t lose your place before you looked over your bare shoulder to the corner of the room you knew Alexia was who you found, as expected, holding one of your Polaroid cameras.

She was only wearing a pair of grey sweats which left her torso bare and–like all the time you saw her nude–you couldn’t help but appreciate the soft curves of her breasts and the carved muscles of her stomach. When she met your gaze, she smiled almost sheepishly at you not dissimilar to a child being caught stealing cookies from the jar.

You raised a playful eyebrow at her but instead of answering, she placed her eye over the viewfinder, aimed the camera at you, then pressed the shutter again.

The film came out with a whir and Alexia immediately tucked it into the pocket of her sweats. She then began to make her way towards you and at every other step, she’d stop to take a photo of you, carefully manoeuvring the camera to get the right angle as she did so. It was an endearing sight, really, and it was one that filled your chest full of warmth.

Eventually, she ended up on you, turning you over on your back as she straddled your waist, leaving you at the mercy of Alexia and her camera. From this position, you couldn’t help but feel extremely vulnerable and exposed not because of your bareness, but because you knew with the way your chest surged with warmth from how Alexia gazed down at you with a satisfied grin, the dimple on her cheek showing as her tongue peeked out between her teeth at the corner of her mouth, seemingly focused on getting the right shot, that this was a woman who had the power to completely and utterly unravel you.

As a photographer, you were well acquainted with how cameras had the capacity to capture the essence of a moment–to display in raw details the emotions of its subject and freeze them in time, readying them for the dissection and scrutiny of the viewer. You wondered then what Alexia would see written in the shadow, the light, and the colours in the photos she just took of you once she looked at them, and the thought both elated and frightened you.

Alexia brushed away hair from your temple but as she was about to pull away, you put yours atop of hers and turned your cheek into her palm, looking directly at her behind the camera. You heard her breath catch and then she stuttered out a breath, and the flash barely registered in your mind because you were too focused on the strength and the warmth of Alexia’s hand as you pressed butterfly kisses on the inside of her palm.

The next thing you knew, the camera was abandoned completely and you couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out from your throat when you finally felt Alexia’s lips on yours.

———

Alexia sat on one of the high chairs in the kitchen room, hair damp, a game of football on the mounted TV that was left forgotten in place of… something that you couldn’t quite see from this distance. Alexia’s shoulders were hunched over in concentration and you didn’t have the heart to interrupt whatever she was doing so you leaned on the archway, content with just observing her do her work.

“Are you just gonna stand there or would you care to join me?” You rolled your eyes and you didn’t fight the smile that graced your lips. So much for being sneaky–the fact that Alexia was an accomplished footballer who had crazy spatial awareness occasionally slipped your mind.

“Okay, Gwen Stacy, calm down.” Alexia looked over her shoulder then and stuck her tongue out at you, grinning. “How did you even know I was here?”

“Your reflection on the microwave.” She gestured to it with her chin and sure enough from this angle you were instantly visible especially with the white shirt you had on. The dark glossy surface almost made you look like a ghost.

Standing on your toes, you draped yourself over her broad back, arms wrapping loosely around her neck as you peered down. “So, what are we working on?”

“This.”

A bracelet made of a dark-blue and red string that looped into itself with a singular, small gold diamond-shaped charm right in the middle, a vertical bar at the two corner points of the long edge of the diamond, dangled between Alexia’s fingers. She took your right hand and placed it in your palm so you could look at it: the bracelet was simple but it’s delicate nature made it all the more beautiful and elegant.

“Oh, wow, this is so pretty.”

“It’s for you.” At that you looked at her, half-afraid that she’d feel the way your heart raced at her words against her back.

You were so busy trying to find the right thing to say that you didn’t realise that she took the bracelet back until you felt the warmth of her fingers on your palm as she turned your hand over. You watched her as she wrapped it around your wrist, securing the tie. You turned your right wrist over and looked at the delicate bracelet, and something in your heart soared at the small gift. The fact that Alexia made it herself made it all the more special to you.

“Thank you, Alexia. I love it.”

“You’re welcome.”

That night while you were sufficiently warm nestled by Alexia’s side, naked except for the sheets, your head on her chest, a realisation hit you.

“It represents FC Barcelona, isn’t it?”

Alexia hummed in answer, the rumble from the sound a pleasant sensation on your cheek. Then she held your wrist in the space between her thumb and index finger, the width of her palm supporting your hand as she turned your hand just so so the gold of the diamond could catch the light.

“And what else?”

At that, you looked at the bracelet intently. The two bars: one and one–Alexia’s number. So she really was serious when she said she liked seeing her number on you.

You let out a small laugh, then you nuzzled her jaw as you spoke, “you little sneak.”

———

Minding her bad knee, you flipped the both of you over with a strength that even surprised yourself and with how Alexia’s brows raised high, you supposed it took her off guard, too. You settled your weight on her stomach and you bit your lip when you felt her abs tense against your core, and the desire in you blazed into a raging inferno that threatened to burn you inside out.

She grabbed your ass in both hands with a firm grip, making you gasp when her hold made you grind against her stomach, her eyes smouldering as she looked up at you.

That look was your last straw; you couldn’t stop fighting your desire anymore so you let it swallow you whole. You fell forward, bracing your weight against your elbows as you craned your neck to kiss Alexia, rough and desperate, her lower lip between your teeth. The action rewarded you with a low moan, a delicious sound that shot heat straight down to your core.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” Alexia gasped out between your relentless kisses.

“I like being on top,” was your simple answer whispered hotly against her ear, nipping gently at the soft skin there–teasing.

Then it was your turn to gasp.

Her fingers dug delightfully into your flesh, kneading your ass roughly before easing them apart with equal force. The harsh treatment caught you by surprise and the effect of it even more unexpected as you immediately melted against her, moaning her name helplessly against the crook of her neck.

She knew just how to make a mess of you.

“Hmm, do you?” She asked coyly and then proceeded in a deliciously low voice that oozed seduction, smugness, and sex. “Too bad I’m still in control.”

“Fuck.” Your body answered for you in a full-body shiver. Her words turned you on to the brink of falling and you found no purchase as you slipped from the ledge.

It should be embarrassing how you could come without Alexia even fucking you, and it should scare you that she had this much power over your body but in this moment, when her hands were everywhere but your pussy and her filthy words were whispered hotly in your ear, you could care less. So you fell apart, shaking and weak, as you sank on top of Alexia’s firm and soft body, her name barely coherent from the sobs that came out of your lips. Euphoria lit every nerve in your body as you came, the fabric of your underwear latched deliciously on your pussy like a second skin and you were sure that you’d made a mess on Alexia’s bare stomach.

You only realised Alexia had stopped her teasing ministrations until you heard her thick voice through the haze of the afterglow which you barely caught.

“You came.”

It wasn’t a question, really, but you let out a small affirmative moan because what else could you do? You were mush–the intensity of your orgasm caught you off guard and left you floundering that no thoughts formed in your mind, just pure bliss and ecstacy. But as the veil of euphoria began to lift, embarrassment bled into the edges of your consciousness and with it the instinct to apologise. The words were poised at the tip of your tongue when Alexia moaned.

“Fuck, that’s so hot,” she breathed out and when you found the strength to lift your head to look at her, her eyes were lidded, pupils blown so wide they were almost all black.

And then she was pulling you in for a kiss, and then the wet heat of her tongue traced the edge of your ear, and she was nipping at your jaw while she dragged her palms from your ass to the side of your ribs. Your skin burnt at her touch and you could do nothing but surrender, to moan and whimper as your heat blazed anew despite having just been swept away.

“But this time, you’re going to come with my fingers in you.”

She didn’t even let the words sink in. Instead she wasted no time to slip her hand between your bodies and to push aside the fabric of your ruined underwear. Usually, Alexia liked to tease you and ease her fingers in you slowly as she sought as much reaction from you as she could, but the slick she found there must had been enough to satisfy her because she pushed two fingers in as soon as she found you. The thickness of her fingers slid in easily and you nearly screamed her name from the pleasure.

She was relentless in her endeavour to make her words true with the way she gripped your hip steady with her free hand so you didn’t stray too far from her touch when you moved to meet her thrusts, the pace at which she worked her fingers in you left you lightheaded the same way her teeth on your neck worked to drive you insane.

“Alexia, Alexia, Alexia–” You chanted her name like a holy litany, burying your face into her hair that was now slightly damp with sweat and breathed her in: her scent of sun and freshly cut grass, of faint wintergreen, and an essence that was uniquely hers. The moment left you full with something heavy and warm, something that spoke of and hoped for forever, and clarity washed over you: this wasn’t like one of your previous dalliances anymore because you wanted more with her.

The realisation hit you hard, the gravity of it left your mind in a momentary stasis that when you came back to yourself, the shock of your orgasm knocked the breath from your lungs and you felt yourself being pulled by the tide. So strong was it that you could do nothing but pray the flood wouldn’t take you–that Alexia wouldn’t let you drown.

#ap11 #not proofread #mine #my writing #a/n: i think this is the halfway point guys for this one #ik alexia mentioned somewhere that she has dinner with her family on fridays but for this fic's sake i made it to saturdays lol #also i have a backlog of ideas i wanna start writing but i really wanna finish this one first #just a side note this part is 4.3k #so on aggregate this is officially the longest fanfic id written so far.#hope you guys like this and would love to know what you think about the story so far #just a reminder: im tweaking minor details as i go so the most accurate copy of all the parts will be on my ao3 (@thesunisatangerine)#apologies for any grammar and spelling mistakes ill work on em later #woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader

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strawbsj · 4 months

Note

Hiii again!!

can I make a request about g!p minji x reader fcking in the library?

I got too excited with this idea😁

Secret crush.

You have been struggling in school for the past two months due to some family issues and just life has been exhausting and draining, you weren’t dumb you just needed a little break and someone who takes care of you. From the start of the school year you have been getting decent grades, they were good but if we compare it to the amount you study for you should definitely get better grades, that really did unmotivate you because what do you mean someone who didn’t even touch a book will get a better grade than someone who pulls all nighters, skips meal just to study and never skips a class?You are happy for them but still there is a little unpleasant feeling inside you that you can’t deny ,And on top of that your family starts complaining about you not trying hard and not getting full marks. So you thought about what is the point of trying hard but still not reaching?

The way your grades dropped made your teacher really unhappy because you definitely weren’t dumb in fact you were very intelligent so she decided to talk to you and try to convince you to get a tutor and maybe she can help you choose one.

“___can you stay a little after class, we need to discuss something?”

You were tired and wanted to go home, you wanted to deny but what if she has something important to say?

“Sure” you replied with tired eyes that anyone could literally notice that you hadn’t been getting proper sleep for days, and yeah you don’t even remember when you last had that 10 hour uninterrupted sleep.

Class ended faster than usual, once all of the students went out of the class the teacher sat you down and took a deep breath before starting to talk.

“___ has anything happened home or do you have something going on that is not very pleasant…since your grades been dropping and I’m wondering what’s the reason and if we could try to fix it?” She spat, she really didn’t want to express her thoughts in a hurtful or negative way so she tried to sound as kind as possible.

You took an exhale before speaking “miss everything is going fine at home it’s just that I’m very unmotivated towards school and my mental health overall is not really helping with school” you spoke trying to sound as ok as possible even tho tears are starting to well in your eyes, recalling everything that is happening and all of your family problems.

“I see, do you think if we could ask a student to tutor you so you could perhaps make friends at the same time while studying do you think that would help you a little? And ___ you are nowhere near stupid you just need a little push and that will get you started all over again and I care for you, you are one of my favorite students here, always kind and enthusiastic to learn new things so seeing you like this really does hurt me.” She uttered in the most comforting tone ever, you smiled at her request and nodded because maybe that will make your school life and mental health better “a tutor could work!” Your teacher smiled warmly at your answer “then I will look for a tutor” she said, she lastly bid you goodbye and you went home a little smile on your face knowing that you have a new start and could improve.

The next week the teacher gave you the name of the student who will tutor you and when will you meet, the first lesson would be in the library. Damn, you haven’t been there for a long time you thought to yourself. You checked the paper that the teacher gave you once more and you looked at the name again “Minji”. You have heard the name before but the image of the person didn’t really click. You decide to pick a place near the entrance of the library so as soon as minji steps inside she could see you, you dont think she even recognize you but let’s just hope for the best.

You waited silently for about seven minutes till you saw a girl with a school uniform, your school never restricted what the students wear but that’s what she is comfortable wearing, now the image clicked, She is minji! You have never interacted with her nor your friends did but she was known for having one of the best grades in school if not the best. She was quiet,didn’t really have much friends, a bookworm and kinda cold or perhaps a better word distant? You always saw her with a book in hand or had her head deep down writing something. She didn’t really put much effort in socializing but one thing undeniable about her was her beauty she was that handsome type of beauty. You waved your hands at her you were maybe too excited she just walked towards her expression hard to read, she always had a resting face.

“I was kinda late, sorry” she spoke a little cold it gave you chills, is she always this serious? You didn’t expect any type of laughter or giggling but a little smile wouldn’t hurt anyone!

The tutoring session went pretty smoothly she told you the basic stuff and you immediately got the hang of it, like the teacher said you weren’t stupid you just needed someone to take interest in you. It was very silent, yeah a library is supposed to be silent but this maybe was too silent. You looked around and saw no one near you or even far away from you. You looked at the entrance of the library and there was no one even the bored librarian wasn’t there you looked around a little more and there was literally no one. A panic immediately started to hit you, you can’t be stuck in here seriously. Minji saw how uncomfortable you were and decided to give you a little hug whispering “hey calm down, we are going to get out of here. Let’s call someone” minji maybe was too calm about this whole situation but deep inside she was having a little panic attack. Yeah she didn’t show much emotions but that didn’t mean she didn’t care about people’s feelings, she just couldn’t express with words but her actions did.

You called the school principal and he said that they will come get the both out while waiting you decide to make a little chit chat to burn some time and comfort you a little. “I know this might sound weird but have you had any crush” this was the basic middle school dudes question while playing truth or dare but in this situation you didn’t honestly care, If she wants to think your weird then so be it. “Yeah” she answered tone little softer now, as a nosy person you couldn’t help but ask who, “oooh do you mind telling me who?” You said to excited, she gave you a little smirk making a point below your stomach tingle “what about I will describe it and you should guess, I’m pretty sure you know them” she said in a seductive voice immediately shocking you seeing the new side of her, your not complaining tho it was pretty hot. “Why not, tell me” you said too excited. “Hmmm well she is a girl, she is very gorgeous and adorable, she has never interacted with me before but did now and Uhmm her mental health hasn’t been the best which was secretly hurting me. I have always admired her from a far” she uttered scooting closer to you. Her description definitely had some suspicion in you, deep inside you wanted it to be you but the chances of her licking you were very very slim. “Uhm I don’t…know, please tell me” you stated. She was so close to you now, “hmm sure why not” she brought her face near you inches a part. Your breath hitched and you closed your eyes, she brought her plush lips to your pair and soon you felt something kissing you softly, when she moved her lips from yours, you were shocked a good shocked tho. “Did this tell enough, princess or…?” She questioned looking deep into your eyes, intoxicating you with her pair of eyes almost like hypnotizing you and before you knew you grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her into a deep kiss passionate and warm. She immediately kissed back, placing her hand on your upper back and gently laying you down. She took her skirt off revealing her erection, and damn, was she big? She was huge and her length being hard doubling it size. Without much of thinking you grabbed it touching it earning a groan from her, she was thick and had girth. You went on your knees and saw how her tip was filled with precum. Your tongue exploring her tip and length, her precum was very creamy but salty. Her hand found its way to your neck and squeezed it “don’t tease doll!” Her breath hitched. You tried to take her in one go but she was too big. She gave you a dark giggle full of lust “too big for you baby?” You tried to take her one more time but you gagged uncontrollably while coughing. But still you wanted to please her so you started sucking half of her length, bobbing your head around it. Soon after she started twitching inside your mouth, breath getting faster and moans getting louder. Without warning her thick white salty cum filled your mouth. She looked you in the eyes “swallow it, all of it” and as a good girl you obeyed her, swallowing her release. She was satisfied,way too satisfied. “On all fours baby, mommy is going to reward you for being so good” the excitement of her words flood your brain and your body immediately reacted to her, taking off your pants and panties leaving you with only an oversized shirt. And getting onto all fours, she groaned seeing how obedient you are for her. She couldn’t wait anymore and gave you her whole length, not even letting you adjust to her, immediately thrusting passionately hitting spots you never thought existed. Bumping into your g-spot and to spots people never even named. Her ruthless pace never cooled down if anything it only got rougher, with few more thrusts and few ass reddening spanks your release flood all over your thighs. Her relentless pace didn’t stop, the way you got now tighter made her eyes roll back and a hitched groan came from her “fuck baby so tight”. With how clenching you are around her length it didn’t take her long to feel her high close. Few seconds later she pulled out and white sperm got released on your back.

#new jeans x reader #new jeans x fem reader #new jeans minji #kim minji smut #kim minji x reader #kim minji x reader smut #new jeans minji x reader #minji smut

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spaceycowboys · 2 years

Text

echoes of your name inside my mind

pairing: aemond targaryen x female!reader; aegon targaryen x female!reader (one sided)

summary: aegon has a constant reminder that you will never be his, no matter how badly he wishes you to be. or maybe you could be.

warnings: light smut, yandere!aegon, pining!aegon, oral sex (female receiving), fingering (female receiving), NONCON/DUBCON SEX (female receiving but not reader and not heavily detailed), noncon voyeurism, violence, threats of bodily harm, unconsented kiss, aegon is a lil creepy, not edited, will return later to edit. open ended for possible part two if anyone wants it, please let me know if i missed anything!

notes: repost because i am convinced tumblr hates me. i am not 100% pleased with this if i am being honest :( but i am still wanting to post it! i think it turned out good, it just didn’t end up exactly like i had wanted it too. thank you everyone for all your patience while waiting for this fic, and thank you everyone for being so kind when i had to delay due to being ill, i appreciate each and every one of you. i imagine this ready being the same tyrell!reader from my fic starry eyes sparking up my darkest night but not necessarily a sequel to it! just could possibly be in the same universe. please interact and leave a comment or reblog and let me know your thoughts, feedback of any kind if always so appreciated! please heed warnings before you consume this content! i don’t want anyone reading anything that may make them uncomfortable. title credits: don’t blame me by taylor swift

word count: 4.1k

Aegon’s never felt this way before. The swelling in his chest so unfamiliar when you smile softly at him, a smile you typically reserve for your husband, directed towards him across the table at dinner.

Your hair is down this evening, something you’ve only started doing recently. Foregoing the braids and just letting it fall down your back, it looks better with the way it frames your face when it’s down, Aegon thinks to himself. By the looks of it, Aemond thinks so to.

Aemond loves you, his sweet and kindhearted lady wife, so very deeply. At one point it would’ve made Aegon sick to his stomach to witness, willing him to throw up whatever . The way he dotes on you, holds your hand while you walk through the Keep, brushes your hair back when it gets in the way of your reading, tenderly rubs your face with his thumbs when you get excited while talking.

It still does make him sick to his stomach, just not in the same way it used to. No. This sickness crawls at his chest, a feeling so cold yet so hot, and his stomach twists into tight knots, hands clamp up and throat swells in an unfamiliar way. It makes him feel like he’s dying.

Perhaps he is. Maybe not having a love like the love you hold for Aemond will ultimately be what kills him. He’s sure Helaena could love him if he could show her any kindness. He doesn’t want that kind of love from Helaena.

Aegon’s eyes watch as Aemond continues his conversation with Jason Lannister, but hand reaches for yours as you speak animatedly with Helaena about something.

His ears are ringing as he grabs the cup full of wine and downs it in two gulps. Aemond’s hand squeezes yours twice, you smile at Helaena as you squeeze his back. The servant girl refills his cup for him, tearing his eyes away from your joined hands he looks to her.

Her hair is the same color as yours. Though, her eyes aren’t the same color, eyebrows aren’t the same shape, lips are quiet a bit smaller than yours. Her hand looks about the same size as yours, even if it is rougher and has callouses.

She will do. He supposes.

“What is your name?” He looks away from her as he asks, and her hold on the pitcher tightens.

“I’m sorry?” Her voice is shaky, she’s already annoying him.

His head snaps back to hers, eyes boring deeply into her own as the girl feels her blood run cold, “I asked you for your name.”

She looks around the table. Her eyes lingering at the Queen, his mother, Helaena, and you for a moment.

“My name is Elaine, my Prince,” He hums a bored tone before nodding.

“I will require wine in my chambers after dinner, Elaine.” His voice isn’t soft, and he doesn’t hide what he plans on doing later.

His mother looks furious, Helaena just looks down at her plate. You, however, you look almost disappointed. As if you couldn’t believe he would do such a thing, let alone in front of his own wife.

Aemond pulls your eyes away from Aegon, a frown adorning his face when he notices the grimace on your own. His eyes looks at the shame on Helaena’s and the anger on his mothers as she looks at his older brother before he puts together what must’ve occurred.

He clears his throat and gives lord Lannister a tight smile, “I must apologize, my Lord. My wife is quite tired today and seems to be ready to retire,”

The words are a courtesy, not much else, everyone at the table except Jason Lannister seems aware of that, “Can your lady wife not see herself to bed, my Prince?”

Aemond’s hand twitches at the implied disrespect, but it’s Aegon who speaks up, “Are you implying that that my brother should allow my Good Sister, his lady wife, to head to bed alone?”

Jason Lannister looks uncomfortable at the attention of the table now being on him, “I meant nothing of it, my Prince. I just meant a Lady can typically see herself to bed while her husband continues his evening,” He ends the statement with an awkward escaping his mouth at the heated eyes of the two Princes as well as the distressed eye of the Queen at the impending argument.

You clear your throat, dainty hand reaching for you husbands nervously, “Ah, yes, Lord Lannister. I am sure I could find my rest alone, however; my husband has been very tired as of late, and I require him to have an appropriate amount of rest.”

Aegon watches Lord Lannister like a hawk, demanding him to imply any further sort of insult to you. When the Lord stays quiet, averting his gaze to the Hand of the King, Aegon allows his eyes to travel back to you and Aemond, watching distastefully as he places his hand on the small of your back to lead you to your private quarters.

εїз

The servant girl, Elaine, doesn’t struggle when he grabs her waist and pushes her face down on his bed when she walks in. She knows what she’s here for, but Aegon can’t help but feel irritated she didn’t even bother to actually bring any wine. The lack of drink will make the experience harder for him, the more sober he is the more he’ll be able to realize the woman beneath him isn’t you.

She doesn’t struggle when he grabs her hair tightly, groaning when he thinks of it being you beneath him, his cock stirring to life at the thought of you being beneath him as he lets his imagination run wild.

She does, however, cry when his cock enters her. She isn’t nearly as wet as Aegon would like for her to be, but he can make do. It’s not like he truly cares much for her pleasure anyway.

When she gets to loud, he presses her face harder into the mattress and thrusts into her a little faster. Her sobbing ruining his mood, but not enough for him to stop.

He thinks of you. Your soft smile that you sent him at dinner, the way your eyes lit up when you spoke with Helaena as she talked about the twins, the way the neckline of your dress dipped almost too low to be considered modest.

Fuck, he can’t stop wondering what your bare chest looks like, if you like it when your nipples are sucked on, if you prefer being on top.

The thoughts of you have him cumming after a few more thrusts. When he pulls out, the sobbing maid stands shakily and looks to him, silently begging to be dismissed. He waves his hand towards the door after telling her to expect a visit from his mother.

εїз

Aegon doesn’t spend much time in the library, he’s never been one to care for learning any histories or reading silly stories, but he knows you do, which is maybe why after hearing Aemond would be gone for the afternoon he heads towards the library. Silently hoping for a moment alone with you, just to be in your presence for a mere moment before leaving the Keep for the remainder of the day until he’s drug back to the castle and more than likely forced into bed with Helaena.

When he turns a corner around a large shelf housing books, his eyes nearly pop out of his skull in surprise.

His eyes must be deceiving him, there is no way Aemond would have you in such a position where people could see you.

But he does.

Aegon feels like he’s intruding on something, and honestly he knows he is. But he can’t tear his eyes away.

Aemond has you pressed up against a bookshelf, one hand pressed against your chest to hold you in place. He’s under the skirt of your dress, though Aegon can’t see what Aemond is doing, he has an inkling of what’s going on beneath your skirts.

He’s heard whispers of your husband’s insatiable appetite for you, how maids would often be searching for you only to find you in a semi-public area with your husband’s head between your legs or roughly fucking you from behind. He’d thought they were lying, honestly. There was no way Aemond would doing such a thing, his self-righteous brother wouldn’t dare do such a thing to his sweet wife.

Apparently he does.

You’re biting your lip to keep any noises from coming out, whatever Aemond’s doing with his mouth beneath your skirts, you’re very much enjoying.

It’s not really the first time Aegon has seen the two of you in such a position, but never in a public place. Not that anyone but the two of you really visit this particular library.

Usually when Aegon watches, he watches from a distance. There is a balcony on a tower that if he stands at the right angle he can see in your room is his go to spot. Or, when he’s feeling desperate, he’ll hide in the tunnels of the Keep, standing outside the one leading to your room with his cock in his hand as he listens to your moans and pleas as Aemond fucks you harshly.

“Aemond,” Your voice is a breathy moan, it sounds like heaven.

Your hands rest at your sides, clenched tightly as your husband eats you as if you’re the last meal he’ll be allowed to have. Which Aegon can’t ever say it out loud, but he would do the same. He’s never been one for giving oral, but if he could live and breath between your thighs, he mouth would rarely leave your cunt.

Your moans have Aegon’s cock stirring to life beneath his pants as he watches. He doesn’t know how long Aemond has been committing the taste of you to his memory, nor how close you are to cumming, but if he had to guess you’re close.

Your body is tensing, hands gripping the edge of the bookshelf so tightly he wonders if it will break, moans getting louder and nose scrunching up. Chants of his brother’s name, Aemond, Aemond, Aemond leave your mouth is desperate, pitchy whines. Whole body shaking as his brother’s hand moves from your chest to take one of your own and intertwine your fingers.

The loving gesture has Aegon’s cock softening as he bites back a scoff. It’s easier for him to watch when Aemond has had a rough day, more interested in taking in the moment rather than giving. When Aemond is soft, it’s not as easy for him to remember who you are to him, who he is to his brother.

Your breathing evens out but your hand stays intertwined with his brothers, eyes still closed in the afterglow of your orgasm. Aegon decides to take his leave when he notices his brother moving under your skirt. He doesn’t want his mother to think any less of him than she already does; for not only lusting for is good sister, but for watching as his brother pleasures her.

He can always find you later, he supposes.

εїз

Aegon does find you later.

He finds you sitting in the Godswood, praying to the Old Gods just as you pray to the Seven in the Sept with Helaena.

“You pray to the Old Gods often, sister?” His voice startles you, a laugh slipping past his lips as you turn to him with wide eyes.

“Prince Aegon, you frightened me,” Your voice is as soft as it always is, steady as if not to show how much he actually frightened you moments before.

“Apologies, sweet sister,” He hums out, as he makes his way over to sit next to you in front of the weirwood tree, “I did not know your family had the faith of the Old Gods,”

You hum softly before glancing over at him, “During my time in Winterfell I became quite fond of their faith,”

Aegon feels his stomach turn sour at the mention of your time in Winterfell, when Cregan Stark had been the one your father had been leaning most towards for your betrothal, up until his grandsire and mother sent a letter offering Aemond’s hand.

“You spent a lot of time there?” He know how long you spent there, how fond you became of the North and the people, of Cregan. His brother spoke about the distaste he held for the Starks often after you had been moved here permanently as his.

“Hm, a little over a year, it was very different than Highgarden, and very different than here,” You trail off, talking highly of the North.

Aegon stops listening to your words, opting to watch the way your mouth moves as you speak. He doesn’t know what comes over him, maybe it’s the close proximity, or perhaps it’s the fact that it’s the first time you’ve actually been alone with him, he isn’t sure.

But one minute, your speaking and smiling, then the next, Aegon’s mouth is on your own. A gasp of pure shock escapes you, eyes wide in horror.

Your mouth is as soft as he imagined it would be, but you rip yourself away from him before he can truly savor the taste of you.

You look like you’ve been struck, eyes wide with tears lining them and mouth open in shock. Aegon’s throat tightens up at the look of betrayal on your face, “What have you done?”

His hands shake as he reaches for your own shaky ones, bile rising in his throat as you stand quickly and move to leave the area, more than likely to find your husband and tell him what his brother has done.

“Wait,” He rushes to follow you, “Wait! I’m sorry, fuck! I don’t know what came over me?”

His hand grabs your wrist, squeezing tightly as he turns you towards him, “I’m sorry. I don’t- Please don’t tell Aemond,”

You struggle to pull yourself away from him, causing his grip to tighten even more as he shoves you up against a nearby. You can feel it bruising, “Of course I am telling him! He is my husband, and you have dishonored me!”

He winces, “No, no I haven’t. I would never, you don’t understand. It was a mistake. I did not mean to,”

“You did not mean to? What was your intention then, Aegon?”

He sighs, frustration rising in him as he looks at you and your stupid, beautiful face, “I love you,”

Horror bleeds into your features, “No!”

A halfhearted laugh escapes him, “Indeed, my Lady,” he nudges his nose against your own, causing you to jerk away from him.

“Aegon-“

“Don’t say anything,” He whispers softly, mouth ghosting against your own, “Don’t ruin the moment.”

Tears fall down your cheeks as you look at the man before you. He’s smaller than his brother, but still bigger than you. And his nails are now digging into your wrist painfully, blood seeps through his fingertips.

You’ve heard the whispers, your own handmaidens doing their best to keep you from the older prince due to them. The whispers of how when he travels to the streets of silk, he requests women who look similar to you, or enough like you from behind. How your husband never allows you to be alone with his brother. You didn’t want to believe them, refused even.

You cannot ignore the words as they whirl around in your head now.

His face is in your neck, nose nudging at the junction of where your shoulder and neck meet as he inhales your scent and sighs.

“When I’m King, I could take you from him. I’ll get rid of him, rid myself of Helaena. Just you and me, sweet girl,”

Your ears are ringing, fear rushing through your veins as you begin struggling against him as sobs escape you, “Please let me go, Aegon. Please don’t hurt me,”

The fear that bleeds through your words cause him to rip away from you, as if your touch burned him. He looks as if he’s actually seeing you for the first time since he kissed you.

Your face is wet with tears and snot, hair slightly disheveled from the struggle, wrist bruised and bleeding from where he was gripping you. It shames his to watch you struggle to catch your breath, you are obviously struggling heavily with what he’s done, and his veins are on fire looking at you. He’s disgusted with himself as he feel his cock harden at your appearance.

“I’m, fuck, I’m sorry,” He’s sorry he hurt you, but he’s not sorry about much else. He knows your going to tell Aemond, and he won’t be lying when his brother comes to confront him. He may be a pig, but he can’t bring himself to dishonor you or imply you a liar.

He watches as your wipe your face, watching him wearily as you slowly leave, surly rushing to find a handmaiden to help you clean yourself up.

He decides to go to his room and wait for Aemond to visit him, or his mother. He supposed it’ll be whichever you run into first.

εїз

Aemond feels his blood boiling as he marches from your room to Aegon’s. Fury flooding his veins as he grinds his teeth together.

The state he found you in was heartbreaking, blood on your wrist still flowing as you cried and sobbed out what had happened before getting on your knees and clinging to him like a child, begging him to not be angry with you.

Anger was never an emotion Aemond felt like he could possess towards you. After all, you’re his sweet, sweet wife. He loves you.

Aegon, on the other hand, is a different story. He knows that no matter how bad he wants to, he can’t kill his brother. He wishes he could, but his mother would be furious if he did so.

He dismisses the guards as he walks into his brother’s room. Aegon stands, preparing himself for a fight immediately, only to be caught slightly by surprise as his brother gives him a once over and then starts laughing.

Aemond laughs, an actual humor filled laugh, “I’m sorry, truly, this is just so fucking funny,”

Aegon flushes, a deep red covering his face, “What?”

“Are you fucking stupid?” Aemond grits out through clenched teeth, “She is my fucking wife. My wife!”

Aegon loathes the tone in Aemond’s voice, the way he’s talking down to him as if he’s actually done something wrong, which he knows he has. But it’s not as if he raped you.

“I am painfully aware, brother-“

“No, you spoiled fucking cunt, I don’t think you are,” Aemond pushes him up against the wall harshly. “And, quite frankly, I don’t give a fuck if you are or not.”

Aegon rolls his eyes, “I know she is your fucking wife, Aemond.”

Aemond’s hand is on Aegon’s throat before the bitter sentence spits its way out of his mouth, squeezing in a threatening manner, but not tight enough to choke him fully. If Aegon hadn’t pissed him off, and if he couldn’t see the look in his brother’s eyes, Aegon could assume he was jesting.

“If I find you even breathing near her again, I’ll cut your fucking cock off and feed it to Vhagar. You dishonor our mother, you dishonor your wife, I will not allow you to even think about attempting to dishonor mine just because you’ve decided you want her,”

It’s not a time to pick at him, Aegon knows this, yet the words come out anyway, “And yet you fuck her anywhere you can get your hands on her, that is a bit dishonoring, do you not think? Hm, little brother?”

Aemond’s fingers squeeze at Aegon’s neck, “I will fuck my wife anywhere I please, brother, because I am her fucking husband.”

He rips his hand from Aegon’s neck when he starts turning slightly purple, “I pity you, Aegon.”

Aegon growls and considers lunging at him, “I don’t want your fucking pity,”

Aemond huffs out a laugh, “No, but you do want my fucking wife. And you cannot have her,”

A fit of rage fills Aegon as he watches his brother laugh at him, “When I become King, I could annule your marriage to her, and take her for myself,”

Aemond’s face is hard again, eye gleaming in a deep anger, “If you attempt to do anything of the sorts, you will be disappointed when I turn to our older sister and back her claim,”

Aegon knows it was a low blow, and he truly never would annule your marriage to his brother. He wouldn’t want to have you against your will, despite what people say about him.

His head falls slightly, “I wanted her, at one point.”

He’s never admitted it out loud to anyone of importance, when you’d come to court with your father all those years ago, been kind to everyone you’d met, Aegon had been taken with you. A small similarity the two brothers shared despite their many differences.

He’d heard his father speak to his sister about how you’d be a good match for her son, a true Queen you’d be one day. He silently hoped his mother would try to take you from Rhaenyra and give you to him, and he’d been partially right.

His mother did fight for a marriage for her son, Aemond. While Aegon was stuck marrying his unhinged sister, his crippled brother would be given your hand if your father agreed.

Sometimes he wonders if he would have turned out different if he would’ve spoken up, but he knows he’ll never know. Aemond would probably kill you if it meant saving you from the horrors that you would most likely live if Aegon took you. His sexual appetite alone would never be satiated, Aegon knows Aemond would see it as doing you a favor.

“I know,” Aemond’s words surprise Aegon. “You know?”

“I’m not stupid. I see how you look at her, how the whores and servants you tend to ask for look like her. I know you watch when I take her,”

Aemond’s words should bring Aegon shame, but they don’t, “I am not sorry,”

It’s clearly stated, the clearest thing he’s said to Aemond in years, if they had been closer Aemond may have cared.

“And I am not sorry, either.” His hurt tone hurts Aegon’s heart, but it doesn’t hurt it more than knowing that he’ll have to watch you be with Aemond for the rest of his life. “She is my wife. You have a wife. If for whatever reason you are still unsatisfied, you have plenty of whores at your disposal, find one that looks enough like my wife to state you,”

Aemond closes his eye takes a deep breath, a look in his eye that Aegon does not recognize when Aemond looks back at him, “If you touch her again, if you draw blood from her body again or tears from her eyes, I’ll take your fucking head and gift it to her. I won’t see you near her again. I may not be able to kill you right now for harming her, but do not take this as me letting this go. You are lucky our mother loves you, because if she didn’t I would not let you live for what you’ve done. If it happens again-“

Aemond cuts himself off and shakes his head, giving his brother one final bitter look before storming out of his chambers.

As he watches Aemond walk away, Aegon’s bitter feeling molts into something deeper. His brother is right, he does have whores satiate him, plenty of them can look like you. He can shove their faces into whatever surface is near and pretend it’s you under him.

Aemond will ruin this for himself, Aegon knows it deep down, feels it in his bones. He knows Aemond is only possessive because he knows how unworthy he is of you; he’ll slip up somewhere. And when he does, when he does somehow ruin things with the pretty little rose from Highgarden in an unmendable way, and only then; Aegon will step in and show you a new form of undoubtful devotion.

Aegon will be King, a fact everyone but his cunt of a sister knows. But you? He’ll worship your body and fill you with his son before Aemond even knows what hit him. You’ll be the Queen.

#aegon ii x reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd x reader #hotd smut #aemond smut

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starhrtz · 1 year

Text

— 001. ACTING FANTASY

CHAPTER PREMISE — you didn’t expect to be dragged into a mess when you made friends with a certain red headed girl, a simple interview day somehow turned to a chaotic mess.

SERIES PREMISE — after a mysterious death, you find yourself being reborn as an actor's daughter. everything seems to be smooth-sailing in this life before you came across a strange star eyed boy during your junior year in high school. this strange yet fortune encounter leads to a spiral of love yet grief.

CONTAINS — 1.1k+ word count uhh nothinh else i think

A/N — oh em gee first chapter is finally released !!! AND YES I DID MAKE A LOT OF PJSK REFERENCES :')

series masterlist | next

"grades aren't everything-"

Your parents' voice was zoned out as your eyes stared at your report book, your smile faltered as you noticed your grades have been going down and down. What was the point in trying if your grades would always stay so low no matter how much you tried? You were always convinced that you are just like your brother, smart and the best at everything so why does this sheet of paper differ from what you heard throughout your life? Why were you third in your class, you have always been at the top so why are you dropping all of a sudden? You still remembered clearly, the two classmates snickering and smirking at you proudly showing off their grades. They…don't deserve it, your teeth were gritted as you walked home.

Why was it them who were at the top? None of their work was as good as yours, their grammar and sentence structure needed work… right? Oh, how you hated their grins, you could tell by their faces that they knew you hated losing especially coming in third place but they also knew that you suspected them of using their parent's money to bribe the school. What kind of school is this? Letting people bribe the school staff just so they could be at the top? What a bunch of spoiled-

"Hinomori, are you alright?"

A voice snapped you out of your train of thought, you took a deep breath before looking over to your new friend and potential classmate. (name) hinomori was the new identity you yield after the incident, that grin that they had on their face… It reminded you of your classmates. You haven't told anyone about your reincarnation, your family not your group mates after all they'll most likely call you crazy or just laugh it off thinking it was a joke. Reincarnation… was a silly thing if you had to be honest, perhaps the fate you suffered from really was a cruel one? You plastered on a reassuring smile and looked at the red-haired girl.

"Mhm just slightly nervous about the interview that's all, but you do know you could call me by my first name.. Kana."

"Y-yeah, I know I'm just not used to it that's all! I am a big fan of your work too…"

Kana exclaimed while whispering the last part which you slightly laughed at before Kana was called to the interview room. Yota high school was one of the few schools which had a performing arts program, though it was only eligible to people affiliated with a company it did make you feel grateful you and your friends were scouted not long ago by SEKAI productions due to their recent project wanting groups with different personalities to make a debut under their name yet the company was far from sketchy. All the staff and idols were always welcoming to new debuts, even going as far as a small party.

You looked out the window as you waited your turn, it disappointed you that none of the other members of A✩𝖱𝖠 came to this school so sadly you were alone in this school… You sighed before hearing your name being called out by one of the interviewers, Kana gave you a confident smile and a thumbs up wishing you good luck. You smiled and gave her a quick wink as you walked into the performing arts room, you shouldn't show any signs of fear or hesitation that was one of the things your parents taught you whenever they made you go for auditions.

"I'm (name) Hinomori, affiliated with SEKAI Productions."

. . . . . . . . . . . .

As you walked out of the interview room, you breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps you should ask Airi to make the choreography a little easier later, though you knew you most likely aced the interview judging by the interviewer's faces alone. You sighed as you walked the empty hallways,though you were rather happy about being born into such a successful life it still sort of upsets you when you had to attend high school again after all your senior year was where your grades started going downhill…

“WHAT THE HECK!!?!”

Kana’s shrieking could be heard from further down the hall way. Yet when you reached there you saw Kana along with two other people who you don’t reconsider, but judging by Kana’s face they might be her friends..?

“I’LL BULLY YOU, I REALLY WIL-“

“Kana, there you are!”

You exclaimed walking up to the trio, while the blonde boy seemed to be confused on who you are yet the girl who you assumed to be his sister seems to be starstrucked? Their eyes… were pretty. That was the first thing that came to your mind as you got a better view of how they look, you snapped out of your thoughts before looking back at Kana.

“I didn’t want to be the crying girl’s junior but if it means that Hinomori could be my senior, I’ll gladly endure her whining!”

“Hey I got ears, ya’know!”

You muffled a giggle as you watched the two argue, was the brother too used to this type of situation? It looked like the two weren’t going to stop arguing anytime soon, you sighed and looked at the blonde boy who seemed rather deep in thought.

“Wait, have you worked with Gotanda Taishi before? I think I saw you once in his films…”

You looked up with them and nervously smiled, even when your parents were actors somehow… it didn’t suit right you or perhaps it made you slightly cringed whenever you watched clips of yourself acting though it was most likely the latter if you had to be honest, yet even when you told your parents about your decision to quit acting they weren’t upset. Sure, in their eyes there was disappointment but it held approval as well perhaps because you made your own choice of career paths at a young age?

“I haven’t heard that name in a while… but yeah I did. Why’d you ask?”

He shrugged his shoulders, after all what was he meant to say? That the director, his boss, used one of your quotes that you had said on tv once to try and motivate him? Of course not, scaring you wasn’t his goal and he was pretty sure Ruby might kill him if he tries and scare you away from them.

“Well, see ya, I’m heading over to the director’s place.”

Somehow, you felt it was directed to you yet it caught Kana’s attention, immediately breaking away from her and Ruby’s petty fight though could it really be considered a fight? “Wait where do you think your going!” Kana shouted running after Aqua, taking your hand and following him. Oh god, what have you dragged yourself into now?

please do reblog or comment if you like this!! It rlly makes me motivated to see positive comments or reblogs w tags!!

➜ TAGLIST: @aranachan @cerisearan @miyakoa @yevene @atomi-mi @bajifairyy @itonashi @lxry-chxn @rymtea @kult-o

#oshi no ko x reader #oshi no ko fanfic #oshi no ko #aqua x reader #aqua hoshino x reader #aquamarine hoshino x reader #aqua hoshino #aquamarine x reader #aquamarine #aquamarine hoshino #oshi no ko aqua #x reader #★ — writing

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ddarker-dreams · 2 years

Text

He Who Hides Behind a Mask.

Scaramouche x F!Reader.

Warnings: Scaramouche is a mess, Reader is honestly a mess too, implied not SFW. Word count: 6k.

Note: originally, this story was going to be lot darker (haha), but after the 3.1 cutscene... i decided mr. mouche can have a break just this once. as a treat. please handle him with care. he really needs all of it he can get. anyway here’s my love letter to my fav genshin character.

You are, without a doubt, the worst human in the world.

If Scaramouche was labeled an eccentric by his peers throughout the centuries, he wonders what that would make you. Whatever conventions you abide by are a complete mystery to him. Perhaps you damaged your head at some point in your life and are now living with the consequences. Or, your head has made it out mostly unscathed, and you really are just this foolish for no good reason. That miserable doctor might say there’s an explanation behind every phenomenon, but the charlatan surely would change his tune if he met you.

What else could possibly explain why you have the audacity to waltz into his office, entirely unannounced, scuttling about like you owned the place?

… And if that isn’t worse enough, why does he let you?

“I brought some reports from Yaroslav and Stepan,” you slap said reports on his desk, then stretch your arms over your head. Scaramouche purses his lips as he contemplates how wide open you’ve left yourself to attack. He considers chastising you but decides against it this time, feeling otherwise preoccupied with your words. He’ll save that lecture for another day. Lord knows he has plenty building up already.

“Did they offer any explanation as to why they sent you in their stead?” Scaramouche scoffs, straightening the papers out and giving them a once over. If memory serves, this time-sensitive information was supposed to be here hours ago. He would’ve hunted the two aforementioned slackers down himself had he not been so inundated with other matters. Really, he shouldn’t be dilly-dallying with you at all, he should just wave you off so he can focus again.

Emphasis on the word should. He knows he most definitely won’t. Not when he had to bite his lower lip to stop a smile from spreading upon you barging in.

You unclasp your standard-issued Fatui mask from your face and toss it aside. “Well, if you want my opinion—”

“I can’t say I ever do, really.”

“—Okay, I’ll be ignoring that comment. Anyway, back to my opinion. I believe they find your lordship unpleasant. Horrifying. The worst company anyone could ask for. Had it not been for the fact they were wearing gloves, those papers would’ve been soaked from how much they were sweating.”

Gross mental image aside, he laser focuses on the insults you so freely flung in his direction. “If my company is ‘the worst anyone could ask for’, why is it you seek me out like a pest so often?”

You help yourself to the chair in front of his desk. Scaramouche had never seen anyone aside from you use it, since the few trembling Fatui agents that managed to survive their encounters here never risked staying long enough to test the furniture. It might as well belong to you at this point. As does the windowsill you somehow manage to balance yourself on when the sun is beaming in, the couch, his bed in the attached room…

“What kind of pest are we talking about here? Bugs or rodents?”

He rolls his eyes. You’re so purposefully obtuse that it’s a wonder your back isn’t bent a hundred degrees. “A mutation between them that maximizes both of their worst qualities.”

“One, that’s too cool to be an insult,” you put a gloved finger up, “And two, I’m convinced that if I didn’t keep you company, you’d go crazy from loneliness and zap everyone to death. I consider this a community service.”

Oddly enough, you might be spot on. What was that phrase again? A broken clock is right twice a day? He mentally rephrases it so that the ‘twice’ becomes ‘once’. He can’t be giving you more credit than is absolutely necessary. While he doesn’t have definitive proof you’re a telepath, it’s too much of a risk to presume otherwise. Your ability to read him is just… uncanny. He has his suspicions.

“You’ve been slacking in your supposed community service then, seeing as you’ve been gone the past week.”

Oh no, that came out way more bitter than he intended. And oh no, now you’re smiling, not the kind he’d begrudgingly call cute should his enemies ever waterboard the information out of him, either. This variation is the worst. Malignance hidden behind a veil of purity. The stuff of nightmares. It’s the ohh-you’re-so-taken-with-me-aren’t-you smile that puts his reputation of being cool and composed on the line. He can’t have that, not with you. It does away with the telepath theory that he desperately clings to.

If you’re somehow not a mind reader, then the only other explanation is that he’s made himself vulnerable enough for you to understand him. He doesn't like the thought of that. Not at all. The possibility pricks at him like a thousand needles, jamming in from all directions. Sharp and digging so deep past the surface, that removing them would cause him to bleed out.

With far more confidence in your gait than he would’ve preferred, you stride over, slinging an arm around his shoulder. The touch fills him with warmth, and still, he shivers.

“Did you miss me?”

There it is — a final blow worthy of taking him out. He wouldn’t succumb to flesh wounds, time’s passage, or elemental attacks that could level nations. It was only the sweet words that left your lips that held the high honor of potentially doing him in. Scaramouche is left stupefied. He doesn’t think about the two bumbling idiots that used you to avoid his wrath, the workload piling up as each second passes, or how grating his fellow Harbingers are.

Absolutely nothing else in this existence registers aside from you.

How close you are, how right it feels when your bodies connect, the scent of pine trees and brown sugar that make up the shampoo he knows you favor. The very shampoo he uses in your absence to try and placate himself until you return.

Emotions brew within him like the tempest above Seirai Island in his homeland. He hides it by biting down on his bottom lip, somehow managing to keep the cracks of his porcelain façade from spreading further. Once the damage is done, he hasn’t the slightest clue on how to go about fixing it. All he knows is that you are the one inflicting the damage. Far more than you could ever know. Far more than any veneer could ever polish.

With a strained tone, he manages to free the words that were lodged in his throat.

“You’re so full of yourself. Of course I didn’t.”

ii.

Scaramouche never thought he’d be able to desire a human body as much as he does yours.

It wasn’t until he made your acquaintance that he could understand how scholars went mad in pursuit of knowledge they’d never obtain. They knew it was a fruitless endeavor too, as did he, and still, what other choice did they have but to continue their studies at the expense of themselves? He was a creation — you were created. A line separates you both that he would always pass if it meant he could get the slightest taste. The blame all lies with you. Had you not tempted him, he’s certain he would’ve had the wherewithal to resist.

Or maybe that was just another pretty lie he wove, for he’s more comfortable claiming you’ve trapped him when he’s every bit the willing prisoner.

He once found the human body to be a miracle, something to envy in his earlier days. An unobtainable treasure for a tossed aside husk like himself.

He’s since rectified that naive line of thinking. What was so good about blood that couldn’t clot itself fast enough to heal mortal wounds in an instant? Skin that inevitably withers and sags from brittle bones? A heart that could kill its host should it beat too slow or too fast? The design was subpar. His being triumphed over it in every conceivable category. In the same way a swan would never pause to consider the appearance of a worm in light of its own beauty, Scaramouche thought he lacked the capacity to admire anyone other than himself. He figured that if he’d gone five centuries without finding anyone worthwhile, such a mythological figure must never exist. His modus operandi remained firm. Distrust miserable humanity, mock the foolish gods who are far less omnipotent than they’d like to admit.

Then you stumbled into the picture. No grace, no poise, only offering whatever it is you offer that he apparently just can’t get enough of. Addiction would be putting it lightly.

He runs his fingers over the hand-shaped bruises forming on your hips, then the blotches he greedily left behind on your neck. He considers the faded bites he had left around your collarbone upon receiving news you were to be away for a week on a job. He shifts himself, allowing the light from the full moon to illuminate where you returned the favor in kind, only to find the skin had healed completely. He frowns and tugs at his yukata to hide the perfection.

Indeed, you were subpar in comparison to his own divine design, but he couldn’t help but take a liking toward what your body was capable of. Far from revulsion yet not quite envy. This new emotion that bloomed in his chest went unidentified on purpose, for he never wished to give it a name.

Your body told stories, whereas his scrubbed the words clean from the pages, lest anyone ever read them.

A soft exhale from your sleeping figure draws his attention. You help yourself to snuggling deeper into his pillows, a content little smile on your lips that were raw from his various ministrations. He fights back a laugh at the state of your hair, sticking in enough directions to rival a compass. Absent-mindedly, he smooths out what he can. He’s probably not in a much better state himself. You were such a hair grabber. Perhaps all his spoiling made you impatient.

After running out of good excuses to stare at and touch you, he lays back down. His bed is far more inviting now that you’re back in it. Even if you have an unseemly habit of hogging the blankets.

“I did miss you… a bit.”

He whispers it as if it were a confession he’d clung to his entire life, only letting go moments before eternal slumber so that he may know peace. Scaramouche isn’t sure why he’s so adamant about denying you the truth. Is it pride? The thrill of being chased and sought after? Or, more realistically, and far uglier, could it be cowardice? He thought he had removed the filth that is emotion from his being. He declared it to be so, reveled in it, found solace that stretched centuries because of it.

You’ve reawoken that which lays dormant within him. If there’s anything the discarded puppet understands, it’s the danger that comes from rousing things from their sleep.

Much to his alarm, you stir, and he freezes like a thief caught in the diabolical act. You mutter some words that he can’t quite make out. Then, seemingly content with your change in position, you’re out like a light once more. His tense shoulders relax and he almost sighs from relief. He decides it’s too early to entirely let his guard down, not until he can confirm you aren’t faking slumber for some insidious machinations. He wouldn’t put it past you.

“You irritate me,” he murmurs, using the same volume that he did before.

Nothing.

“Your plant died because I forgot to water it like you asked me to.”

Still nothing.

“... Personality aside, you have some attractive qualities.”

Nada.

Huh. So he was being paranoid for nothing. He huffs in frustration, whether it can be attributed mostly to you or himself, he cannot say for certain. What he does know is that the sun will be rising in a few short hours and he hasn’t gotten a wink of sleep. The fault lies with you, he decides. If you weren’t so pleasant to look at, he’d have been well on his way to dozing off. Every anomaly in his life can be traced back to you like an elaborate tapestry. He’s thought about ripping it off from the hinges, igniting each thread until it frays, warming himself with the fire that he’d start and maintain.

While it might be difficult at first, in the long run, it should make everything easier. Get his focus back onto his lifelong grudges and goals.

But when he feels how your palm locks perfectly into place against his, he decides the warmth he gets from you as you are now is superior. Even if it means that he might possibly be the one to go down in flames instead.

iii.

“Hey, [First].”

“Hm?”

“If I said that I hated you, would you believe me?”

You take a pause from sipping on the tea he prepared. Your fingers trace the outer ring of the yunomi, eyeing the steam rising from the murky green liquid inside. Unfortunately for Scaramouche, you’d witnessed him preparing matcha tea in the classic Inazuman style, and often bugged him to make you some. He always complained about how high maintenance you were yet never refused the request. The one time you pointed this out, he hastily made the excuse that you talk less and are generally more bearable when your mouth is preoccupied. This earned him a wink that set his face ablaze.

“I think it’d depend on your reason for hating me,” you decide.

He raises an eyebrow at this. “Do I have to have a reason?”

“Well, yeah. Otherwise, you’re not putting your heart into it. It’s too tepid. Go big or go home, as they say.”

Who exactly says that…?

“And what if I don’t have a heart?” Scaramouche proposes. You’re giving him a weird look. He knows he’s being overly cryptic and searching for answers you could never give, but he can’t stop himself. There’s a certain satisfaction to be found in getting all passionate over a perceived wrong. Searching for offenses hidden beneath the reeds that simply aren’t there, yet settling on labeling the rough shape of it just that. He likes it when others make mistakes in his presence. When he has an excuse to belittle and berate them.

What that says about himself, he could care less. Very few have the power and or courage to call him out on it.

He’s scrutinizing your every movement. From the fluttering of your eyelashes against your cheeks to how you readjust your posture, searching and searching for the perfect opening for him to lunge at. He needs it from you, he realizes, in the same way lost humans in the desert need water.

Scaramouche starts drumming his fingers on the ground. Why are you taking so long to respond? Normally, you would’ve rattled off on some nonsensical tangent by now that he’d claim to only be half paying attention to when he actually soaked up every word. Could it be that you sense the underlying severity that he tried so hard to mask? Or is his telepath theory gaining newfound credence again?

He has to sever this connection with you. If he doesn’t, every time he tries to pull away, he’ll snap right back in your direction.

“The way I see it,” you start, five words that make him internally cringe yet lean in nonetheless, “Your heart is a work-in-progress. An ongoing project.”

“What?” He deadpans. Whatever he was expecting, it certainly wasn’t this.

“Hold on, I’m not finished yet. You can’t judge me until I’m done.”

He has reason to disagree but keeps that sentiment to himself.

You set the near-empty yunomi onto the ground and look him straight in the eye. “A heart is what guides you. It takes you in all sorts of directions, good and bad. You’ll think to yourself, ‘why did I do something so stupid, when I knew it was stupid’, and well, that’s because of your heart. So as far as I see it, anyone capable of messing up has a heart.”

You tap your head with your knuckles and he’s semi-amazed it’s not a hollow sound that comes forth. “See, if we only used this and abided purely by logic, we’d all be super boring and perfect. That’s where our heart comes in. It sends us spiraling all over the place and makes things interesting.”

“So you’re saying because I’m stupid and have the capacity to ‘mess up’, I have a heart?”

“Well, I would’ve gone for an artsier flare in trying to sum up what I said, but I guess that’s the gist of it.”

“I’ll be generous and overlook the incredibly foolish nature of your words that defy all sensibility—”

“Wow, thanks.”

“—And entertain your assertion with one final question before I drop the subject. You still haven’t elaborated on the work-in-progress part. Explain.”

“Oh, this one’s simple,” you nod with confidence that makes zero sense to him. “It’s only a work-in-progress because you haven’t realized you already have a heart. Once you figure that part out, you’ll be all set.”

You have the audacity to conclude this world-shattering statement with a thumbs up. Scaramouche gawks at you, vacillating between incredulity and sheer awe over your apparent nerves of steel. Grown men cower in his presence. Villages and settlements are razed on his command. He could very well ascend to godhood one day so that he might tear the false stars from the sky. And here you sit, speaking candidly with him, as if it was the most normal thing.

You interrupt his thoughts by holding the empty yunomi in his direction. “Would it be okay if I had some more of this stuff? It’s delicious.”

He yanks the yunomi with far more force than necessary, turns his back to you, and starts assembling the necessary tools while muttering obscenities under his breath. The matcha powder is all but flung into the bowl. Stupid woman with a stupid pretty face making him do stupid things—

Scaramouche freezes.

You make him do stupid things?

Oh no, this is really, really bad. Wait. There’s still hope. A light at the end of the tunnel that he must run towards. If he doesn’t believe your mad ravings, because that’s definitely what they were, no doubt about it, then he’s safe. In the clear. All good. Above reproach. The implications that would arise otherwise are too damning, possibly enough to rewrite his entire existence—

You wrap your arms around him from behind and rest your head atop his. “Are you okay, Scara? I’ve seen statues move more than you have in the past few minutes.”

He swallows thickly.

“... Kunikuzushi.”

“Huh?”

“My name isn’t Scaramouche, you dullard,” he can barely ladle the hot liquid into the bowl from how much he shakes. “It’s Kunikuzushi. Remember that.”

He feels you hum, the sound low and remarkably pleasant. “Ku-ni-ku-zu-shi. Kunikuzushi. Okay, got it. What a relief. That’s way better than what I thought your actual name was.”

“What did you think my name was?” He questions, momentarily forgetting that giving into his curiosity around you often spelled trouble for him.

“Balladeer,” is your instantaneous response.

He lets out a sound he didn’t think he was capable of making anymore. You must believe this as well, for you release your hold on him, swiveling around in front with wide eyes. Scaramouche covers his traitorous face to the best of his abilities, but it’s too late. You caught a glimpse and now he will have to live with the consequences. He swats you away as you try to pry the hand covering his smile.

“Oh wow, I made you laugh!”

“You did no such thing.”

“It wasn’t a derisive laugh or anything either! I thought you could only do evil little chuckles. This is a discovery worth celebrating.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“Look who’s talking.”

For once, he doesn’t have a good response ready to fire back.

iv.

Fate is an unfunny joke, as far as Scaramouche is concerned.

He was destined for more than the hand he was dealt. A creation torn away from the higher purpose it was handmade for. Godhood, divinity, a seat amidst seven holy thrones. Fate had spat in his face and turned its back on him. Some — a certain pink-haired kitsune comes to mind — might label his various schemes a tantrum. That could be exactly what he was doing. What the fruits of hundreds of years' worth of labor ultimately amounts to. He doesn’t care if that’s the case. People could look down on petty revenge all they want, but at the end of the day, what matters is that it feels good. Vindicating, exhilarating. There is unrefined beauty in disaster when he is the orchestrator of it.

Yet for some reason or another, he doesn’t want disaster to rip its claws into you.

Your touch is different tonight and so is his. There’s a raw urgency behind it that he doesn’t care to conceal, whereas yours is sluggish, almost apathetic. It’s the antithesis of everything you are and he can’t help but find his mood soured because of it.

Scaramouche is doing everything he knows you like. Touching you in the places that normally produce such lovely noises, devouring you with his lips and body. He’s giving you everything — more than that, even — while you give him nothing. You don’t goad him on or push him away. This impossible to decipher situation has his head reeling. He wants you, he needs to have you, but not like this. Not when you aren’t yourself. For that is what he desires the most.

When he pulls back from his heated kiss, saliva connects your lips in a thin line. He grimaces at your blank expression. Why isn’t this working? In the past, when words failed him, he compensated with his actions. He’d encourage you to sing, make you throw your head back and abandon all sense of propriety, freely handing the worthless notion over to him without a second thought. You never refused to give when he went to take. So this drastic change is both abnormal and unwelcome.

“... What?” He demands, breathless. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Why does it bother him so much?

Scaramouche knows he could get up and leave. Perhaps that’s what he should do, and what he would’ve done years ago, but he’s paralyzed. You’ve injected your venom so deep inside him and he didn’t realize until it was too late. Death’s tolls are ringing in his ear to come claim him, with you standing as his executioner.

“You’re going to Inazuma,” the words come out slowly and in a tone that hardly fits you.

“Yeah? And?”

“You’re going to Inazuma without me.”

“I’m failing to see the issue here,” he grits his teeth. “Spit it out already. You’re testing my patience.”

You both glare at each other in silence for some time. A little voice in his head that he repeatedly tries to silence tells him he already knows where you’re going with this; you’re trying to give him the dignity of fessing up before he’s pressed further. You were an unrivaled master when it came to navigating the complex maze that is his existence. In any other instance, he might cave and give in. He can’t with this, it’s too imperative, the driving force that’s erred him on for countless years.

Scaramouche scoffs and moves himself off of you, settling on hanging his legs from the side of his bed. You don’t try to stop him or chase after him. You just lay there, your eyes burning on his back, ensuring that the atmosphere remains thick.

He pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. There has got to be nothing worse than when one realizes they’re in the wrong. He can count the times he’s felt this way on a single hand, most of the experiences connecting back to you in some way. Conviction eludes him otherwise. He could shock sobbing and pleading individuals to ashes without batting an eyelash, but no, the moment you’re upset, it’s all too much and he can’t handle the pressure.

Fine. You want him to come out and say it? He’ll do just that.

“I’m going to leave and betray the Fatui,” he says as if he’s discussing the weather. “I want that deplorable Electro Archon’s gnosis. I’ve waited centuries for an opportunity like this to present itself. So, if you have half a working brain, you can see why I don’t plan on having you tag along. You’ll likely be labeled a traitor too for fraternizing with me.”

He’s grateful you can’t see his face, for he doesn’t have his hat to conceal it.

If he has little reason to stick around, you have infinitely less after a cold confession like that. He’s admitted to endangering you despite knowing his plan to one day betray the organization you both are members of. He selfishly embedded himself in you regardless, soaking up your warmth and everything good you had to offer. A parasite, he thinks. That’s what I am. A parasite that grew addicted to you and took more than it could ever hope to give back. He’s discarding you in the same way his mother did to him, once his existence was deemed unfit for its desired purpose. If he considered humans untrustworthy, what does that make him?

“... Is that all you want, Kunikuzushi?”

He’s never heard your voice so soft and delicate. What a shame that out of all the times he’s felt he deserved it, it had to come now, when he knows he doesn’t.

“It is,” comes his curt response. “You’re a fool if you think otherwise.”

He has no better defense other than to say you knowingly got entangled with a Harbinger. You could argue the point, call him on his bluff, hurl every insult under the sun at him. He’d let you too — it might as well be your right. You do no such thing. You don’t even storm out of the room in a huff. Instead, you pull the sheets up to cover your bare chest, fluff out your favorite pillows, and smooth out the wrinkled blankets. Scaramouche has to glance over his shoulders to confirm what it is you’re actually doing. Sure enough, you’ve closed your eyes, and are well on your way to falling asleep.

He shakes his head in complete and utter disbelief.

It would seem that he could never understand you, not even in your last night shared together.

You don’t come to see him off on his voyage.

His ego might be larger than any numerical measurement could hope to quantify, but not even that could make him believe you’d have any kind words left for him. That was the point of him pushing you away, wasn’t it? To enjoy you up until the very last second then make a clean break? Still, he can’t help but feel troubled by the dejection looming over him like storm clouds in your absence. What a pain. It appears you’re destined to annoy him no matter the circumstances.

Standing atop the upper deck, he overlooks the desolate landscape of Schenzaya that seemingly stretches on forever. Muted grays and blues blend together in a dreary canvas befitting of his current mood. Fatui soldiers rush around from all directions, though they do their best to avoid the space Scaramouche occupies, leaving him to brood in silence. The dark aura emanating off of him does well to warn others off.

Scaramouche doesn’t understand why this debacle is troubling him so when he knew it was coming. His ultimate goal has always been obtaining a gnosis or any other path to divinity, that didn’t change when you came stumbling along. He needs to get over this inconvenience promptly. For him to fulfill his lifelong dream, he must ensure his chest is a blank slate. He even abandoned his childlike longing for a heart upon recognizing this. Everything must be stripped clean for what is to come next. This mire plaguing him is no different — he’ll wash and drown it out.

Suddenly unable to stomach the view any longer, he pivots and makes for his private cabin. The mere thought that you’re somewhere out there, far beyond his grasp, where others take kindly to you… he could almost get sick. If you were likable enough for him to ease up in your presence, who else would succumb to your charms? He balls his hands into fists by his side. You could do so well for yourself and he loathes the thought. There’d be some admittedly petty satisfaction if he was confident you’d be alone forever after him, but it just isn’t realistic. Irksome woman. Damn you for being enjoyable company and easy on the eyes. Damn you for making him care in the slightest.

Those he strides past either scramble to occupy themselves with busy work or fixate on the floor. He pays them no mind, viewing them as insignificant as the chipped wooden planks beneath his feet. By the time he gets to his cabin’s doors, fatigue falls upon him, though his long journey is just beginning. He shoves the doors open with enough force that the hinges shriek in protest. His kasa is pushed slightly askew from the doors slamming shut, yet he cannot think to fix it or anything else. Not when he sees what awaits him inside.

Not when he sees you. Lounging on his bed as if it’s the most regular thing ever, a framed picture of yourself in your hands that he brought along against his better judgment.

“I’ve got to say, this shot looks pretty good,” you hum. “Although I have no memory of it being taken, so that’s creepy. Do I even want to know how you got this?”

… You probably don’t, but that’s beside the point.

Scaramouche all but stomps over to where you sit. He is a bundle of unsteady energy that is ready to explode at the slightest trigger. You smile at him as he leers down at you, his eyes twitching from how nonchalant you are about this intrusion. Yes, that’s exactly what this is, an intrusion, you’re entangling yourself into something beyond your scope. Beyond your comprehension.

“How,” He narrows his eyes, jamming an accusatory finger in your direction, “The hell did you get in here?”

His personal security might completely pale in comparison to him, but they should be competent enough to keep the likes of you at bay.

“The same way you did, I imagine. The door.”

Scaramouche growls and you put your hands up in defense. “Okay, bad timing, sorry. I told the guards that if they didn’t let me in, I’d tell you about the time they came back from town drunk and tried flirting with me.”

The lightbulb overhead flickers from the electricity Scaramouche exudes.

“They what?”

“Ah, sorry Grigoriy and Igor…”

He shakes his head, deciding to return to that egregious revelation later.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t throw you overboard.”

You part your lips and then close them, eyebrows furrowing together. Whatever it is you’re mulling over, he doesn’t know why he gives you the time, or why he waits with bated breath. He longs to chalk it up to you being dense. How much simpler that would be, if he could insult your intelligence and call it a day. Deep down, he knows the truth is far more complex than that. You have your reasons for doing what you do. There’s intentionality interwoven into your being, no matter how casual you act. It’s what lures him in and keeps him trapped.

He never knows what you’ll do or say next — and he always wants to stick around just a while longer to see.

“Last night, you told me you only wanted the gnosis,” you set the frame down and fold your hands onto your lap. “I thought about that for a while. Not because it surprised me, but because you chose to stop at that. I couldn’t understand why. I know you’re greedy. I know you want more… you want me.”

You tilt your head, your eyes crinkling and full of mirth. It’s enchanting. “So be greedy. Want me as much as I want you. If your kindness is pushing me away, then I don’t care for it, because I’m greedy too. I only want kindness from you if we can both enjoy it. Talking for hours about the silliest things… arguing about topics neither of us really care about… you making me matcha tea in the middle of the night ‘because I whisk it like I’m trying to break your bowl’. That’s the weird, twisted kindness that I’ll accept.”

Scaramouche has never felt so light and heavy at the same time.

“You’re serious about this?”

“One hundred and ten percent.”

“I’m worse than you think I am.”

“That isn’t too surprising.”

“Way worse,” he’s breathless, his face is on fire, and he wants to kiss you senseless until you are too. “If you think I was greedy before, you haven’t seen anything yet. You can’t promise yourself to me without knowing that. I won’t stop at anything to keep you all to myself. If you betray me like my m…”

His voice threatens to crack, but he manages to smooth it over, “If you betray me, I might just destroy this world and everyone in it.”

Including himself.

Your hands are cradling his face. He sees his reflection in your eyes and it's a vulnerable sight that hasn’t stared back at him for centuries. It disgusts him, taunts him, and unearths memories that he thought he buried six feet under. He’s at his ugliest and you look at him as if he were beautiful. Despite himself, he leans into your touch. You were a priceless find. Some treasures were meant to be displayed for the entire world to envy; he decides that method isn’t for him. Your logic-defying ways were to be reserved for his viewing and no one else's.

“And if I never betray you?” You inquire, the pad of your thumb rubbing circles into his cheek. “What then, Kuni?”

His eyes are lidded when he responds. “I don’t know.”

He doesn’t understand trust or the concept of depending on another. In his earliest days, when these imperative truths were beginning to take root, the world burned it to the ground. He always thought the soil was poisoned beyond repair and left it at that. For if tried only to fail again, he’s certain he’d doomed himself to a cycle of disappointment in others.

“Well, I guess that means we’ll have to find out, won’t we?”

You make it sound so easy.

“... Fine. Suit yourself,” Scaramouche fights back a smile at the way you cheer in victory. “Something tells me if I threw you overboard, you’d just cling to the boat, anyway.”

You shoot him a wink. “I’ve been told I’m relentless at getting what I want.”

The imbeciles you surround yourself with might have a point.

Scaramouche knows the words were spoken in jest, yet he fixates on them. You want him. You want him. You want him. For better or for worse (he’s leaning toward worse), you’re still willing to put up with his endless list of negative qualities. He can’t remember the last time anyone offered him that, probably because no one ever has.

You start to move away and he holds you in place, stealing the kiss that’s been on his mind since you had the audacity to show up uninvited. His mouth slants against yours, his appetite voracious and demanding everything you could possibly offer. You reciprocate in kind, your lips curving upward, and your hands guiding his to settle on your hips.

You are the worst human, he thinks, pushing you back onto the bed and eliciting a gasp from you in response.

So it’s his job to see that you’re dealt with accordingly.

By him and him alone.

#scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #reader insert #genshn impact reader insert #fatui x reader #harbinger x reader #not sfw #my stuff

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iamnotoriginalphil · 1 year

Text

So Pretty (Leonora Lesso x Reader)

Synopsis: Lady Lesso has a problem and you are the cause

Words:1.7k

Warnings: mentions of blood, choking

You were such a pretty picture. That’s what Lesso would tell herself when she realised she was staring at you. That was the point of beauty, to draw the eye. Who was she to deny her own nature?

That didn’t stop the way your laughter seemed to haunt her. Or how the brush of your fingers along her the back of her chair replayed in her mind for weeks. Or the way your gaze felt heavy on her in a way no one else’s did.

She had to do something about the way you seemed to have crawled under her skin like a bug.

Cane tapping with each footsteps, students tripped over themselves to get out of her way. She put it down to the murder in her eyes, and in her heart. She haunted the halls, hunting you down with a single mindedness unmatched by anyone.

She shouldn’t have been surprised, finding you practically waltzing through the shelves of books in the library. Your finger ran along the spines of the leather-bound tomes, your voice sweet as you murmured to yourself. She allowed herself a moment to watch you without your knowledge, thinking of all the ways she’d convince you to be done with the curse you’d so clearly placed upon her.

And then you turned, catching her in the act. The smile that bloomed over your face was slow, as if you knew you had all the time in the world. She let the glower fall back into place, waiting for the spark of terror in your eyes.

It never came.

“Lady Lesso, this is a pleasant surprise.” She hated how even your voice was like a caress of silk across her skin. It made her need to suppress a shiver.

She didn’t bother with a response, stalking towards you. You only blinked, the smile firmly on your face and if she wasn’t mistaken she thought she could see the flicker of interest behind your eyes. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip and she had to bite back a moan.

Her grip on your wrist was tight and she dragged you away, far from prying eyes. No one needed to know someone had managed to curse her. No one had to be aware there were chinks in her armour.

Your continued silence only served to infuriate her further. You asked no questions, nor protested as she dragged you into a secluded corner of the accursed library. Hidden in a shadowy corner she finally released you, only to shove the end of her cane to the centre of your chest, keeping you pinned to the wall like the beautiful butterfly you were.

“You will remove it now or I won’t be answerable for my actions,” she all but growled at you.

You blinked up at her, looking more bemused than scared.

“Remove what?”

“Don’t act coy, you know what you’ve done.” She shoved the cane once, hoping it would bruise that pretty skin of yours. How she loved bruises.

“I would love to be of service to you but I truly have no idea what you’re talking about,” you replied, as calm as ever. She could have screamed.

“I am not one to be trifled with, little one,” she said, voice growing dangerously low.

Lowering the cane she stalked forward, wrapping her hand around the pretty column of your neck. She could feel your pulse thrumming under her thumb, slow and steady, as if you were having no more than a pleasant conversation with a colleague. She wondered what it would be like to sink her teeth in, the coppery twang of your blood on her tongue.

“I aim only to please,” you said, murmured, whispered.

“Remove this curse you’ve placed on me and I may let you live.” She ignored the waver in her voice as your large eyes almost sparkled in the barely there light. Your eyelashes fluttered and she felt stricken.

“Curse?” She hated how wonderful the word sounded on your lips, soft and sweet, as if it was something to crave.

“Yes, curse,” she snapped, hoping to cover up the way she wanted to consume you. Her fingers tightened on your neck and for the first time she felt your pulse jump. A wolfish smile spread over her face.

“I have not placed a curse on you,” you said, “perhaps you have the wrong person.”

“I don’t.” Her thumb traced over the beat of your blood. Your neck arched under her touch and your eyelids lowered.

“I would never dare,” you said, the note of your voice changing. Breathless, reverent, desperate.

She drew closer, eyes sweeping over you. You were watching her from under eyelashes, chest heaving, hands pressing back against the wall behind you. She squeezed her hand, watching your careful control abandoning you.

“Then why do I feel like this?” she hissed.

“Like what?”

Your fingers brushed against her waist, causing her to freeze. Her heart felt as if it was in her throat and she had to bite back on a groan. She wanted those fingers trailing along her bare skin. She caught your hand, pinning it to the wall to keep you from touching her further, cane clattering to the floor.

“Like I’m going mad.”

Her nose skimmed along the skin of your jaw. She heard your breath hitch and a small whimper fell from those pretty lips she’d spent so much time watching. The way you smelt like roses and rotted leaves and winter snow made her grit her teeth. She was sure you tasted sweet, like the pomegranate that doomed Persephone.

“Lift this damned curse,” she said, “let me go.”

“I’ve done nothing to you,” you replied, “I swear it.”

Her tongue darted out, tasting your skin. You gasped, your only free hand jumping to her hip, and she could not tell if you wanted to push her away or pull her closer. Your pulse was hummingbird fast under her thumb and she was sure your blood would look so pretty spilled all over your skin.

“You’ve caused this,” she growled in your ear, grinning when your fingers tightened on her, shivering under her touch.

She nipped at your jaw, revelling in the sigh falling from your lips. You turned your head, eyes smouldering and dark. She froze, not sure what you were doing, no longer feeling as in control. With one look you were making her come undone.

“Oh, this is all you,” you breathed.

You lunged forward, lips pressing to hers. She pressed you back against the wall, teeth sinking into your bottom lip until she tasted your blood. You whimpered, hauling her closer. She’d been right. There was no sweeter taste than you.

And yet she still felt as if she was going insane. She thought getting a taste of you would sate her need but all she wanted was more. She kissed you harder, deeper, swallowing each moan. You met her kiss for kiss, only fuelling the fire in her chest.

She pushed one of her legs between yours, pressing against you until you whined. It was music to her ears, the noises she was causing you to make. She wondered how many more she was yet to discover. She had time to find out.

Then your hand slid around, grasping her ass, pulling her more insistently against you. The press of your body was making her head spin, every soft curve and sharp edge right there for the taking. Your lips were trailing down her neck, making her heart flutter until your teeth sunk in. A surprising strangled noise came from the back of her throat and her fingers tightened on the long column of your neck.

Pushing you off her, she let herself watch you for a moment. Your lips were swollen, you were panting for breath and your eyes were glazed. She’d never seen such a pretty picture than you when ruined. She could spend the rest of eternity taking you apart and putting you back together, only to do it all over again.

“This must be a curse,” she ground out from between clenched teeth, “it has to be.”

“Or maybe you just like me,” you said with barely any breath.

“I’m evil, little one, we don’t like people like the princesses do,” she snarled.

You looked up at her from under lowered eyelashes again, only now she could see the bruises forming on your skin from underneath her hand. Her breath caught in her chest as your teeth sunk into your lip, and despite having just done that herself, she wanted to do it again.

She was worried she would never have enough of you.

“This doesn’t feel like princesses say it does,” you said, “this feels much less wholesome.”

“Don’t tell me what it feels like,” she snarled.

She wasn’t expecting you to move lightning fast, knocking her hands from your body and pushing her back against the wall. She gasped, eyes widening. Your fingertips trailed over the skin of her neck before you cupped her cheek. Her eyes fluttered close as she felt your lips ghost over the shell over her ear.

“You make me feel as if I’m going insane, too.”

You kissed her like she was the oxygen you breathed, the water you drunk, as if you hungered and she was the only thing that could sate you. She groaned, her arms coming up around you, hands pressing into your spine to keep you close. There was nothing she could do but kiss you like you were everything.

You stepped back, leaving her gasping for breath, off kilter and unsteady. She reached out to you but you merely chuckled, taking her hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it, as if you were from the other school. She hated the way it made her heart beat faster.

“Come, Lady Lesso,” you said, “we both have classes to teach.”

“To hell with them.”

She grasped your wrist, hauling you back to her. Your laughter made her feel lighter and she cut it off with a kiss, not needed to investigate that feeling at the current moment. Your moans were so much prettier to her ears.

You were such a pretty picture and she was going to keep you.

#lady lesso x reader #lady lesso imagine #lady lesso #leonora lesso x reader #leonora lesso imagine

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imakemywings · 2 years

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I know Silm tells us essentially that Nerdanel was a moderating force on Feanor, but I refuse to believe she was the “holder of the brain cell” as the current fandom phrasing goes, or the Only Sane Man in the house. #1 because I don’t think someone like that would have married a person like Feanor in the first place; and #2 because it’s just boring as fuck imo

Silm also tells us that Nerdanel was basically the only one to ever change Feanor’s mind through counsel, and that they were “companions on many journeys” and that it was only his later deeds that “grieved her.” Which idk doesn’t sound to me like a description of someone who spent her whole time in this relationship demanding Feanor behave more responsibly and trying to reign in his passions. Feanor and Nerdanel’s relationship is, in my view, very much posited as a love story of equals. Other details we know are that a) Feanor married young (no comment on Nerdanel’s age iirc); and b) His choice in spouse was surprising to the rest of the Noldor. This has always suggested, to me, that Feanor fell very hard and very fast for Nerdanel, and that he was convinced she was The One, and that their relationship was formed on a deep understanding of each other as people. Feanor didn’t care that Nerdanel was “not the fairest of her people” or that as the crown prince of the Noldor, he could perhaps have cast a much wider net in a search for a spouse. Furthermore, because Elves don’t seem to marry for politics, Nerdanel had no serious motivation to agree unless she also wanted to get married.

Which brings me to my main point: Nerdanel saw Feanor’s slightly unhinged behavior and went “damn that’s pretty hot.” You will never convince me that Feanor’s burning passions aren’t exactly what attracted Nerdanel to him in the first place. Yes they make him hot-tempered and impulsive and occasionally (self-) destructive, but they also make him interesting. Feanor feels so much about everything and his deep need and desire to create and to understand and better the world around him was precisely what made Nerdanel take another look at him. She could get underneath the prickliness to the artist, the scholar, and she loved those things, and maybe she even loved how much he rejected anyone’s efforts to make him quiet down or behave differently, to make himself more likeable. They had seven kids together--which, iirc, is the most kids of any Elven couple in Arda--ever. Is that not supposed to be indicative of the passion these two held for each other?

And frankly, I would also buy she willingly took his side in most family feuds, even when she knew Feanor was being unreasonable, and furthermore, that she found a great deal of his disruptive behavior entertaining. Anaire and Earwen can try to convince her to push Feanor to apologize to Fingolfin for his latest Incident, but is she going to? Not unless Feanor’s done something really outrageous. Otherwise, she probably can’t even get through telling him “that was really unnecessary” without laughing. Nerdanel, apologize for Feanor’s behavior? Not likely!

Nerdanel acted as a moderating force on Feanor in that I think he was just calmer around her. He’s a very volatile person and we know that he never meshed well with his step-family and possibly felt out of place generally owing to Miriel’s fate, but I think with Nerdanel it felt like he had found a place. She understood him and they were partners and they were going to do this Life thing together. With Nerdanel, I think he began from a more relaxed, less reactive place, which had a corresponding impact on his behavior. And of course, because he felt Nerdanel understood him (and liked him), and he respected and loved her, he was willing to listen to her counsel (sometimes) when he would take no one else’s.

Lastly, the idea of Nerdanel spending hundreds or thousands of years as Feanor’s put-upon wife, trying to manage him and their seven children, essentially reduced to a Nagging Wife stereotype as she acts as the only restraint on him is just so boring and what an incredible, appalling waste of her character. Why don’t you just slap her down in a 1960s sitcom? I think Nerdanel deserves more than that. She had no reason to marry Feanor except that she wanted to, because she had spent a lot of time with him and she wanted him, she loved him, and she saw a future for them together, as partners.

#I am never going to be capable of being normal about these two #their relationship makes me want to commit arson #feanor #nerdanel #feanel #the silmarillion #tolkien tag #this was supposed to be a short little ''hm here are some thoughts'' post #meta #sort of #mine

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maislovebot · 8 months

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Top 10 bsd characters oral scenarios: Saigiku Jouno

Here’s the Jouno chapter! This one’s one of my personal favorites I’ve made:)

Contains: afab reader, no pronouns, silly sub Jouno, reader switches between being mean and nice, mainly nice tho, 69, reader calls him ‘Sai’, kinda brat taming but not really, implied orgasm denial

You sighed at Jouno, showing visible disappointment. “You’re being awfully bratty.” Jouno glanced up at you from his spot on the bed, and crossed his arms.

“Well I’m not that used to this. You’d normally be crying and begging by now.”

You shook your head, “well, you agreed to this. Any last minute thoughts?” Was he really just not the experimental type?

Jouno shook his head rather violently, “no, of course not. I’m just not used to this.”

“Don’t worry, we can go at your pace.” You comforted him.

At this moment in time, Jouno and you had decided to switch things up, typically, Jouno would be unlawfully mean to you in bed, but you were choosing to put him in his place. It honestly took a lot of convincing, but he seems strangely on board with the whole thing. Almost like he’s enjoying it more than you are.

It was honestly quite cute, seeing Jouno, the most intimidating member of the Hunting Dogs acting like some petty brat instead of a man who could honestly end anyone if he so pleased.

That still didn’t change the fact that his attitude was making things insanely difficult. He was borderline refusing everything, even though he knew he was going to be the one getting the most out of this in the end. You were originally planning on just pleasing him the entire time, but perhaps a change in pace is in order? Maybe that’ll get him to help him learn to stop being a brat.

You could tell he was nervous, you could tell he was scared to be in a vulnerable position, and you decided that above all else he should be comfortable.

“Here, Sai.” You said in a tone of voice that was much softer than before. You brought your forehead down to his, straddling him in the process.

“You can trust me. Do you think you can trust me?” You questioned, looking at him. You had noticed his hair was slightly disheveled, and you could tell his breathing was a little labored.

“Of course, this is just really new.”

“I know, and I want to help you get more comfortable. Do you have any requests? Maybe we could start out with something you’re more used to.”

Jouno nodded, and reached down to grab your hips, urging you to move yourself up.

“Ah.” You could tell what he was implying, and moved yourself up. You were already undressed from the waist down, only sitting in your shirt at this point, so you were already ready.

You chucked a little, and Jouno hummed in confusion.

“You know, I was considering doing this earlier to shut you up, but I guess you beat me to it.”

Jouno sighed playfully, and had finally pulled you up all the way, so you were now hovering above his face.

He would never confess to this, but he loved when you sat on his face more than anything, he struggled to put it into words, but he truly loved how you practically enveloped his senses, how he could taste you so miraculously, and smell your arousal just as much. It got him going. That’s why he picked this position to help him relax, he simply loved it so much. It could effortlessly get him to stop worrying.

He grabbed your thighs even tighter, his nails digging into them and brought you down to his awaiting mouth. He playfully brought his tongue out of his mouth, licking and kissing your outer lips, licking up your precum, denying any attention towards your clit. You knew what he was doing. He seemed to have forgotten that things were on your terms this time around, so you moved your hand back and gave a light slap to his inner thigh, making him wince a little.

“You should know better than that by now. Don’t forget who’s in char—ge h-here..” you were trying to sound like an enforcer, but you ended up losing your bite as Jouno finally gave a small kitten lick to your clit. It felt good. Really good. You ground into his face just a little, desperate for him to do it again, but he wouldn’t budge, and though you couldn’t see his face, knowing him, he was probably smiling with that cocky face of his. Not knowing what to do, you decided to give him something that would egg him on. You reached your hand out and teased the tip of his dick with your finger, spreading the precum that was there along his slit. He instantly bucked his hips up, crying out a little. Then, to get him to do what you wanted, you simply pulled away.

“Keep going and I’ll keep going too. Maybe I’ll even give you head.” He nodded as much as he could from under you, and licked your clit, before moving his lips around the bud and sucking on it.

You bucked your hips and attempted to regain your composure enough to speak, although it was difficult considering how wonderfully he was treating you.

“Good— ah— good job.”

Jouno kept vigorously sucking at your clit, and you decided to give him what he wanted. You jerked him off just a little bit more, moving your hand a little at a time. Still keeping him on edge. Wanting more. You were simultaneously grinding into his face, chasing your climax when he moved his fingers up to your hole and prodded at your entrance briefly before pushing two of his fingers inside, with that you jerked your hips a bit, and that was what made you decide to reward him.

You moved your face down towards his length, licking the tip before bringing your mouth around it, hollowing your cheeks. This made Jouno jump a little, and buck his hips again. You struggled to keep him in your mouth as he continued sucking on your clit, considering how badly you were trembling, but you managed.

He moved his lips and instead licked a stripe along your pussy before diving his tongue into your hole, making you jerk yourself down onto him. You ended up letting go of his cock for a split second, before remembering what you had promised and bringing yourself back down. In order to help more, you ran what you couldn’t take in your mouth with your hands, practically caressing him, which made him cry out and whine. As he kept eating you out like he was starved, you could feel a familiar warmth pooling in your lower stomach, giving a coil type of sensation.

“I—I’m clo—se..!” You tried to whine out, removing your mouth from him momentarily. Jouno hummed, implying he was close as well.

You licked along his tip just one more time, before he came undone, and trembled as a result. His cum was dripping down his own dick, with small amounts landing on your cheeks. You brought a hand up and moved it from your cheeks to your mouth, moving yourself back up, putting more weight on him again.

“You can do it.. come on..” you said, grinding yourself down on his face even more. You finally came all over his face, crying out just one last time, twitching a little. You looked up and saw Jouno bucking his hips again, and before you knew it he came yet again, and you laughed, lifting yourself off of his face.

“Did you really come again ?” Jouno moved his pointer finger over your lips as you laid down on top of him.

“ Don’t mention it. I was already sensitive, and, and..”

“ And what ?” You questioned.

Jouno shook his head.

“..and you cumming all over my face was super hot..”

You audibly laughed, and nuzzled into the crook of his neck.

“Are you ready now, Sai?” You questioned.

Jouno sighed, “I think so.”

“Well that’s not very convincing.” You teased.

“ Yes . I’m ready.”

You hopped off of him, and smiled. “Perfect!”

Jouno sat up and you straddled him.

“I think it’s pretty naughty that you came twice, yeah? So why don’t you let me tease you for a minute, till you learn your lesson?”

Jouno tensed. This was going to be a long, long night.

Wc - 1.3k

I’m not sure when the next chapter will be done, but I’m writing a minimum of 0.5k words a day so expect some Fyodor filth soon!

#bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #jouno x reader #jouno saigiku #jouno x you #jouno smut #jouno saigiku x reader #saigiku jouno x reader #bsd smut #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs smut

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writeforfandoms · 8 months

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Waking Lions 12

Find the series masterlist

Ace is in over her head, but she can swim.

Warnings: Swearing, brief kidnapping, threat of violence, new characters get plopped onto the chess board, spy shit.

Word count: 1.3k

Reminder: this is a slowwwwwww burn. But we will get there! Eventually.

The van finally stopped. You had no idea how long it had been - it was harder to judge the passage of time without sight and without any sounds other than the engine and generic road sounds. Not that you’d heard another car for a while.

Your guess was that you were somewhere well outside the city. Finland had lots of open land, after all.

The door opened and hands caught your upper arms, guiding you out of the car. You swallowed but went easily, stumbling only a little. You had two days still until Captain would expect a check in, Laswell had no idea where you were, and no one else was expecting you.

Okay. There were times that being an independent had some downsides.

A door opened ahead of you, hinges creaking, and the air cooled a little as the sunshine vanished. You clenched your jaw as you were guided by the elbow before someone turned you and pushed you down into a chair.

Light hit your eyes as the bag was removed, and you blinked a few times. Now there were three men: the two who had grabbed you and an absolute behemoth of a man wearing a… hood of some sort. Definitely the tallest man you’d ever seen.

You couldn’t help but swallow at that, nerves alight with fear.

This was going to end so poorly.

“What were you doing with this man?” The leader held out a photo to you, and you took it. It was a shot of you and the informant in Ireland. Based on the angle, taken from where up high. Like a sniper nest.

Well. Guess you knew who had killed him, now. And shot you.

“He was an informant,” you said slowly, frowning down at the picture. “That’s all.”

“An informant?” The leader leaned in closer, trying to use his height on you to his advantage.

“I’m an independent intelligence agent.” You shrugged a little. “He was a lead.”

“A lead for what?”

You tipped your head slowly, looking up at him. “I was gathering information on a group in Russia,” you said slowly. He didn’t strike you as being allied with the Russians, and you were gambling on that. “He was providing me with a piece of that puzzle.”

“Yeah?” His lips curled a little in amused derision. “And was one of those puzzle pieces where to join up?”

You snorted. You couldn’t help it. “Not a chance in hell. The world isn’t perfect but I like it without a major war.”

The man took the picture back from you, handing it back to his associates without looking. “So your interest in this Russian group is…?”

“Intel, like I said.” You shrugged a little. “I don’t get involved.”

“Don’t suppose you have anyone to vouch for you.” The gleam of his teeth was an open threat.

“Suppose that depends on who you know.” You spread your open hands out, away from your body. “What would convince you not to shoot me?”

“Tell me who you work for.”

You clenched your jaw briefly. “I work for several people, that’s the point of being independent. But the people having me gather this information are American.” You paused. “And English.”

“I need a name.”

“I can’t give you a name, not without risking my client.” You refused to be cowed, even when the big guy drew a knife that must have been as long as your forearm.

“You’re not giving me a good reason to keep you alive.”

You frowned down at your hands, thinking fast. They’d shot your contact in Ireland (and you), because they assumed you were using him to join up. They assumed you were working with the Ultranationalist group, or possibly with AQ. The problem was that there was no easy way to prove that you weren’t. Not without compromising people, and you refused to do that.

So you had left what you always had.

Information.

“Perhaps I can interest you in an exchange, instead?” You smiled a little. “My life for the information I have on the ultranationalist group.”

He considered it, leaning back a little, fingers tapping against the butt of his pistol. Then he nodded once. “You give me everything,” he agreed. “You wait here while I verify information. If you’re not lying, I won’t kill you.”

You nodded slowly. “Agreed.” You drew in a deep breath. “You might want to record this.”

The leader silently held his phone in his hand and nodded to you.

So you started talking. You told them everything, including the things you hadn’t gotten to Captain yet. (You did feel a bit bad about that but, well, needs must.) You gave them the few concrete links you had to AQ.

Telling it all this way took a while, and you were parched by the time you were done, throat a little sore. But you were still alive.

The leader nodded once and tucked his phone away again. “Wait here,” was all he said. He and the other man who’d grabbed you walked out.

Leaving you alone with the behemoth.

You shifted your weight, careful not to make any sudden moves. At some point while you’d been talking, the knife had gone back into the sheath, but the man was still armed to the teeth.

Not that he needed to be. Looking at the size of him, you wouldn’t be surprised if he could rip you apart with his bare hands.

So you kept quiet and unassuming and as still as you could manage. You did not reach for your phone. You did go over everything you’d told them and everything you’d extrapolated.

The one thing that still didn’t make sense was why they’d shot your contact (and you). He hadn’t been involved.

Unless he had, and he’d been feeling you out. You closed your eyes and grimaced. Damn. Someone had given you faulty intel and you’d nearly gotten killed for it. Twice, if you decided to count this encounter. You hated it when you missed things like that.

“You are alright?”

You blinked at the behemoth (you were just gonna start calling him Goliath soon), his voice quiet and accented. “Yes, thank you. Just realized something.”

He nodded once, hood shifting with the movement, and settled back against the wall again.

You weren’t sure how long you sat there, going through your intel, looking for holes or inconsistencies. But it was a while. Long enough that your ass had gone numb by the time the leader came back in.

“Time to go,” he said to Goliath. He glanced at you, eyes dark. “You’re clear. But we’re behind schedule. You’ll have to find your own way back.”

“Fine.” You’d take that over getting shot any day of the week.

The leader nodded once and stepped out again. Goliath paused at the door, looking down at you. Way, way down. “I am sorry, for the shot.” He touched his own side where you had been shot. And then he was gone.

Well. Guess you knew who had shot you. And why.

Relief made you a little dizzy, and you slumped in your chair. You waited until you heard the van start up and leave before you left the room.

You had been absolutely right. Middle of nowhere.

And now you needed to find a way back to your hotel to collect your things.

You thanked all your lucky stars that you had service, and then settled in to wait for a cab.

#waking lions #john price x reader #john price x you #f!reader

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paradiseinaverno · 2 years

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Morpheus falling in love with a human hcs?!?

morpheus falling in love with a human (gn!)

part one part two (soon)

this ended up being so long that i’m going to make a part two purely because i enjoy this so much .

lowercase intended !

i think he’d actually be very resistant to it at first, especially post-burgess imprisonment

and if we’re being honest, he probably wouldn’t be the type to approach you in every day life

morpheus would notice you from your dreams, from either the comfortable simplicity of them, or the erratic nature from time to time.

honestly, he wonders how one human has the capacity to think up such a variety of dreams, and at a daily (or nightly) rate, too.

and it’s this thought that slowly seeps into his mind, leading him to monitor your dreams from time to time. out of pure curiosity, of course, but after a few weeks he realises that perhaps this…intrigue, is caused by something that has entirely too much to do with emotion.

still, he can’t help himself. neither can you, though; it would be a blatant lie if you said you didn’t sleep purely to see this mystical man in your dreams each night. whether he was aware of this or not, you’re not sure. you’re only sure of how deep the desire to glimpse his face is. so should it come as a surprise to anyone, when one dream you decide to speak to him?

he’s shocked. partly because of your sentience, and (mostly) because of his presence in your dream. so shocked, in fact, that he waves his hand all too abruptly, and you wake up…unable to sleep for the rest of the night.

in fact, you feel as though sleep and dreams have forsaken you for the rest of the week. no matter how hard you try, no matter how weary you are, sleep does not come. neither do daydreams.

does morpheus feel guilty? perhaps. is it even lawful for the king of dreams to deny a human the chance to dream? he’s not entirely sure. but after lucienne and matthew’s constant chiding (because even they, in a limited time, have grown fond of you), he relents.

so the next time you attempt to sleep, you find yourself actually sleeping, to your relief. soon, you find yourself back in this dream-world, and sure enough, there he is, gazing at you with dark eyes and barely concealed curiosity.

it doesn’t last for long though, because you’re angry. you haven’t slept or dreamed for a week, and you have a sneaking suspicion it has something to do with this broody looking man across a field from you. so what do you do?

you jab a finger into the king of dreams’ chest, and you give him a piece of your mind.

“do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

he doesn’t speak, just stares at you in awe. and though morpheus has quite literally been to hell and back, he finds he’s never been quite as frightened as he is now.

he thinks you still look lovely, even in rage.

when you’ve finished your (well deserved) rant, he just blinks.

and then, “i’m terribly sorry that you haven’t slept for a week.”

his voice is deep. rich, and deep, as if every star in the galaxy has loaned a ray of light to him. it settles in your bones, and despite your anger, you can’t help but say, “it’s alright. i think. i’d just like to sleep, please. i enjoy it.”

“yes. your dreams are quite…eccentric. i’ve missed them.”

even morpheus is surprised with how forward (for him) he’s being. it’s not that he’s never had lovers; rather, he’s become cautious around humans, considering recent events. but something about you feels incredibly safe, even though he only knows you in dreams.

“eccentric?”

“i meant no offence.”

you smile. “none taken. i’m glad my dreams bring you some type of happiness.”

you’re not sure how time works in this place, but for what you think is the next hour, you learn his name, he learns yours. morpheus gives you the background, and though you know you’re dreaming, a part of you is convinced this is all real

“this is real.”

“i never said it wasn’t!”

at some point, when you feel the meadow around you slipping slightly (the grass feels incredibly real, you think), you know it’s time to wake up. the problem is, you don’t really feel like leaving just yet.

but you have responsibilities, just like the king of dreams has his. and even you are able to notice the awe in his eyes as he bids you goodbye

there’s an air around him as he does so, something almost…it’s tangible, and you can only think of it as encapsulating. there is a man with entire stars in his eyes, standing in front of you with what can only be described as pure restraint, and you’re leaving.

it’s almost like he can read your mind (and you wouldn’t be surprised if he could), when he says, “it would be…i would like you to visit this realm again.”

your heart thrums with hope. “you’d like me to visit?”

he doesn’t answer you directly. as is the nature of dreams, the king himself can be very vague.

in fact, you don’t really get a response. you just wake up, heart still thrumming between your ribs, morning light filtering through your windows.

oh. so it was all a dream in the end.

but, as you get out of bed, you’re not quite sure if dreams can produce the flower that lays neatly on the middle of your bedside.

thank you for the request ! all feedback (good a d bad) is appreciated - and if anybody would like to be added to the tag list for any future sandman fics, please let me know!

#dream the endless x reader #dream x reader #dream x you #morpheus fanfiction #morpheus x you #morpheus x y/n #morpheus x reader #the sandman fanfic #the sandman x reader #sandman x reader #dream of the endless fic #gn reader

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acourtofthought · 1 month

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Elain does seem to have friends in the NC....

Elain was laughing among a circle of beautiful friends, flushed and brilliant. - ACOTAR

...... But she had them in the human lands too.

Elain does seem to have a hobby and interests in the NC......

My sister was beaming, content—prettier than I’d ever seen her, even in her simple muslin gardening dress. Her cheeks were flushed beneath her large, floppy hat. “I think—I think I’d like to see the continent,” I said. - ACOTAR

I was content to listen to her talk about every bud and bloom, about her plans to start another garden by the greenhouse, perhaps a vegetable garden, if she could learn enough about it over the next few months. - ACOTAR

She had come alive here, and her joy was infectious. There wasn’t a servant or gardener who didn’t smile at her, and even the brusque head cook found excuses to bring her plates of cookies and tarts at various points in the DAY. - ACOTAR

Elain had taken charge of planning and finding me a last-minute dress - ACOTAR

..... But she had hobbies and dreams in the human lands too.

Elain called Feysands house "home" but....

"I want to go home." "I want to go home she repeated". - ACOWAR

She said the same of their human manor.

Why are the arguments always only on this supposed fantastic life she's found in the Night Court and how Elain saying the court is her court is evidence that she's where she belongs rather than acknowledging she clearly belonged in the human lands in a much more obvious way.

If you truly look at Elain as she was in the human lands versus Elain as she is in the NC, I'd say her happiness and purpose was much more evident in the human lands. She was beaming, laughing, surrounded by an entire circle of friends at one point, she was the happiest Feyre had ever seen her at another (no one has noted Elain being the happiest they'd ever ever seen her in the NC).

Elain wasn't living in her sisters shadows in the human lands the way she is the Night Court.

She created her own life and wasn't forced to make do with what was available to her as she has been in the NC.

That's the truth of it.

Elain's current life is only what it is because she's had to build it out of the leftovers from Feyre's world.

Do you think out of all the people in Velaris, in all of Prythian, the twins and Elain have so much in common?

Do you think, had Elain had her pick of all the eligible bachelor's in Prythian, Az would be the one she had the most in common with? Do they share any of the same goals? Do they have any similar interests?

It's easy to convince yourself a character wants what they want when you don't take into account how they don't have many options. Winning by default is not really winning at all.

Elain doesn't enjoy bars or taverns so you know where she's had the opportunity to meet others? Feyre's patio, Feyre's dining room, Feyre's kitchen, Feyre's sitting room...

Elain was living in a strange place where all she had to choose from, especially as she was fighting against her bond, is what was available to her. She was scared and uncertain so instead of being in a place to branch out, she latched on to the things that were already there.

It's the same reason Amren was Nesta's first friend, because she was forced to find someone within Feyre's inner circle after just being made. She once considered Amren a friend, did she not? But only after Nesta set off on her own did she discover what made her the happiest, who her real found family is. Where Nesta even traveled to Spring to realize that she didn't feel the same sense of home there that she did the HOW. Nesta explored many other males before deciding Cassian was always going to be who she wanted.

Anyone can make the best of their situation if they try hard enough but that doesn't mean, were Elain to travel to Day, to Spring, to the continent; were Elain to meet more people outside of the Inner Circle, she wouldn't find a life that far surpasses that which she's known in both the human lands and the NC.

If she were to do that, to see what else is out there, to get to know Lucien as even a friend and still decide that the NC, Az and the wraiths are what she wants then I'd fully support it. But I'll never believe E/riel or Elain's life in the NC is authentic until Elain is ready to figure out what she wants outside of what she was forced into.

#anti e/riel #Elain deserves to explore their world before deciding where her home is going to be #elain archeron

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lya-dustin · 5 months

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The Dornish Princess

Aemond x fem! Dornish!reader

Cw: mentions of murder, false identity, theft

Tag list: @valeskafics @queen--kenobi

You arrive in King’s Landing as a poor survivor of a shipwreck. All your nice things and clothes and servants and knights gone when the Wyldes found you on their lands.

The only proof of your identity was a waterlogged scroll naming you Coryanne Nymerios Martell, Princess of Dorne.

You looked the part, tan skin, dark hair and the haunting purple eyes of your Dayne mother and the manner of a gentlewoman. By the time you arrived at Court, you had been given all a woman of your station needed and letters were sent home to your sister to tell her of your rescue and invitation to court.

No one knew why your dead handmaid looked so much like you until you quietly explained she was your bastard sister and companion. But you didn’t really cry for her, she was just a bastard after all.

The bastard of Qoren Martell and a dragonseed from Lys.

“My congratulations on your betrothal, may the gods bless you and your intended, your highness.” You say quietly when you encounter the Prince Regent avoid his three and ten year old betrothed.

Little Floris Baratheon had been picked because it would be a good three years until she was old enough to be bedded, a smart move to prevent Baratheon from having too much power over the Greens and keep one’s freedom for as long as one needs it.

You were in a similar boat, your hand merited more than a vassal lord so your sister decided to sell you to the Prince of Pentos because she refused to wed. You were Aliandra’s heir; you were older than Qyle and next in line to be Princess of Dorne, you were everything Floris Baratheon and the rest of the ladies in Westeros were not.

Now it was all a matter of seducing the infamous kinslayer beside you.

His mother distrusted you, a smart decision, no one should trust you. If anyone looked too closely, they’d see it was not snake scales you wore.

“I am engaged to a child, and you are engaged to a man older than my dead father.” He said bluntly and you agreed. Both matches were bad, especially if you were a romantic at heart. It seemed the prince despite his appearance and cold exterior was one.

It wouldn’t be difficult to convince him you love him, or to make him love you. Everyone you met had that misfortune of loving you and becoming blind to your true nature.

It wasn’t the shipwreck that killed your sister, you had held her under the water until she stopped thrashing and came up with the story you fed to Lady Wylde and her company.

Aemond believed himself to be the exception to the faults of men, but he was only a man even if he rode the largest dragon since Balerion.

“A betrothed is not a spouse; the Prince of Pentos is not the first of my suitors to propose and die before the negotiations begin in earnest, you know.” You admit, hinting at the tragic and sudden deaths of all the men ---young and old--- who courted you since you first bled.

You sampled some of them when you grew older, those who didn’t satisfy you usually had hanger-ons who did, and tradition dictated that no bride prices cannot be returned should the groom die before the wedding takes place.

You had amassed quite a fortune in Essos, that was where you were heading. To find more unsuspecting men after your sister was forced to toss you out of Dorne after you slipped up and was almost caught.

Perhaps you could stay here instead. All signs pointed to the Prince Regent becoming King before the first chill came south.

If Prince Aemond was as good with his cock as he was with his sword, he’d be worth staying in Westeros.

Queen Coryanne, now that had a better ring to it than Queen Floris.

“And Lady Floris is not the first of mine to seek greener pastures.” His lips quirk slightly in amusement. He was notorious for evading matchmaking mamas and their daughters, Borros Baratheon may think a war would prevent Prince Aemond from going back on his word, but he’d never played against you.

“Shall we put it to the test?” you ask in a whisper knowing little Floris will be shuffled off to the youngest boy like an old shirt before the sun even sets.

You like him, despite it all, you cannot help but like him.

You are betrothed now, a small feast thrown in your honor as the Baratheon contingent leave and wage war against the Vulture King to spite both the Greens and Dorne at the same time.

But House Targaryen does not care, they got the better deal in you.

Gifts of money and finery and jewels were given to you by your soon to be husband, his mother and the nobles currying favor with the woman who is queen in all but name.

Your dowry would be partially paid in gold and in men. While Dorne was far less backwards than the rest of Westeros and women held equal rights like men, and end to the hostility between the realms.

“We can wed as soon as your dowry comes, my love.” he says as you lounge in your bed after a particularly trying morning. Aegon was growing weaker, Helaena and Jaehaera doing so terribly they had to be taken to the motherhouse in Oldtown to heal away from prying eyes and the need for men and heirs was as important as breathing.

Letters from Dorne had come, mainly thanking your prince and his mother for their hospitality and the promise of sending a proper envoy to negotiate the wedding. You pray the envoy comes by land instead of sea.

Who knows, perhaps Dorne would join the six kingdoms without bloodshed.

But it won’t happen.

The moment the envoy comes, you are fucked.

He won’t want you if he knew the truth. Loathes bastards, killed one even if the little fucker had his blood. Worse, you made a fool of him as you rob them all blind as you plan your escape before Aliandra exposes you as the fraud you are.

What would he do to you when he knows you are Y/N Sand and not your dead sister, Coryanne?

“Why wait, my love?” you kiss him to show how much you care for him, how little it bothers you to see him without his eye as he fucks a bastard into you as he calls you by a name you spit like a curse.

And like the lovesick fool he’s become, the two of you elope in the night. Two strangers stand witness, and you give your real name as a jape as a drunken septon names you man and wife.

Aemond will hate you and hunt you down, you know this you spend your wedding night in his rooms and see how happy you’ve made him.

“I love you, Y/N.” he breathes out and your heart catches in your throat. The boy he was under it all didn’t deserve it, but you can’t have him and no matter how much you pray for the envoy to drown, you know your past will catch up to you.

You are gone when he wakes.

Nothing, not even the furniture, is left in your rooms, nor is there a speck of gold left in the royal treasury except a valid marriage certificate signed and dated with your true name.

He will hate you, but you’d rather he hate you than ever forget you.

Part ii

#aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x dornish!reader #ewan mitchell

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